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#spirited celebrate party
d-criss-news · 1 year
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Justin Paul, Mia Criss, Darren Criss, Sukari Jones, Benj Pasek, Diane Warren & David Foster at the Apple Original Films 'Spirited' sing-a-long event at Tramp Stamp Granny's, Jan 11, 2023 (Photo by Stewart Cook/Shutterstock)
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uncanny-tranny · 11 months
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The sheer pity party some alloromantics expect of aromantics is really funny to me. The expectation is that we ought to feel broken or afraid that we will never be worthy of anything if not for a romantic relationship, but as the years go on, I've been so much less inclined to feel those ways.
People expect aromanticism to feel like a prison, and I think that's looking at it wrong. My aromanticism never imprisoned me - amatonormativity did. Being aromantic taught me that I can never and will never be "made whole" through romantic attraction. Amatonormativity teaches that to be whole is to be pursued, to be in love, to be possessed, essentially. Being aromantic has freed me of those expectations because I had to break those chains in order to truly understand what will make my life worth living.
I've been finding more and more that being allo will never appeal to me - I don't give a flying fuck about allo being "normal," and frankly if being normal means being allo, I simply just won't be normal.
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usnatarchives · 1 year
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(Don’t) PARTY LIKE IT'S 1918!
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Enemy Activities - German Revolution, War Department, World War I Photographs, 1917-1918, NARA ID 31478385.
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From our online catalog, emphasis added: The photographic files of the Historical Branch, War Plans Division, War Department General Staff were assembled by the Committee for Public Information and considered to be the “Unofficial Collection of World War I Photographs"... Some of the photographs depict the unity of the nation and how overwhelming the war effort was.
In contrast, U.S. Army officers on New Year's Day 1919:
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Staff Officers of 5th Army Corps Hq. On New Years Day with Major Gen. C.P. Summerall who gave a New Year’s party to his staff. NARA ID 86709262.
Related: See highlights from  curator Bruce Bustard’s incredible Spirited Republic National Archives exhibit. 
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balshumetsbaragouin · 4 months
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Lore Post: Goddess of Revelry, Celebration, and Gratitude
More Lore posts about Divine Spirits. This one doesn't have an AU or story dealing with her themes coming up, but she's still a fun Goddess. First one I've posted about too! Like Cernunnos and Aodh, she's one of the more minor of the Divine. You'll find a primer on her below!
Goddess of Revelry, Celebration, and Gratitude, Lúthgáir isn't poorly regarded because their domain is uncommon, like other lessor worshiped deities, but because their domain has very little conflict or reasons to go wrong.
The honored deity of festivals, feast days, and parties, her most common prayers are sent up by host(ess) throughout the Zone on the lead up to a grand celebration. The greater the occasion, the more intense the prayer. Brides/Grooms to be, head chefs and maids, butlers and homemakers all pray to her in the lead up and day of the event.
But because many of the events in question are about things falling under other deity's domains: The end of a war, the union of two families, the birth or birthday of a Clan member, much of the prayers about these celebrations go to these other deities, leaving only the preparations and the hope for fun with Lúthgáir.
The favored Goddess of drunks, bar flies, and social butterflies everywhere, she still gets plenty of idle daily worship instead of large offerings and fervent prayers. This makes her one of the more powerful deities, despite her curtailed domain and generally lower opinion of importance among those in the Zone.
As fun-loving as her namesake, and symbolized by wine, party favors, and streamers, she sees little worship among more solitary Reborns, instead having shrines and minor festivals among the cultures of the Neverborns who live throughout the Zone.
She is especially popular in the country of Kingdom Drazi, whose people enjoy vigorous parties and whose cities have bars filled to the brim every night. She is sometimes invoked as a warning to those who do not act with gratitude or who look at Good Times or Gifts of Plenty with scorn, warning her blessings will flee from the ungrateful and force upon them Bad Times.
As a result, though she isn't regarded to have much power, she is still well respected by those in a Zone, lest their beer spoil, all the presents get ruined, or the guests arrive late and in an ill-mood.
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Oliver is celebrating 2023 with a bang and a booty shake! 🎆🤣
Thank you all for following Positively Ghostly! I think 2023 is going to be an awesome year for all of us!
I make these comics for you and those out there that need some positivity in their lives. I want to continue that journey with you and see if we can bring smiles to anyone who needs it. 🙂
From the bottom of my heart, Happy New Year Tumblr family!! Love you all! 🎉 ❤️
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mocha-tapioca · 9 months
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mocha my beloved bestie happy birthday!!! i’m sorry i’m saying it so late but i hope you had an amazing day and i love you sm<3
ITS OKAY THANK U NYX :D
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luxurypinkglitter · 1 year
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angelkwill · 7 months
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Rhapsody
You can stay a prodigal, in your wayward ways;or you can join the rhapsody of re-union. The voice within speaks the invitation.Quiet yourself to hear. “My child, I Am near.There’s no chastisement;your arrival brings revival.Join in love and cheer!” -akw- ___©2023 Angel K WillBlog Photo by Bayu jefri from PexelsLive Inspired, Love Well, Laugh OftenCheck out the bookstore; check out the art…
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chillyfeetsteak · 3 months
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I first became fascinated with it a few years ago when I noticed it out an airplane window on a flight from Texas to Southern California. In an expanse of endless desert, suddenly, a vast body of water. When I got home, I immediately looked it up on a map. The Salton Sea.
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It’s the largest landlocked body of water in California. It sits right on top of the San Andreas Fault at over 200 feet below sea level. It is more than twice as salty as the Pacific Ocean. It is completely toxic. And I had never heard of it before then.
(photo essay under the cut)
In the early 1900s the Colorado River was diverted through a series of irrigation canals in order to provide water for the farmlands of Imperial Valley. One of the head-gates broke during a flood, and the desert basin filled with water for 2 years before it was fixed. The unexpected lake soon became a popular vacation destination; it was stocked with fish, and resorts and hotels popped up along its shores. It became known as a great place for sport fishing, waterskiing, and yacht parties. Big name celebrities visited. At one point, it had more annual visitors than Yosemite.
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Salton Sea has no outlet, and is only filled via agricultural runoff. As the water evaporated in the hot desert sun, the lake became more and more saline. Chemicals began to build up from the run off causing toxic algae blooms, and mass die-offs of fish and birds started in the 80s. By the 90s, the beaches were littered with fish gills and bird bones and the resorts were abandoned. The lake began to dry up as irrigation run-off was diverted away. The exposed lake bed is also toxic, and the high desert winds kick up the dust, making the air poisonous. 
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Despite the unpleasant odor, the noxious air and the summer temperatures regularly reaching 120°, a renaissance of sorts began in the early 2010s. Artist and nomad colonies began to spring up around Salton Sea. Bombay Beach, once a popular resort destination, is now mostly a ghost town, but the folks who remain have turned the ruins on the shores into an outdoor art installation gallery where the found-art sculptures are cyclically destroyed by the elements and then replaced with new ones. Many of the houses and RVs in town are themselves art pieces.
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In nearby Slab City, a settlement of off-the-grid lifestylers, you can find even more folk art. Salvation Mountain is a manmade hill painted with bright colors and bible verses and maintained by a community of volunteers. East Jesus is a sculpture garden and art installation. 
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This past weekend my partner and I finally made the pilgrimage to the Sea. California has the benefit of being home to a huge array of biomes. In just a couple of hours you can travel from snowy mountain peaks to lush oases to endless sand dunes. Driving the hour or so south from Palm Springs towards Salton Sea is like driving towards the end of the world.
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Bombay Beach especially enamored me. The beach is crusted with salt and millions of tiny shells and bones. It smells awful, like sewage and chemicals and low-tide and rotting fish. You drive out onto the beach and park anywhere amongst the sculptures and deteriorating resort ruins. The art feels raw in a way I haven’t experienced before. It reminds me of seeing paleolithic cave art. Humans made this, with no motivation other than to create something intriguing or beautiful or sad. Not much can live out here, but what you find fills me with a great adoration for humanity. Despite the asphyxiation of the natural world, the human spirit persists.
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d-criss-news · 1 year
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youtube
Siedah Garrett and Darren Criss perform “Man in the Mirror”
Oscar nominated and Grammy-winning songwriter Siedah Garrett (“Dreamgirls,” “Rio”), co-writer of the Michael Jackson hit “Man in the Mirror,” performs it during a celebration for Benj Pasek and Justin Paul’s shortlisted 2023 Oscar contender “Good Afternoon.” Tramp Stamp Granny’s co-owner and Emmy-winning actor Darren Criss provided back-up vocals with Laura Wiley on piano.
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melzula · 2 months
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Can you please write jealous Zuko? It can be however you like😊
a/n: i love jealous zuko! however this ended up being more angsty than i intended😭 hope you enjoy!
summary: a party at the palace leads to a deep revelation for zuko
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He was miserable.
The palace didn’t throw parties very often these days, but the recent conquering of another Earth colony was deemed a call for celebration, and so all of the noble families in the Capital City were invited to attend. A grand feast was held and praises were showered upon Ozai throughout the night. It was one of the rare times Zuko didn’t have to worry about his father’s wrath, and so he should have been enjoying himself.
But he couldn’t, not when he could see that across the way another boy was flirting with you right in front of him.
You were Zuko’s everything- his childhood best friend that he’d always held harbored feelings for. During his banishment he thought of you constantly, and upon his arrival he immediately asked you to be his girlfriend. You were sweet and friendly, easily approachable and always able to cheer him up despite his moodiness, you were perfect. And apparently this other boy could see this too.
You smile out of politeness and nod along to the boy’s rambling story about his fire bending skills and high IQ, not very interested in listening but too nice to brush him off. It infuriates Zuko to see someone else take advantage of your kindness, and he’s unable to just sit back and watch any longer.
A harsh hand lands upon the boy’s shoulder, startling both of you in the process. Zuko’s eyes are blazing with fury, his palm scorching the fabric of the boy’s robes and scaring the spirits out of him in the process.
“Can’t you take a hint? She doesn’t want to talk to you!” the Prince bellow angrily, prompting a few guests nearby to turn their heads curiously towards the commotion. A bit embarrassed at the sudden attention, you gently pull Zuko’s hand away and drag him out to the gardens before he can escalate the situation any further. The last thing you need is for him to cause a scene at his father’s party.
“What?” Zuko says defensively as you wordlessly walk through the palace hallways. “I was helping you!”
“You were acting jealous again,” you chide gently.
“No I wasn’t!” He argues defensively only to shrink under your pointed gaze. “…I was.”
“I love you, Zuko, but I don’t love how jealous you can get sometimes. I’m your girlfriend, don’t you trust me?”
“Of course I do!” He interjects quickly, almost offended at the notion.
“Then what is it? Why do you act this way?”
Zuko is silent, his eyes casted sullenly to the floor as you patiently wait for his answer. You take his hands in your own and give them a reassuring squeeze to let him know you’re there for him, and the act seems to coax him out of his stupor.
“I’m afraid you’ll change your mind about being with me, and once the right guy comes along you’ll realize you’re better off without me,” he admits quietly, almost ashamed to voice the thought out loud.
“Zuko…” you utter sadly, heartbroken at the fact that he could even believe such a thing.
“Why do you want to be with a boy who’s been exiled from his own country before? Whose own father burned his face? Who’s so messed up in every way possible?”
Gently carefully cupping his face in your hands, you tilt his head upward to meet your sincere gaze. His eyes are glossy with tears he refuses to let fall, and your heart aches for the poor boy before you. You wish you could take away all of his hurt in agony, but you can’t, so you do your best to take away his insecurity instead.
“I wish you could yourself the way I see you,” you tell him lovingly. “You are more than enough for me, more than I could ever ask for. You’re strong, you’re brave, you’re smart. You’re you. I love you, Zuko. No one’s ever going to get into the way of that.”
He says nothing in response but simply yanks you into his arms for the tightest hug you’ve ever possibly received. You know he isn’t the best at words or emotions, but his embrace conveys that he is grateful for every word to come out of your mouth.
He knows he may be jealous at times, but he also knows that he doesn’t have to be anymore.
Because you’re not going anywhere.
| atla tags: @sirkekselord @niktwazny303
| zuko tags: @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @taeeemin
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frantic-fiction · 3 months
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Tease 18+
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(Pic: cheekylittlepupp)
Astarion x f!reader, Astarion x Tav
Summary: The party is taking the night off. You're convinced to wear a dress, and Astarion just can't control himself.
Warnings: Smut, MDNI, Semi-public sex, caught in the act?
Word Count: 3.2k
Mastarlist
Standing in front of the mirror, you pull at the dark green fabric, tugging it down this way and that. You try again to tie the corset but give up quickly. You swing your hips, and the flowy skirt swishes, tickling the skin above your knees. Looking yourself up and down, you zone in on your hips, squirming at the fabric extenuating your curves. So much skin on display makes you want to steal someone's spare cloak to hide in. You weren't one to be self-conscious, but you're used to donning armor and leather, not this scrap of fabric Karlach had convinced you to buy. 
You should just change. Grab some leggings and one of Astarion's shirts, and call it a night. You didn't need a dress to catch his eye; you know how Astarion feels about you; wearing a dress won't change that. Backing away from the mirror, you're just about to rip the dress off when Karlach bursts into the room, Shadowheart following behind her at a much tamer pace. 
"Soldier!" Karlach squeals, stopping suddenly in the middle of the room. She slaps her hands on either side of her face. "You. Are. Gorgeous!" Your face burns as Karlach pounces on you, spinning you around to give her the best view from every angle. Heat creeps up your chest and you giggle awkwardly.
"She's right, you look stunning," Shadowheart smirked and added, "Ten gold Astarion won't be able to keep it in his pants."
"20, he won't make it to a room," Karlach shouts.
"Gods! You both are ridiculous." You squeal, swatting Karlach's hands away and stepping back from her excitement. You huff and fix your skirt. Crossing your hands over your chests, you glare at the girls before timidly looking off to the side. "So, I don't look silly?" The hesitation is evident.
"All joking aside, I assure you, soldier, you are beautiful. And I know for a fact Fangs won't be able to keep his eyes off of you."
You beam under Karlach's compliment, doing a few excited calf raises because you have no idea how else to handle her words. Shadowheart moves towards you and fixes a fallen strand of hair. She gives you a soft smile and moves to finish lacing your corset, patting your arm when she’s done.
"Now we should go. The others are waiting downstairs," Shadowheart motions everyone to the door, letting you take a moment to slip your shoes on. 
After months of endless travels and brutal battles, the party decided to take the evening to drink, relax, and enjoy each other's company. A night to forget the tadpoles and the Absolute. All except Lae'zel, who scoffed at the idea, were joining in on the fun.
Descending the stairs, you slammed with the melody of lively tunes played by a band of minstrels, competing with the animated conversations of patrons. The music, infused with the spirit of celebration, is so loud that it vibrates through the wooden beams of the tavern. The dance floor is alive with energetic movements as couples twirl and spin to the rhythm and the joyous laughter of those lost in the moment.
The bar is surrounded by a sea of drunk patrons clamoring for attention. Tankards slammed onto the worn surface as the bartender poured frothy ale and mead expertly. The dim light of flickering candles and oil lamps casts a warm glow on the diverse crowd. The unmistakable odors of stale ale, greasy food, and the tang of sweat intermingle in the air, creating a distinctive nostalgic and pungent aroma. You're lost in the crowd's movement, overwhelmed with the sounds. You grab onto Shadowheart's elbow like a lifeline.
"Karlach!" Wyll calls and you all snap your head to the side. The party had claimed a booth, and Gale and Wyll were standing up, waving their arms over their heads. They looked like they started early on the drinking; both men's faces were flush, and they each held an easy, dopey grin.
"Wyll!" Karlach linked her arms with yours and Shadowheart's and approached the table. You let her pull you, too busy searching for him. Astarion is slow to stand, but you know the moment he sets his eyes on you. You watch the subtle change in his body language. His hand tightened around the goblet; the exaggerated inhale of air as if someone had kicked him, watching the hunger grow in his eyes.
Now, you feel the confidence bloom in your chest. The dress no longer makes you squirm in discomfort; no, it gives you power and makes you feel desired and sexy. The flame ignites low in your abdomen. Suddenly, you were playing with fire and excited to get burned. A smug smile stretches your lips the closer you get. Pulling away from Karlach, you move and hook your arms around Astarion's neck. You pull him down and place a kiss on his cheek.
"Hi, handsome," you smile up at him, feeling his hand caress the small of your back. Cold fingers playing at the edge of the corset.
"Hello darling, you look breathtaking." He pushes you back gently, giving him space to take in your attire. "Turn for me, my love. Let me look upon the goddess before me."
You roll your eyes at his cheesiness but oblige his request, spinning slowly to allow Astarion to take in every angle. When you come full circle, Astarion captures your lips, and you fall against his chest. His lips meld against yours in a sensual kiss that was entirely inappropriate for the amount of people around, but neither of you seemed to care. Humming against his mouth, you cup his jaw and pull his face away. Astarion chases your lips and lets out a low groan when you deny him what he wants.  
You give Astarion a mischievous grin, patting his chest when you ask. "Do you mind getting me a drink?" 
He gives you a pointed look, visibly dissatisfied with his kiss. With one look and your hand running up his chest and over his shoulder, Astarion caves with a huff. "Yes, of course. Would you like your usual?"
"Yes, please." You say pecking his lips a final time before joining your friends in the booth. 
Wyll was regaling the table with a tale of his early days as the Blade of Frontiers when Astarion slides in beside you. He sets your drink down, and you whisper your thanks before taking a sip and focusing back on Wyll. Gale is quick to call out Wyll's bullshit, Shadowheart pointing out the exaggeration the warlock had blended into his story. It soon devolved into a bickering match as Wyll tried to defend himself. You chuckle between sips of wine, leaning into Astarion, setting your head gently against his shoulder. His hand had found your bare thigh, fingers kneading the supple flesh. 
Suddenly, your friends become background noise as your senses hone in on Astarion. The cheeky smirk that stretches his lips tells you he knows exactly what he's doing as Astarion inches his smooth hand further under your dress—never crossing the line but far enough to make you clench your legs together in need. You bite your lip, cheeks burning from more than the alcohol, and reach down to take his hand in yours. 
"I know what you're doing,"
"Oh, and what is that, my dear?" Astarion grins, bringing your hand to his lips and gently kissing your knuckles. He leans to your ear, "Do you not want me to touch you?" His breath cascades over your neck, and a shiver runs up your spine.
"Not when you're trying to tease me in public."
"My sweet girl, I'm not the one being a tease."
"Soldier! Stop making goo-goo eyes at Fangs, and come dance with me!" Karlach yells across the table, breaking whatever spell Astarion had you under. Pulling away, you look up to see Karlach jumping up and down, hand outstretched for you to take. 
"You know I won't say no to dancing." Astarion reluctantly moves to let you out of the booth. Karlach is quick to grab your hand and pull you towards the stage. 
The time is lost in the beat of the drums and the flow of your hips. Karlach twirls you around, and you can't stop giggling. Wyll joins in the fun, and suddenly, the crowd has formed a unified line dance. It's messy, and you don't know the steps, but you watch Wyll and poke fun at Karlach's improvised moves. You dance until your breath is ragged and your feet start hurting. Moving your body until the sea of people starts to drown you. Maybe it's the alcohol coursing through your veins or the excitement of the dancing. Still, the fun quickly turns to overstimulation that blankets you in thick sheets. In an instant, the room is too hot and too loud, and if you don't get out now, you just might scream.
You leave Karlach and move towards the door outside to the back alley. Pushing it open, you stumble over the threshold and inhale the cold night air. It instantly sobers, clearing your mind and easing your panic. You stare up at the starry sky, soaking in the bright moon. Goosebumps spread over your exposed arms and legs, and you shiver. It doesn't stop you from stepping further into the alleyway as you breathe and allow your heart to settle its pounding. You can still hear the muffled music and thumping feet. 
You hear the door open again but pay it no mind until Astarion speaks, "There you are, my sweet."
You turn on your heel and give him a soft smile. He glowed under the moonlight, an ethereal being standing before you, his face partially cast in shadow, staring at you with hunger. "I needed some air."
"I'm sure you did," Astarion smirks, stepping closer toward you. A predator stalks up to its prey. "All that dancing you were doing must have been exhausting."
"It was, but it was so fun." You reach out instinctually, wrapping your arms around his neck. Astarion smoothes his hands down your spine to the swell of your butt, moving to squeeze the soft, plump flesh. "You should join me next time." You squeak at his grip, pressing yourself closer to him.
Then his lips are on yours, and your back is digging into the rough brick of the alleyway. Astarion's tongue is in your mouth, and you're moaning, gripping his shoulders to find purchase. One of his fangs nipped your bottom lip, and your knees practically buckled under you. You would have fallen if Astarion hadn't pressed you against the wall. 
"I think I just might take you dancing tomorrow." His cold hands caress your thigh, pulling it up and over his hip, pushing up the fabric of your dress with it. "I'll buy you a pretty new dress to add to your growing collection, and I'll have you move your body for me like you've been doing all night." 
He rolls his hips into yours, and you cry into his neck, kissing his skin to muffle your noises. "Swaying those hips in this tight little thing. Gods darling, I've been hard all night, and it's entirely your fault, you naughty little minx."
"Astarion," You sigh, relishing the friction of his hard cock against your clothed core. 
"Such a cruel woman, dangling a feast over a starving man. I'll have to punish you for that." Astarion purrs, running his nose along the line of your jaw, stopping to bite at his favorite spot; his fangs puncture the surface just enough to have droplets of your blood trickle out.
His tongue lavishes over your skin, making sure not a drop escapes. The moan that rumbles through his chest is purely animalistic, and a rush of heat gushes between your legs. "But right now, my naughty girl, I'm going to fuck you here against this wall." 
You let out a whimper, hips bucking instinctually, heat coiling in your lower stomach. "Please.." 
Astarion takes no time to push your underwear aside and push two of his fingers into your folds with a lewd, wet sound. Astarion begins to pump his fingers in and out of your dripping cunt, with each stroke curling up just slightly. The rough pad of his thumb finds your swollen clit, and applying pressure, he circles the nub in time with his fingers. 
"You're already so drenched, always so ready for me." You pull his face in and sigh into his mouth, niping his lip playfully. Threading your hand through his soft curls, you give a soft tug, relishing in the grunt Astarion gives you. 
You're painfully aware of your surroundings and know that someone could step out and catch the two of you any moment. The thought gives you a jolt of excitement you'll have to think about later. There is no room to take your time, so you tug harder on Astarion's hair loss, pulling his lips from the flesh of your neck he was playing with.
"Star," You roll your hips against his hand impatiently. "I need you to fuck me already,"
"So impatient, but you are right. This is not the time to play." Astarion tsk before unceremoniously ripping your underwear off and stuffing them in his pocket. 
"I liked those."
"I'll buy you a new pair, maybe one to match your new dress." Astarion peppers kiss down your neck. Your hands move to pull his pants down, freeing his cock. It's red and looks painfully swollen. Astarion hisses through his teeth when you give the base of his cock a tight squeeze. 
"I want one that matches the new dress and the same ones you just ripped." You countered, giving him a few languid strokes using his precum as a lubricant. 
"Whatever you want, my love." He says mindlessly, taking you into another breathtaking kiss.
Astarion hands leave your cunt, and a whine leaves your lips. He kisses your pout and quickly grabs his cock. Astarion pumps himself a few more times before lining up at your entrance. When Astarion sheaths himself fully in your heat, the wind is knocked out of you. A collective groan of ecstasy escapes from both of your mouths. There is no build-up, no room to catch your breath. Astarion quickly pulls out and slams back into you—your back scraps against the bricks, and your foot slips on the cobblestone.
You yelp scrambling to hold on and not fall pathetically onto the dirty alley floor. Astarion, without skipping a beat, scoops you up fully in his arms. All you can do is wrap your legs around his hips and hold on as he pounds into your dripping cunt. 
"Gods, you're perfect," Astarion signs into your neck. He pulls at your dress, moving the corset just enough to expose one of your breasts. He bends his head and sucks your nipple into his mouth. You choke on a gasp; cupping the back of his head, you press him further against you. 
"Astarion," you moan, carding your fingers into his curls. Rolling your hips, you match his thrusts. Your lower stomach tightens, and you will not last much longer. Not with him pulling you apart in the way only he can. You tried to say as much, but you choke on a sob when Astarion's fingers find your clit. 
He grinds your hips into the brick wall and brutalizes your clit with tight circles. His voice is raspy in your ears. "I'm close, love…ngh - gods, you feel so good."
"A-astarion, please!" Tears bead down your cheeks, pleasure overwhelming your senses. Your muscles are tightening. Your legs quake, and you clench tightly around him. 
"That’s it, come for me, beautiful." And that is all you need to see stars, opening your mouth in a silent cry. Ecstasy courses through your veins, and you bite down on his collarbone to ground yourself in your pleasure. His hips stutter, pace faltering as he loses himself in your body, spilling his seed deep into you. 
Neither of you moves; the brick is now uncomfortably digging into your back, but you can't find the energy to care. Astarion peppers kiss up and down your neck. You scratch his scalp softly and catch your breath. It’s nice.
"I guess I should wear more dresses."
"My dear, you could wear a burlap sack, and I would have still taken you against this wall."
"Horny bastard." 
The two of you were too caught up in each other to notice the tavern door opening again. Nor did either of you notice two figures stepping out. At least not until Karlach's loud cackle echoed down the alleyway. You whip your head in her direction, Astarion following suit. Karlach is hunched over and on her knees, shoulders shaking with laughter. Shadowheart stands beside her, arms crossed with disgust and annoyance plastered on her face.
Astarion is quick to turn you away, shielding you with his body. He let’s you go and you scramble to cover yourself. He helps you fix your dress. Great. 
"What did I tell you? Fangs couldn't keep it in his pants long enough to find a room!" Karlach booms, slapping Shadowheart on the arm. "Hand it over," her palm extended in wait. You hide your face in Astarion's neck, face burning in embarrassment. 
Shadowheart mumbled something under her breath, digging in her pocket for her gold pouch. "Here," the gold is slapped into the tieflings palm. She turns to the two of you. "Find a different cleric to cure whatever disease you've contracted in this filthy alley." Shadowheart quickly turns back into the tavern, the door slamming behind her. 
"Well, thanks for the gold," The tiefling beams and skips after Shadowheart, leaving you and Astarion alone once more. 
You refuse to leave the space between Astarion's jaw and collarbone. Thoughts of packing your stuff and running to Candlekeep are crossing your mind. Karlach and Shadowheart are already telling Wyll and Gale about your exploits, and you don't want to handle the smug looks. 
Astarion's chest rumbles with silent laughter, and you're pulled from your escape plans. You emerge from your safe space and glare up at the man. "What's so funny?!" 
He laughs harder, and runs his thumb over your pout, cupping your jaw. You hold firm in your annoyance and turn your head. "Karlach is telling all of our friends that we just fucked in a dirty back alley, why would you be laughing?" You snap.
"You would think at this point Shadowheart would stop betting on our love life. Tsk, all the gold she's lost." You narrow your eyes at him. His playful smirk widens. "She and the other weirdos should know how shamelessly I want you. They were lucky I didn't fuck you on the table." 
Rolling your eyes, you shove him hard, forcing Astarion to stumble back. Moving past you storm towards the door; he's laughing and calling your name. Astarion, only get your middle finger before the tavern door closes behind you.
Astarion is a cheeky shit. I love him.... Let me know what ya thought, i love your feedback.
Taglist: heartfully10, ayselluna
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hadeantaiga · 6 months
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If you're confused as to why some Jewish people find the Christmas season frustrating...
It can already be annoying even if you're Christian or culturally Christian. If you celebrate Christmas, you're participating in a religious Christian activity, I don't care how atheist you are.
And Christmas is relentless during the next two months. You literally cannot escape it. Christmas-themed decorations are literally everywhere, from people's houses to banners and lights affixed to public lampposts in every downtown area across the nation. Stores, schools, libraries, government buildings. It's everywhere. Half of all the radio stations play non-stop Christmas music. Every store plays a Christmas sound track. Salvation Army bell ringers dressed like Santa outside every big store. TV channels playing Christmas movies. Every online streamer and YouTuber does a Christmas episode. Christians use the season to proselytize, to convert.
The rest of the year, Christianity in the USA is background radiation: it's there, but it's easier to ignore. During Christmas? It's in your face and in your ears 24/7. For the better part of two MONTHS.
And now you have to remember Christianity's history of, you know, killing Jews, forcing them to convert, etc. And remember how people are so resistant to putting up any other kind of holiday decoration. They'll call something a "holiday party", but still only decorate in green and red and forget a menorah.
And maybe it's a little easier to understand why this is all so annoying, at best.
Note: this post isn't saying Christians shouldn't go hog wild. It IS saying that you need to understand that not everyone celebrates Christmas, and will therefore not share in the "Christmas spirit".
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ode-to-spring · 1 year
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WAIT ITS CHRISTMAS
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incognit0slut · 4 months
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Better for you
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Spencer spends the change of year with a new resolution as he starts looking at his rival differently.
(THIS CAN BE READ AS A STANDALONE BUT IS TECHNICALLY A THIRD PART FOR LOSE CONTROL AND THE LAST LAUGH)
words: 4.6k Category: fluff (surprisingly this is not my usual NSFW work) warnings: kissing, suggestive content a/n: I’m killing two birds with one stone here. One, I caved in and did another part for this rival couple. And two, I wrote this as a participation in @imagining-in-the-margins office party writing challenge🥳 Here are the prompts: 1. The team hardly believes it when Character A agrees to dance with B. 2. “I just never saw you as a... party type of person."
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WAS A PARTY SUPPOSED TO BE THIS BORING? A subtle sigh escaped her lips as she glanced around the backyard. When Rossi invited the team to gather around at his house in celebration of the new year, everybody was on board.
"Who would say no to a David Rossi party?" JJ had said, which led her to bring her family along the occasion. Even Simmons brought his wife and five little kids. And now Rossi’s place never looked so alive with this many people, it seemed that everyone was present at this joyful soirée.
Everyone but one person, that is.
She turned her attention back to the drink in her hand, leaning against the open bar Rossi had set up, her mind drifting towards a certain man. It wasn't like she was keeping tabs on him. Really, she wasn't. It just happened that his absence became surprisingly noticeable when he decided to take some time off work to visit his mom, even days before Christmas break.
How long had it been since the last time she saw him? Two weeks? Three? It seemed like a considerable amount of time had passed since she saw was forced to work with him, which happened during the case in a remote town. And despite successfully apprehending the Unsub days later, her resistance to temptation, unfortunately, wasn't as successful.
It was hard not to think of what happened during the travel when it kept playing in her mind like a broken record. It was as if the memories were engraved in her brain—his slick, sweaty body pressing against hers; his soft lips caressing her skin; his large hands roaming her curves, traveling to places that had her hot and wet—
What the hell was wrong with her?
She took a sip of her drink—or more like chugging it down—trying to test if the burning sensation could wash away her filthy mind.
"Whoa," a sudden voice broke through her haze and she looked up to find Luke standing close to her. "Easy there."
His easygoing grin met her gaze as he gestured toward her almost empty glass. She shrugged, aiming the glass toward him in a mock toast. "Just trying to enjoy the party."
"Yeah?" He chuckled, leaning against the bar.
She shot him a sideways glance. "What's it to you, Alvez?"
His grin widened. "Well, when someone's drinking like they're on a mission, it catches my attention. Everything okay?"
She hesitated for a moment before responding, her tone calm. "I'm just getting into the party spirit, you know?"
Luke raised an eyebrow, his playful demeanor unwavering. "Is that so? Or are you trying to drown out some thoughts?"
She scoffed. "Thoughts? What thoughts?"
"The kind that makes you chug down your drink."
"You're imagining things. I'm simply enjoying this..." Her eyes scanned the party, trying to find a word describing the ongoing festive. "...ambiance."
"Alone by the table full of alcohol?"
"Well, someone's got to keep an eye on these drinks from disappearing too quickly."
"Hmm," He responded. "It kind of seems like you're waiting for someone to join the party."
Her cheeks warmed slightly, and she scoffed again. "I know who you're referring to, and no, I am not waiting for anyone."
He leaned in, the mischief in his eyes unwavering. "So, you're telling me that if Reid walked in right now, you wouldn't do a happy dance?"
"Please, there would be no happy dance," she said, rolling her eyes. "Just a casual acknowledgment, maybe."
"Casual acknowledgment? You're going with that?" His grin widened, his teasing persistence unyielding. "There's nothing casual about you two."
"If you mean hating each other's gut, then sure, there is nothing casual about Reid and me."
"He doesn't hate you, you know." She gave him a deadpanned look, her skepticism evident in her arched brow. Luke laughed. "Fine, he disliked the idea of having another prodigy on the team. When he got out of prison, he felt like you were his replacement."
She frowned. "I kind of was. Emily wanted someone to fill in for his absence while he was away."
Luke raised an eyebrow, his expression turning thoughtful. "True, but I think you're starting to grow on him." She shook her head, trying to brush off the comment. "I'm serious, I think you made an impression."
Her skepticism lingered as she fully turned towards him, pointing a finger at him. "So you’re telling me every time he tried to pick a fight he was actually impressed by my intelligence?"
"Well, Reid's got this... unique way of expressing himself, but trust me, he respects you."
She raised an eyebrow. "Now you're just pushing it."
"There's got to be something more than what you're letting on. He's not exactly subtle, you know."
She leaned back slightly, trying to maintain composure. "You're reading too much into it. Reid and I have..." a complicated dynamic between coworkers who hate each other but had sex twice—well, three, including that one time in the shower. "...a professional relationship," she decided to say.
His grin widened. "Professional? I've seen the way you two spar during cases."
She huffed. "It's just our way of solving problems. It doesn't mean anything more."
Luke's expression turned thoughtful. "I've worked with him for a while, and he usually doesn't go back and forth with people in smart talk. There must be something about you that intrigues him."
"Or irritates him," she added dryly. "You're giving him too much credit."
"Maybe," he admitted with a laugh. "But I don’t know, he might surprise you one of these days."
She shot him a skeptical glance. "I highly doubt that."
"Yeah?" He suddenly looked past her, a sly grin forming. "Then maybe should find out for yourself."
Confused, she turned around to see what had caught his attention…. And time seemed to slow as her eyes widened in surprise when she spotted Spencer entering the party, a casual smile on his face as he greeted everyone. For a moment, their eyes locked, and despite her attempts to remain nonchalant, a subtle flutter danced in her chest.
She quickly looked away, her attempt to maintain composure falling apart.
"See what I mean?" Luke's voice broke through her thoughts.
She rolled her eyes, trying to deflect. "It's just a party, people look at each other. There's nothing special."
He raised an eyebrow and responded with a hint of sarcasm. “Sure."
"I'm serious. Stop reading into it."
"Alright, I won't."
That only annoyed her even more. She took a deep breath, attempting to regain control of the situation. "You're insufferable."
"What? I believe you," he replied. "I mean, nothing could've happened between two people who were locked together and then forced to share a room, right?"
She shot him a glare, but before she could say anything, she felt a presence coming up behind her. A sudden chill ran down her spine as she caught a whiff of scent she was accustomed to by now, something woody and fresh with a subtle hint of sweetness.
"Reid," Luke greeted as he gave her a side glance before moving towards Spencer, casually dropping an arm around his shoulders. "It's good to see you. How's your mom?"
Spencer's eyes met hers briefly before responding to Luke, "She's doing well, thanks."
“Good to hear.” Luke nodded his head towards her. "Y/n here was just telling me how much she missed you during the holidays."
Suppressing a groan, she shot him a warning look. Spencer, however, responded with a small smile. "You did?"
Her cheeks warmed slightly, caught off guard by his direct question. She feigned nonchalance, offering a casual shrug. "Please, I was just mourning the lack of someone to challenge my wisdom."
Luke chuckled and gave her one last pointed look before excusing himself with a pretense of Rossi calling him somewhere from the crowd. Her eyes narrowed on his back as he walked away, shaking her head in disbelief. "That man coming close to being second place on my hate list."
"I take it I'm still on your number one spot then."
She turned towards him at the sound of his voice, and now that they were alone, she finally took her time to observe him.
Her eyes scanned his clothes, taking in the details. From the carefully styled hair that hinted at the time he took to prepare, to the open dress shirt that he seemed unbothered to button all the way, exposing his long neck and the slight expanse of his chest. He looked good. He looked clean, polished, and undeniably handsome.
She blinked and cleared her throat, attempting to regain composure. "Well, you certainly took your time getting ready."
He met her gaze with a hint of amusement in his eyes, seemingly aware of her scrutinizing observation. "I believe in making a good impression," he replied, a subtle smile on his lips.
She arched an eyebrow, resisting the urge to acknowledge the effect his appearance had on her. "Trying to win over the crowd with something beyond your brain?"
"Partly," he admitted, "And partly because someone once told me that a well-dressed genius is a force to be reckoned with."
"Must have been Garcia."
He grinned. "You know her well."
She took another sip of her drink, a blend of sweet and bitter notes dancing on her tongue. Keeping her eyes on him over the rim of her glass, she observed the play of shadows on his face, accentuating the angles of his features. The ambient light from the party cast a subtle glow, and she couldn't help but notice how it highlighted the soft strands of hair that fell gracefully across his forehead.
"I'm actually surprised to see you here," she slowly remarked, her voice laced with curiosity.
"Surprised? Should I be offended?"
"I just never saw you as a... party type of person."
"I'm not," he agreed. "The only exception of social gathering I can endure is with everyone present here."
"Including me?"
“Especially you."
Her demeanor faltered for a split second, caught off guard by the unexpected turn in his tone. It wasn't the usual witty remark she anticipated. A flicker of surprise crossed her features before she could conceal it, her throat clearing as she attempted to regain control over her beating heart.
"Especially… me?" she echoed, attempting to mask the surprise in her voice.
Spencer's gaze held a warmth that felt unfamiliar, and he nodded. "It seems social events are more bearable when you're around."
She tilted her head and studied him. "You're just saying that because you have someone to pick a fight with."
"A fight?" He wondered. "Is that what we've been doing?"
"It's what we've always been doing."
"Not for the past few weeks, we haven't."
She knew what he was referring to. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of indulging in a conversation about their sexual escapades, she instead responded with, "Well, you haven't, I'm still trying to play my part here."
He chuckled softly, the sound resonating in the quiet space between them. "And what part would that be?"
"The one where I constantly question the liability of your knowledge, of course."
Spencer's smile widened, the lines of his face softening. "Maybe," he began, his voice low, "We can explore different roles that don't involve any fighting."
She raised an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting a truce, Dr. Reid?"
"More like a change of tactics, Dr. L/n," he replied, gently taking the glass from her hand and placing it by the bar.
Her frown deepened, uncertainty in her eyes. "What are you doing?"
He nodded toward the center of the backyard where most of their team members filled the space of the party. "Dance with me."
She gazed towards the dance floor, then back at him, and her brows furrowed. That did not sound like the Spencer she knew, heck, she wasn't sure she had ever seen him dance before. Her eyes narrowed further when he gave her a grin.
"Come on, it's just a dance. It won't kill you," he urged, extending a hand towards her.
She eyed his outstretched hand with mock skepticism. "Are you implying that dancing with you is some kind of survival?"
Spencer grinned. "Considering the number of times you've survived my intellect, this should be a walk in the park."
She rolled her eyes. "Intellect, yes. Dancing? I'll take my chances."
"Are you afraid you'll step on my toes?" he teased.
"More like I'm afraid you'll step on mine," she shot back.
Spencer chuckled. "Just one dance, and if you don't enjoy it, you can revert to questioning the liability of my knowledge."
Her eyes drifted between his outstretched hand and his gaze, a silent contemplation unfolding within her. She knew that if she agreed to this, there was no turning back. Was it a wise decision? Probably not. But a small, rebellious part of her was curious to see how the night would unfold.
Spencer watched her with a patient expression, his hand still extended. The music continued to play, a steady beat that seemed to echo the pulse of the night, and after a moment's hesitation, she sighed in mock exasperation.
"Fine," she said, finally placing her hand in his, "But I reserve the right to make sarcastic remarks about your dance moves later."
"Deal," he agreed, leading her onto the dance floor with a grin.
She could feel everyone's scrutiny on them as he pulled her onto the dance floor, her breath hitching when he grabbed her other hand and placed her arms around his neck before snaking his arms around her waist.
"Everyone's watching us, aren't they?" she asked as they started to move to the soft beat of the music.
Spencer's gaze held a mischievous glint as he twirled her around, navigating the dance floor with surprising grace. "Let them watch," he replied, his voice low, sending a shiver down her spine. "It's just a dance, after all."
"You don't strike me as the 'just a dance' kind of person." She arched an eyebrow, unable to shake off the sense that there was more to this move than met the eye. "You don't even strike me as someone who even knows how to dance."
He shrugged. "Dancing is easy. All you have to do is move in circles and hold on to your partner."
He proved his point by pulling her further into his arms, and she couldn't help but notice the contrast in their heights. His broad chest pressed against her, the softness of his abdomen against her stomach, while his arms securely wrapped around her body.
Her breath caught for a moment, her gaze instinctively locking with his. The initial awkwardness transformed into a surprising ease, and she reciprocated the movements with a newfound confidence. The subtle sways and turns took on a rhythm of their own, syncing perfectly with the music that enveloped them.
"See?" he whispered, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down her spine. "Easy."
They continued to move to the rhythm, and she couldn't help but notice the intensity in his gaze. The world around them seemed to blur, and for a moment, she actually enjoyed being held close to him.
But before she could fully relax in his arms, JJ appeared on the dance floor, hand in hand with her husband Will. The look of disbelief in their friend's eyes was unmistakable as the couple approached them while being tangled in their own dance.
"Are my eyes deceiving me," JJ teased, a playful smile dancing on her lips. "Or are you two getting along quite well?"
She rolled her eyes, attempting to maintain a casual facade. "It's just a dance. Don't read too much into it."
JJ's grin widened as she exchanged a knowing look with Will. "I didn't think I'd see the day when you and Reid would willingly share the dance floor."
She shot a glance at Spencer, and there was a momentary flicker of something in his eyes—was it surprise? amusement? She couldn't quite place it. Collecting herself, she responded with a mock grimace, "He forced me into it."
Spencer's expression turned playful. "I have a way of convincing people to do things they didn't know they wanted to do."
"You mean manipulate."
He chuckled. "Persuade, Y/n. It's all about perspective."
From the corner of her eyes, she saw JJ and Will exchanging another pointed look. "Either way, you both look like you're having a good time."
"And you both look good together," Will added.
"Thank you."
"We're not together."
They both looked at each other while JJ raised an eyebrow, her grin widening. "Yet here you are. Spence, you might have just discovered a hidden talent—getting Y/n to dance."
She let out a sigh. "Don't encourage him."
Spencer leaned in, his tone low. "You're just mad because you're enjoying this."
She narrowed her eyes. "Let's not get carried away."
"Come on, just admit it," The corners of his lips lifted in a playful smirk. "You're having more fun than you expected."
"Fun?" She scoffed, attempting to deflect the growing warmth in her cheeks. "I wouldn't call this fun. It's just an unfortunate consequence of being at a party."
"Yet you can't deny that you're not entirely opposed to the idea."
She shot him a glare. "You're dangerously close to overestimating your influence."
"Or maybe you're underestimating your willingness to enjoy the moment."
She shook her head, turning towards JJ. "Can you believe him—"
She stopped when she realized they had been left alone for a while, noticing JJ and Will were already at the other side of the dance floor. However as her eyes scanned around them, the scrutiny of the others didn't go unnoticed by her. She fixed her gaze back on Spencer.
"We must be such a sight to see," she remarked. "I bet they're starting some rumors about us."
He raised his eyebrows. "You think they haven't already?"
She sighed, acknowledging his words. "Fair point."
"What do you think they're saying about us?"
She considered for a moment. "That we secretly don't hate each other," she responded after contemplating her answer. "I think they might be disappointed when they realize the truth."
His arms instinctively tightened around her waist. "And what's the truth?"
She studied him, her heart suddenly beating fast. Weeks ago, she would have answered the question with certainty, stating that they were nothing more than coworkers who were both very stubborn. But as she felt his eyes watching her intently, she wasn't so sure anymore.
"The truth?" she echoed, her voice a little softer than she intended. "I don't know, Reid. What is our truth?"
He held her gaze, and for a moment, she was hypnotized by the look in his eyes. "Well, the part where we secretly don't hate each other is true, for me at least."
Her breath caught as she absorbed his words.
“…you don't hate me?"
"Hate is a very strong word." Spencer leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. "Hate is often fueled by fear or misunderstanding. It's a complex emotion rooted in our perceptions and experiences. So, in a way, hate is a reflection of the mind rather than a true evaluation of a person."
She couldn't help but let out a disbelieving laugh. "Did you just use psychology to explain why you don't hate me?"
"Considering our line of work, it seemed appropriate."
She shook her head in amusement. "Only you would analyze hate in the middle of a dance."
Spencer continued, "Well, understanding emotions is crucial in our field. And I believe there's more to us than mere hostility."
She pursed her lips together, her mind suddenly going through the times they often bickered. "I still find it hard to believe you didn't hate me the first time we met."
"Dislike would be a better way to put it. But I was at my lowest point at that time. It wasn't just you, I was angry at everyone. At the circumstances. At myself." He slightly leaned back and sighed. "And I admit, it was wrong of me to take it out on you."
Then after a moment of silence, he whispered, "I'm sorry."
She felt the warmth of his embrace, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against hers. The apology hung in the air and she found herself at a loss for words. For a fleeting moment, the walls she had built seemed to crumble, leaving her standing on the precipice of something unfamiliar.
She took a deep breath, her voice barely above a whisper, "And how do you see me now?"
Spencer's gaze held a thoughtful intensity as he considered her question. "I think you're someone who challenges me. There's a depth to you beyond the harsh glare and cold shoulder." He eased, pressing a hand on her lower back. "And, if I may say, someone who looks surprisingly stunning on the dance floor."
A blush crept over her cheeks, and she narrowed her eyes, wondering if he had another motive behind the compliment. "You're using flattery now? Are you trying to get in my pants again?"
He laughed. "Is it working?"
She rolled her eyes, suppressing a smile. "Nice try, Reid. Flattery might get you far, but not that far."
His grin widened, and he guided her through the dance floor with ease. "Well, I'll have to come up with better tactics then."
His touch, gentle and deliberate, sent a shiver down her spine as his thumb traced an almost hypnotic pattern on the small of her back through the fabric of her dress. The soft caress felt both intimate and tender, catching her off guard. "I mean it though," he said, his voice a soft murmur that resonated with honesty. "You do look beautiful tonight."
There was something in his gaze that was unfamiliar, even hearing him easily compliment her was foreign in her ears. Her confusion must have been evident on her face because he smiled at her. "What?"
She shook her head, dismissing her thoughts. "Nothing. It's just... unexpected, coming from you."
He chuckled, the sound vibrating against her as they moved in sync with the music. "It's part of my New Year's resolution."
"What? To be nicer?" She guessed. "Be a better person?"
"To be a better person for you," he corrected.
Her heartbeat picked up, and she found herself drawing closer to him, the music weaving a subtle spell around them. The warmth radiating from him, the soft glow of the string lights, and the gentle melody created an intimate atmosphere that blurred the lines between the hostility she often wore.
The distance between them diminished, and she felt the subtle shift in the air. Without registering what she was doing, her fingers came up behind his neck, softly playing with the strands of his hair. They were so soft, just like the look reflected in his eyes. Then her gaze went down to his lips; they too looked incredibly soft.
"Stop looking at me like that."
Her eyes snapped to his. "Like what?"
"Like you want to close the distance between us," he whispered, his voice a low murmur that sent a shiver down her spine. "Because I'm trying to restrain myself from doing just that."
His fingers found the small of her back, pressing gently, while hers continued their silent dance in his hair. Every touch, every movement, fueled the escalating heat between them. His proximity was intoxicating, and the magnetic pull between them was undeniable. The distance diminished further until she could feel his breath, warm and inviting, grazing against her lips.
But before she could indulge herself, Garcia's voice echoed somewhere in the crowd. "It's the final countdown, people!"
Suddenly becoming aware of their surroundings, she released her arms from around his neck and shifted her gaze elsewhere. Her eyes landed on the projector screen, previously used by the kids for a movie marathon and now it displayed the vibrant scenes of people joyously ringing in the New Year celebration.
As the digital numbers on the screen ticked down, the energy in the backyard intensified. The countdown became a collective heartbeat, a shared anticipation that echoed through the crowd.
"Ten! Nine! Eight!"
In those final moments, she stole a glance at Spencer, their eyes locking silently.
"Seven! Six! Five!"
But his stare became so intense that she quickly looked away.
"Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!"
The cheers erupted, and the backyard was bathed in the glow of fireworks, the sky above adorned with bursts of color. She watched the dazzling display in awe, the explosions of light reflecting in her eyes.
Amidst the celebratory chaos, she noticed her friends wrapped in the arms of their loved ones, celebrating happily. JJ and Will shared a sweet kiss, Simmons was embraced by his family, Penelope and Luke exchanged laughter, and even Rossi, with a subtle smile, clinked glasses with Emily and Tara.
And as the colorful explosions painted the night sky, she felt a lingering gaze on her. Turning, she found Spencer watching her intently. His eyes were searching hers as if he were asking for permission to close the short distance separating them.
She knew what he meant. It was beyond asking permission to kiss her. It was a gentle plea to understand the unspoken boundaries that lingered between them. Engaging in intimacy behind closed doors was one thing, but to take that step in front of their peers meant exposing a vulnerability she had carefully guarded. Did she want to cross that line?
A part of her wavered, finding herself drawn to him—his warm brown eyes, his smile, everything about him seemed to call out to a part of her that she had kept guarded. The barriers she had meticulously built started to feel like fragile walls as everything around them started to fade, leaving only the soft glow of string lights and the distant echoes of laughter.
Oh, fuck it.
Feeling the pull of an undeniable force, she took a step closer with a small, bashful smile playing on her lips. It was all the answer he needed. Closing the distance between them, he framed her face with his large hands, his warm touch sending a shiver down her spine. Surrounded by the cheers of the crowd and the vibrant display of fireworks overhead, he finally leaned down, gently brushing his lips against hers.
Warmth spread through her body as he held her, his touch gentle yet possessive. He tipped her jaw, allowing his mouth to move along with hers. His tongue easily slipped into her as he continued to taste the subtle hint of liquor she had been drinking. Spencer was never one to drink, but he didn't mind tasting it on her. If anything, he couldn't get enough.
Her arms instinctively traveled underneath his suit jacket, seeking more of his warmth as she wrapped them around his waist. The fabric of his suit was smooth under her fingertips, and the heat of his body radiated through the layers of clothing.
The kiss deepened as he continued to explore her mouth, growing more intense with each passing second, and it wasn't until they heard someone through their haze calling out, "There are kids here!" that he finally pulled away.
He laughed, a soft, genuine sound and she couldn't help but join in. He then rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the small space that separated them. The lingering taste of their kiss hung in the air, and for a moment, they simply stood there. The reality of the situation slowly sank in, and they exchanged a glance filled with a mix of surprise and amusement.
"I guess we got carried away," he mumbled.
"You think?" She chuckled, her fingers playing with the lapels of his suit jacket. "We should keep it PG-13 for now."
His fingers gently traced the curve of her cheek. "Does that mean we can go R-rated later?"
She let out a laugh, throwing her head back in mirth. "You're relentless."
He smiled, savoring the moment of ease between them, and he found himself captivated by the genuine joy she radiated. His gaze traveled around the backyard and noticed everyone watching them with amused grins. He leaned down and pulled her flush against him. "Everyone's watching us."
She groaned and hid her face in the crook of his neck. "I can already imagine their teasing."
There was a moment of silence before he responded, "I think it's worth it."
"What is?" she mumbled into his neck.
He pulled away and looked down at her. In a tender gesture, he brushed a strand of hair away from her face, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "I can handle the constant teasing if it means I get to hold you like this."
The corners of her lips curled into a soft smile. "You're willing to endure their teasing just to hold me?"
His gaze met hers, unwavering. "More than willing."
Her gaze softened as she looked at him. She couldn't believe how this night had turned out, yet, here they were—wrapped up in a dance of their own. It was a position she would've never imagined herself in. And despite her best efforts to resist, the walls she had meticulously built were crumbling.
"Can I kiss you again?" He whispered. "I promise I'll make it family-friendly."
The corners of her lips curled as she laughed. The unexpected turn of events had brought them to a place she never anticipated, but surprisingly, it felt oddly right.
"I suppose one more won't hurt."
His smile widened, and with a hint of mischief in his eyes, he leaned in, capturing her lips in a tender kiss. "Happy New Year," he whispered against her lips.
She found herself smiling, realizing that perhaps, unexpected as it was, this change of year wasn't so bad. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment, and wondered where her life would take her this year. The path ahead seemed unclear, but one thing was certain—Spencer Reid had managed to find his way into her heart.
.
a/n: if you’ve followed the story since lose control, this is the ending for this short series. As much as I wanted to write smut again for the last part, the fluff was calling out to me :3
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reidmotif · 6 months
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And For My Next Trick...
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Summary: Reader is invited to a Halloween party where she doesn't know anyone. Everyone seems absolutely insistent she has to meet a mystery man who'd love her costume ALTERNATIVELY: Reader and Spencer unknowingly match costumes at a Halloween party.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Smut
Content Warning: Reader POV, light mentions of drinking, oral sex (f recieveing), handcuffs during sex, one shitty “now you see me” magic sex reference (sorry), heavy making out, unprotected sex
Word Count: 4.3k
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Why did I agree to this? Who goes to their friend’s company-mandated Halloween party? Who goes to their friend’s company-mandated Halloween party when they work for the damn FBI? 
The answer was of course, summed up with a simple “Penelope Garcia”, a force of nature when it came to swaying people into novel life experiences, as she’d done with me in this moment. 
When I offhandedly recalled that I hadn’t been to a Halloween party since college, Penelope grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me a little, eyes wide like saucers, like she couldn’t believe what I’d said. 
“What?! What have you done since then to celebrate, then?” She asks, watching me intently.
“Nothing.” I respond, plainly, watching as her face morphed into one of further disbelief than before. 
“What can I say?” I say, giving a laugh at her over-exaggerated antics at my admission, shrugging in the face of it. “I just don’t vibe with it.” 
“What’s there not to ‘vibe’ with?!” She says, still holding onto my shoulders, absolutely unable to accept that I may have grown out of Halloween as the appeal of the holiday slowly dwindled with age. 
“Everything.” I respond, still laughing. “I don’t like over-drinking, I don’t like sexy costumes, I don’t like being scared. Halloween’s less fun when you’re older.” I listed and reasoned off the top of my head, as Penelope stood there shaking her head, not accepting my answers in the slightest. 
“Absolutely not. I refuse to let the spirit of Halloween die inside of you so young.” She responds, incredibly serious and unmoving. “You can have fun without all that! Come on! I can prove it to you.” She adds, definitively. 
I raise an eyebrow, watching her with an amused expression. “Can you now? And how’s that?” 
“Spend Halloween with me!” She retorts, instantly. She smiles big, her eyes crinkling in the corners as she grew more and more excited at the idea. 
“Aren’t you spending Halloween with your work friends?” I ask, knitting my brows. “Your FBI work friends?” I say, in that tone, letting her know that there was definitely a part of me opposed to spending any day of mine with people I didn’t know whatsoever. 
“Oh come on! Don’t give me that!” Penelope says, nearly pouting in front of me. “It’ll be fun! They’re my friends and they’re sweet and I think they’d love to meet you! You’ll have fun. Trust me.” She says, looking deep into my eyes as she willed me silently to say ‘yes’ with her expression alone. I stayed silent for a moment, thinking it over before she breaks my thoughts with a, “Please?” and in a quick moment, she’s overcome all my defenses and I nod, weak to her pleas. 
“Okay! Okay! Fine!” I say, smiling a bit. “I’ll go. But I swear, if all I get out of the night is shit-faced drunk with a hangover the next morning, I’m never trusting you with my plans ever again.” I warn, raising an eyebrow and she just shakes it off, smiling wide. 
“Deal. You’ll have fun, I promise.” She reiterates, and I nod, not realizing what I’d gotten myself into at that point. 
So that night, when Penelope pulled up in front of a bar after picking me up from my apartment, I gave her a quizzical look, tilting my head in confusion. 
“I thought this was a work party. You guys have work parties at bars?” I ask, knitting my brows. 
Penelope giggled as she put the car in park, shaking her head. “Oh, my dear. You have no idea.” I stare at her, patiently waiting for her to elaborate, and she does, continuing in her excited fashion without requiring any prompting from my end. “We rarely have time for any ‘parties’ of the sort, given the whole insane schedule thing, so when we get a chance to host a shindig like this, we go all out.” She says, grinning wildly. “Especially when it's Halloween.”
I got out of the car, trying to discern what she meant, but gave up, deciding to just nod and go along with it, knowing more questions would just confuse the hell out of me anyway. 
“Did I mention  I absolutely love your costume?” Penelope compliments, I smile, waving her off. 
“I literally dug it up from my senior year of college. I’m just glad it fits.” 
The number I was wearing, in question, was a sparkly red leotard, with black stockings. A bit of height was added to my figure through the kitten heels on my feet, and adorning my neck was a traditional bowtie, alongside a little top hat with red detailing around the head. On my waist hung a stuffed bunny, adding a bit more intention to the outfit. 
A magician’s assistant, in all its glory. It was a bit showy, but I figured most people would dress up regardless, and I wasn’t about to pay money for another costume for a holiday I rarely paid any mind to in the first place. 
“Whatever it is, it’s working for you.” Penelope says with a wink, leading me into the bar. 
The bar felt absolutely alive, buzzing with energy as multiple people walked around in costume, fog machines set up on multiple fronts to add a bit of a ghastly ambience to the scene, Halloween music playing in the background as people chatted each other up. The lights were dimmed, and I followed Penelope deeper into the party. 
She turned around, handing me a cup with an unidentified liquid, and urged me to drink with her.
“It’s just punch! I swear!” She says to me, over the music, and I down the beverage quickly, glad she was obeying my request of not leaving the party absolutely wasted. It left the distinct flavor of artificially flavored cherry in my mouth, and I looked at her, wondering where she’d take us next, but before I could say anything, a blonde woman dressed as a black cat approached the two of us and Penelope immediately wrapped her arms around her, smiling. 
“(Y/N)!” Penelope says, “This is JJ, JJ, my plus-one for the night, (Y/N)!” She exclaims, excited to introduce the two of us. 
I shake JJ’s hand, smiling. “It’s nice to meet you- I love your costume, black cats are my favorite.” I say, and she grins gratefully. 
“Last minute costume. Can you tell?” JJ responds, and I shake my head. “Absolutely not.” I respond warmly, already feeling a sense of kinship with the woman, her smile and lighthearted nature easing me into the interaction. 
“Your costume.. magician?” She asks, raising an eyebrow as she gives me a look-over. 
“Magician’s assistant, actually, but yes.” I say, laughing a bit. “I suppose in a certain light I may just look like a sexy magician, in hindsight.” JJ laughs at the joke, making me laugh a bit more as well. 
“God, people here are going to think you and Spencer came here together.” JJ says, smirking, pouring herself a glass of punch. 
“Spencer?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. 
“I won’t spoil his costume, but trust me. You have to find him at some point in the night. He’d love your costume.” She says the words with a playful lilt, my curiosity piquing at the idea of this mystery man who’d apparently be enamored by my choice of clothing tonight specifically. 
“I have to find my husband.” She quickly adds, “But it was nice meeting you! Have fun!” She says, sauntering away, and leaving me and Penelope alone. 
“Okay- so I was thinking we could look at the games they have here and then-” Penelope says, but I stop her. 
“Who’s Spencer?” I ask, my interest in the subject not being fully satiated here. 
“I work with him!” Penelope responds, and I laugh at her uncharacteristic briefness.
“Penelope, you work with everyone here.” I say, and she laughs. 
“Okay, okay, but- seriously! I don’t want to spoil the surprise. It’ll be much better if the two of you run into each other.” She says, and my fascination only increases. “So.” She says, trying to segue into another topic, but I shake my head. 
“Pen- if it’s alright with you, I’m gonna try and explore on my own, yeah?” I say, trying to seem as polite about it as possible, but she understood immediately. 
“Don’t worry. I understand completely.” She says, with a wink. “You’ll know him when you see him.” She says, before walking away, and I was left alone, beginning to traverse through the party. 
I met a number of characters that night, engaging in pleasant conversation and accepting some alcohol in small quantities, keeping myself in the right headspace so that I could continue my search for the man that’d been brought up to me before. When I’d bring his name up in conversation, as to get a hint to where the man would be, I’d always get the same reaction. A flash of recognition, and a smile. A “Do you two know each other?” and when I’d shake my head, they’d follow it with a, “He’d love your costume.” 
For God’s sake! I knew he’d love my costume! Every living soul at this party had told me so! I’d love to just see the guy at this point! 
I was just about to give up my search for the man, when I finally spotted a small crowd in the corner of the party that was a bit quieter than normal. I made my way into the group of people, coming to the front to be met with the sight of a man in a costume. 
A magician’s costume. 
“For my next trick, I’ll need a volunteer.” He says, looking around the crowd, and the moment his eyes land on me, I raise my hand above my head, and he nods, gesturing me over. 
He speaks quietly, grinning a bit at me. It’s boyish and sweet as he looks me up and down, raising an eyebrow. “Magician’s assistant?” He asks, with a little bit of laughter in his voice, and I nod, and he responds by nodding back. “I love it.” 
“I know.” I say, laughing. He looks a bit confused, until I say, “Trust me. Practically everyone at this party has been telling me to find you-"
I suddenly realize there's a good chance this may not even be the aforementioned 'Spencer'. "Oh, God, I hope you are him, otherwise this’ll be really awkward.” I say quickly, realizing I hadn’t even described my plight in the first place to the stranger in front of me, before he quickly alleviated my nerves. 
“Spencer Reid.” He says, grinning. 
“Thank god. You are the right person.” I say, with relief. “(Y/N).” 
“Alright, (Y/N).” He says, smirking. “Ready to help me with this trick?” He says, putting on a bit of a performance for the people gathered around us, and I nodded. 
“Pick a card, any card.” He says, fanning a deck of cards in my direction, all face-down. “Show it to the audience, but don’t tell me the card!” He says, dramatically, turning away entirely and covering his eyes with his free hand,  and I found myself giggling at the silliness of it all. I quickly picked a card from the middle of the deck, the two of hearts, ironically, and showed it to the audience, who all nodded in recognition. 
“Have you picked your card?” Spencer asks me, still turned away and I reply. 
“Yes, I have.” 
“And have you shown the audience?” Spencer continues, in the same, climactic tone from before. 
“I have.” I say, with a smile. 
“Alright. Put her back into the deck, and tell me when you have.” He replies, still totally turned away, his eyes shut. 
I place the card back in the deck, nestling it between the cards and he grins as he feels the disturbance to the deck. “The card is in the deck.” I confirm, and he turns back, beginning to shuffle the cards with fast, adept fingers. I watch his hands carefully, before he draws my attention  back to his face by speaking to me. 
“So, (Y/N), what brings you to this party in the first place? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around the building.” He asks, casually, his hands still moving quickly. 
“Oh- what?” I found it impossible to focus on both his hands, and the conversation, so I turned my attention towards the latter. “Penelope.” I respond, after processing the question. “She’s my friend, she told me to come. I don’t know anyone here besides her.” I add, answering his question. 
“Ah.” He responds, cooly, keeping direct eye contact on me the entire time, and I was unable to tear myself away from his gaze. “Do you make it a habit to come to parties where everyone’s a stranger to you?” 
I laugh a bit. “Absolutely not. I mean, everyone’s been nice so far, I’d say, so it’s not half-bad.” I continue, relaxing into the banter with him. His aura was magnetizing. Maybe it was the magician persona he was putting on, maybe it was the fact that he was dead handsome, but I found him increasingly attractive with every passing second. 
He grinned, and I noticed that as our conversation dwindled, his hands began to slow. “Alright. Now, if my magician senses prove me right, is..” He takes a long second, making a show out of pulling a card out of the deck, “this your card!” He finishes, showing a.. six of spades. 
I laugh a bit nervously, “Uh, no?” I felt a blush rising to my face as he seemed to grumble, looking more thoroughly through the deck. 
“This?” He asks, holding up a three of diamonds.  
“Nope.” 
He holds up a queen. “This one?” 
“Still no.” 
“God, I swear..” He finally shows me the entire deck, watching me intently. “Do you see your card anywhere here?” He asks. 
I scan the deck, expecting to see the two of hearts but didn’t, and I furrowed my brows. 
“Is it not there?” Spencer asks, a specific lilt in his voice, as he grins playfully at me, and I look at him, still confused. 
“No, but I swear- I did put it back.” I say, looking through the cards in front of me one last time. 
“That’s strange.” Spencer responds, beginning to think. “Do you mind if I just..” He suddenly took a step closer, invading my personal space in such a swift manner, I barely had time to process what was going on.
I could feel his breath hitting me from above, as I turned my gaze up at the man in front of me. I could see him clearer, this way. The way his brown eyes watched me as well, the pink of his lips, the way his soft hair fell across his forehead. He reached forward, causing my breath to hitch before he slowly found my hat, lifting it from my head. 
“(Y/N), do you mind checking your hat for a moment?” He says, giving me the article of clothing. 
“Oh, I-” I stutter a bit, before taking the hat from his hands slowly and looking inside, seeing- 
No fucking way. 
I pulled out the two of hearts, which had somehow found its way into my hat. 
“How- You-” I say, before he stops me.
“Show the card to the audience.” He says, grinning, and I do. 
“That’s your card, isn’t it?” He muses, and I nod, absolutely dumbstruck. 
He gives a little smirk. “Take a bow. For being such a good assistant, you know.” He says, and I bow my head a little, still trying to wrap my head around how he managed to do the trick in the first place. 
The little group around us gave small claps and dispersed once the trick was over, leaving me and Spencer alone. 
“So..” I start, but he laughs and interrupts.
“Before you ask me, no. I will not tell you how I did that.” He says, almost reading my mind. 
“Come on!” I say, grinning. “You have to. That’s- that’s impossible.” I stammer. 
“I just did it, didn’t I?” He says, with a bit of cockiness in his voice, which made him even more attractive than before. 
“Okay but- No way!” I say, trying to think. “You must’ve planted it there. Or-” 
“I planted the card in a hat that had been on your head the whole time?” He responds, raising an eyebrow playfully. 
“But-” 
“No ‘buts’.” He says, smiling. “It’s just magic. And a magician never reveals his-” 
“I swear, if you finish that cliched sentence..” I warn. 
He raises his hands up in surrender, that boyish grin still gracing his face. “Okay! Okay! It’s true though.” He adds, and I find myself rolling my eyes.
He notices my displeasure, and laughs a bit. “Okay, tell you what. What if I taught you how to do the trick? That way I’m technically not flat-out telling you how to do the trick.” He says, and I nod, excited. 
“Wait- yeah. I would do that, in a heartbeat.” I respond, and he looks animated at the prospect. 
“It’s a bit loud here.” He says, raising his voice a little over the music in the bar. “I know we just met but- uh. Would you wanna come to my apartment?” He asks, a bit hesitant. “In the name of magic.” 
I watched his expression carefully, and saw the implicit desire painted in his eyes.
Wow. This costume must’ve worked a lot better than I expected. 
“I wouldn’t mind that.” I respond, sweetly. “Lead the way, magic man.” I say, a bit teasingly. There was something exhilarating about knowing that there was a good possibility he wanted me, the same way I found myself wanting him. 
He smiles, offering his arm to me as we walk out of the bar together. He leads me to his car, opening the door of the passenger seat to me like a true gentleman, and I smile, getting in. He starts the vehicle, beginning to drive away from the bar. 
“Have you always done magic?” I ask, attempting to start a conversation with the man next to me, who was still a near stranger at this point. 
He laughs a bit. “Yeah, actually. Before I ever started working for the FBI, I learned as a kid.” 
“What do you like about magic?” I ask, a little lamely, still trying to continue the flow of discussion between us, making an effort to know him better. 
He shrugs, keeping his eyes on the road. “Well, I don’t know. I didn’t have too many friends growing up, so when I did.. I liked to entertain them.” He lets out a dry chuckle, a bit self conscious. I listened intently, finding myself more intrigued by him as he opened himself up to me. “It sounds silly, but I’ve always just enjoyed the feeling of making someone feel.. wonder.. amazement..?” He adds, hesitantly. “It’s just nice.” He finishes.
“That was probably way too personal for a question about magic, huh?” He says, after a moment. 
I shake my head. “No! No. That’s a great reason. Probably better than anything I could ever come up with for any of my own hobbies.” I say, trying to make him feel at ease, the way he had for me before. 
He smiles gratefully. “Thanks.” 
“So about that trick..” I start, grinning. 
“I’m not telling you how I did it!” He says, laughing. “You gotta work for it.” 
“Oh, come on.” I exclaim, before pausing.
“Okay, tell me this. How many ways can you do that trick? Is it only with specific cards?” 
“Nope.” He responds. “I can do that trick 52 ways. It’s all in the hands” He says, a little bit of pride in his voice. 
“52 ways, huh?” I say, grinning. “My god, Spencer Reid. You must be really good with your hands then.” I say, trying to flirt just a bit.
“Oh, you have no idea.” He responds, and for a second, I hear a hint of lust in his voice, and I realize I wasn't insane for thinking he wanted me back. I could feel his tone causing my cheeks to heat up, and my panties getting wetter in an instant.
“Oh?” I respond, my voice suddenly hoarse. 
“Yeah.” He responds, voice a bit deeper than before. 
“I’m sure you could show me once you get to your apartment.” I say boldly, testing the waters and I see him lick his lips, nodding. 
“I’d like that.” He responds, gripping the steering wheel a bit tighter, driving a bit faster than before. 
As soon as we made it past his front door, Spencer was pushing me against the wall, planting his lips on mine in a frenzy, as my hands went to take off his coat, both of our intentions clear at this moment. 
His hands trailed down to my waist, pulling me closer against him to the point where I could feel his erection pressing against my thigh. The sensation caused me to moan, and he took the opportunity to sneak his tongue into my mouth, exploring as we continued to seek pleasure from the other, not paying mind to the consequences of our spontaneity. 
His hands began to move to the zipper of my leotard, slowly pulling it down as my hands went to his belt, undoing it as quickly as I could. I felt something in the pockets of his slacks, and pulled it out to reveal a pair of handcuffs. 
“Not my government issued ones. They're apart of the costume gear” He says, immediately, beginning to kiss at my neck. “We could use them, if you want.” He murmurs, his hot breath right at the hollow of my collarbone. 
I breathed in sharply, nodding. “Oh, god. Yes.” I could feel him pulling me by my hips, his lips never leaving the expanse of my skin as he pushed me onto his bed, caging me in between his arms as he continued with his ministrations. 
I could hear the soft moans of pleasure drawing out from my lips, my eyes fluttering shut. For an instant, I couldn’t feel his presence on me, until my hands were being raised above my head, and the small “snap” of handcuffs could be heard against me. I watched him, his gaze determined and lustful, checking the handcuffs to make sure they weren’t too tight, but that I couldn’t escape. 
“You’re so beautiful.” He murmurs, beginning to kiss my fingertips, and making his way down my arm. He finally manages to pull off my leotard, and in a moment of what I could only describe as carnal desire, he rips open my stockings, discarding them on the floor as he made his way to the growing wet spot on my panties. 
“I’ll buy you new ones.” He growls, his breath hitting my wet heat, and I moaned at the sensation alone. He slid my panties down, leaving me entirely bare while he stayed mostly clothed, only adding to the appeal of our encounter. 
He settled in between my legs, and I watched him, my breath coming out in short, small gasps. 
“I need to taste you.” He murmurs, and I nod.
That’s all it takes, and he’s nearly devouring at my cunt. I can feel his tongue everywhere, languidly working at my sex before circling around my clit. I throw my head back, and feel my hands itching to grab at his hair, to grind against his mouth. It’s like he could feel my desperation, smirking against me. 
“Patience.” He murmurs, and I grumble a bit, but the annoyance quickly dissipates as he moves to suck around my clit, causing an entirely new slew of sensations to rack my body. I can feel myself writhing, and he hooks his hands under my thighs to keep me in place. Before I can even tell him, I’m coming against his face, my body convulsing in his touch as he continued to eat me out like he couldn’t get enough. 
He only stopped when I weakly moaned his name, looking up at me through my thighs, my wetness coating his chin. “Please- I need you.” I say, trying to now fulfill the growing ache that came from being so painstakingly empty. He nodded, understanding me immediately and moving to undo the handcuffs. Immediately, my hands wrap around his neck as I feel him free his cock from the confines of his briefs, and I briefly glance down, taking note of his size, and knowing how well I’d be fucked in a few brief moments. 
He guided his member to my aching cunt, and pushed into me, inch by inch. I could feel my breath snatched away in an instant, as my jaw dropped in a quiet moan. He seemed to enjoy the sensation of entering me as well, his eyes closing in concentration. 
“So warm.. so perfect.” He murmurs, moving down to kiss my jaw. “Can I move? Can I please move?” He begs, the neediness in his voice apparent. 
I nod, feverishly. “Yes. Please.” 
He immediately starts moving in a fast pace, using a strength I didn't know he had in him. I could feel myself shifting up the bed with every thrust he pummeled into me, and every movement of his hips only elicited longer, louder moans. It seemed to spur him on, as he pushed my legs to my chest to gain an even deeper angle, which had me screaming in pleasure at that point. 
“I’m not gonna last..” He moans out, and I nod, indicating we were in the same boat. His hand slipped in between our bodies, finding my clit in an attempt to have me finish before him. 
“Please, pretty girl.” He moans, his movements never letting up. “Come for me.” 
I do, feeling myself tighten around his cock, as my walls spasmed all around. It seemed to push him towards his release as well, as I felt his warmth seep into my deepest point. He pulled out of me, exhausted, laying beside me on the bed. 
His hands reached over for me, and I made my way into his arms, laying my head on his chest, feeling our rapid heartbeats calm down together after our act of passion. His chest rises up and down, as does mine, and we bask in the afterglow of what just took place. 
“We never did get to that magic trick.” I say, finally speaking, my words coming out a little breathlessly. 
I can feel his laughter as he places a tender kiss to the top of my head, as if we’d done this a thousand times before. “After that, I’ll teach you whatever you want. Sure you could teach me a thing or two too, hmm?"  
“Deal.” I say, closing my eyes and relaxing in the warmth of a man that was no longer as stranger than before. 
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wow!! sorry for disappearing on you guys like that!! idk how long it's been since my last post, all i know it's been a while and i'm very deeply sorry!! i hope this makes up for it. i actually wrote this as a submission to @imagining-in-the-margins 's meet cute challenge, so! fun fun fun. please reblog, like, comment, or whatever!! i genuinely love seeing what everyone has to think . just as a warning, my posting may get sporadic for the next month or so, but i promise by december we're gonna be on that weekly fic grind. again, so sorry for the sudden disappearance!!! i appreciate everyone very much for their patience!!!!
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