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pretty-boys-book-club · 1 year

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Mind Over Matter (Chapter 5) | Bylines to my heart

Summary: You are a young journalist navigating the turbulent job of reporting for a local newspaper in D.C. What happens when you constantly bump into a cute boy genius? Can FBI agents befriend journalists? Can they fall in love with one?

Word Count:

Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

“Once you had put the pieces back together, even though you may look intact, you were never quite the same as you'd been before the fall." ― Jodi Picoult

Over the course of the next few days, Spencer finds himself all over the country. One week he's in Georgia, then there's a case in New Mexico, only for them to be called to consult over a case in Michigan the very next moment. When he first started at the FBI, he used to hear multiple people mention the dangers of travel burnout. As someone who had barely left the West Coast, that idea seemed ridiculous to him. Working remotely from different stations, visiting several cities in one week, and staring longingly out an airplane window seemed like a glamorous lifestyle. If burnout was the price to pay, he could deal with it.

But now?

After a decade in the BAU, he completely understand why all senior agents complain about their job not being a 9-to-5. He's constantly rushing, because the team is always inevitably called to consult in a case at the very last notice, so he never ends up unpacking, never turns off his brain, never rests, never stops. And when he's off work, it’s hard not to bring his work home with him. He doesn't really feel like he even has a personal life anymore. He's missed so many birthdays, anniversaries and holidays.

Keep reading or read it on AO3

Truth be told, Spencer simply doesn't know how to relate with most people. It's not that he dislikes them, but more so they are just too different from him. They don't have the same morals as he does, nor do they understand the way he thinks. On top of that, it's not like he had that many opportunities to learn how to navigate relationships growing up. His mother's illness made him pretty much a recluse, and only when he got older did he realize that a lot of people thought he was odd.

Being a child prodigy meant that, during all of his childhood, he was pushed beyond his limits time and time again, challenged to an unhealthy level of learning that forced him to give up the typical things people do during childhood and their teenage years. Even now, with all the knowledge he possesses, he still lacks the ability to navigate social cues.

He is aware of that, of course, but his awareness does not make things any easier. In his haphazard pursuit for his career, he has always pulled away before getting too close to anyone.

Then, he met Maeve and he felt understood for the first time. He felt seen. And, to be honest, he enjoyed the attention. But she died in his arms before he could even get to know her deeply. And when she passed away, Spencer lost the very little trust he had in relationships.

When your heart has been through so much loss it doesn’t just go back to loving. It goes into a very different place. It goes to fear, anxiety and trauma. The first moment he feels a small glimmer of love, he immediately feels so much fear that it's almost like a panic attack.

He knows he will never fully recover from Maeve's death, but he wants to move on. The problem is that he's terrified of being hurt. After everything he has witnessed over the years—the pain of others, the damage they can cause, the horror that comes out of them— he knows that there’s a certain level of risk involved in loving someone else.

And yet, Spencer needs someone by his side. Someone who understands him and won't leave him. Someone he can lean on. He knows it'll take time, patience and understanding. But he wants to try that with you.

His biggest challenge right now is that he fears the worst and hopes for the best. So far, he hasn't had the best luck with romantic relationships, but maybe, this time, luck will be on his side.

He just has to find the courage to send you a text. His fingers tremble as he looks up your phone number. He can feel his palms sweating, so he takes a deep breath, then another, trying to calm his racing thoughts and pounding heart. He types out the message, pressing send before he can overthink it.

The second he does, fear and relief wash over him. He realizes that he has been holding his breath while typing the words. Even though he's terrified, he smiles and lets himself breathe.

06:37 PM Spencer 📚☕️: Hi. I was just thinking about your offer for a second date, but I'm a bit swamped at work at the moment. How are you? Miss me?

It takes Spencer several seconds to realize what he's done.

This was supposed to be a joke. A sarcastic, lighthearted line that would hopefully put both of you at ease. Instead, it sounds as if he's clingy and desperate. He stares at the screen, wondering how many times he can hit delete before it stops working.

But somehow, he doesn't want to erase it. He wants to see your reply. He doesn't know why, but he really does.

—

You're almost asleep when your phone lights up with a notification. You look at the number and see that it's from a couple of emails waiting for you from your boss and a text from Spencer. You've been so buried in work lately that you're even struggling to stay awake, you don't have the right mind space to reply at the moment. You make a mental note to answer him later when you're less stressed out before finally giving up and getting some sleep.

Once again, you wake up to an alarm going off. You turn to your side and turn it off, deciding that a few more minutes of sleep can't hurt. You get back under the covers and close your eyes again. It's only moments later that you realize you're gonna be late if you wait any longer. You roll over and grab your phone to check the time, seeing that you've got another email from your boss. You groan at the thought of going into work today.

"You'll do fine," you mutter as you get out of bed. You quickly get dressed and try to calculate how much it'll take you to get to work on time. Finally, you decide that you'll just have to cut out some corners this morning. You head to the metro station before you even get a chance to eat something. Once you get there, the wagon is so full that you end up standing all the way down to your stop. By the time you get outside of the station, you're already running behind schedule.

Finally, you get to your desk just in time to see an email come through from your boss. "Just a reminder: we need the next review done by noon," he says. You sigh. You've been so buried in work, which you probably should've been doing anyway considering how much of it you suddenly have. Seems like everyone in the newsroom has started to get stressed about imminent deadlines.

You've been struggling with writing a review about the Midsummer Night's Dream production at the National Theater. You had such a good time with Spencer. It was an interesting experience to see Shakespeare performed live, especially because the stagecraft was great. But, of course, it's something that has been performed a million times before. So it's hard to write about what you've experienced without trying to sound like a complete douche.

It's not that you think it's bad or anything. It's just that there are lots of people who've seen this play a thousand times. The job writing reviews is a bit more tedious than you expected. You have to go over the details of plays, movies or books you've seen and read over and over again. Sometimes, you wonder why they hire someone to do these sorts of things.

The rest of the day goes by slowly until lunch break comes around. You're nowhere near finished with the review. It's the second time this week you've let a deadline pass by unnoticed. John calls you into his office. You're getting used to dealing with him. At first, you thought he was too harsh with your articles, but his constant scolding actually motivates you to be better at what you do.

"I know I haven't exactly been easy on you," he starts. "But there's a reason why I'm doing it." He pauses for a moment as if thinking about what to say next. "You remind me a lot of my younger self. You should keep that in mind. I did some stupid stuff when I was your age and ended up ruining my career because of it. Don't let that happen to you."

You're a little surprised by that, but you also feel kind of touched by it. Maybe you aren't so bad after all. The silence stretches for a minute or so. You sit down in front of his desk and take a deep breath before asking: "But...?"

He leans back in his chair and folds his hands in front of him. "Your articles have been very good," he begins. "But I want them to be even better. And I'm not saying that to stroke your ego. You've missed two deadlines. That's twice now. If you can't meet those deadlines, then I can't afford to keep you anymore."

"I'm sorry," you apologize. "I really am. I didn't think I'd miss the deadlines."

"No one does. It's just something you have to learn to deal with," he says. "Now, I'm not telling you this to scare you. I'm telling you this because I care about you. I don't want to see you fail, okay?"

"Thank you, sir."

He smiles. "From now on, I want you to double check every single detail. No more missed deadlines. And, just in case, I'm assigning one of the editors to work closely with you. His name is Thomas and he's going to help you with everything from now on." He calls for Thomas to come into the room.

He looks a bit older than you. You're guessing he's in his early thirties, maybe a little older. Your boss, John, continues. "Thomas is one of our best. You two are going to go through each of your drafts until you get the hangs of it. Do you think you can handle that?"

You nod. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Don't take this the wrong way. You're young, you're bound to make mistakes sometimes, but try harder from now on, okay?" John stands up, walks around the desk and puts his hand on your shoulder. "You're a good reporter, kiddo. I really liked your coverage of the Tenleytown case."

You smile. "Thanks, sir."

"Don't thank me yet. We'll see how you do tomorrow. Now, if you two don't mind, I have a phone call I need to attend to. Don't fuck up, okay?"

And with that, he goes back to the desk and signals for you two to leave his office. Thomas accompanies you outside. He's carrying a stack of files.

"So, I take it you're new to the Capital." He mentions, hoping to start a conversation.

"Yes, I used to live in New York before. Moved there during college. After that, I got a job there and decided to stay. You know how it goes."

"Sounds fancy. NYU?"

"No, Columbia."

"Oh, well. I went to..."

You interrupt him. "Let me guess...Princeton?"

"What gave it away?"

"The fact that you didn't answer my question."

"Touché." He laughs. "Still, I can't believe you came all the way here just to join the WTOP team. Have you seen the traffic?" You two keep talking until you reach your desk. He tells you he holds a Masters in English, something that makes you think he’d get along well with Spencer if they were to meet. You also learn that he likes to go out drinking on the weekends, but only if he can find a nice place that doesn't have too many hipsters.

There's a bizarre magic to finding the right editor who understands the stories you're passionate about, deals with all the internal newsroom drama necessary to get your story what it needs, and makes your work better. He is responsible for checking facts, spelling, grammar, and punctuation. He’s the one that ensures that all your articles correspond with in-house style guides and feel polished and refined when done.

—

Your work day stretches until late once again. You're tired and worn out after having stayed late at work the last few days, but you have a deadline to meet and you know it's better to finishing things off before you have a chance to relax. Thomas approaches you with a cup of coffee in hand.

"How're you doing?" He asks.

"Busy as usual." You sip on your coffee.

"Don't tell me about it. No one tells you about the long hours we put in here. I mean, I knew there was a lot of work involved, but I hadn't realized just how much."

You nod in agreement, your computer shows it's almost 9 PM. "Shit, are you by any chance going home?"

"Sure," Thomas says. "I don't need to get back until the morning anyway. Where do you live?"

"A couple of blocks from Woodley Park. I guess it's technically Adams Morgan but everyone calls it 'the other' one."

"Oh, I live close to Kalorama Park. That's where I'm headed now. Think we could catch the train together?"

"That would be great." You smile. You soon find out Thomas loves to talk. He's a guy who knows his way around town, so you're always learning new things about DC while he tells you about the places you haven't yet seen. As you two walk to your apartment, which is the same general direction as Thomas', he's telling you about some article he was reading on the Atlantic and you tune out for a while.

"Earth to Y/N!" He says.

"Sorry," you mumble, looking at him with a guilty expression.

"I saw you staring off into space just now. I was just asking you what you're doing this weekend. You know, since we're not going to work."

"I don't have plans."

"Well, why don't you come to my house? Kyle would love to have someone over. He makes the best lasagna ever, plus I'd love to have an extra set of hands in the kitchen. We'll make some cocktails and watch some TV." He offers.

You suddenly remember Spencer's text. "Shit."

Thomas looks confused at your reaction. "What's wrong?"

"There's this guy I'm seeing...I mean, I think I am. We went to the theater a couple days ago, I just remembered I haven't answered his texts. I really should call him."

"Whoa, slow down. Slow down, Y/N. Tell me everything."

You tell him about your date with Spencer, including how you felt afterwards. "Wow." He seems in shock. "He's really an agent? Not just some big city police officer?"

"Yes, he's a special agent. Works for the Behavioral Analysis Unit."

His eyes widen slightly. Then he gives you this warm smile. "Wow, that really is something else. Must be some sort of genius."

"Yeah, he is."

"Out of curiosity, can I see what he sent you?"

"Sure." You pull up the message. "This is it."

"It sounds like he meant every word." You look up at Thomas. His eyes are filled with warmth and affection. "He sounds sweet. So... Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Miss him."

"Um..." You hesitate. "We've only been on one date. Maybe he doesn't want anything serious right now.”

"You're not answering my question", he teases.

You feel your face flush red. You bite your lip as you try to figure out how to answer. "I... I actually do." You admit. "I miss him."

"So I take it you'll go out with him again? To get a good idea of whether or not he wants more than just a casual relationship?"

"I hope so."

"Then, please, let him know. Make sure he knows you're interested." Thomas nods. You debate whether you should follow his advice and text Spencer. Or maybe you shouldn't even bother trying at all. He's probably busy.

—

Spencer spends his whole day wondering when you'll reply. He begins to lose hope. He's usually really good at avoiding looking at his phone during work, but he lacks the willpower to do so, for the first time in a long while. He's been more withdrawn than usual. He falls asleep in the jet questioning why he's so anxious about your reply, his mind going down a dark and twisting path, one he’s not so sure if he’ll find a way out.

When the team arrives at Quantico, Spencer is the last one to board off the plane. He takes a deep breath as he takes the elevator and checks his phone. When he looks down at the his phone, he realizes you've sent him a message:

08:42 PM Y/N: Hey Spence! Sorry I haven't reached out yet. I've been so busy with work lately. Funny thing you've asked, I do miss you. I'd love to see you soon. Let me know if you're free tonight. Hope all is well with you. XX

His heart leaps into his throat. Spencer smiles from ear to ear. His eyes keep darting back to your words on the screen. He feels his heart racing as he reads them over again and again. He rests his body against the wall, folding his arms across his chest. He's so distracted by his own thoughts he doesn't even realize Derek has made an appearance behind him until Derek speaks. "What are you doing?"

Derek asks, sounding curious rather than annoyed or worried. Spencer shakes his head slightly, trying to clear it. The words just won't come. "When you’re gonna tell me about whatever it is that you’re hiding?”

Spencer snaps out of his daze, pressing his lips into a tight line as he says, "I'm not hiding anything.” It’s a fib, but one Spencer utters almost without thinking, adopting a nonchalance he’s perfected over years of lying to his coworkers about his whereabouts, his weekend plans, and most importantly, his love life.

"That's the biggest load of crap I've ever heard," Derek replies, shaking his head. "You've been checking your phone at least every fifteen minutes for the whole day and that's coming from the guy who is a self-proclaimed technophobe. Come on, that might work with Garcia or JJ, but you know I'm pretty perceptive. Tell me what's going on inside that big brain of yours.”

Spencer sighs heavily, "You don't understand."

"No, I guess I don't," Derek says, placing his hands on his hips. "If you're not hiding something then why are you acting like a nervous little puppy?"

"I'm just thinking about a text I got. That's all."

"Is it from a special friend by any chance? Is that why you're acting so weird?"

Spencer feels his cheeks flush. He takes a moment to collect his thoughts. "It's from a friend of mine."

"Okay, so why can't you tell me who she is?"

“I just like my privacy, okay? Can’t a guy have that?”

“Of course you are allowed to keep things to yourself, but you're the worst at keeping secrets. Besides, a little bird told me you went on a date with… What’s her name again?”

“Y/N is her name, we…" Spencer can't control the smile that takes over his face. When he realizes this, he quickly pulls himself together, feigning an expression of surprise, his voice getting higher: "Wait, what? Who told you that?”

Spencer knows all his colleagues make their own assumptions at his reluctance to share about his (very nonexistent) romantic life. He also knows that they speculate about his well-being after what happened to Maeve. Still, can’t he have something for himself, once in his life? Something that he doesn’t have to share with anyone.

“I ain’t no snitch, Reid. But I’m happy for you, my man. You deserve some happiness after all you've been through. So how about you be a good boy and tell me everything about her, huh?”

“We've been on just one date. And it wasn't even an official one.”

"And do you plan on asking her out for another one? You know, officially?"

"I don't know. We haven’t talked about that yet."

“So what are you waiting for, pretty boy? Ask her out already!"

"It's not that simple. She's super busy and I need to figure out how to make time for us. I'd love to take her out to dinner again, but—"

“Oh, please! Sounds like an excuse. I know it's hard but don't overthink it. Just ask her out. That's all you have to do, the worst she can say is no."

"What if she says yes?"

"Then it'll be perfect."

Spencer shakes his head, unable to believe that Derek would be so naïve about these things. It's not that easy to just ask someone out. "I don't want history to repeat itself, that's all." Spencer admits. "After Maeve, I'm terrified of being hurt again. I'm afraid of getting involved with someone. I'm afraid they'll be hurt again."

"I know it's hard, but you're not the same anymore. Don't let that fear stop you from living your life, Reid. Life is short. Hell, it's shorter than we think."

"Thanks, Derek. I needed to hear that today."

"Anytime. Now, do you mind using that big brain of yours to fill out some paperwork? We have a lot of folders to get through."

Spencer nods. “Sure.”

—

It takes him around an hour to finish things up and get home. He takes a quick shower before climbing into bed. He starts to work on a reply to your text as soon as his head hits the pillow.

10:49 PM Spencer 📚☕️: Sorry, I didn't mean to ignore you! I just couldn't seem to find the right words. I hope you don't hate me for that. If you want, we could have dinner this Thursday?

Spencer sends the message. He looks at his phone and waits for a reply. Minutes pass, he checks the screen to see if you've sent anything else. Nothing. Spencer sighs in disappointment and sets the phone aside. He closes his eyes, trying to fall asleep. But sleep doesn't come easily to him. He feels defeated. Maybe you were never really interested. Or maybe you found someone new? He's so confused.

He rolls onto his side, his head resting on the pillow. He tries to sleep. His mind wanders to the day he met you. How crazy to think it was pure coincidence. He's reliving all your conversations in his head when his phone lights up. It's a text from you.

10:52 PM Y/N: That sounds good. I'll see you then :) Let me know the time and place.

Spencer opens his eyes as he reads the last part of your text. 'See you then.' He finds himself smiling as he falls asleep.

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cat-loves-music · 2 years

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Hate

Prompt: “I hate the way you make me love you.”

Setting: BAU headquarters Season 12 no episode in particular

Request: No

Warning(s): A bit of angst, mention of what happened to Maeve, a bit of cursing.

Words: 1,305

~•~•~•~•~♡~•~•~•~•~

It has now been two years since I joined the BAU and everyone has treated me like family…except Spencer. I don’t know why he hates me, I don't think I've done anything to deserve it…have I?

My heels click against the tile floor as I exit the elevator, but are soon muffled as I step onto the carpet. Everyone is at their respective desks and I set my stuff down on mine across from Reid. He’s reading a book, a Spencer Reid classic.

JJ is here…so is Tara and Luke. I wonder why he’s not chatting with them.

I sit down at my desk and wait for Hotch or Garciai to say something about a case. I drum my fingers against the desk, trying to keep myself occupied when Garcia walks in the bullpen, a smile on her face.

“Hola crime fighters, I haven’t received word of a case so it looks like the serial killers took a day off,” she chirps happily.

I smile, happy that we have a break from sickos today. My smile fades as I notice a stack of paperwork on my desk. I groan lightly, knowing that today's going to be boring.

“Everyone has a stack of paperwork on their desk so better get to it,” Hotch says, coming out of his office and heading into Rossi’s.

Everyone groans, except Reid. I look over at his desk and papers are nowhere to be found.

Of course he’s already done with it.

I grab a portion of my pile and start working.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s a few hours later and I lean back in my seat, my hand in agony from writing so much. I like writing…to an extent. Would I prefer catching serial killers than filling out paperwork all day? Absolutely, but paperwork is necessary unfortunately.

I lean my head back so I’m looking at the ceiling and I sigh, stretching my hand to make the pain go away.

Our job is very intense, I guess you would say. We catch serial killers and a lot of other wackjobs who can make even the most sane person go insane, which is why I introduced “Sanity Checks”. It’s a way we can communicate with each other if we need to take a breather or to talk about something that’s bothering us.

“Sanity check!” I call out.

“All good!” I hear JJ and Luke respond.

“Hanging in there!” Tara calls back.

At this point, I don’t expect Spencer to respond, he never does. On occasion I do look over at him to check on him, but he gives me nothing. Even the most skilled profiler can’t read him when he’s next to me. I’m sure you can read something about him based on his silence but I have no clue why he is the way he is around me.

My alarm goes off, signaling that it’s noon aka lunch time. I set my pencil down and stand up, my stomach growling at the thought of food since I haven’t eaten yet today. Grabbing my lunch bag, I head into Garcia’s tech room. She has a takeout container of chinese food in her hands as she watches something on one of her many computers.

“Hey Penny,” I greet.

She turns around in her chair and smiles at me, “Hey Y/n! How is your paperwork going?”

I groan as I pull up a chair next to her, “I’m barely halfway done. It’s just so much.”

“I would suggest for you to ask for Boy Wonder’s help, but I doubt he would,” she replies.

“He’s been reading books for the past four hours and I’ve been struggling to finish my paperwork. At this rate I’ll have to stay late so I can finish it,” I complain, “I don’t get it, why is he the way he is with me?”

Penelope shrugs, “I have no clue babes, I wish I could help you more.”

I sigh, “It’s okay, I guess I’ll never know.”

I grab the container of food from the bag and open the lid to start eating. I swallow the bite and continue talking.

“I’m guessing you are enjoying your day?” I assume.

She beams, “I am actually, just enjoying my alone time in my cave. It’s nice.”

“I wish I had your skills. Hell I wish I had Reid’s skills too but I don’t,” I frown.

“Well, you are perfectly talented in everything you do. I wish I had your profiling skills, plus you’re a badass in the field. Everyone says so,” Penelope reassures.

I smile slightly, “Thanks Pen.”

I finish my food and continue talking with her until my break is up and I stand up.

“Well, have fun. I’ll see you later?” I say, bidding my goodbye.

“Of course, girl! Good luck,” she replies.

I smile and wave goodbye and head out. Not looking, I accidentally bump into Spencer.

“Sorry, Reid. I didn’t mean to bump into you,” I apologized.

He nods in acknowledgement before continuing to walk. Anger and confusion boils in my blood, and before I knew it I grabbed his wrist and dragged him into Morgan’s old office.

“What are you doing?” he asked as I closed the door behind me and blocked it so he couldn’t leave.

“No, who do you think you are, Spencer? Why is it me that you barely even speak to unless it’s work related? What did I ever do to you?” I interrogate.

The expression on his face quickly turns to anger, “You wouldn’t understand.”

“No, what I don’t understand is why you’re treating me like absolute shit when you’ve welcomed Tara and Luke with no problem whatsoever. Do you understand how that makes me feel?” I yell.

“That’s the thing, Y/n, you’ve done nothing wrong. In fact, you couldn’t do anything wrong even if you tried. The fact that you are absolutely perfect makes me question everything that I’ve ever known,” he confessed.

“Spencer—” I started, “I still didn’t deserve that treatment from you! You hurt me Spencer.”

“I know and I wish I could take it all back but I can’t,” Spencer replies. “There is no possible way that there is a good excuse to explain my behavior but I just want to at least try to.”

I furrow my eyebrows in simmering anger, waiting for him to hear his explanation, “Well?”

He sighs, “Four years ago the woman I thought was it for me, was murdered right in front of me and I couldn’t do anything about it. From then on I promised myself that I wouldn’t fall for anyone else in order to not get hurt. Then you came along and I made the choice to distance myself from you, but I didn’t take into account the pain it would cause me because I hate the way you make me love you. The way you actively make sure that everyone is okay after a tough case, the way you smile, everything about you is so intoxicating and I can't get enough of you.”

I couldn’t speak, there were no words to even come close to responding to all that. I guess he took my silence as a cue to continue because that’s what he did.

“There are no words to tell you how sorry I am and I know that it's a long shot for you to ever forgive me, but I truly am sorry and if there's anything that I can do to make it up to you then I will do whatever it takes for that to happen,” he finished.

I smile, “I have an idea of what you can do.”

He looks at me confused, “What would that be?”

“Take me out on a date and I'll consider forgiving you,” I smirk.

A smile spreads across his face as he says, “I'd be happy to.”

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds imagines #spencer reid imagines

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friendly-books · 6 months

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Dresden files Summer Knight live blog

Summer Knight

Billy!

Let your friends help you Harry

“Ghoul,” I told him. “Probably one of the LaChaise clan. They’re working with the Red Court, and they don’t much like me” pg. 19 Is this where Harry’s hate of ghouls come from?

Aw Harry :( you need to live life and not become a hermit shut in

I love it when Harry is being a detective and putting clues together

Mab’s introduction was interesting

“You will accept this case, wizard. It is what you are. It is your nature.” pg. 55 Everyone seems to knows about Harry’s chronic hero syndrome

Hoss?

SIR?!? Harry calls someone sir?

“You burned down my barn, Hoss” pg. 60 Harry’s burning buildings streak goes back years I see

I like Ebenezar

“You know how I get when I’m talking about Council politics” pg. 67 I see where Harry got some of his dislike of the White Council came from other than the willingness to kill kids and Harry himself

“How’s your Latin coming, Hoss? You need me to translate?” pg. 76 How bad is Harry’s Latin?

Morgan back on his knight Templar attitude and get it through your skull that Harry isn’t evil incarnate

“I’m not the suicidal type” pg. 78 Are you sure you’re not Harry? Or at least have no self preservation

Oh no Harry’s bad at Latin. Who let him take a correspondent course?

Could the White Council have a traitor in their mix? With them attacking Archangel and getting behind the defenses. How many know about the defenses?

“The situation was clearly a manipulation, a scheme to force Dresden to those actions in hopes of killing him” pg. 101 that’s what I thought

“Then he should have been smarter” pg. 101 That’s a bit of a victim blaming LaFortier. Not a fan of LaFortier.

Harry and Elaine were siblings and romantic together?!? Weird, a little soap opera

Harry mentions that Justin sent a demon after him. I assume that he means He Who Walks Behind but if He Who Walks Behind is a demon he doesn't have the same naming convention as Chaunzaggorath.

Elaine’s alive! Why show up after all this time? Harry’s I’m the phone book why now stop by for a visit?

“God Harry, You just can’t see it, can you? The Council doesn’t care about you. They don’t want to protect you. They will only put up as long as you toe the line and don’t become an inconvenience” pg. 150 Preach

Morgan go away. Why do you think Harry is a traitor? I thought we settled this. Why are you being so mean to Harry. Why did you break into his house. Dude chill. Harry put the sword down. That’s some entrapment if I’ve ever seen it. Merlin why?

Mister to the rescue yay!

“Believe it or not my first instinct isn’t always to set things on fire” pg. 182 I don’t believe it

Toot-toot!

“Dumped the cold water directly down my pants” Ha

Harry is making all the enemies. It’s like he’s trying to collect them all!

“A child could do better” pg. 249 I find it amusing that Harry complains(?) about people doing magic badly.

“I’m with Winter for now. But it’s a one shot. Think of me as a free agent” pg. 264 :( I don’t like that foreshadowing for Harry

“Mab usually likes her agents…colder, I think. Hungrier. More cruel.” pg. 272 More bad foreshadowing for Harry

“Except for Larry Fowler, who probably wants you on the show again” pg. 338 What. Did I miss something? When was Harry on the Larry Fowler show?

Is it bad that I want a fae godmother?

“I need my hand, Godmother. Both of them.” pg. 350 Ha

Boo Morgan go away. Why do you hate Harry Morgan? What’s he done to you? Why don’t you just let Harry talk to Ebenezar?

Harry doesn’t have another way to contact Ebenezar?

“Child. Should you survive this conflict, do not let Mab bring you here. Never” pg. 357 Well that’s not foreboding

The Mothers are cool

“Spooky he said. He doesn’t look all that smart.” pg. 407 Ha

“Bite me, faerie fruitcake” pg. 409 Ha

Everyone keeps calling Harry “Wizard”

Ha Harry’s up a tree

I like Gatekeeper

“That’s the last time I let Maeve hire the help. I indulge her too much.” pg. 453 Ha

“I don’t believe in faeries” pg. 462 Ha

Go Fix!

“Meep, Meep!” and ran like hell. “Damn thee, wizard!” pg. 475 Ha

“It was Meryl. She’d Chosen” pg. 483 MERYL!

Poor Aurora

“Go away, Mab” pg. 486 Ha

“Accept that power and all debts between us are canceled”

“I’m sure we can find some way to amuse ourselves with this one until time enough has passed to offer again.” pg. 487 So this is when Mab first offers Harry a job.

Poor Meryl :(

“Complemented his smile” pg. 490 Bi Harry 10

“Lord, what fools these mortals be” pg. 495 Ha

Final thoughts

Sadly no Marcone. He better be in the next book. Only one Bi Harry moment that I could find. But we did reach double digits on the counter. I liked all the lore we got with the fae. I’m sad for Maryl and Aurora. My dislike of Morgan, LaFortiner, and the White Council grows. Not a fan of Harry/Elaine. I like Ebenezar and Gatekeeper. Not a fan of the foreshadowing for Harry about the Winter Knight. I liked the book. Onto the next book!

#dresden files #harry dresden is bi #summer knight

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thomas-jefferson-miku-binder · 2 years

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the boys season one review

favorite characters: frenchie, hughie, kimiko, mm, madelyn, homelander, starlight and queen maeve (not on that order, but the top ones are very probably the first three)

the world-building in this shit is fucking insane holy fuck. it’s exactly what i would imagine would happen is superheroes were real. also the references to marvel are hilarious

characters i don’t like: the deep obviously and also not a super fan of butcher, don’t know, he just didn’t get to me, don’t find his storyline very compelling either

honestly was very surprised with stilwell's death, was not expecting it

boyfriend told me they call kimiko the female in the future and i took psyche damage

love the acting and the costume design (like fr) and the soundtrack and the acting as well as the special effects

HOMELANDER: his character is so intriguing. i love to hate him and at the same time i’m so fucking scared of him it’s almost palpable. he decays between victim and culprit and i find that the way it is portrayed it’s fucking magnificent

HUGHIE: i didn’t expect to like hughie as much as i do. he’s genuinely a very compelling character and feels very real despite all the insane shit that happens to and around him. my friend complained about how his motivation is a bit cliche like oh dead girlfriend oh no but i really don’t mind and found that it hits right in a sweet spot. it’s not only about robin, it’s about escaping the monotony that surrounding him and being something more. very very cool character

FRENCHIE: at the beginning i was like oh ok fine i guess but he grew a lot on me. his personality, his whole gimmick, his genuine care for kimiko… i still think s lot about the scene where he describes the first person he killed, the women in the elevator. amazing acting and a very well-written character

KIMIKO: i would literally die for her. such an interesting character and concept. she reminds me a lot of katana and cassandra cain (and my call of cthulhu character, maybe that’s why i’m biased). HONESTLY SO MANY PROPS TO KAREN FUKUHARA. the way she conveys emotion without having a single line the whole season is so impressive. the way she’s slowly healing is very very heartwarming too

MOTHER'S MILK: IT FEELS SO NICE TO HAVE AN EMOTIONAL INTELLIGENT CHARACTER HOLY FUCK. i appreciate him a lot and feel like he adds so much to the boys dynamic. it’s so satisfying to have someone who’s actually in touch with his feelings be such an important character and that participates s actively of the storyline. i love him a lot and how his actor portrays him too. also love his dynamic with frenchie

QUEEN MAEVE: honestly the plane scene is one of my favorites from the whole season. love her actress too. not much to say about the character but she has a lot of potential and i’m already very attached to her.

STARLIGHT: i have a love-indifferent relationship with starlight. there’re times where i think man that’s a great character and others where i couldn’t care less about her. right now i’m in the love phase tho. despite this mood swing, i really love her plotlines, they’re all very compelling. (and i love her powers too very cool stuff)

MADELYN STILLWELL: YES YES SHES A BITCH SHES AN OLD SINGLE MOTHER SHES A PSYCHO SHES EVERYTHINF IVE ASKED FOR AND MORE. really shocked with her death man i was really not expecting that. great great awesome character

to conclude i love how the series drops little pieces of lore throughout the show. how maeve is a recovering alcoholic, how the only reason the guys at the chinese restaurant didn’t kill kimiko was because they couldn’t… that kind of stuff. very cool

#the boys #the boys season 1

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rowanaelinn · 3 years

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Slipped away - chapter one

prompt - single parent @rowaelinscourt

“It’s cold,” Fenrys complained, sitting on Rowan’s new couch.

“We are in the north, you dumbass.” Lorcan snapped. “Of course it’s colder than what you’re used to.”

“Doranelle is in the North too.”

Lorcan took a deep breath, apparently, he wasn’t feeling very patient today. “I don’t know, Fenrys, it might be because we are on a whole other continent, maybe?”

Rowan snorted at his friends, Fenrys was playing dumb just to annoy Lorcan and as always, it worked. They were enjoying their last day of rest before their first day of work tomorrow. It wasn't a new job, not really. The company they worked for had just moved from Doranelle to Orynth, and of course, Rowan and the other employees had to move too.

Rowan knew that with the opening of the new Valg Industries headquarters the next few months would not be smooth sailing, but he believed in himself. Maeve was so confident that she even promoted him. It was a new beginning for Rowan and he was happy about it, his life in Doranelle was the perfect definition of dull. Not that he hated it, he was just glad to be away from his cousins. He didn’t hate them, they were just so… meddlesome.

Rowan walked into his kitchen and opened his fridge, empty. He cursed under his breath. The few bottles of beer he had last night ran out very quickly, they didn’t even have leftovers of the pizza they ordered yesterday. Which was a problem because Rowan was starving and there was no way he would order food for the second night in a row, it had already bothered him to do so yesterday.

He checked his watch, six in the afternoon. He was pretty sure the grocery store didn’t close before seven, he had little time if he wanted to go there. He needed to be quick. “Going shopping, be gone when I come back,” Rowan told his friends as he picked his car key. He needed some time alone but he knew they would probably still be there when he came back, his friends weren’t ones to listen.

He slammed the front door behind him and got into his car. It still smelled new, the leather still a little too stiff under Rowan's body. He had gotten the car yesterday, he had decided that if he was going to change his life, he would do it all the way. Nothing in his life in Doranelle set foot in Terrasen except his friends and his job.

Rowan lived in an upscale residence in downtown Orynth. Between his family's money and the money he was making even before he was promoted, he could afford it. He didn't want to live in the apartments that the company offered to its employees, he needed some peace and quiet.

So Rowan took a house that was too big for him, in a suburb full of family, as if he wasn't almost thirty and wasn't still alone. He had never felt so out of place, but he would get used to it.

He had chosen the opposite of the life he had until then, wanting space. He had left to forget.

When he pulled into the grocery store parking lot, Rowan could have sworn he saw a familiar face. He blinked and it was gone, he shook his head. How could he recognize anyone if he had never been to Terassen? He needed to sleep.

He got out of his car and shivered slightly. Maybe Fenrys was right, it wasn't cold but it was definitely colder than Doranelle at this time of year.

He walked into the store, it was large. Everything in Terassen looked big. The houses, the buildings, the stores... Rowan could get used to it.

He took a basket from the entrance and went straight to the vegetables. The store was almost empty considering the time of day, he could hear a couple of kids laughing in the background but otherwise, everything was quiet. It felt good to be away from the world.

He selected enough vegetables for three days, preferring to shop for short periods rather than a whole week. It made less mess and allowed him to control what he ate. That's one of the things he needed, control.

"Gotcha!" He heard a woman's voice laugh rather loudly.

"Noooo!" A little girl said and Rowan heard her laugh and ran. Gods, children were loud.

A few seconds later, something hit Rowan's legs. He looked down to find a little girl. She was a brunette with blue eyes. She laughed and stood up. "Sorry," she said before running off again to lose whoever was trying to catch her, but it was too late. A tall blonde lady came running up and threw herself on top of the little girl, grabbing her under the arms and throwing her over her shoulder. The little girl screamed with laughter and tried to struggle as the adult spun around. "Stop!" the child screamed but continued to laugh.

Rowan felt like he was intruding but he couldn't stop the tip of his lips from rising slightly. The adult stopped spinning but did not let go of the child, the little one wrapped her arms around the woman's neck and hid her head. "Hey, little monster, did you apologize?" She asked, her eyes still on the little one. Rowan couldn't see her face with the hair hiding it. "Huh?" She shook the little girl slightly but she refused to look at her.

"She did," Rowan said, not wanting the little girl to get into trouble. When the woman looked at him, his heart stopped beating and his whole body froze. It was impossible.

Did the gods hate him that much? What had he done to them for them to punish him like that?

Her eyes widened and he noticed her body going still, her hold around the girl tightening. Her mouth opened and then closed.

As he had been years before, he was struck by the intensity of Aelin Galathynius’s gaze. These blue and gold eyes were mesmerizing, had always been and always will.

His only thought was that she looked older, but since he had last seen her when she was nineteen it wasn’t surprising. She looked like a woman now, and womanhood suited her. She was wearing a white shirt and black skirt, a simple outfit for a working woman, and yet Rowan couldn’t help but stare longer than necessary at her body. If she had been beautiful seven years ago, she was magnificent now.

He wanted to punch himself in the face, so much work to forget about everything that happened, so much work to ignore the guilt and pain just to be ruined by a meeting in a grocery store.

“Rowan,” she breathed.

“Hi, Aelin.”

The little girl looked at him and he noticed everything she had in common with Aelin. Her eyes first, and the same nose and lips. They looked so similar.

Suddenly he was struck by the truth standing in front of him. While it had taken everything in him to try to forget about her, Aelin had moved on. And she had a daughter. Aelin had a life and if the laugh she let out a minute before was any indication, she was happy.

“What are you doing here?” He blurted.

A snort. “What am I doing in a grocery store?”

“In Orynth.”

“This is my hometown.” She said, her voice so tight he couldn’t guess what she might be feeling. It had always been so damn hard to read her. Orynth was her hometown? How come he never knew that? He knew she was from Terassen, her accent betraying her, but didn’t know exactly where. He knew so much about her but at the same time so little. That little truth hurt. “What are you doing here?”

“I moved. For work.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Fuck, that was awkward. “How old is your daughter?” He asked, nodding toward the small girl playing with Aelin’s hair. Aelin looked at her and her expression softened a little.

“Oh, no. She isn’t my…” She took a deep breath. “She’s Aedion and Lysandra’s daughter. I’m just babysitting for the night.” Right, Aedion. That’s why the small girl looks so much like Aelin. “Remember Aedion?”

Of course, he did, last time he saw the man Rowan got his nose broken and a black eye. He wouldn’t forget his old friend so soon. But Rowan didn’t care about that, right now he only cared that Aelin, in fact, didn’t have a daughter. It was easier to breathe suddenly. “Yeah.”

“But she’s four,” Aelin said and he knew it was only so she had something to say. Talking was awkward but the silence was worse.

Before he could say anything else, someone interrupted them by hitting Aelin’s legs, hugging them. This girl was blonde, Ashryver blonde. Gods, how many children did Lysandra and Aedion have?

The youngest paused on the ground and did not waste time before leaving from where she came. Aelin seemed to forget Rowan's entire existence as she knelt down to face the child, though she looked even tenser than a few minutes before.

"Hey, pumpkin, what's going on?" She asked softly, delicately taking the girl's grip to force her to look at her. "Tell me."

"Asper pulled my hair!" The girl cried and Aelin smiled.

"Did you try to tickle his neck?" She asked, making Rowan choke. Aelin didn’t spare him a glance. He wanted to ask her why she wasn’t punishing this Asper for pulling hair but he guessed Aelin would beat him up if he questioned how Aedion chose to raise his children. “You know how sensitive he is.” She smiled at the child. The girl sniffed heavily and Aelin used her sleeve to dry her tears. "Go back over there, I'll be there in two minutes." The child nodded briskly and before she left, she turned her head to Rowan.

His blood ran cold as green eyes fixed on him.

She looked like Aelin on the little one before, of course, but not only that. Did she... No. Lysandra had green eyes too. Rowan could have sworn that Lysandra's eyes were much lighter, but he hadn't seen her in seven years. He was wrong. He had to be wrong.

"Hi!" She said with a big smile. She was missing a tooth in the front, but that didn't take away from her charm.

Rowan swallowed, "Um, Hi." He managed to smile but he couldn't help that she looked too little like Lysandra.

“Are you a grandpa?” The girl asked and Rowan choked. “Only grandpa has grey hair.” She smiled and looked proud of herself. Silver, his damn hair is silver, not grey.

"Go ahead, Helia," Aelin said before Rowan could answer, her voice firm. She pushed the little one toward the alley away from Rowan. Aelin stood up when the little one was gone and his eyes shot to hers.

"It was nice to see you again," she said but he knew she was thinking the exact opposite. Rowan's heart was beating so loudly that Rowan could hear it pounding in his ears.

"Aelin," He called to her, stopping her in her tracks. " Just how... How old is she?"

"Bye, Rowan." Her voice left no room for questions, but he didn't care. He didn't care about what happened in college and now wasn't the time to start.

"Answer me." Not a question and she knew it. He could swear he saw the gold ring in her eyes flutter, a sign he had learned to recognize as anger. Well, let her be angry, he deserved answers.

"Ace, is everything okay?" A man with nearly black hair and sapphire blue eyes asked him. A boy a little taller than Helia was sitting on the man's shoulders and when Rowan saw his green eyes...

He had to be wrong.

"Aelin?" The man asked again as Aelin hadn't looked at him yet, her gaze still on Rowan.

"Yes." She replied with her voice cold. "My friend was just leaving, right?"

The way she said the word "friend" was anything but friendly. Fuck, he wanted to yell at her, he wanted to demand answers now, but he didn't. The two little girls were behind Aelin and the man, watching what was going on.

"Answer my question first."

"Get out." She gritted through her teeth.

"Why do you have your angry voice, Mommy?" The little boy asked and suddenly Aelin's eyes softened and she looked at the boy. She grabbed him by the underarms and took him in her arms.

Mommy.

Her son.

Clearly not the son of the man next to Aelin. He looked about six, maybe even seven.

No. That was impossible. It was only one night. One night he had spent the last seven years regretting...

“Mommy’s not angry.” She smiled as she caressed her son’s hair. Their… No, her son. For all Rowan knew, Aelin only had a thing for men with green eyes. It meant nothing. “But she’s busy right now, go back to the car with uncle Dorian, okay? Then we’ll eat pizza, that’s your favorite, right?” The three kids cheered and Aelin gave her son to the man, Dorian.

“You okay?” He asked, touching Aelin’s shoulder. Rowan didn’t know why but he wanted to slap the man.

“Yeah, I’ll be there in two minutes.” She reassured him and he nodded, letting Aelin’s son on his shoulder as he held the two girls by their hands and walked back to the parking lot. Rowan wanted to stop him, wanted to ask that boy and girl how old they were but they were just kids. He couldn’t scare them. This was between Rowan and Aelin.

“I deserve the truth.”

“You don’t deserve shit. Not after what you did.”

“It was between me and you, not between me and-” He was cut off by her.

“There is nothing between you and them. Do you understand me? Nothing.” Them. So the girl…

He couldn’t take it. She had made it clear already, deep inside he knew the answer to his question but he needed to hear her say it. “Are they mine?” He finally asked and if looks could kill, Rowan would be buried already.

“They are mine.”

Why did she have to be so fucking complicated? He clenched his fists, trying to keep his anger inside him but it was so damn hard. “Am I their father?”

Both of them were breathing heavily and Rowan was glad for the empty store now, not wanting to cause a scene. “No.” Her voice was lethal and Rowan’s mind froze. He didn’t know if it was a good thing or not. But they looked so much like him… “If your question is whether or not you knocked me up, the answer is yes. But you are not a father. Never been and never will be to them.”

They were his. Rowan’s entire world stopped and he wasn’t sure how he kept standing. He was a father, no matter what Aelin said.

“How could you hide this from me? How could you take them away from me?” He was screaming now. He didn’t care about causing a scene anymore, he didn’t care about anything but the two kids in a car outside. “They are my kids!”

“You don’t even know their fucking name!” She was screaming too, cheeks red. Fuck, why did she always had to be the most attractive when she was angry? He hated her so fucking much. “I am the one who’s been raising them alone for almost seven fucking years!” She didn’t look alone, not with that Dorian by her side.

Suddenly, he knew Aedion didn’t punch him for what he and Aelin shared the last night he saw her. He had punched him for getting his cousin pregnant. He knew Aelin hadn’t been honest about what happened between them after the sex or he would have been dead by now, so now he was sure it was because of the kids. He had deserved it, deserved more than the five punches Aedion managed to give Rowan before Fenrys and Lorcan separated them.

“I will die before I let you treat my children like you treated me. Get out of Terassen, nobody wants you here.”

She left storming out of the store without her groceries and Rowan was frozen. He knew he should go back after her and apologize, he should beg her for a chance to know his kids but he couldn’t move.

He had children, twins. And Aelin had been raising them alone because of him, because of what happened.

He was so fucking screwed.

He didn’t care about what Aelin told him, he wouldn’t go anywhere. It was too late to save what could have happened between him and Aelin, it had been too late since the night she left his apartment in tears. But it wasn’t too late for his children and he would fight for them.

————

@sheharahu // @morganofthewildfire // @thestoriesyoutell // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @swankii-art-teacher // @itsforeverinnocent-blog // @becarefuloflove // @imnotsogoodatthis // @rowaelinismyotp // @a-court-of-milkandhoney // @feysand-loml // @surielandiareendgame // @live-the-fangirl-life // @story-scribbler // @loves-books // @fangirlprincess09 // @theysayitscrazy // @hellasblessed

#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass fanfiction #rowaelin month #rowaelinmonth #slipped away

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herroyalbubbliness · 3 years

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Sex Education

Photo Credit: @IMDb

First, I want to give a special shout out for the Nigerian representation in this season.

As a Nigerian, I was so surprised when I saw Eric dancing to "Shake body by Skales."

youtube

I mean even his dance was a vibe. I was screaming and so happy because most times when Nigerians are mentioned in foreign shows, we are always represented as "African" and I keep saying Africa is a continent, Nigeria is a country.

We have so many cultures in Nigeria and seeing the Yoruba culture so well represented here, I feel like a proud mama. We had "Fela, Sweet Mother, Fall by Davido, Joro by Wizkid, Attention by Tiwa Savage" and more playing.

From the aso ebi sown in beautiful styles like iro and buba, sokoto and fila, the beautifully tied geles to the Yoruba language that was spoken so well (especially when the woman complained about the small portion of stew given to her, that was hilarious and spot on). Thank you, thank you so much for this.

As always this was another beautiful season with so many heartfelt moments that left me teary-eyed.

I loved how some of the characters were fleshed out and we even got to know some of their backstories which helped us connect and appreciate their struggles more and their journeys to overcoming them.

I love how this show is always unafraid to shed light on different sexual issues, representations and so many other issues we have in reality, holding up the mirror to look at ourselves. I know this show has helped me to see things from another perspective.

The moment between Maeve and Aimee with Aimee saying let's be each other's moms🥺❤. The friendships in this show are just so beautiful.

I love that this show portrays healthy romantic and platonic relationships among flawed and growing characters. That's what makes it so relatable and educative because we are flawed in reality. Shows us we don't get to use our flaws as excuses. We can make an effort to work on and through our issues.

The moment between Dr. Jean Milburn and Mr. Micheal Groff was beautiful as she helped him open his eyes to see it is okay for men to cry. Do what you love that gives you joy, there are no 'gender roles'.

Adam Groff with Madam in the competition was so beautiful to watch, their performance getting recognised and the fact that his teacher and mom came, oh my heart. Especially considering he has been trying to figure out what he is good at. The sad part was when he told his mom not to tell his dad that he didn't win a 'proper' prize. The toxic cycle really needs to end.

Pls feel free to reply me with your favourite moment that touched you. There are so many for me.

#sex education #sex education season 3 #sex education netflix #yoruba #nigeria #Youtube #sex education s3 #sex education series 3

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tomtenadia · 3 years

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Fire in her veins - a Island Dreams AU oneshot

So, yesterday Island Dream reached the amazing milestone of 5k hits on AO3. For me, it means the world especially because ID has a special place in my heart. It was my first long Rowaelin, set in a place that I adore. It’s more than just a story. It’s set in a part of Scotland that has completely stolen my heart.

So, to celebrate I asked for prompts and @whimsicallyreading gave me a brilliant one.

“Aelin accidentally distracts Rowan and their stove catches on fire 🥰 would be funny to see the ID crew interact with a Fire Department 🤣”

inspiration hit in an instant. This fic is set about three years after the epilogue. The twins are 7 and Dalamar is 4. The story has a very Freyja-centred ending, mostly because she is my favourite. She is wild and fierce like her mother and she is funny. (Don’t get me wrong I adore Morrigan and Dalamar too. They are calmer and adorable in their own way.)

If you are new to Island Dream you can find it HERE

Well, without much further ado I will leave you to the story.

Rowan had a busy day at work. The bookshop had become very popular in town and business was good especially since Aelin had convinced him a while before to set up an internet page and an online ordering system. It had taken a while to really kick in but now he was basically serving the whole of the Hebrides and he had started getting orders as well from some remote location on the western highlands. Aelin had been right. She was the one who had started his Facebook page after all. He hated the whole thing - he had even deleted the profile he had created for fun, but he could not deny that it was handy for business. He had started promoting his events, he had hosted some indie authors and also had started a reading club at the weekend. He was proud of the job he had done. And now, with his aunt he was working on another stage. Her cafe had been shut for a few months after the last bad storm and flooding had caused some heavy damage. So when the bill for repairs had come Maeve knew it was too much and had decided to close to the dismay of the locals who loved her cakes and food. But Rowan had come up with a plan. The unit next to his shop had been vacant for a while so, he offered his aunt a deal. She could reopen her cafe inside his bookshop and they could merge the two units together. It had taken some convincing but in the end Maeve had accepted and the works had officially started.

Life was busy but he had never been happier. The twins were seven and were in P2 and Rowan could not believe how quickly they were growing up. Freyja was still as wild and school had been a challenge. She hated being forced to sit at a desk. Hated the uniform. Hated school, but apart from her rebel attitude, the teachers kept telling them that she was a bright pupil and both Rowan and Aelin relaxed. Morrigan, on the other hand was the opposite of her twin. She adored school and was still the quiet one in the family. Dalamar was still at nursery and was meant to start school the following year.

On that day Evalin had picked up the kids and brought them to the shop, something they adored. Then Rowan had taken them to swimming practice. He had kept his part time job as swimming instructor and the kids had followed in his footsteps. The twins being older were taking proper swimming classes while Dalamar just joined the club for the wee ones and splashed happily in the water while his sisters learnt to swim. When Aelin was not busy at the hospital she would accompany them and play with Dalamar.

Usually the swimming classes were enough to exhaust his kids that he could cook in peace while waiting for Aelin to get back. That evening she had texted him that they had a last minute emergency and was running late.

He tried for the umpteenth time to concentrate on a recipe for the evening when Freyja barged in the kitchen running followed by her brother and screaming that a dragon was chasing her.

Rowan grabbed his daughter and lifted her in his arms burying his face in her belly causing the girl to laugh hard “dad, the dragon” and wiggled in her father’s arms to get free but Rowan did not let go. He just walked to Dalamar and offered him his free arm “hop on, oh mighty dragon.” The boy grabbed his father’s forearm swinging like a monkey and Rowan walked into the living room, his daughter under one arms and his son swinging from the other like a jungle creature.

Morrigan joined the chaos a moment later. Rowan kneeled and she climbed on his back.

In that moment he heard the door of the house open and an instant later Aelin waltzed in the living room and saw her husband completely overwhelmed by their children. She laughed at the scene “what is happening in here?” Her hands on the hips.

“A dragon is following me.” Shouted Freyja, with still too much energy in her.

“I am not a dragon, I am a monkey.” Replied Dalamar, swinging a bit more from Rowan’s arm.

“And what are you doing, Morrigan?”

“The dragon has burned the floor.”

Rowan moved to the sofa and started to deposit the kids down “come on, let dad cook dinner. And don’t shout too much, mum is tired.”

The kids slowly climbed down their father and went to greet Aelin who hugged them all “did you all had a nice day? Did you go swimming tonight?”

“Yes.” The two girls shouted “Dad taught us how to jump in head first.”

Rowan roared with laughter “and they still are two clumsy little terrors who smash their bellies.”

“Be careful with that.” Said Aelin in full doctor mode “that type of jump is very risky, they can snap their neck if do not enter correctly.”

Rowan took a step towards his wife and wrapped his arms around her “I know. I would never put our daughters in danger.”

“Good,” she gave him a chaste kiss “now let mum take a shower and dad cook?”

“Tha.” Replied the three kids in unison.

The kids climbed back on the carpet Dalamar going back to his bricks, Morrigan to her colouring book and Freyja just kept swinging her plastic sword fighting some imaginary monster. While Aelin disappeared in the bathroom, Rowan finally managed to get back to the kitchen and think about dinner. It was getting late for the kids and he knew they would soon start to become agitated again and start bellowing for food. He grabbed a towel and threw it on his shoulder and then started preparing the ingredients. He was preparing veggie burgers made out of cous cous and chickpeas. The kids loved them. He was the one who cooked the most in the house since his hours were far more reliable and he had been doing his best to cook healthy meals, to Aelin displeasure as she complained that there were always far to many vegetables in his dishes. But she was okay with the kids following a healthy diet. Morrigan was pescatarian. The girl could not stand eating meat and last time Rowan had tried to give her beef or chicken, the poor girl had been sick all night. Whereas fish, she loved it and she was a happy veggie eater like her father. Dalamar would occasionally eat meat but with very little enthusiasms whereas Freyja was just like her mother. She would eat anything on her plate.

He was busy preparing the patties when he felt Aelin’s hand around his waist and a gentle kiss on his back.

“How the shift at the hospital?” He asked while finishing the patties and heating up the oil in the pan.

“Long.” She sighed against his chest “your dear wife might need some adult cuddling tonight.”

Rowan laughed and turned in her arms, throwing his towel on the counter. A deep kiss that, after seven years of marriage still made her toes curl. Aelin’s hands linked behind his neck and Rowan pushed her against the island and Aelin moaned in appreciation.

Until all hell broke loose.

The smoke alarm pierced the quiet of the room with its grating sound and when Aelin opened her eyes again she saw a quickly spreading fire behind Rowan.

“Rowan!” She shouted.

He turned quickly and looked for something to stop the fire but he was paralysed and he knew enough that water was not an option.

Aelin was already on the phone with the emergency services while Rowan grabbed another towel and tried to smother the fire with the only result of burning his hand.

“Ro, fire department is on its way.” She took his hand “a bad first degree burn.”

He was about to go and put it under the sink but Aelin stopped him.

At the deafening sound, the kids burst in the kitchen but Aelin pushed them away, taking Rowan with her “Come on kids let’s go back to the carpet.”

Morrigan and Dalamar went in their mother arms scared by the commotion. Freyja was standing just near the sofa looking at the fire in the kitchen in a daze.

Rowan noticed her and grabbed his daughter in his arms, ignoring the searing pain in his hand “That is dangerous.”

“It’s pretty.” Said the little girl.

It wasn’t long after that the fire department arrived.

A woman with blonde hair, who was clearly in charge gave some orders and the team had the fire out in no time.

“Is anyone hurt?” Asked her, joining the family in the living room.

“My husband. First degree burn on his hand.” Replied Aelin pointing at Rowan leaning against the back of the sofa.

The woman called over the radio for a paramedic and Rowan scoffed claiming that he did not need one but at Aelin glared at him and he shut up.

And while Morrigan and Dalamar were still on the carpet quite shaken by the ordeal, Freyja was moving toward the tall woman. She reached for the hem of her bunker gear and pulled, claiming attention.

“Hello little one.” Said the woman kneeling to be at eye level with the girl “There’s no more fire. We fixed it. You don’t have to be scared.”

Freyja pouted “I was not scared.”

The woman laughed and brushed her silver hair and the girl grinned.

“Are you a fire woman?” She asked, looking at the adult in front of her with deep admiration.

In that instant another woman and a man came through and gave her a report, the woman nodded and got back to the girl in front of her “Yes, I am.”

Freyja beamed “can I be a fire woman too?”

The fire captain placed her heavy hat on the girl’s head which was gigantic on her but Freyja shouted for her parents but Aelin was busy speaking to the man and her dad was in the capable hands of a paramedic who was tending to his hand.

“You can be anything you want to be.” Said the woman softly, taking her hat back then she stood and Freyja bent her head upwards to stare at the woman while she walked to her parents.

“There is some damage and you will have to replace the stove and probably paint the wall near it.” She explained “I would suggest to have a fire blanket and a small fire extinguisher for cooking oils. They can easily be found online and they are good to have in emergencies.”

“We will. Thank you so much.”

The woman nodded and left with her team, while the paramedic was finishing fixing up Rowan’s hand “Keep it clean and change the bandage regularly. There are ointments that you can use to help the healing process. If it gets worse make sure you go to the hospital.” Rowan looked at Aelin and grinned “thank you. My wife is an A&E doctor, I am sure she will keep me right.”

“That’s why she looks familiar. Western Isles hospital, isn’t it? You are Aelin.”

“Hi Sarah.”

Once the house was quiet again Aelin relaxed for a moment and Rowan went to Morrigan and Dalamar while Freyja was still staring at the door where the fire department had left.

“What is it, my love?”

Freyja turned at her mother’s voice, her face beaming with unbridled joy. They were all shaken by the evening, but her fierce girl was actually smiling.

“That was a fire woman.”

“Yes, my darling.”

“I want to be a fire woman too.”

Aelin crouched down to meet her daughter’s eyes and brushed some hair off her face “you can be anything you want to be, mo chridhe. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Freyja hugged her mother then ran to her father, sister and brother shouting that she was going to be a fire woman.

Rowan joined Aelin a moment later and pulled her to his chest “I am sorry.”

“For what?”

“I got distracted.”

Aelin lightly punched him in the chest “I am the one who distracted you.”

He sighed “we have no dinner.”

“I’ll phone mum and ask her if we can go to her place.”

Aelin disappeared and Rowan stood in the kitchen looking at the mess. The fire had quickly spread and a part of the counter was damaged too. Everything was covered in foam and wasn’t even sure if it was safe to use the oven. The patties lay like burned blobs at the side.

Aelin came back a moment later “mum is happy to have us. She is probably making dinner already.” She tugged her husband “let’s go, buzzard. We’ll think about it tomorrow.”

Once they finished getting the kids ready they went back to their room “So, Freyja wants to be a firefighter. She was staring at the fire in marvel and was amazed at seeing the two women firefighters.”

Rowan pulled Aelin to his chest “She is fearless like you. She has fire in her. I can totally see her become a badass firefighter.”

Aelin hugged him back in silence.

“She is our wee fireheart.”

Twelve years later, when Freyja finished her training at the fire academy and was assigned at the firehouse in Stornoway Aelin and Rowan happily looked back at that night knowing that it had changed the life of their daughter and were never happier of a fire in their house.

#island dreams #rowaelin #rowaelinkids #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #domestic fluff

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scripts4dreamers · 4 years

Text

I literally JUST sat down, pt. 6

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Seven

AN: Alone time with Spencer Reid isn’t something you’re ever willing to pass up. Characters: Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi. Pairings: Spencer Reid x reader Spoilers: None Warnings: Mentions of crime and violence, alcohol

---------------------------

“I could eat a horse,” Emily grumbled, collapsing into her seat on the jet, “when’s the last time we had solid food?”

JJ shook her head, “God, I don’t know. Maybe yesterday?”

“18:43 yesterday,” Spencer agreed, shooting you a tired smile as he took a seat beside you, “that’s when the call from Martin came in.”

Everyone nodded, remembering the frenzy that followed the call, everyone rushing to gather SWAT units, interviewing witnesses again, formulating a plan of attack and a de-escalation strategy. It had been a blur of movement and activity and that, combined with the nearly 10 hour standoff that followed had carried you for well over 24 hours, and left everyone hungry, tired and in desperate need of a shower.

“Ugh, I did not miss this part of the job,” you whined in time with a loud grumble from your stomach, “do you have any idea how many meals I missed when I was working at the bookstore? None! Not one. I had three meals a day and as many biscuits as I could eat,” you sighed nostalgically, “those were the good days.”

Emily moaned, “Ah, biscuits. Tell me more.”

You chuckled and shot her a fond look.

“You’ve got no idea what you’re missing, Emily,” Spencer cut in, “the biscuits Y/N makes are heaven. The ‘better than sex’ ones?” He rolled his eyes and groaned, a noise that made your cheeks flush and sent a bolt of surprise straight through you, “I dream about them.”

JJ hummed her agreement, closing her eyes as she reminisced, “I remember those, they’re Will’s favorite too.”

“That’s because Will has excellent taste,” you joked, shooting her a flirty wink, “in all things.”

Emily frowned, “Hey! Don’t flirt with her, keep telling me about these Better Than Sex biscuits.”

It had been nearly two weeks since the last big break in your case and, honestly, it was starting to grate on your nerves. No matter what you did it was like there was this massive clock counting down the days until another body would be dropped in your lap, probably with some other creepy detail on it; like your first pet’s name carved into the victim’s forehead. Garcia had been tracking down security camera footage from the shopping center you’d visited to buy your perfume, but there hadn’t been too much luck. A lot of the shops had already taped over their footage, and the ones that hadn’t had been grainy or awkwardly placed. All that they could reliably see was a tall man in a dark coat with a baseball cap on mirroring your movements in a few different stores.

Garcia was trying her best to enhance the images but, until she could, they were stuck. The only thing that helped your nerves was being on cases, and the fact that you almost always had someone with you to help keep you distracted.

“Well, they’re biscuits,” you smiled.

“And?” Emily pushed.

“And they’re better than sex,” you finished.

Emily rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as she did it, “That so?”

“I guess it depends on who you’re having sex with,” Spencer offered, meeting your eye for just a second, “in my experience they’re definitely better than casual meaningless sex, like a one night stand, but maybe not better than all sex.”

Your eyes widened and, much to your embarrassment, you felt yourself flush again. Spencer Reid and sex were two things that you worked very hard to keep separate in your mind. If they ever overlapped it happened in private and late at night, when no one was around to see your pupils dilate. You were a profiler. You were surrounded by profilers, and you’d learned long ago that the only way to keep secrets from a team like that was to make sure that your body language was stable and consistent at all times. Spencer Reid made that difficult. Spencer Reid casually talking about sex while his thigh was brushing up against yours made it damn near impossible.

“I need to try these biscuits,” Emily declared, “Y/N/N, will you make me some? Please?”

You snorted, “When? My shop’s closed indefinitely.”

“You can make them at my place,” Spencer said softly, just to you, “I haven’t used the oven in my apartment since...ever, I think, but it should work.”

“I’m-I’m staying at your place?”

Spencer shifted in his seat, “Yeah, it’s my turn. Garcia didn’t tell you?”

You made a mental note to shave Penelope’s eyebrows off at the earliest possible convenience in retaliation, but you kept your face neutral.

“No, she didn’t. Are you sure you’re okay with this, Spence? I don’t want to be a burden, and I know that you really value your privacy.” You asked, keeping your voice low.

Spencer smiled, something soft and fond glimmering in his dark eyes, “Of course I’m sure, Y/N. This is about keeping you safe.”

“I know but-“

“No!” Spencer interrupted with a laugh, “No buts. You’re staying at my place. Okay?”

You pressed your lips together, a million different arguments fighting for prominence in your mind.

“Okay?” Spencer repeated.

You deflated, “Fine. Okay.”

He leaned back in his seat and gave you a smug smile as he opened the book he’d brought with him. War and Peace, in the original Russian of course. It was a painfully nostalgic image and you felt your eyes start to droop with exhaustion.

“You’re impossible,” you yawned, “you know that?”

He smiled, “Yeah, yeah I know, Y/N. Get some rest, I’ll still be impossible when you wake up.”

You hummed, feeling a rush of comfort and warmth as you let sleep drag you under.

“Night, Reid,” you mumbled.

——————————-

Spencer was weirdly nervous as he fumbled for his apartment keys. It was stupid, of course, you’d been to his apartment before. Hell, you’d practically lived there in the weeks after Maeve’s death, but something about this felt...different. Maybe it was that he knew that you were in danger, and because of that you being there felt like an act of trust. Maybe he was nervous that he hadn’t cleaned up enough, or that you’d spent the entire flight with your head on his shoulder. Maybe he was worried that his oven actually didn’t work and he’d gotten your hopes up for nothing. Maybe it was-

“Spencer,” you said with a gentle laugh, “I can hear the cogs in your brain whirling. Calm down, everything’s going to be alright, I’ve seen your place before.”

Spencer smiled and he felt the tension start to ease out of his shoulders. Maybe it was just because it was you. The key finally slid into the door and he welcomed you in, grabbing your suitcase with one hand as he went.

“Welcome to Casa Reid,” he said, “ignore the books, unless you want to read any of them of course. You remember where my room is, right?”

You shot him a look, “What? No! Spence I’m already intruding on your fortress of solitude, I’m not taking your bedroom too.” You flopped down onto his couch, crossing your legs on the cushion and your arms across your chest with a determined glint in your eyes, “I’ll be right here if you need me.”

He rolled his eyes fondly, “Really, Y/N/N? This is the hill you want to die on? I know you’re as tired as I am. Wouldn’t it be nice to just collapse into a soft bed?”

“I’m sure it would be,” you agreed, “you’ll have to tell me all about it tomorrow morning.” You pushed yourself up and grabbed your suitcase from his hands with a sweet smile, “I would love a shower though. Maybe when I’m done you’ll have thought of a clever comeback? If not,” you shrugged, “we’ll get dinner.”

And with that you strode off in the direction of Spencer’s bathroom, shooting him one last playful smile as you went. As soon as you were out of sight Spencer sighed happily, collapsing onto the couch you’d just vacated and listening as the shower switched on. He was tired, bone tired; he was starving, he was thirsty and there was a dull sort of pressure in his temple that might have been the start of a headache, but despite all that he didn’t care. He was happy, almost giddy really, and that was enough. While the sound of the shower echoed through his apartment, Spencer let himself start to drift off.

-------------------------

The moment you were done talking Spencer’s world went quiet. All around him he could see his friends’ mouths moving, their shocked faces burned into his mind as they begged you for answers, but it was like they were on the other end of a really long corridor and he couldn’t quite make out their actual words. Instead there was just this rushing in his ears and the pounding of his heart, just a little too loud, as he tried to process the idea of his world without you in it.

“I’m leaving,” he heard you say again and again, like a stuck record in the back of his mind, “I handed in my resignation a while ago. I’m just here to pack up my things.”

For some reason that didn’t seem right. It didn’t seem right that you could be “leaving” and then be gone for good on the same day. It was too fast, Spencer hadn’t had time. Time to process, to think, to convince you to stay, to come with you, to tell you how he felt, to cry, to yell, to throw things, to laugh to-

“We’ll still see each other,” you lied through a sheepish smile, “this doesn’t have to be goodbye forever. Just goodbye for now.”

Spencer shook his head, his eyes trained on the patch of floor just between your feet like if he stared long enough it might give him the answer. The answer to what? It didn’t matter. He vaguely heard Garcia complaining in her own way, and JJ asking you to reconsider but, still, it was like it was happening to someone else. You’re dissociating, the rational part of his brain supplied, you’re dissociating because you can’t cope with losing someone you care about, you can’t cope with losing Y/N. He pushed the thought away, forcing it into a box somewhere in the very back of his mind as he fought to stay in control in the moment. Oh wow, Spencer Reid has abandonment issues, he thought to himself, how original.

“Excuse me,” he muttered, hoping it was too low for anyone to hear as he turned on his heel and walked straight out of the conference room.

As he went he could feel the sets of eyes on his back and the heavy weight of a mixture of confusion and pity they brought with them. For once he didn’t care. All that mattered was that his eyes were stinging and his chest was tight and, no matter what happened you couldn’t see him cry like this. He couldn’t let you see him break down because, the second that you did, he would be found out. You would put your arm on his shoulder and say something kind and he would look into your eyes and….you’d know. You’d see all the pain and the fear and the betrayal and you’d know in an instant how desperately and completely Spencer had fallen for you. And that couldn’t happen, it just couldn’t.

——————————-

Spencer sighed, shaking his head to snap himself out of the sad reminiscing. His heart was strangely heavy at the memory and he swallowed hard past the growing lump in his throat. That had been a hard day, but it had been nothing compared to what had come next. Showing up at work everyday and being met with your empty desk, the suffocating absence of your laughter, your voice, Derek and JJ trying desperately to compensate, Emily’s sullenness, even Garcia and her constant little check ins. Everything they did just made it more obvious that you weren’t there, that you’d really left, and that you were never coming back.

He looked towards his bedroom without meaning to, subtly reminding himself that you were there and that he wasn’t on his own anymore.

For now, the cynical voice in the back of his mind whispered. Until this case is solved and she packs up and leaves again like nothing happened. Then it’ll be just like it was before. Except that that wasn’t true. No, this time it’d be worse.

------------------------------

Spencer fiddled with the strap of his satchel, working his jaw as he tried to get up the nerve to either walk into the bookshop or turn and leave for good. It had been nearly four months since he’d last seen you, but you still texted regularly and sent him pictures of the store whenever you could. Not that it ever felt like enough. Four months of fighting himself and trying to figure out what the right thing to do was. Should he chase after you and beg you to come back? Should he offer to help around the bookstore in his free time? What did he want from you? What was his endgame here?

For a long while Spencer just watched you through the glass as the questions whirled around his head like a hurricane. You looked happy, he noticed as you laughed at something one of your employees said, like you were in your element. There was a peacefulness about the way you moved here too, like there was no hurry, like you had all the time in the world. It had been a long time since he’d seen you that happy. Not since that night, the one he wasn’t supposed to think about anymore. Not since he’d ruined everything and set your friendship on a collision course with disaster. You’d never said so, but Spencer knew that that night was why you left. He knew it was his fault, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

He sighed, fighting down a sudden rush of bitterness that tasted like ashes in his mouth. Something about seeing you, really seeing you again,brought all the hurt and confusion of that night back to the surface. Maybe it was just that it felt real now, final, like something that was always meant to happen the way it had. Something he had no control over. But you were happy, he reminded himself, and that was all he really wanted, right?

Spencer felt something in his chest splinter and, while his resolve was still firm, he turned on his heel and walked away. It wasn’t his place, he told himself again and again as he walked, he had no right.

-------------------------------

“Spence?” You asked, your worried voice cutting straight through his daydream like a knife, “are you okay?”

His head whipped around and he felt the knot of anxiety in his chest loosen as he took you in. Your hair was wet from the shower, your skin dewy and soft-looking beneath your pajamas. You looked calm and strong, and so painfully familiar that Spencer felt something near his heart swell with appreciation. So he brought his attention back, leaving the mistakes of the past alone for the time being so that he could better enjoy the present. He was home, and you were safe and for a moment everything was right in the world.

“Yeah,” he answered with a smile, “yeah I’m good. I-uh-I didn’t want to order dinner before you were finished because I didn’t ask what you wanted.”

You relaxed ever so slightly, “Hmmm,” you started, making your way over to the couch and plopping down next to him like it was the most natural thing in the world, “how about pizza?”

Spencer smiled, “I could do pizza. What kind do you want?” he asked, pulling out his phone to place the order.

“Ohhhh no,” you replied, shaking your head, “no, no, no. I’m not falling for that one again, Doctor Reid,” you joked, “I will not have you topping shame me in my own home.”

“In your own home?” Spencer laughed, “Oh, so this is officially your home now?”

“For the next few days yes, it is,” you shot back smugly, followed by, “I’ll have whatever you’re having, but no mushrooms.”

“Since when do you hate mushrooms?”

“Since now, duh,” you replied with a shrug, “seriously though, so long as it’s warm and filling, I really don’t mind.”

“Two warm and filling pizza’s coming right up,” Spencer said, “Garcia leant me some movies to watch as well if you want.”

Joking around with you the way he always had was an equal measure of comforting and bizarre, but Spencer wasn’t going to question it. As you bickered back and forth about whether or not Legally Blonde was the best courtroom film ever made, he tried to shake off the slight sadness in his chest. It was impossible. Every time he made you laugh or saw the edges of your eyes crinkle with a smile he was reminded of that empty desk, and the hole in his chest, and the way losing you felt like losing an arm. It wasn’t your fault, you were being your usual incredible self, but that was sort of the problem. Small acts of kindness to you, like grabbing a blanket and throwing it over both of your legs without a second thought, were just that, small acts of kindness. But to Spencer they were like patches of warm sunlight when he’d been expecting cold weather. It was painful. By the time the pizza had arrived, he’d changed into pajamas and you’d convinced him to watch Legally Blonde, he thought he had it under control. Or at least under control enough that you wouldn’t notice. He was wrong.

Less than fifteen minutes into the movie you pressed pause, turning to face him on the couch with a determined look on your face.

“Okay, spill it.” You demanded, “What’s wrong?”

“What?” he asked, heat creeping into his cheeks, “I don’t-what?”

“You went somewhere,” you explained, “somewhere in your head. You only do that when something’s bothering you.”

“Nothing’s bothering me, Y/N, I just-”

“Spence,” you interrupted, scooching closer and staring into his eyes pleadingly, “please don’t lie to me. I know you too well for that to work. Just tell me what’s wrong, is it me? Did I do something?”

“No.” Spencer said quickly, desperate to wipe that sad look off your face “No, Y/N/N you didn’t do anything I’m just-I’m not-” he took a deep breath in, thinking through his words, “I’m not sure...how to do this, exactly.”

You tilted your head, confused but, to his relief, didn’t shut him down.

“How to do what?” You asked sincerely, “Watch Legally Blonde? I know it’s not exactly your style but-”

“No,” he laughed softly, “no, not the movie. I don’t know how to be here, with you,” he admitted, “like this. Everytime I think I’ve got it, I remember what it was like without you and I just-” he shook his head, “I shut down. I pull away, and I don’t want to, I want to be here because you’re my friend and I care about you. It’s just that everytime I try….”

“You imagine what it’ll be like to lose me,” you supplied, sadly.

“I don’t imagine it, Y/N, I remember it.” He said, “All those years of seeing you every single day and suddenly you were just gone, and I couldn’t handle it. I kept expecting you to just walk back in one day, or that I’d wake up and the whole thing would just have been some weird fever dream, but it never did. The months just stretched on and on and on and-” he met your eye, “and now you’re back, and everything’s great again, but it’s been more than a year and, I don’t know, I guess I just don’t want to get my hopes up.”

The admission made Spencer feel lighter, like a weight had been lifted from his chest but, when he met your eye, his heart sank just a little bit. You pressed your lips together into a thin line, sniffing as you fought back tears. But they were angry tears, Spencer realised. You were sad, but you were also furious, and it made him swallow hard.

“Spencer, I don’t know how many times I can apologise,” you finally started, “I should’ve given you more warning, I shouldn’t have kept how I was feeling a secret, I know that now,” you continued, “but you didn’t lose me. Nobody lost me. I lost you. I lost my family, my job, my second home, the entire community of people I’d built up, all of it. I was alone, really alone, and starting from scratch in a city I barely recognized because I’d spent the last however many years flying around the country and completely neglecting most of the city I actually lived in. I also discovered that, outside of the BAU, I have exactly two friends, neither of whom live in the state so, at first, I spent 99% of my time just sitting in my apartment crying over what a huge terrible irreversible mistake I’d made and eating cookies.” You explained. Spencer opened his mouth to interrupt but, before he could, you shot him a pleading look, and he let you continue, “And I know it must’ve sucked, not having me around. I know you must have felt completely hurt and betrayed and confused, and I swear to you, I’m not trying to minimize that at all. All I’m trying to say is...it wasn’t easy for me. I didn’t just step out of those doors into some sunny, perfect idyllic life where all I did was bake cookies and read books. It was hard. I worked hard, and I don’t want to have to feel bad about that.”

You looked so sad in that moment that Spencer wanted to cry. He had never truly considered the implications of leaving the BAU, of how hard it must’ve been starting over when being in the FBI had always been your dream. Instinctively, he reached out and took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, just so you knew he was there.

“I don’t want that either,” Spencer promised, “I’ve only ever wanted you to be happy, Y/N.”

You nodded, wiping your eyes as a few stray tears slipped down your cheeks, “I know that, Spence, I do. I just-” You let out a deep breath and seemed to pull yourself together, squeezing his hand in return, “it felt like the only person who cared about me was Garcia,” you admitted, “and so, coming back, I was really scared. I didn’t quite know what I was walking into. I thought I knew, but I wasn’t sure so I just-” you shrugged, “acted like nothing had changed. And maybe that’s my fault but-”

“It’s not your fault,” he interrupted, feeling a swell of protectiveness ballooning in his chest, “none of us knew how to handle a situation like this.”

“But I should’ve considered how weird this must be for you,” you insisted, “I should’ve known that you-that you’d need more time, or more space from me than the others.”

“I don’t want space,” he said earnestly, “I promise you, Y/N, the last thing I want is to be away from you again. I’ve made that mistake once and it didn't work out too well.

You gave him a watery laugh and Spencer felt his spirit lift just a little. It was crazy how simple everything became in Spencer’s mind when you needed him, how easily he could be open and vulnerable without fear. It was you, he’d do anything for you, even bare his soul to make you laugh.

“I guess, what I’m trying to say,” You continued, “is that I’m scared. I’m so scared that, the minute this case is over, I’ll be alone again, starting from scratch, with nothing but two Murder Storefronts that no one is going to want to come within one hundred feet of, and you guys will just go on without me.”

Spencer smiled and tugged you close, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into a tight hug.

“That’s not going to happen, Y/N/N,” he promised.

“How do you know?” You whispered into his hair.

“Because,” he replied honestly, “I won’t let it.”

-----------------------------------

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izzielizzie · 3 years

Note

Hi! Just wanted to say that your ooui HCs are amazing and on-point! Any Kris/Bayview four interactions HCs you can spare me? :)

aww thank you!! and yes!! i adore kris

at first he's just so confused by Cooper's entire friend group

he's in a constant state of "what is going on????" bc this is the most unlikely group of friends ever

Coop has to give him a crash course on the friend group

"Addy's the very overeager best friend be careful she will rope you into her schemes and Bronwyn gives the best advice but be careful she can be a little scary and Nate's great but he's closed off and Maeve's like the little sis- are you listening Kris this is important!!!"

oh my gosh Bronwyn and Nate's relationship would give him whiplash

"okay so since Bronwyn and Nate are a couple, maybe we could go to that movie as a double date thing?"

"Kris, babe, they broke up last week"

"they made up last week though????"

just a lot of confusion

but he and Bronwyn bond over hard college classes

they complain about chemistry together

oh actually I love that so much they definitely have rant sessions

it's so funny though and he gives Bronwyn really good advice about college and balancing work and fun and stuff like that

Bronwyn thinks of him as an older brother

speaking of older brothers

MAEVE AND KRIS do not even get me started on how much i love those two

like it is canon that Kris has this gentle way of steering people in the right direction, and he would use it to his advantage with Maeve

he wouldn't push Maeve to think about her future or her relationship with Luis, but he'd use these incredibly crafty ways to get her to think about those things

i mean Maeve knows that he's doing it, she's smart, but also she really appreciates it

he's the first person Maeve talks to about her cancer and he doesn't really say anything as she talks he just hugs her and listens to her

at the end he just smiles and says something along the lines of "Cooper told me you were fierce but he didn't tell me you were brave too" and Maeve knows he's not just talking about the cancer and honestly I love these two more than I should

Kris and Nate hardly talk, but they bond over how amazing their s/o is.

Kris does make it his life goal to make sure Nate eats though

it's hilarious and Maeve joins him when Bronwyn's at Yale

Kris and Addy are a whole different story

they do everything together it's insane

they go to Cooper's games and they hang out at Contigo with Luis and Maeve and they go for walks and drives and Addy convinces him to get a bike to go on bike rides with her

and Addy hangs out at his apartment all the time

he's the first person she comes out to

honestly they're siblings

lots of piggy back rides and jumping into Kris's arms whenever she feels like it

people mistake them for siblings all the time and they find it hilarious

the only person Kris gets along with better than Addy is Luis

they are best friends I cannot stress this enough they are best friends

like they bond over Cooper and baseball and their families' cooking

when Luis and Maeve start dating they have so many double dates that it's actually kind of insane

Kris and Luis go to every single one of Cooper's games

they know each other's families

honestly they're just brothers

it makes Cooper so happy

oh my gosh Kris and Phoebe

she adores him the moment she meets him

it's so funny Kris is basically her older brother

they talk about Phoebe's dad

and Kris gives her advice about Knox

he doesn't judge her when her Truth from the game comes out

ooo Kris and Knox

i actually don't know what their dynamic would be like

they never interacted in canon did they?

that's so sad

get on it Karen (please)

oh and Kris and Keely? Best friends

they bond over Cooper

Cooper hates it but also loves it

okay that's all I have hope you like it! also, if you want some amazing Kris + Bayview Four & Co. fics you should totally check out @glitterandgoldrush's fics on ao3 they're all amazing (and also shameless plug but we're writing a double date series right now that you should totally check out)

#kris (oou)#cooper clay #bronwyn rojas #maeve rojas #luis santos #nate macauley #addy prentiss #phoebe lawton #knox myers #keely (oou)#kris is so underrated i love him so much

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aperrywilliams · 3 years

Text

Maxcer HC/Blurbs: Mike Davis

Another one for Maxcer HC/Blurbs/Mini-fics! I’m working on the requests that have been sent to me so far. This one is a little longer.

Request: “Blurb request: Max and Reid and they encounter one of her ex-boyfriends who is total opposite of Reid. Thx.”

Word Count: 1.5k.

Warnings: Spencer being insecure and with lack of confidence. Jealous Spencer.

----------------------------------------------

After what happened with Cat Adams, the name “Mike Davis” didn’t come up again between Max and Spencer. Until it did, three months after that. They were in Max’s apartment eating pizza and watching a movie when in a scene, the characters started to talk about their past relationships. Max didn't bring the topic before because she knew about Maeve: after his release from the hospital, Max took care of Spencer for a couple of days, and one of those nights, he had a nightmare naming Maeve. Then he told her what happened. To say Max was shocked after hearing the story was an understatement. But Spencer didn't know much about Max's past boyfriends, so he asked. Max thought for a moment before answer.

“I haven't had many serious relationships in my life, but I guess the most important was Mike,” she said. Spencer narrowed his eyes, searching the name in his brain.

“Mike Davis?”

“Yeah. Well, I guess that's why I remembered his name when that psycho asked,” Max acknowledged.

“And why you both...?” Spencer wanted to know what happened, but he didn't want to invade Max’s privacy.

“Oh. You know, it wasn't easy. We lived together for five months, and in the beginning, things were like a honeymoon. We were so in love. For me, he was everything I wanted in a man. A lot of confidence, good-looking, connected to the art’s scene, charming. I know, an old-fashioned stereotype. But, things didn’t work in the end,” Max shrugged.

Spencer saw Max talking about Mike with some kind of nostalgia, so he knew the man was someone important in her life despite things didn't work out between them.

The days and weeks went by. Spencer and Max were feeling head over heels for each other. They spent a lot of time together, and both were more than okay with that. Everything was working so well that was unusual for Spencer. He wasn't used to be happy for more than a couple of weeks in a row. And now he was feeling like a teenager - the teenager phase he couldn't experience back then.

One night, after came back from a case, Spencer invited Max to dinner in a restaurant. They were having a good time after no seeing each other in five days. At some point, Spencer excused himself to go to the bathroom. When he returned, he saw Max talking with a man sat by their table. Spencer noticed two things studying the guy: he was obviously good-looking, and he was wildly smiling at Max. He approached the table and cleared his throat. Max and the man turned to see him.

“Hey,” Max greeted, smiling. The man looked at Spencer, frowning. Spencer did the same, taking his seat beside Max.

“I’m sorry if I took too much time,” Spencer apologized.

“No worries, baby. Well, let me introduce you. Mike, this is Spencer Reid, my boyfriend. Spencer, this is Mike Davis... we - we dated for a while,” Max said, not so sure about if it was the appropriate way to say that.

“C’mon, Max. ‘A while’? We lived together,” Mike corrected, extending his hand to Spencer. “Mike Davis,” he repeated. Spencer felt a heat rising in his body and a twist in his guts.

“Dr. Spencer Reid,” he introduced himself, extending his hand as well and shaking Mike’s.

“A doctor, uh?” Mike remarked. “Since when are you keen for the academia, Max? I thought you hated that,” Mike interjected casually. “This girl is a free spirit deep inside. She always complained about my unorganized lifestyle, but I know she loved it,” Mike teased.

“Mike, please. I don't think you know what you are talking about,” Max complained.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was joking. Please ignore me, doctor Reid,” Mike faked an apology.

Spencer could tell that the guy was an asshole, but he couldn't deny why girls feel attracted to him. A young man, good-looking, green eyes, with a charming smile. Long blond-haired. Toned pectorals behind his tight shirt. Casual clothes, according to his age and stature. And exuding a fucking huge confidence. The opposite to him: tall, lanky, with disveleshed hair, body barely toned. He always dressing in vests that make him look like a nerdy professor—and better not talking about his lack of confidence and constant insecurity. Yes, Spencer has improved on that, but Mike Davis was years ahead of him.

“Okay guys. I better go now. I don’t want to interrupt your dinner anymore. Was good to see you Max. Nice to meet you doctor Reid,” Mike said goodbye and left the place.

Max looked to Spencer searching for a reaction or comment. She knew Spencer profiled Mike for sure, but Spencer didn’t say anything. They finished their dinner in awkward silence.

“Are you okay?” Max asked after they paid the bill. Spencer nodded.

“Yes. I am,” he said.

No, he wasn’t. In his head the image of Mike Davis disturbing him. He was so different from him. The most annoying sentiment for Spencer was that Mike seemed a better match for Max than him. That only meant that his days of happiness were soon to end.

They left the restaurant and walked to Max’s apartment. When they arrived, Max knew something was off with Reid.

“Do you want to come up?” she asked. Spencer, with his hands tucked in his pockets, shook his head.

“No. I think I better get going home.”

“Oh. Okay,” Max wanted to ask him what was bothering him. She was clever enough to have a clue: Mike Davis. But she didn't know why Spencer was acting like that. Nothing extraordinary happened besides Mike being an asshole.

“Bye,” Spencer kissed Max’s cheek and turned to go home. At that moment, Max decided that she would not stay like that without knowing what was happening.

“Doctor Reid. Stop right there if you want to see me again.” Spencer stopped in his tracks and turned to see Max. “Now, you're going to tell me what’s wrong, and don’t tell me that nothing is wrong because you would be lying. I know I’m not a profiler, but I can tell.” Spencer gulped and approached her. Max folded her arms over her chest. Spencer sighed.

“Okay. It’s silly, I know, but I couldn’t stop thinking about if ours is... could be, in the future... I know! We said taking things slow, but... Why are you interested in me? I’m not even close to Mike Davis! And he is ‘all you wanted in a man’” Spencer quoted her words of months prior. Max’s eyes softened. In front of her, a nervous Spencer. Her heart ached knowing how confused he was. Spencer started fidgeting with his hands. Max took one of them in hers, trying to soothe him.

“I know. I look pathetic,” Spencer scoffed.

“None of that. Hey, listen to me. Please, Spencer, look at me,” Max asked. “It’s true what I said before: Mike ‘was’ all I wanted in a man. But time taught me that I wasn't going anywhere with that. Yeah. He said I’m a free spirit. Would you call free spirit someone that has her weeks and months all scheduled in a planner?” Spencer chuckled. “And I’m comfortable with that. Yes, I have my artistic side, but that was never a scene for me as it is for Mike. And I’m happy with that.” She cupped his cheek with one of her palms. “And I’m happy with you. You’re different from Mike, and thanks to God you are!” Spencer looked at Max mesmerized.

“You’re telling me that for not hurt my feelings,” Spencer mumbled, trying to sabotage himself.

“Look at me in the eyes. I’m lying to you?” Spencer did so and didn’t see any sign of deception.

“I like you a lot, Spencer. And I’m so eager to know you better and to share more of me with you. I don't need a Mike Davis when I have the chance to know and be with Spencer Reid. You’re my present Spencer. And I want all of my present time with you. And if the future comes and you don’t get sick of me, why not share the future?” Max’s voice was soft and Spencer could have melted in the spot. But before that, he cupped Max’s cheeks and leaned to kiss her. A sweet and deep kiss that Max reciprocated instantly. When they parted, both were smiling.

“That’s an appropriate kiss, you know?” Max teased. Spencer chuckled.

“I know. Thank you,” Spencer mumbled in her lips.

“Why?”

“For being honest with me. For being you. For coming to my life,” he leaned and kissed her again.

“I would say the same. Now, doctor Reid, are you really leaving me alone tonight? After no seeing us for five days?” Max asked, frowning. Spencer cleared his throat.

“Of course not. When did I say that?” he faked ignorance. Max laughed.

“That’s what I thought. Come on genius; we have a lot to catch up.” Max said, winking at him and grabbing Spencer’s arm. They both walked inside the building, hand in hand.

Now, Mike Davis was definitely in the past for both of them.

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Permanent Reid’s Taglist: @dreatine @andiebeaword @calm-and-doctor @mind-of-a-girl @katelynnwrites

Maxcer’s Army: @dreatine @andiebeaword @ironwoman18

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #max brenner #maxcer #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #dr. spencer reid #maxine brenner #spencer and max #spencer x max

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seasonofthewicth · 4 years

Text

A Groovy Kind of Love - Chapter 9

AN: a slightly longer one today guys, got myself all emotional with the rowaelin here and i hope it gets you too

masterlist - ao3

------

“He was friendly when he first came in,” Chaol’s normally subdued tone was full of energy as he spun his tale, eyes wide with excitement as he looked towards Aelin. “But then so quickly he goes completely crazy, shouting and ranting so loud in my face that Maeve has to come in and see what the problem is.”

Yrene laughed fondly at her husband as she rested a hand on his shoulder where she sat across the wooden staff room table from Aelin, “You could hear it all the way down the corridor.”

Aelin laughed as she took in Chaol’s wide eyed expression and Dorian’s restrained laughter, Yrene’s gentle grin and Nehemia’s cool smirk.

Her first parent-teacher conference at the new school was this evening, and to her absolute delight, her friends were busy spinning their horror stories. Admittedly, she was nervous for the event, and even though it wasn’t her first time it was always an unnerving experience at a new school. It was her opportunity to introduce herself to the parents as Miss Galathynius and show them who she was, what she had, and to prove to them that she was the best choice for their children.

Realistically, she knew she had no reason to be nervous, her class were a great group of children, they all tried hard and engaged enthusiastically with her lessons, but meeting their parents for the first time was important. Making her first impression as an educator was important, and she knew that people sometimes unfairly judged her. At her previous school she knew some of the parents had made some unfair and incorrect assumptions about her but she had tried not to let it bother her. Had tried to brush off their barely hidden insults about her styles of teaching and even her choices of clothing. She couldn’t change peoples’ opinions but she could try to change their lasting impressions of herself.

Dorian had assured her that the majority of the parents at the school were great, most were pretty chilled out as long as their child wasn’t falling too far behind, which Aelin knew hers weren’t. That said, it was Dorian who had prompted the story time session in the break room, wordlessly picking up on her nervousness and launching into every horror story he could remember from his years teaching.

Since their ill-fated affair he had cemented his place in her life as one of her closest friends, rivalling only Lysandra in level of familiarity and they had spent an increasing amount of time together. From coffee runs to lounging around the loft watching movies she enjoyed every moment they spent together and she was comfortable that there was no remaining awkwardness from their brief tangle.

She hadn’t told anyone the outcome of their date yet, she hadn’t had much time to catch up with Lysandra since, and it wasn’t something she was particularly keen to tell her roommates. As much as she loved them there were times that their typical guy nature made her hesitant to share, and her failure to sleep with her date was not something she felt like sharing with them.

She was especially reluctant to share that piece of information with Rowan, he had told her to forget about their moment in the kitchen, and she had tried. It just hadn’t worked out quite as she had planned. But she was resolved, she would get over him, and if having him think she was dating Dorian told him she was, she wasn’t complaining.

“It took five minutes for us to even figure out what he was yelling about.” Chaol continued, flashing her an exasperated look.

“Which was?” Aelin asked, already grinning in anticipation of whatever ridiculous answer Chaol could give.

In her experience Chaol was a by-the-book teacher. She liked him, he was pretty smart, straightforward and an involved and ambitious teacher, she couldn’t imagine him doing anything deserving of being shouted at by a parent.

“Chaol had, completely unreasonably,” Dorian drawled sarcastically, tossing his unstarted apple between his palms, “decided to offer his students a quiz for the last class of the week instead of one more hour of curriculum teaching.”

Yrene sketched a mocking gasp and Nehemia held a hand to her chest as she rolled her eyes at the story.

“Could you imagine such a thing?” She laughed, eyes dancing with mirth as she grinned over to Aelin.

Aelin shook her head in mock horror at Chaol, unable to fully hide her smile as she laughed along.

“How could you?” She asked, half laughing at the absurdity of the parent’s rage and half at Chaol’s over the top attempt at a dejected expression. “You aren’t actually making me feel any better about later, by the way.”

Yrene reached over to squeeze her shoulder, “You don’t need us to do that, they will all love you I’m sure.”

Aelin needed more of Yrene’s optimism in her life and admittedly the woman’s kind smile was infectious. She was also right, why wouldn’t they love her?

------

The documentary on the television hadn’t fully captured Rowan’s attention, it was something about an animal in the rainforest and he had missed the part where it’s name was given, but it would do for a lazy afternoon while the rest of his roommates were at work. The afternoons were one of his favourite times of the day, he had the loft to himself to read or watch or listen to whatever he wanted in the usually shared spaces rather than his ordinarily messy and somewhat cramped bedroom.

Being the only one of his roommates to not work in the daytimes had its ups and downs, the freedom and space was a definite pro, but sometimes it could be lonely sitting around the loft on his own, and the days Lorcan was off with him after working a shift were often ones he enjoyed the most. His friend had a sarcastic and wicked sense of humour that worked well with Rowan’s relatively blunt demeanor. He’d never tell him that though.

Of everyone in the loft he had known Lorcan for the shortest amount of time. Technically, but he didn’t count the years of Aelin being in his periphery as knowing her. They had met through Fenrys, and Rowan wasn’t convinced that even Fenrys knew how he had come to be friends with the surly male, their personalities weren’t ones Rowan would have expected to be friends, but years later Lorcan had managed to cement himself as one of Rowan’s closest friends.

He checked the time on his phone as the sound of the loft front door caught his attention, none of his roommates should be at the loft at this time.

Seconds later Aedion came into view, already shucking off his tie before launching himself onto the couch next to Rowan with a deep sigh. Rowan slowly turned his head towards his best friend, waiting for him to reopen his eyes before raising his eyebrows.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” He began. “But why are you here?”

Aedion laughed before rolling forwards to sit upright on the sofa.

“Turned in the final piece for one of our biggest accounts this morning so we all got the afternoon off.”

“Nice,” Rowan nodded, Aedion probably worked the hardest of all of them in the loft. He worked for a marketing firm that had a bunch of high profile clients and he spent many nights in the office working overtime. Rowan shared those unpopular hours, but was grateful he didn’t have the early mornings too. “What are you doing for the rest of the day then?”

Aedion shrugged. “Thought I could spend some quality time with you my friend. Maybe find out what you wanted to talk to me about the other day.”

Aedion’s smirk was predatory, and Rowan felt like a deer in the headlights. He opened his mouth then closed it again.

He had been more than lucky to have gotten away with it for so long, he was surprised Aedion had managed the few days of Rowan saying nothing before giving in and straight up asking.

Since Aelin’s date with Dorian the man’s presence had become a regular feature of the loft, each visit reducing Rowan’s desire to admit any of his feelings about Aelin to anyone, let alone Aelin herself. He had tried to avoid being in the room when they were snuggling on the couch or had quickly changed the topic when he had come up in conversation.

Message received. He was at least glad that Aelin seemed happy, and it was his own fault that it wasn’t with him. He had told her to forget it ever happened and she had. Why Aedion wanted to make him talk about it now was anyone’s guess, he just wanted to deal with it alone. Preferably by not thinking about it, or at least trying not to.

“Oh nothing,” He brushed it off. “It doesn’t matter now.”

Aedion raised a golden eyebrow, unimpressed with Rowan’s clear denial and he winced internally. He should have known better than to assume Aedion would have been satisfied with that.

“Are you sure?” Aedion’s question was all too innocent. “You sure it wasn’t about anyone in particular?”

Rowan gritted his teeth, knowing he was just going to have to let this play out.

Aedion took a moment, pretending to ponder his next words and letting Rowan stew in his anticipation. “Not even my darling cousin?”

Rowan felt his cheeks begin to burn as he chewed on the inside of his lip. Aedion was a smug son of a bitch, smiling at Rowan like a cat who got the cream.

Rowan took a deep breath in. “Don’t fucking tell anyone, okay.”

Aedion’s expression dropped into something slightly more serious.

“Pinky swear,” Aedion grinned at him and Rowan flashed him a glare.

“I’m definitely not saying anything if you’re not being serious.”

Aedion cleared his throat, making a show of sobering his expression. “I’m serious, okay, now go.”

“So you clearly know something went down between me and Aelin,” That was as good a place to start as any he supposed. “How did you even find out about that?”

“Lysandra.” Aedion’s voice was almost dopey as he said the woman’s name. Gross, even though he was happy for his friend it was gross.

“Nice to know you and your girlfriend have nothing better to do than gossip about me.” Rowan frowned.

“Believe me, we have better things to do,” Aedion’s grin took over his whole face. “It’s just when we’re done we move on to pitying you…”

“I said be serious.” Rowan said bluntly, embarrassed enough as it was.

“Sorry, sorry.” Aedion held his hands up. “Continue.”

“There isn’t much more to be said.” He paused, realising the almost uncomfortable truth in his own words. “She’s moved past it anyway, like I told her too, so that’s it. We’re good, no danger of that.”

The look Aedion gave him was pure pity and Rowan looked away fast.

“Ro,” His friend’s voice was soft as he said his name, but he struggled for anything more, clearly reading Rowan better than he ever wanted to be read.

Rowan shrugged. “It’s fine, we’re all good.”

Aedion opened his mouth to speak but Rowan interrupted before he could get a word out.

“You need to tell her about you and Lysandra.” He could only see the secret ending in disaster, and now he was involved. He owed it to Aedion to keep the secret, but the guilt of keeping it from Aelin was eating away at him.

Aedion sighed, “I know. We will, soon. It’s just, when? You know?”

“You need to do it soon.” Rowan told him, feeling somewhat like a parent scolding a child. “You’re only going to upset her, and keeping it all a secret longer is just going to make it worse.”

Aedion looked down to the couch they sat on, avoiding Rowan’s eyes.

“I know.” He sighed.

“I don’t want her to get hurt.” It was as much as Rowan was willing to admit out loud.

“I don’t either.” Aedion’s tone was defensive and Rowan sighed.

“Now,” He began, pushing off the couch and standing above his friend. “I have a shift at the bar, you coming?”

Aedion half-smiled up at him. “Alright, but I’m not paying for any of my drinks.”

Rowan scoffed, “When do you ever?”

Aedion rose to his feet, shrugging, “Just making sure.”

Rowan rolled his eyes, feeling as Aedion always made him feel, relaxed and amused with the usual hint of mild irritation.

------

The evening had passed relatively quickly, all of the parents she had met so far had been lovely and were well engaged in their children’s lives and education which Aelin always appreciated. She only had one parent left to meet, the father of her student Evangeline, a bubbly young girl who Aelin adored. The young girl was inquisitive and tried hard with anything Aelin threw at them, a perfect student in Aelin’s eyes.

A knock on her classroom door sounded and she jumped to her feet, calling out for them to come in as she rose. The man who came through her doorway was striking, his golden hair shone and his green eyes were bright. He was dressed in a sharp grey suit, his white shirt unbuttoned at the collar and his tie was missing.

He held a hand out for her to shake and she caught a brief glance of a tattoo on his wrist, one that looked almost like a snake, peeking past his expensive looking watch.

“Archer Finn,” His voice was low and smooth, as he flashed her a polished smile.

“Aelin Galathynius,” She shook his hand firmly and smiled widely. “Please, take a seat.”

The man slid smoothly into the seat opposite her, and she forced her mind to focus on the task at hand, and reminded herself that this was one of her student’s fathers. No sign of a ring, her unhelpful mind added.

“Thank you, Miss Galathynius,” He folded his hands in his lap. “I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to speak with you about Evangeline’s progress.”

Aelin grinned. “As have I, Evangeline is a fantastic student, the passion she displays in the classroom is phenomenal. Her artwork-- she displays a level of true talent.”

“Yes,” His tone was clipped. “That is what I have been hoping to talk to you about.”

Aelin felt her smile freeze.

“Evangeline will not be participating in any art activities from this point onwards, I don’t believe they are of any value. To put it bluntly, they’re a complete waste of time.”

Aelin was frozen, paused in a state of shock at the man’s words.

“I unfortunately have to disagree--”

He held a hand up to stop her and she recoiled.

“Please, Miss Galathynius,” He huffed out a condescending laugh and Aelin felt her blood begin to boil. “As her father I believe I know what is best for Evangeline.”

“And what is that?” She asked dryly.

Archer Finn seemed to take a moment, raking his eyes from her head to her toe before meeting her gaze again. She could tell the look hadn’t been one of appreciation and she bristled.

“What Evangeline needs is a teacher who takes her education seriously, someone who understands that painting her pretty pictures is a waste of time.” The sarcasm in his voice had her clenching her jaw, but she tried to rein in her temper, remembering that she was still new to the school.

“Mr Finn, I--”

He held a hand to her face again and stood, buttoning his suit jacket as he did, and Aelin slowly rose out of her chair.

“Mr Finn, I have a masters degree in children’s education, I know the value of creativity in learning.” Aelin could hardly keep her voice steady as she spoke, barely concealing the anger the man in front of her had managed to unleash inside her in such a short space of time.

The man seemed to sneer at her words, looking down his nose at her as he frowned.

“You may well have, and I’m sure it was worth every penny to you.” He smirked at her, crushing her with only a handful of words. “Either way, Evangeline will be seeing a private tutor during your creative hours.”

The scorn in his voice burned her, hitting her in a deep part of her soul that wasn’t often exposed. She knew she was right, knew that she knew what Evangeline needed, knew that her methods of teaching had merit and worth. This sad excuse for a father was blind and arrogant if he thought he knew better than Aelin, but she was trapped. What more could she say to change his mind?

In her silence he had crossed the room to pause by the door before turning back to look at her where she stood dumbfounded behind her desk, clenching her fists at her sides and trying to compose herself.

“I’m glad we had this chat, Miss Galathynius.” With that he was gone, taking his smug and condescending atmosphere with him.

Her breath rushed out of her in a gust, burning her throat as she held back the tears that threatened to fall. She couldn’t believe him, Mr Finn. The audacity he had to walk into her classroom and speak to her like that.

She dropped back into her seat, resting both of her hands against the cool wood of her desk and focussing on all the knots and whorls in the wood, breathing deeply in and out as she centred her thoughts. She almost couldn’t believe how her evening had ended up and she let out a brief snort at the idea that maybe her story could now beat Chaol’s from this morning.

A knock at her door snapped her to attention, if Mr Finn had come back for another go at her she wouldn’t be able to bite her tongue this time. Her fears were sedated when a familiar head of dark curls poked around the door frame.

Dorian’s smile was bright and easy as he walked towards her, perching on the front of one of her student's desks.

“So?” He asked as he crossed his ankles in front of himself, the portrait of a male completely at ease.

Aelin only shook her head, unable to sum up her final visit in a few words.

“Have you ever taught Evangeline Finn?” She managed, hating how destroyed she sounded even to her own ears.

Dorian barely managed to cover his wince.

“Ah,” He sighed. “You met Archer Finn. How bad was it?”

She looked at the floor, holding back the flood that wanted to break through, she refused to cry in school over a parent, no matter how much he had riled her up.

“Bad,” She managed but her voice betrayed her, letting a crack rip through the word.

Dorian was around the desk and at her side within a second, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“What did he say?” Dorian asked, his tone gentle as if not to startle her.

Aelin sniffed. “Oh you know, the usual, dismissing my teaching and belittling my degree.”

She let out a self-deprecating laugh as she looked to Dorian whose brow creased at her words.

“Don’t listen to him. You know he’s not right.” She knew his words were earnest, but they couldn’t keep the doubt at bay and she shrugged out of his hold.

“I don’t know,” She looked away.

“Come on,” Dorian tried. “Let’s get a drink or something, take your mind off it.”

“Thanks, Dorian. But I think I just want to go home and be alone.”

Dorian’s mouth twisted as he considered it, probably weighing up whether or not to try again. Eventually he relented.

“Text me if you need anything, okay? I’m here for you.”

She lightly squeezed his hand before rising to pack up her things. His offer hadn’t tempted her, she did want to be alone, but maybe a drink wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

------

The bar was relatively busy, a few customers every so often had him drifting in and out of conversation with Aedion. Lorcan had joined Aedion at the bar not long after they arrived, grumbling about something or other that Rowan soon avoided, turning back to another customer after dropping off Lorcan’s pint.

A brief lull allowed him to drift back to his friends, wiping down a few spills along the bar as he went.

“It’s the fucking worst, all right.” The dark-haired giant complained, words muffled by the strong hand he ran down his face.

Rowan turned to Aedion for explanation who merely shrugged before lifting his empty glass to Rowan. He grabbed it and turned to refill it as Lorcan spoke again.

“I didn’t sign up for any of this, stupid regulations and reforms.”

Lorcan was clearly in a talking mood tonight. Rowan met Aedion’s eyes, a silent challenge, begging the blond man to speak first but Aedion just leaned back in his seat, taking a large gulp of his beer. Rowan flicked him the middle finger before turning to Lorcan.

“What is?”

Lorcan turned the force of his glare to Rowan who shifted against the unexpected heat.

“My stupid boss.”

“What about them?” Aedion finally joined in.

Lorcan sighed, a frustrated sound as if explaining it would be hard work. Rowan grinned a sharp flash of teeth at Aedion who rolled his eyes at their friend’s dramatics.

“I don’t want to talk about it. I want to drink.” Lorcan finished his drink in a final swig, placing the glass before Rowan ceremoniously.

Rowan scooped it up, sketching a mocking salute at his friend. “That, we can do.”

As he turned he spotted Fenrys making his way over from the door and he grabbed another glass to fill as the golden-haired man took his seat. He dumped the drinks in front of his friends with little finesse as Fenrys spoke.

“Why is Aelin sitting in the corner on her own?”

Aelin?

“Aelin’s here?” Aedion asked as the four of them turned to look where Fenrys had pointed.

Sure enough, Aelin was tucked away in a booth in the corner of the room. He hadn’t noticed her come in and Rowan could see the glum expression on her face even from a distance.

“Is she okay?” He managed.

“She doesn’t look okay.”

The three of them swivelled to look at Lorcan, matching looks of disbelief across each of their faces.

“Has she said anything to any of you?” Fenrys asked. “Anything to Lysandra?” With a look to Aedion who shook his head.

“Should we go over?” Aedion asked, an unsure twist to his mouth.

“If she wanted to sit with us she’d be here.” Lorcan said bluntly.

“Shut up, asshole.” Rowan narrowed his eyes. “I’ll take her a drink.”

-------

The glass of wine was cool in his hand as he made his way across the bar, skirting round tables of customers as he went.

“Hey,” His voice was soft as he reached Aelin’s booth, lingering by the edge of the table as she looked up at him.

His heart jolted at the expression she wore. Her beautiful blue eyes were wide and red-rimmed, her plush pink lips twisted into a pout. She swallowed before speaking and the hurt in her voice tore his heart again.

“Oh. Didn’t think you’d notice me here.” Her voice was quiet as he dropped into the seat opposite her and pushed the glass towards her.

“It’s kind of my job to notice who needs a drink,” He said equally quietly, leaning forwards and pressing his arms against the table between them. He had hoped his words would bring a smile but Aelin pursed her lips, debating, before reaching towards the glass and taking a sip.

At least there was that.

“You don’t-- I mean, you don’t have to answer... If you don’t want to, but,” He didn’t usually stumble over his words so much. “Are you okay?”

Aelin’s refusal to meet his eyes pretty much answered his question, but he still waited for her to speak.

She blew out a breath, the air teasing the fair strands of hair around her face as she looked towards the ceiling then back down to him.

“Not really.” She said as she looked away from him again.

He spared a glance over to the bar where his friends sat, watching him and Aelin, each with expressions of concern. Even Lorcan for all his grumbling before Rowan came over.

“What happened?” He asked as gently as he could.

Aelin took a sip of her wine, glancing around the bar and spotting their friends who quickly jumped back into their own conversation before resting her gaze back on him.

She shrugged, putting her glass back on the table before speaking.

“One of my student’s parents basically told me I’m a shit teacher today.”

“Aelin no,” The words left him in a rush, utterly raw in his desperation to reassure her. “Aelin, you have to know you’re not a shit teacher.”

She looked up at him through her eyelashes, her pout still standing strong.

“What did they say?”

“Just that my degree is worthless and that I don’t know what’s best for the kids.”

Asshole. Fucking asshole.

If he ever saw the asshole who had said those cruel words to Aelin he’d-- He didn’t know what he’d do but it would hurt.

“Aelin, don’t listen to them. That’s not true.”

“It’s not?” Her question, in combination with her soft sniffle shattered him.

He reached out to lightly grasp one of her hands in his, gently toying with her delicate fingers.

“Of course not Aelin. You’re an incredible teacher.”

She drew her hand back to take another sip of her wine.

“How would you know?” She asked. “You’ve never seen me teach.”

“I don’t need to Aelin. I know you, and you’re everything a good teacher should be. Kind, caring, patient, passionate-”

“Okay,” She interrupted.

“I’m serious Aelin, promise me you won’t believe a word that asshole said.”

She scoffed, looking away from him yet again.

“Aelin?”

“Okay, I promise.” Her tone was resigned, but at least she had agreed. He didn’t know how much help he had managed to be, but he hoped at least a small part of her had listened.

“What are you doing sitting alone anyway? You can always come to us with things like this.” He knew without a doubt that the others would agree.

She brushed a strand of hair away from her face, and Rowan’s fingers itched to follow the motion but he held his hands together, now under the table. She shrugged as a faint blush crossed her cheeks and Rowan fought the warmth blooming inside him at the sight.

“Come and drink with us.” He said, nodding his head towards where the others were sitting at the bar. “Salvaterre’s miserable too so you won’t be alone.”

At that, Aelin’s lips twitched as the hint of a smile ghosted across her face, it was the closest he had seen all night and he’d take it.

“Why?” Her voice was quiet.

“Other than the usual?” He joked and she finally cracked a real smile, small but still there, and the relief that flooded through him was like lightning. “I think it’s something about his work or his boss, I don’t really know.”

He slid himself out of the booth and held a hand out to her, his final request, if she really didn’t want to join them he could accept that, but he knew he’d still keep an eye on her for the rest of the night.

Thankfully she stood, grabbing her things and leading the way over to their friends, and he sent a silent prayer of thanks to the gods. Over her head he saw Aedion flash him a thankful smile. She flopped onto a stool next to Fenrys as Rowan slid back behind the bar.

“So,” She turned to Lorcan, barely missing a beat. “What are you crying about now?”

Lorcan didn’t hesitate before lunging into his story, his own subtle way of making sure Aelin was alright and not dwelling on her issues.

“My new boss is an asshole. Turns up in Rifthold fresh out of headquarters in somewhere called Perranth, and thinks everyone should just bow down or something. Now, first of all, I’ve never even heard of Perranth,” He paused to take a bitter swig of his beer.

“Me neither,” Fenrys chimed in.

“It’s in Terrasen,” Aelin said after a sip of her own wine. The heaviness from before didn’t weigh on her face anymore and Rowan turned to serve another customer, hiding his smile. “I think I went once when I was a kid.”

Lorcan frowned at her but Rowan could tell it lacked it’s usual heat.

“Whatever,” Lorcan continued. “The point is, I’ve worked here for years, I know Rifthold and how things are done. Captain Lochan has been here all of five minutes and apparently knows all the improvements we need to make.”

The curl of Lorcan’s lips as he hissed his boss’ name prompted a small laugh, the guy must be a total hardass to have Lorcan so riled.

“What’s wrong with the improvements?” Aelin asked and Lorcan sighed.

“Nothing is wrong with the improvements,” He muttered and Aelin finally laughed, the tinkling sound washing over Rowan and settling into his bones.

“So what’s the problem?” Aedion asked after a moment, the question that they were all thinking and Lorcan shot him a glare, this time not lacking any heat.

“The problem is the Captain. So controlling and everything has to be done in exactly their way, constantly on me about my reports as well.” He rolled his eyes, clearly over talking about his boss and Rowan couldn't help from poking the bear one last time.

“Why don’t you invite the Captain here? I don’t know any problem a free beer couldn’t solve.”

“Absolutely not.” Lorcan said, shaking his head.

“Well I, for one, want to meet the famous Captain Lochan.” Fenrys grinned. “Especially if it would annoy you so much.”

“Don’t.” Lorcan said, a hair’s width below a growl.

“Why not?” Aedion joined in and Rowan watched the smile settling on Aelin’s lips at their friends’ antics.

He shook himself, laughing along as Lorcan slugged Aedion in the shoulder.

“Maybe find something to take your mind off it?” Fenrys suggested and Rowan knew where he was going would be fun. “Get a pet or something?”

“Just watch me, boyo.” Lorcan bared his teeth around the grin threatening to take over his own face. His pretend displeasure only just winning the battle.

The smile on Aelin’s face struck him again in its beauty, and he forced his attention away from her and back to the idiots now suggesting outlandish animals Lorcan could bring home as a pet.

He bit his lip as Aelin suggested a lion in response to Aedion’s tiger and thanked the gods again that she was smiling.

------

tags:

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@maybekindasortaace

@slytheringalathynius

@http-itsrebecca

@morganofthewildfire

@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato

@fictional-horan

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@sleeping-and-books

@perseusannabeth

@ireallyshouldsleeprn

@superspiritfestival

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@spyofthenightcourt

@jlinez

@queen-of-glass

@booknerdproblems

@sjmships

@elriel4life

@bamchickawowow

@woollycat22

@claralady

@illyrianwitchling

@SHINYA-HIIRAGI

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 4 years

Text

Just A Taste

Characters: Spencer Reid x reader, minor characters

Word Count: 2,925

Warnings: talk of men abusing their female partners (very implicitly), smut, oral (female recieving), fingering, a bit of dom!spencer

request by @theitcaramelchick: Okay but imagine Reid interrogating a suspect and you, an assistant at the BAU office, happen to hear how domineering he is with them and you get all hot and bothered? Jesus. 🥵 And the way he would make the suspect tell him stuff. ...Could you do a one shot with this?

Summary: You assist Spencer with an interrogation despite having no experience with it all. Turns out, there is a reason why Spencer chose you, and it’s not all for work.

Squares Filled: office sex for @cmkinkbingo // free space for @cmbingo

Author’s Note: If you have any requests, please send them in! this is unbeta’d and every mistake is all on me.

Feedback the glue that holds my writing together

Tags at the bottom

For the first time in… ever… you’re going to assist the one and only Dr. Spencer Reid in an interrogation room with a real criminal. You’re only an office assistant, but they wanted you to be in there with him. You know nothing about how to talk to criminals or where to even begin, but they wouldn’t take no for an answer. You don’t even know what you would do in this interview, but you’re not going to question it. This is your chance to prove you belong with the rest of the BAU.

Your dream is to be a profiler that catches bad guys. If you can see how they think during this interrogation, then maybe you can start to work on your own profile. While you’re very nervous to be in this interrogation room, you’re more worried to be in that room with Spencer. It’s not that you’re worried for how bad you might be in front of him, you’re afraid he will figure out your feelings for him. He’s the most talked BAU agent on your floor. He’s so smart, innovated, talented, and very handsome.

His brown eyes can be so soft and caring, but can also turn hard and threatening in a moment’s notice. How he hasn’t landed himself a girlfriend yet is beyond you, but you’re glad he hasn’t. Him being available makes you less guilty for the thoughts you have about him. He’s tall, lean, has curly hair that you really want to tug, and he has a habit of biting and licking those damn lips. He’s definitely been the center of far too many fantasies you relive over and over again.

Your office is one floor below the BAU team. You’re best behind a computer, but you’re trying hard to prove yourself worthy enough to be a profiler. Because you’re great with a computer, your best friend is Penelope. When the team is away, you like to go to her office and hang with her when she’s not assisting her team. You use her to gather intel on the rest of the team, and you’ve learned the following details:

Rossi loves to drink. He has a very impressive collection of old alcohol that he doesn’t really use all that often, but always loves to show off. Hotch loves his son, and would do just about anything for him. One year, Jack dressed up as his father for Halloween. You thought that was the best thing ever. While Emily isn’t on the team anymore, Penlelope does talk about how brave and selfless she is. She’s saved the other teammates in more ways than one.

JJ has been through so much; not only as a mother but as an agent. She’s suffered the most, but she works the hardest. Derek is the muscle of the team, and Penelope has said some raunchy stuff that you’d rather not repeat. Last, but certainly not least, Spencer. He’s had a kind of serious girlfriend, Maeve, but she ended up dying right in front of him. He’s been through a lot as well, but he won’t ever give up on helping people. He’s really great with kids, and he is definitely husband material. Even Penelope is surprised how Spencer hasn’t settled down by now.

Fine by you, as long as you get a piece of him at some point.

It’s hard to put yourself out there for a man like him because if he somehow rejected you, then you won’t be able to recover from that. You don’t want to be one of those women who centers her world around some guy, but Spencer is just so special that you wouldn’t bounce back by a rejection from him. You’ve voiced your thoughts and opinions to Penelope, and as far as you know, she’s kept all those opinions to herself.

Now you have to work with the guy you are already nervous to be around. No one told you why they wanted you in there with him, but it’s not like you’re going to complain. You head up to the floor above you where Spencer is waiting for you. Once he sees you, he heads over to you. Your heart pounds just a bit faster, and your breath comes out a bit shakier. You try to keep your complexion the same color, but you know you’ve revealed how pink they are.

“Are you okay? Do you need a minute?” he asks.

“What do you mean?”

“Your cheeks are flushed. Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. I’m just a bit nervous. I’ve never done anything like this before. I don’t know why I’m even here,” you chuckle nervously.

“You’re going to be fine. I promise.”

“Why am I here, Spencer?”

“I asked for you.”

He leaves your side without another word, and you follow him to the interrogation room. The unsub they caught, Frank Bishop, sits inside the room silently. From what you’ve heard about this guy, he’s killed half a dozen men. The BAU doesn’t know where he’s buried them, and they have to get him to confess to their murders as well as their locations. You’ve seen some terrible people, but he is on your radar.

First and foremost, this man is accused of killing men who were physically and emotionally abusive towards their wives or girlfriends. He sees himself as some sort of God or savoir in the eyes of these women. Not that you agree with his method, but these women aren’t suffering anymore. You’re actually nervous to talk to a man like him because of the person you are.

Yes, you’re a submissive. Everyone who meets you knows this. You don’t broadcast it, but it’s all in the way you present yourself. You’re also showing signs of nervousness, you rarely say no to people in fear of what they would do to you if you did, and all your friends are dominants. They just embrace life and want you to do the same. You’ve done some stupid shit in your day because of them, but your life wouldn’t be what it is now if you didn’t have them in your life.

Spencer gives you one last look before entering the room. Frank’s head pops up, and he straightens when he sees you. He must have seen the way you’re presenting yourself because he can’t take his eyes off you.

“Don’t look at her, look at me. Tell me where you buried those five men,” Spencer demands.

Seeing him like this is putting you back into your late night fantasies. One thing you never considered is the way he is with hardened criminals. He can get so threatening that sends a heat sparking up your core. You push your thighs together to relieve some tension, and you cross your arms loosely.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. What five men?” he asks and smiles at you.

The way he smiles makes you nervous, and you begin to bounce your leg aimlessly. Frank likes how nervous you are, so you try to keep it under control.

"Don't waste my time here. Where are they?" Spencer asks again.

The man doesn't answer. All he does is stare at you. Your leg bounces faster so that's the only thing you can hear besides the ticking of the clock in the room.

"Stop bouncing your leg," Spencer demands.

He puts his hand on your thigh to stop you himself and that doesn't go unnoticed by Frank. You immediately stop what you're doing and look at Spencer with wide eyes. Once he knows you won't do it again, he takes his hand away.

You wish he hadn't.

"We know you stalked and killed men who abused their partners. They'd be somewhere where you can visit and continue their humiliation. You wouldn't want a proper burial for them, would you?"

"I didn't kill anyone else besides Jack Harmer."

"Yeah, that's because we caught you in the act. We know you did it. We found traces of your DNA in their houses."

"Doesn't mean I killed them."

The tension in the room thickens, and you feel trapped. You can't go anywhere, you haven't said a single word since you got here, and all Frank has done is stare at you. You'd leave, but you're afraid Spencer is just going to yell at you. You knew he wouldn't, but your anxiety doesn't know that. Because you feel trapped, you result in biting your nails. It's one of the things you do when you don't know what to do. However, as soon as you put your thumb between your teeth, Spencer swats your hand away.

"Don't bite your nails," he orders.

Why is he being like this? He is never this aggressive towards people—or that's what Penelope told you.

"Why don't you let her do what she wants?" Frank asks.

"Is that what you told Jason Hurley, Jared Bush, Harold Jenkins, Bailey Pickett, and Cody Campbell?"

"Who?" Frank smirks.

You shrink back into your seat because this interrogation can literally take a number of turns. Spencer looks at you with fire in his eyes, and you actually became scared at the thought of what he might do to you.

"Sit up straight. We're in a goddamn interrogation. If you can't handle that, then why are you even here?" he snaps.

Okay, you have no idea why he's treating you like this. Is it all for show, or does he really think he can boss you around like that? Of course, you're not going to say anything to him about it, but that doesn't mean you won't complain to Penny about this.

"Leave her alone! Who do you think you are treating her that way? Jason, Jared, and Harold all thought they could get away with treating their women like that. It's why I threw their bodies in the lake behind my house. Now, don't get me started on Bailey and Cody." Frank blew up.

He confessed to all five murders including revealing where their bodies were located. It wasn't long before you were able to leave. However, you didn't get very far because Spencer was pulling you into the nearest empty office.

"Look, I'm sorry for how I treated you there. Frank looked for men who "bossed" their partners around. I figured if I did that to you, he would reveal where he hid those bodies."

You knew Spencer was one of the good ones.

"You could have just told me. I would have played along."

"Your reaction needed to be real. I chose you because I know you're a submissive. I needed all of it to be real."

"How did you know that?"

"Besides how you acted today... Penelope told me."

"She what?"

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. Though, that's the other reason why I picked you."

"Which is?"

You meant to say that accusingly, but it came out in a breathy whisper.

"You're attracted to me. I need that attraction to be real," he reveals. You want to deny it, but your brain just isn't cooperating. So, he continues when he sees you wanting to deny it. "I knew it was true when you came up this morning. I asked you if you were okay because your cheeks were pink. They were like that because of me. I'm sure your heart started pumping as well. The next sign was in the interrogation room. You were rubbing your thighs together because of me. Should I continue?"

Goddamn, the man really knew how to sweet talk you. You could deny it, but what would the point be? He already knows your feelings. The other option is to come clean and hope he doesn't reject you.

"What are you going to do if what you said is true?” you wonder.

He takes three large steps toward you, and you, purely out of intimidation, take five much smaller steps back. Your back hits the wall next to the door, and you realize you trapped yourself. He places one hand on the wall next to yours and with the other, he locks the office. He leans down so that his mouth is right next to your ear.

"If it were true, I'd get down on my knees, yank that unbelievably tight skirt down your legs, and bury my tongue in you," he whispers.

Shit. Did he really just say that to you? Your panties are so wet right now, and it's all because of the man right in front of you.

"Hmm? Would you like that?" he asks as he tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear. You can't help but nod slightly. He's taken your ability to talk. "That's my girl."

You could have come right there, but you really want to know what his tongue feels like inside you. He presses his lips on your neck and gives a few kisses. He has you exactly where he wants you. You are his and he knows it.

"Remember, we are at work. Be a good girl and don't make a sound," he whispers before dropping to his knees.

Holy shit, this is exactly what you pictured in your fantasies. Now, you're getting the real thing. His hands grip your waist, digging his fingers into your skin. You know bruises are going to show up even through the couple layers of clothing. He gives you a questioning look as if to ask if this is alright. You just nod once, and he gets to work.

He slides down both your skirt and panties until they are on the floor. He keeps your heels on, and you make a mental note that he likes heels. He rests one leg over his shoulder, and he presses light kisses to your inner thighs. It didn't occur to you that you're exposing yourself to him for the first time. He has an eidetic memory. If this whole thing doesn't work out, he will have the look, taste, and feel of you embedded into his mind.

The smell of you messes with his mind, and he knows he has to get a taste of you. He gives one kiss to your clit, and you do your best to keep that moan in. Whenever you had sex, it’s always a challenge to stay quiet. You did it, but it always came at a cost. Spencer loves it when a girl moans for him, but not at work where his coworkers and bosses are.

Too much time has passed since he first got a whiff of you. Maybe he can take his time later, but for right now, all he wants is to make you come. From the bottom to the top, he licks one thick stripe up your center. When he sees you dripping with anticipation, he shoves his unbelievably long tongue inside you. You bite your lower lip to keep yourself from screaming out. Spencer looks up through his lashes and swipes his tongue from one wall to the other. The way he's looking at you makes you clench around his wet muscle. You have to get your tension out somehow.

There is finally an opportunity for you to satisfy one of your urges. You reach down and grab a fistful of his curly hair. You tug, and he moans. The vibration sends ripples through your body, and you give another hard tug. Your head bangs against the wall behind you, but you're too caught up in the moment to care.

He grunts when you give another yank. You file that piece of information in the same place as the heels. He pulls away only to suction his lips around your clit. He doesn't want you to feel empty, so he slides in two very long fingers.

“Shit! Spencer!” you hiss.

That response only makes him suck harder. You tighten around his fingers, making it almost impossible for him to remove them. He keeps his fingers right where they are and wiggles them so that he's hitting places not even you knew you had.

"I'm close! Fuck!"

Without going too hard, he nibbles on your clit with his teeth. The stimulation, combined with what his fingers are doing, is enough to push you over the edge. Your orgasm washes over you just as your come spills over his fingers. He pulls away and sticks them in his mouth. He sucks your juices from them before diving in once more. You're very sensitive from the first orgasm, so you twitch away from him. However, he grips your hips to hold you in place. He licks you clean until there is no more evidence lingering.

Once he finishes, he sets your leg down and redresses you. Your legs are wobbly, but you're doing a good job at keeping yourself up. He pushes your hair back to expose your ear, and he leans down to whisper in it.

"I never knew you tasted so sweet. I'm going to have a hard time focusing on work now that I got a taste. Be a good girl for the rest of the day, and I’ll show you what else I'm good for."

He presses a kiss to the side of your neck before leaving the office. Did that really just happen? How can you get through the rest of the day when you've experienced how well he can work his tongue? Plus, you also won't be able to stop thinking of his proposition. If he's that good with just his mouth. What else will he be good at?

wanna be tagged? add yourself to this document! if your tag doesn’t work, find out why!

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704 notes · View notes

writtenonreceipts · 3 years

Text

The idea of this came quick and haphazardly. I meant to have it ready on thanksgiving, but then didn’t, haha...enjoy a last little slice of thanksgiving fic...

About 2K. Planning on doing a Christmas and/or new years addition with this one too.

Thanks so much for reading!

Friends Like These

Aelin cursed as she stared at the pan of green beans she pulled from her oven. Frowning she glared at the mess of crispy fried onions on top and the edges that were most certainly black instead of golden brown.

“Well this was a terrible idea.”

She didn't even like green bean casserole but Lysandra had insisted they needed green beans of some sort and Aelin was a mess of uncertainty. She wanted to bring an extra chocolate pie but Lys refused that front citing that she had all her pie bases covered.

Aelin did not believe her. For as much as she loved her best friend, Lys did not understand Aelin’s desires for chocolate and pie in general.

Back to the green beans however, Aelin was certain they were burned. Who the hell liked green beans anyways?

“A real, real terrible idea.”

Talking to herself wasn't going to fix anything, so Aelin grabbed her oven mitts and made for the door of her apartment. By some twist of fate and intense insistence, Aelin lived across the hall from her best friend and cousin. Lysandra and Aedion had only been married a few months and they were already intent on being the go-to couple for holidays and other occasions. As long as it meant Aelin didn't have to clean her place, she didn't care.

She left her apartment door open and crossed the hall to Lysandra’s.

"Open up bitch,” she called and kicked the door. Too late did she think that the neighbors would not appreciate her antics. She received far too many looks of exasperation from them anyways.

Despite how much she really didn’t care, she glanced down the hall. Maybe she could ditch this poorly made casserole on some unsuspecting soul. As she glanced down towards the elevators, she caught sight of a ridiculously good-looking man coming up the hall and he had most definitely heard her.

His silvery hair was stark compared to his bronze skin and his button up shirt strained against his obvious muscles. Oh he was very attractive. Aelin had quite often found herself fondling over the likes of Rowan Whitethorn.

It was highly unfortunate that he was already here, considering Aelin was still in yoga pants and an oversized cardigan stained with bleach from a misadventure in cleaning. Not to mention her hair was a failing top knot and she hadn’t even put on a coat of chapstick today. Oh hell, she was most definitely staring at him.

“Galathynius,” Rowan said, giving her a long, penetrating look. His generous mouth tilted into something akin to a sneer.

“Whitehorn,” she replied. She prided herself at least on the fact that she managed not to lick her lips while checking him out. Because holy hell it should be illegal for him to look so well put together. She wasn’t sure if she preferred him in this almost professional style as compared to the dark grunge that he was usually found in. Or both. Definitely both.

Aelin was saved from saying or doing anything else as Lysandra opened the door to her apartment.

“You actually brought something other than chocolate,” Lysandra said with an amused sort of expression

“Bite me,” Aelin snapped and swerved past into the apartment.

She missed whatever Lysandra said to Rowan, but it was clearly filled with more love and appreciation than what was extended to Aelin.

Aelin entered the kitchen and was immediately greeted by the scents of cooking turkey, stuffing, and rolls. It was wonderful. She stuck her still hot pan on the edge of the counter while she dug out another hotpad from where Lysandra usually kept them.

Aedion was busy setting things up in the small living room where he’d dragged out their table and an extra foldable one. It looked like there were far more place settings than Aelin had been expecting.

“Hey Aelin,” Aedion said as he settled a floral arrangement on the table. It was a cheapish plastic one—but it reminded Aelin of years growing up with him and tossing the abused decoration around the table to use it as a means of hiding from Aunt Maeve.

“Hey, where d’you want this,” she asked, holding up the green beans.

“Wherever should be good,” Aedion said with a shrug. He looked the pan over and frowned. “You burned the green beans?”

“No one even likes green beans Ashryver,” Aelin fired back. She slapped down the hotpad and the casserole and tried to pretend she didn’t care.

Truth was, she’d actually tried on the casserole. But she wouldn’t admit that. It would just make the end product all the more pathetic.

“Thanks so much for bringing pie, Rowan,” Lysandra was saying from the kitchen. “I tried asking Lorcan, but he was staunchly against it.”

“Nah, the bastard would never make such a commitment,” Rowan. Aelin glanced at him to see a crooked smile that did not help her feel any better about herself. “He will bring plenty of booze though.”

“At least he’s good for something,” Lysandra laughed. Her laugh was short lived though as she looked between Aelin and Rowan. It was no secret the two had nothing short of a hostile relationship. No matter how long their friend groups had been integrated for—they always found a way to be at each other’s throats.

Lysandra took the bag of pie from Rowan and smiled gratefully. “Also, I appreciate everything you’ve done in the shop, too. I don’t know what I wouldn’t do without the help.”

Just across the street, Lysandra was opening a clothing boutique that would hopefully expand into a makeup and hair styling salon as well. While Aedion was finishing his law degree and working full time in an apprenticeship, Lysandra had bitten the bullet to fulfill her dream of owning her own business. Even if it was a slightly inconvenient time to be an entrepreneur. Aelin couldn’t have been prouder of her best friend.

“Oh, until everyone else gets here, Rowan can help you move that dresser Aelin,” Lysandra said suddenly. Aelin froze in a sudden wave of panic. “She’s getting rid of that tiny little dresser she has and got a new one. You’ve been complaining about it all week.”

Rolling her eyes, Aelin brushed a few loose bits of hair from her forehead. “It hasn’t been all week.”

“Right, just the hours we’ve been together,” Lysandra said with an ironic sort of expression. In truth, the two had spent nearly every waking minute together in the hopes of getting the shop ready to open.

Scowling, Aelin made her way back to the door of the apartment. “Can’t believe you married her Aedion. C’mon, buzzard. I need help, apparently.”

“You can’t move a damn dresser by yourself?” Rowan groused. But he followed after her, shooting irritated looks over his shoulder no doubt.

“Be nice to each other!” Aedion called after. “It’s Thanksgiving.”

The door closed softly behind them. The hall was silent as they crossed the short distance to Aelin’s place. She was muttering under her breath the entire time about how annoying it was to have him in her apartment.

As soon as they entered Aelin’s apartment, Fleetfoot was on them. The dog, despite loving her mother to no end, went to Rowan with an excited flap of her tail. Rowan glared down at Fleetfoot in exasperation.

“Don’t you give your dog any attention?” He asked.

Aelin gave him the finger over her shoulder as she went to her room. “Get your ass in here and help me.”

Rowan cursed under his breath and followed. “Why do you need a new dresser anyways. The old one was fine.”

“Well someone told me it was too small. And someone said that how could a substantial amount of clothing even fit in the drawers I had. And that same someone told me that something had to change.” She leaned against her bedroom door and glared at him. “And that, dumbass, was you. So now I have a giant dresser that I don’t know what to do with. So really, this is all your fault.”

Rowan quirked a brow and looked down at her, but he said nothing.

For the past three months since Rowan had begun helping Lysandra in her shop, the two had started something. Something that neither knew how to define or explain. It involved quite a bit of kissing, sex, and staying over at one another’s apartments. And no one else in their friend group knew.

The previous week Rowan had made a comment about never having enough space for his things in Aelin’s place which had resulted in an uncomfortable conversation of defining what it was exactly they were doing together. It promptly led to ignored texts and phone calls.

“You got a new dresser,” Rowan said, finally.

Aelin dropped her eyes from his and turned slightly so she was leaning against the wall instead of the doorjamb. She looked into her room where the new dresser was standing at an awkward angle. She hadn’t quite known what to do with it so she’d left it half up against one wall and half blocking her closet. Rowan wasn’t supposed to find out about the dresser this way. Mostly because she didn’t want for it to be a big deal, even though it was...they’d danced around the idea of each other and being more than friends with benefits for so long that this—giving up space and a little bit of independence was huge.

Especially for Aelin.

“I just wanted some more space,” she said dismissively.

Rowan’s eyes were still on her. She could feel them burning into her. If she looked at him now, she was certain she would combust. There was always something about Rowan that made her feel different. That made her feel complete. It was strange to say. Especially after being on her own for so long. But being with him, even for the few short months, had given her a new sense of purpose and self that Aelin had never had before.

“More space?” Rowan asked, stepping closer to her.

Aelin chewed on her bottom lip and finally looked up. “Less space?”

Rowan grinned down at her, his body heat completely enveloping her as he pulled her to him.

Aelin went willingly, wrapping her arms around him and clinging to him tightly. It was slightly embarrassing how much she’d missed him. Even in this one week of being apart and not even texting had been unbearable.

With gentle hands, Rowan cupped her face and ran his calloused fingers over her cheeks. The feel of it caused Aelin to shiver and immediately want to burrow into him again. Rowan had other plans as he tilted her chin up and captured her lips with his.

Sighing happily, Aelin melted into his touch. She curled her fingers in his hair and pressed herself harder against him. Every other plan for the day went right out her head. None of it mattered when he was so close.

A loud knock sounded on the front door and Fenrys’ voice called out from the kitchen. “Have you two killed each other or what? Come on! Turkey’s getting cold.”

“We’re coming,” Rowan called out as Aelin pressed her lips into his neck, in part to suppress her grin and also because she wasn’t ready to let him go. “Galathynius can’t make up her mind.”

Aelin nipped at his skin with her teeth and his hands tightened on her hips.

“Finish after turkey, I didn’t spend all morning making yams for them to go to waste,” Fenrys yelled back. The front door slammed shut as he left.

Aelin couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped her as she kissed her way back to Rowan’s lips. “I don’t want to go.”

Rowan pressed his forehead against hers, breath slightly uneven. “Unless you want to tell everyone about us.”

Shaking her head, Aelin sighed. “I’m not ready to share you.”

She of course already did share him with everyone, but Rowan seemed to grasp the underlying meaning of her words as he captured her mouth once more. The kiss was hot and deep and Aelin was ready to lock the door to her apartment and feign death or illness if it meant she could spend the day wrapped up in Rowan.

“Fireheart,” he whispered.

“Buzzard,” she replied.

He smiled against her lips before pulling back and running his thumb over her cheek. “Beautiful.”

“I look like hell,” she complained.

Rowan shook his head. “Beautiful,” he repeated before regretfully pulling away.

Aelin sighed before running her hands down his chest and interlocking he fingers with his, just for a moment.

“Stay the night?” she asked quietly.

Rowan rolled his eyes. “You just need help with that dresser.”

“True,” she admitted, “but I also missed you.”

Rowan nodded once before giving her a quick, chaste kiss. “C’mon or else we’ll really have to tell everyone about us.”

Sighing, Aelin pulled away completely. She left her room and made sure Fleetfoot was settled on the couch, and episode of “The Office” playing on the tv to keep the dog company.

Before they let her apartment, she looked back at Rowan with a determined gleam in her eyes. “Soon.”

“Soon,” Rowan agreed.

And they went back to being somewhat tolerable friends.

thanks for reading dears, i so appreciate the support and comments and everything!

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@tottenhamboys20 @morganofthewildfire @aelinchocolatelover @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx @bamchickawowow

#aelin and rowan #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin au #rowaelin #rowaelin fanfic #throne of glass #the fanfic no one asked for continues #aelin galathynius

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