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ettawritesnstudies · 1 year

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sts! What’s your favorite non plot related fact about the world of runaways?

Thanks for the ask!

I think my favorite thing is the fact that the girl's home has a house brownie that cleans their rooms for them named Hazel. She never appears in the plot of the story but that's a reference I threw in for my little brother. He got some pretty bad burns when he was 6 and had to stay in a hospital for several weeks while we had to go home and keep doing school, so in between visits, I would write and send him short stories to keep him entertained during his treatments - and these were called "The Brownie and the Ghost". They were about these two kids, Dan and Nan, who meet their house brownie and help her catch a ghost that keeps eating her cookies, and in that story, the brownie's name was Hazel.

Jump ahead 4 years. Before I ever decided to write Runaways as a book, I just had a bunch of characters in a notes app on my phone. I persuaded my little brother and sister to help me pull weeds in the garden in exchange for a story if they would help, and I started making up the plot of Runaways on the spot as we were working through the tomatoes. I could tell they were getting bored so, so I through Hazel into the new story as a reference to the old one they loved, and they got all excited about the worlds being tied together. Hazel's made it through every draft since as a throwaway line, specifically for my siblings.

#my brother is ok now for the record #the burns were bad but he had really good medical care and our community really helped us out with the hospital bills #so he's a totally normal kid now and you can barely tell he has scars unless you look closely #he's not even afraid of campfires I'm so proud of him #he is more careful around them though lol #every time I catch them stealing biscotti from the cookie tin I yell DON'T MAKE ME GET OUT THE GHOST TRAPS it's such a fun inside joke #etta rambles #runaways #sts #I do plan to go back and clean up those stories one day and make the vocabulary childhood appropriate #they were a lot of fun I had like 8 or 10 of them by the end #there was a halloween special where ghost and a bunch of other friends like the spooky cat and mothman teamed up to prank hazel #there was a christmas special where hazel's extended relatives turned out to be santa's elves and nan and dan had to help save christmas #there was a st. patricks day special where hazel's 2nd cousin came to visit and he was a leprechaun #it was a vibe #hazel my long suffering sweetheart <3

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sacredglitch · 1 year

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SARI NO YOU'RE GIVING HIM PTSD-

OH DEAR GOD

#tfa rewatch #bless sari she's doing her best also in the spooks #she doesn't know any better nor anything about his past so #she just figures "Oh the great Optimus is a lil freaked by these creatures #perfect for halloween'' like...bless but also no #he's already got issues #everyone on this team does who am I kidding #ease up on him with the spookies otherwise I'm gonna have to witness more Emo Pax #tfa optimus prime #tfa sari

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teamhalloweenkids · 7 months

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Iris having fun working at the Haunted house in Atown

#thk #teamhalloweenkids #halloween #horror #team halloween kids #clown #haunted #haunted house #spooky #spooktober #haunts #aurora #Illinois #captains gf

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escapetimemd · 7 months

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#escapetime #annapolis #easton #escapetimemd #maryland #severna park #escape rooms for teams #escape room for all ages #gift #new room #christmas gift #games #halloween #adult escape rooms #kids room #escape rooms for kids #escaperoommaryland #adventures

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strawbeerossi · 7 months

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Baby Fever

Pairing: Wife!Reader x Husband!Spencer

Description: After seeing Henry and Spencer interact after the little boy wears an adorable Halloween costume, you know what you want from your husband more than anything else

Content/Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy and wanting to be pregnant, kissing, unprotective sex, penetrative sex, creampie, some cute banter.

Word Count: 2K

Kinktober Day Ten: Breeding

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

It was currently Halloween, the team getting back from the case just a few short hours ago. You and Spencer had plans to go get something for dinner and then make your way home for a night filled with spooky movies and a bowl filled with candy that neither of you needed. Everyone was currently wrapping up what little bit that needed to be done when JJ was coming back into the bullpen, a wide smile on her face. “Attention everybody. As I’m sure most of you were aware, Henry was a little nervous about going trick or treating this year.” She’d clasped her hands together with a smile as the team was looking between each other in curiosity. “But he’s decided to go anyway.” She’d finished, David smiling. “Great. What changed his mind?”

“The BAU did. I told him that he should go out on Halloween and try to figure out which monsters are real and which ones are not.” She mused. “So he wants to be a profiler.” Derek smiled, hands in his pockets while JJ put her hand up. “Ah. He wants to be his favorite profiler.” She corrected while everyone was glancing at the open door of the bullpen when Penelope was bringing in a mini Spencer.

Henry’s costume idea was precious, you had to admit it. The whole idea of him being a profiler would be fun for him, however being a little Spencer?! You never thought you needed to see it this badly until you did. “Woah! Yeah! Oh wow, You look great, Henry!” Spencer was shooting up from his spot with a wide smile from excitement, the way his eyes had a little sparkle in them was enough to make you start to wonder.

Sure, you’d talked about children with your husband before, the both of you wanting a sweet little family in a sweet little suburb. However you never really put too much thought into it before now. Seeing Spencer excitedly kneel down to clip his nametag to Henry’s shirt and watching him get teary eyed in his admiration for his god son, this was all you needed to know that you were for sure ready for the next step.

After seeing the little boy off, the team was wrapping up their activities before everyone was making their way out of the building, leaving you and Spencer to go pick up something for dinner then you two decided on going home. Upon making it, you were in the kitchen of your shared apartment while putting the takeout meals on plates, Spencer trying to find some sort of Halloween movie to put on for your little tradition of festivities to begin.

“Hey, Spencer.” You break the silence while carrying the plates to place them on the coffee table perched in front of the couch with other numerous treats. “I was thinking.. We wanted to wait a couple years for kids and.. We have been married for three years, child free.” You brought it up the only way you know how. “I guess what I’m saying is, I think we should start trying! I mean, you and Henry were so sweet today and it really got me thinking about more. What we don’t have yet.”

Spencer had turned his attention towards you, a soft smile on his face as he let you initiate conversation. However as soon as you were mentioning kids, it was like his eyes lit up, body shooting up straighter. “You really wanna start trying? I’ve been wanting to since the day we got married but I know we agreed to wait.” He laughed a bit while offering a wide smile. “I’d love to have a baby with you, honey. More than anything else.”

His excitement filled you with relief, a smile matching his as you were letting your arms wrap around his shoulders. “Let's do it then! I mean, we are both financially stable and we are secure together. Let's bring a little Reid into the world.” You gushed. You were both cut off by the sound of Spencer’s stomach rumbling though, making the both of you giggle. “Maybe after dinner.” He teased, pressing a few soft kisses against your lips.

You didn’t think you’ve ever gone through dinner so quickly in your life, the both of you doing good to clean up your dishes before Spencer was already attacking you in his embrace in the kitchen, the both of you sharing kisses while standing in place. “Bed please.” You murmured while smiling as he obliged, grabbing your hand with a smile as he quickly led you off to your shared bedroom.

There was without a missed beat, Spencer was easily lifting you in his arms before pressing his lips against yours, one that radiated pure love and care, his hands resting under your thighs as you were carried to the king size bed. Once on your back, you were bringing your hands to cup his cheeks while you were both lying in bed, tangled in one another’s embrace. “I love you so much.” His words were like sweet honey.

“I love you so much.” The both of you parted briefly, Spencer moving to rest his hands on your hips, fingertips slipping slowly up your blouse as he was gently pushing it up your frame. His lips were pressing the sweetest of kisses against your warm skin, the both of you working together as you tugged the garment over your head.

His onslaught of pressing kisses against your skin trailing to your chest, his hands reaching behind you to remove your bra with the utmost care. His tongue was licking over your hardened nipple, a soft breath falling from your lips as you let your hands tangle in his hair.

Spencer liked to take his time with you, hardly ever having days where he needed to get it over and done with. He preferred to savor the moment, to enjoy the intimacy that came with the act. As his lips were wrapping around the nub, he was taking his time to suck and flick his tongue, satisfied with the noises leaving your lips. After moving to switch breasts, his free hand was sliding down your stomach. You could feel all the heat rush between your legs as you knew exactly what was coming next. His hand had slipped past your pants and the waistband of your panties, hand cupping your wet pussy as he slowly lifted his head from your chest. “My pretty girl.” He whispered, your hands gently pulling him down to connect your lips while his hand was cupping your clothed cunt, feeling the heat of your arousal.

He loved having this effect on you, the way that he could satisfy you and get you revved up by the smallest of touches. His eidetic memory worked out really well in that case, he memorized every curve and dip of your body, every touch that made you crave him more.

His fingertip was teasing your slit, spreading around the slick before finding your clit. You knew that he wanted to take his time and play the long game but if you were honest, you were so desperate.

“Please, Spencer..” You breathed while watching as he offered a soft smile. “You really wanna skip the foreplay?” He’d asked. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t bummed, wanting nothing more than to taste you, to drink up every ounce of sweetness that you had to offer him.

“As much as I love when you take your time and cherish me, I just need you now.” If you were honest, you were just excited for the aspect to feel that familiar closeness. Spencer didn’t argue in the slightest, hand gently moving from your panties before he was sitting up slightly to tug your pants and underwear down in one swift movement, a smile on his face as he was stripping you bare for him. No matter how many times he’s seen you, it was like he’d never seen you before. His cheeks were red as he brought his hands to gently rub your hips.

After a few moments of his eyes taking in the beauty in front of him, he was moving to stand so he could get himself undressed, getting himself naked while clumsily nearly falling on the bed when it came to his pants and boxers. It was silly, like you two were teenagers who finally had an opening to fool around without someone there to stop you both.

His hands were gently taking a hold of your hips, tugging you down to the edge of the bed as he offered a smile. You both had been safe enough before, always having some sort of contraception at the ready. After your body had a bad reaction to the birth control you were on, he’d offered to wear condoms, not wanting to opt for a vasectomy due to his want for children. They could be reversed but he didn’t want to get one just to reverse it later.

“Ready?”

“Let’s make a baby.”

Those words sent blood straight to Spencer’s cock. The idea of you being pregnant with your shared child, a symbol of your love and affection for each other, was a lot to take in. It was like his animalistic urges had started to break through the cracks. Licking the palm of his hand, the male was pumping his throbbing shaft to prepare himself before positioning himself at your leaking hole.

Leaning down to press his lips to yours, it wasn’t long until his cock was disappearing inside of your soaked cunt, the both of you moaning against one another’s lips. Your hands came up to hold tight to his shoulders, pulling from the kiss slowly as you let your head fall back against the bed below you.

Spencer’s hips rocked slowly at first, relishing in your little gasps and whines from the painfully slow pace. “You look so beautiful, always take me so well.” He breathed, hands rubbing your hips, just wanting to touch you more than he already was. The idea of your stomach swollen with his baby was just too much to bear, making his hips snap a little rougher against yours, which managed to catch you by surprise but you gripped his upper arms with a loud moan, head tilting back as the tip of his cock was hitting the spongey button deep inside of you.

“You’re gonna look so sexy with my child inside of you. Gonna show the whole world that you are mine, that you are devoted to me.” The words were enough to elicit a moan besides his thrusts. As you could feel the familiar knot tightening in your stomach, you were gently tugging your husband down to have your chests pressed flush against one anothers. Now you weren’t usually the type to dirty talk but judging by how Spencer seemed to be turned on so much more when it comes to thinking of you being pregnant.

“Fuck, fill me with your cum.” You panted, the words making his cock twitch inside of you as he was letting out an animalistic groan. “Want me to fill you up? Gonna get my pretty girl pregnant.” His tone was huskier now, a sign he was definitely just as close as you were.

Your pussy was convulsing around his thick cock, your head falling back as your mouth was agape. “I’m gonna cum.” You blubbered out, a whine leaving your lips as you could feel his thumb making contact with your throbbing, desperate clit. “Cum for me, baby. Want you to make a mess.” He breathed, giving a few more thrusts before both of you had managed to hit your peaks, the ropes of cum decorating your inner walls while Spencer’s body was collapsing on top of you. It wasn’t enough to crush you, one arm holding him up.

“I’m just gonna.. Stay here for a minute..” He panted while you laughed breathlessly, your fingers gently threading through his hair as you closed your eyes.

“You know, it’s actually very rare to become pregnant from the first time having sex.” He began as he was pushing himself up slightly, his hair stuck to his sticky forehead. “I know.. You know, I feel like you’re gonna have to fuck me again.” You breathed, giggling at his reaction.

“We should’ve tried for a baby sooner.”

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mostlysignssomeportents · 3 months

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I assure you, an AI didn’t write a terrible “George Carlin” routine

There are only TWO MORE DAYS left in the Kickstarter for the audiobook of The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

On Hallowe'en 1974, Ronald Clark O'Bryan murdered his son with poisoned candy. He needed the insurance money, and he knew that Halloween poisonings were rampant, so he figured he'd get away with it. He was wrong:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ronald_Clark_O%27Bryan

The stories of Hallowe'en poisonings were just that – stories. No one was poisoning kids on Hallowe'en – except this monstrous murderer, who mistook rampant scare stories for truth and assumed (incorrectly) that his murder would blend in with the crowd.

Last week, the dudes behind the "comedy" podcast Dudesy released a "George Carlin" comedy special that they claimed had been created, holus bolus, by an AI trained on the comedian's routines. This was a lie. After the Carlin estate sued, the dudes admitted that they had written the (remarkably unfunny) "comedy" special:

https://arstechnica.com/ai/2024/01/george-carlins-heirs-sue-comedy-podcast-over-ai-generated-impression/

As I've written, we're nowhere near the point where an AI can do your job, but we're well past the point where your boss can be suckered into firing you and replacing you with a bot that fails at doing your job:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week

AI systems can do some remarkable party tricks, but there's a huge difference between producing a plausible sentence and a good one. After the initial rush of astonishment, the stench of botshit becomes unmistakable:

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2024/jan/03/botshit-generative-ai-imminent-threat-democracy

Some of this botshit comes from people who are sold a bill of goods: they're convinced that they can make a George Carlin special without any human intervention and when the bot fails, they manufacture their own botshit, assuming they must be bad at prompting the AI.

This is an old technology story: I had a friend who was contracted to livestream a Canadian awards show in the earliest days of the web. They booked in multiple ISDN lines from Bell Canada and set up an impressive Mbone encoding station on the wings of the stage. Only one problem: the ISDNs flaked (this was a common problem with ISDNs!). There was no way to livecast the show.

Nevertheless, my friend's boss's ordered him to go on pretending to livestream the show. They made a big deal of it, with all kinds of cool visualizers showing the progress of this futuristic marvel, which the cameras frequently lingered on, accompanied by overheated narration from the show's hosts.

The weirdest part? The next day, my friend – and many others – heard from satisfied viewers who boasted about how amazing it had been to watch this show on their computers, rather than their TVs. Remember: there had been no stream. These people had just assumed that the problem was on their end – that they had failed to correctly install and configure the multiple browser plugins required. Not wanting to admit their technical incompetence, they instead boasted about how great the show had been. It was the Emperor's New Livestream.

Perhaps that's what happened to the Dudesy bros. But there's another possibility: maybe they were captured by their own imaginations. In "Genesis," an essay in the 2007 collection The Creationists, EL Doctorow (no relation) describes how the ancient Babylonians were so poleaxed by the strange wonder of the story they made up about the origin of the universe that they assumed that it must be true. They themselves weren't nearly imaginative enough to have come up with this super-cool tale, so God must have put it in their minds:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/29/gedankenexperimentwahn/#high-on-your-own-supply

That seems to have been what happened to the Air Force colonel who falsely claimed that a "rogue AI-powered drone" had spontaneously evolved the strategy of killing its operator as a way of clearing the obstacle to its main objective, which was killing the enemy:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/04/ayyyyyy-eyeeeee/

This never happened. It was – in the chagrined colonel's words – a "thought experiment." In other words, this guy – who is the USAF's Chief of AI Test and Operations – was so excited about his own made up story that he forgot it wasn't true and told a whole conference-room full of people that it had actually happened.

Maybe that's what happened with the George Carlinbot 3000: the Dudesy dudes fell in love with their own vision for a fully automated luxury Carlinbot and forgot that they had made it up, so they just cheated, assuming they would eventually be able to make a fully operational Battle Carlinbot.

That's basically the Theranos story: a teenaged "entrepreneur" was convinced that she was just about to produce a seemingly impossible, revolutionary diagnostic machine, so she faked its results, abetted by investors, customers and others who wanted to believe:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Theranos

The thing about stories of AI miracles is that they are peddled by both AI's boosters and its critics. For boosters, the value of these tall tales is obvious: if normies can be convinced that AI is capable of performing miracles, they'll invest in it. They'll even integrate it into their product offerings and then quietly hire legions of humans to pick up the botshit it leaves behind. These abettors can be relied upon to keep the defects in these products a secret, because they'll assume that they've committed an operator error. After all, everyone knows that AI can do anything, so if it's not performing for them, the problem must exist between the keyboard and the chair.

But this would only take AI so far. It's one thing to hear implausible stories of AI's triumph from the people invested in it – but what about when AI's critics repeat those stories? If your boss thinks an AI can do your job, and AI critics are all running around with their hair on fire, shouting about the coming AI jobpocalypse, then maybe the AI really can do your job?

https://locusmag.com/2020/07/cory-doctorow-full-employment/

There's a name for this kind of criticism: "criti-hype," coined by Lee Vinsel, who points to many reasons for its persistence, including the fact that it constitutes an "academic business-model":

https://sts-news.medium.com/youre-doing-it-wrong-notes-on-criticism-and-technology-hype-18b08b4307e5

That's four reasons for AI hype:

to win investors and customers;

to cover customers' and users' embarrassment when the AI doesn't perform;

AI dreamers so high on their own supply that they can't tell truth from fantasy;

A business-model for doomsayers who form an unholy alliance with AI companies by parroting their silliest hype in warning form.

But there's a fifth motivation for criti-hype: to simplify otherwise tedious and complex situations. As Jamie Zawinski writes, this is the motivation behind the obvious lie that the "autonomous cars" on the streets of San Francisco have no driver:

https://www.jwz.org/blog/2024/01/driverless-cars-always-have-a-driver/

GM's Cruise division was forced to shutter its SF operations after one of its "self-driving" cars dragged an injured pedestrian for 20 feet:

https://www.wired.com/story/cruise-robotaxi-self-driving-permit-revoked-california/

One of the widely discussed revelations in the wake of the incident was that Cruise employed 1.5 skilled technical remote overseers for every one of its "self-driving" cars. In other words, they had replaced a single low-waged cab driver with 1.5 higher-paid remote operators.

As Zawinski writes, SFPD is well aware that there's a human being (or more than one human being) responsible for every one of these cars – someone who is formally at fault when the cars injure people or damage property. Nevertheless, SFPD and SFMTA maintain that these cars can't be cited for moving violations because "no one is driving them."

But figuring out who which person is responsible for a moving violation is "complicated and annoying to deal with," so the fiction persists.

(Zawinski notes that even when these people are held responsible, they're a "moral crumple zone" for the company that decided to enroll whole cities in nonconsensual murderbot experiments.)

Automation hype has always involved hidden humans. The most famous of these was the "mechanical Turk" hoax: a supposed chess-playing robot that was just a puppet operated by a concealed human operator wedged awkwardly into its carapace.

This pattern repeats itself through the ages. Thomas Jefferson "replaced his slaves" with dumbwaiters – but of course, dumbwaiters don't replace slaves, they hide slaves:

https://www.stuartmcmillen.com/blog/behind-the-dumbwaiter/

The modern Mechanical Turk – a division of Amazon that employs low-waged "clickworkers," many of them overseas – modernizes the dumbwaiter by hiding low-waged workforces behind a veneer of automation. The MTurk is an abstract "cloud" of human intelligence (the tasks MTurks perform are called "HITs," which stands for "Human Intelligence Tasks").

This is such a truism that techies in India joke that "AI" stands for "absent Indians." Or, to use Jathan Sadowski's wonderful term: "Potemkin AI":

https://reallifemag.com/potemkin-ai/

This Potemkin AI is everywhere you look. When Tesla unveiled its humanoid robot Optimus, they made a big flashy show of it, promising a $20,000 automaton was just on the horizon. They failed to mention that Optimus was just a person in a robot suit:

https://www.siliconrepublic.com/machines/elon-musk-tesla-robot-optimus-ai

Likewise with the famous demo of a "full self-driving" Tesla, which turned out to be a canned fake:

https://www.reuters.com/technology/tesla-video-promoting-self-driving-was-staged-engineer-testifies-2023-01-17/

The most shocking and terrifying and enraging AI demos keep turning out to be "Just A Guy" (in Molly White's excellent parlance):

https://twitter.com/molly0xFFF/status/1751670561606971895

And yet, we keep falling for it. It's no wonder, really: criti-hype rewards so many different people in so many different ways that it truly offers something for everyone.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/29/pay-no-attention/#to-the-little-man-behind-the-curtain

Back the Kickstarter for the audiobook of The Bezzle here!

Image:

Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

Ross Breadmore (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/rossbreadmore/5169298162/

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

#pluralistic #ai #absent indians #mechanical turks #scams #george carlin #comedy #body-snatchers #fraud #theranos #guys in robot suits #criti-hype #machine learning #fake it til you make it #too good to fact-check #mturk #deepfakes

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daydreamingqueen1 · 6 months

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Sweets thief

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

Warnings/Content: none. pure fluff, a wee bit of bullying to spence (totally harmless and friendly though), crushes, unhealthy amount of candy ingestion lol, no y/n, gn!reader too

Summary: You've been stealing sweets from your resident genius.

Word count: 1.2k

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It wasn't unusual for the BAU members to carry snacks with them.

The job was hard, stressful and, most importantly, it had unpredictable hours. So finding time to eat a proper meal wasn't always a viable option.

Nevertheless, eating is a basic human need and even if it's not completely healthy, the agents often found themselves battling their hunger with quick snacks.

As a relatively new member of the BAU, buying said vital snacks wasn't yet ingrained in your mind, resulting in you continually forgetting to buy something to munch on during cases.

Stealing was always an option though.

After several months with your coworkers, you are proud to say that you have managed to eat at the expense of all of their pockets, for experts in human behavior, they don't hide their treats so well.

However, after several months, you have come to know their go-to snacks and, subsequently, you have become picky.

Morgan eats some kind of high-protein bars with an awfully bright neon wrapper.

Emily loves those salt and vinegar chips every station has on their vending machines.

JJ, ever the healthy mom of the group, always has a few packages of oatmeal raisin cookies on hand.

Rossi carries eucalyptus and mint gummies like the old man he is.

And Hotch buys the most bland granola bars known to mankind.

With all of that said, the conclusion was obvious.

Spencer has the best snacks.

It is not only that he always has sweets but that he's the only one that manages for variety instead of a fixed thing. A bit ironic considering he is the most prone to sticking to a rigid routine. Well, you aren't complaining though, especially not this month.

You realized quickly that Halloween was a big thing for the resident genius, seeming to make the grown man regress to the mentality of an overly eager seven-year-old. It's lucky for you because that means that he chooses to try a new candy every single day of October.

It also means that you had begun stealing exclusively from him and, being surrounded by profilers, it wasn't long until you were discovered as the culprit.

A shadow had eclipsed your desk suddenly, making you look up to a squinting Dr. Reid. “Did you take my last Peanut Butter Cup?”

You shook your head, “No...”

Derek snorted on the desk nearby, “You've still got chocolate on your face, kid,”

Cleaning your mouth with the back of your hand, you smiled up at Spencer sweetly.

His converse sounded hard against the floor as he stumped away.

Apparently, you weren't that discreet. He ended up catching you many more times after that.

"Hey!" Spencer swatted your hand when you grabbed yet another handful of his M&Ms.

You shrugged, feigning innocence, “Hey to you too Reid, but we've been in the same room for a while.”

He huffed, inching the box slightly out of your reach.

Many more times.

Your hand was literally inside the familiar size bag of Starburst candy when Spencer came back from the bathroom.

“Oh come on!” he groaned, taking the bag out of your grasp, “Buy your own.”

You went back to the local police station office, giggling to yourself like a child with your hands full of candy.

At this point hunger had become a secondary motive to your stealing. The number one reason being how adorable Spencer's reactions were when he caught you.

In all honesty, you harbored a bit of a crush on the man. You didn't have the courage to tell him upfront, making your silly brain manifest your feelings like a preschooler pulling on the pigtails of their crush. Oh, but teasing him was so fun, and it got you free candy so it was even better.

Then, yesterday, there was an incident.

The team was on the jet, another kidnapped girl had been safely returned to her parents, fairly quickly this time too. Spirits were high at wrapping up a case with such a positive outcome, making most of the agents mingle and play games on the usually quiet ride home.

You were perched on one of the individual seats, scrolling away in your phone and absentmindedly eating some candy (you had bought your own for once).

You jolted a bit when a hand dived into your candy bag. When you looked up, you found a smirking Spencer standing right in front of you, looking fairly smug and popping a piece into his mouth. He thought he was finally getting back at you for eating all of his sweets.

His joy lasted for about three seconds before he realized his mistake.

See, to the untrained eye, he had just eaten a couple of innocent looking bear gummies. Except, these were not regular gummies, they were your favorite kind, the most sour kind.

Spencer's face scrunched up with disgust, the sour effect of the gummy doubled at taking him by surprise, the acidic taste completely taking over his taste buds.

You couldn't help it, you bent over your belly with laughter, inadvertently drawing attention to Spencer's predicament.

The whole team snickered as they watched him rush back and forth on the narrow hall of the jet until he got hold of a tissue to spit the offending candy.

“What the hell is that?” he turned around to confront you.

You gave him an apologetic smile, “Sour candy?”

More laughs filled the space and Spencer had sat down on the furthest chair from yours, pouting with his arms crossed over his chest.

Back to today, you feel actually kind of guilty about what happened. You have been munching on all of Spencer's treats for weeks and the one time he does it to you, the whole team ends up making fun of him. A bit of teasing was fine but you don't want the man to actually feel bad.

So when you see him stand up from his desk and walk into the kitchen, you quickly jump out of your chair and grab something from your bag, trailing right behind him through the bullpen.

He's making himself an exaggeratedly sweet cup of coffee when you corner him.

“Spencer,” you call, making him turn around. Your hands are inconspicuously behind your back, “Trick or treat?”

His eyebrows furrow suspiciously, “Neither if you're going to give me one of those monstrosities you like.”

You huff out a laugh, “No, no, I promise it's not that. Come on, trick or treat? ”

After measuring up how much he trusts your statement, he relents, “Treat.”

“Ta-dah!” you sing, revealing a single Hershey’s Kiss in your palm.

Spencer's eyes light up.

“I know it doesn't make up for everything I ate but it's an offer of peace.”

He gives you a small smile, “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

As his hand extends to grab the chocolate, your brain has an impulsive thought.

You lean forward and peck his lips.

It lasts barely a second but it's enough to make your heart beat wildly against your chest.

Spencer stares at you frozen in place, a crimson color spreading all over his face.

“A kiss for a kiss,” you mumble dumbly, like saying that makes it better somehow.

‘Stupid, stupid, stupid!’ You think to yourself, your feet are prepared to flee the scene when he unexpectedly grabs your wrist.

“I– I...” he stammers, his cheeks turning impossibly redder, “I wouldn't mind if you stole more of those.”

A shy smile spreads on your face. Perhaps you won't start buying your own snacks soon.

✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆

it's a bit silly but I was feeling halloween-y and craving sour candy

leave me a prompt or idea you'd like me to write!

♡, reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

hope ya liked it, byebye

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reiderwriter · 7 months

Text

Elevator Pitch

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: 2k!!

Warnings: Smut, fingering, semi-public sex/ foreplay, praise kink-ish, some pet names completely ignored Spencer's germophobia to make this work 18+ MINORS DNI

Summary: Getting trapped in an elevator is never fun, but at least the attractive you're sharing the metal box of death with has an interesting idea about how you can pass the time.

A/N: This is just a really quick drabble for @imagining-in-the-margins Meet Cute challenge for this month!! I have an idea for another one that I'll post closer to Halloween too, so look forward to that alongside all the kinktober fics 👀

Check out my masterlist here!

You weren't planning on running late on your very first day on your new team, but here you were. You were scheduled to meet Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner in his office at 9 a.m. sharp, and here you were at 8:57, trapped inside an elevator. At least you weren't alone, but alone with a stranger, and one who seemed to be talkative in the worst way wasn't exactly ideal either.

"Hey, don't panic. There are about 6 elevator-related deaths per year and about 100,000 injuries. I'm pretty confident about those statistics." He said, taking a sip of his coffee as he stood calmly by the door, pressing buttons and waiting for something to happen.

"Oh god, I'm gonna die in here." You whimpered a little bit, falling to your knees and screwing your eyes shut.

"No, I said we're not gonna die. Or its at least very unlikely."

"And I'm supposed to trust you?"

"Yes, I'm very good with numbers. Elevator accidents account for 0.00024% of all elevators in service in the US. There you don't have to panic anymore." Almost punctuating his words, the elevator gave a low groan and fell an inch lower, pushing him off balance and toppling to the floor right next to you.

"That was just unfortunate timing." He said, his breath hitting your face. Your eyes opened again finally, and you noticed that due to his topple, he was way closer than before, face merely inches from your own. Whoever this overconfident stranger was, he was attractive. Distractingly so, as you didn't respond to his sentence the entire time he was there in front of you, words suddenly escaping you as you stared into his dark, wide eyes.

"Mechanical issues are the cause of about 15.3% of elevator incidents. Since we're in Quantico, we can probably rule out foul play, which means that they'll probably have us back up and running in around 27 minutes." Opening his mouth ruined the fantasy for a minute, waking you up to the reality of your situation.

"Did you work an elevator case or something, why do you know so much about this?" You regretted the question as soon as you asked it, as he launched into another speech.

"I read the statistical reports published by the CPSC and the OSHA. It’s really interesting stuff actually, there are-”

“Please don’t take this the wrong way but I need you to shut up. I don’t think I can take any more statistics about my inevitable death by elevator. Can we do something else instead?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Can you… Can you hold my hand?” You felt yourself flush red the second the words left your mouth, and suddenly it was your turn to talk too much. “My mom used to do it when I was scared as a kid, and obviously you’re not my mom, and you don’t even know me, but I thought it could help comfort both of us. Human contact and touch is supposedly comforting in times of distress so I just thought…” He cut you off by silently grabbing your hand and settling into a seated position beside you and you sent a little prayer up to god to spare both your soul and your heart.

Because Jesus Christ it was beating hard now.

“Oxytocin,” he said and you looked up at him with a questioning look. “Oxytocin is released when you come into contact with other people, it’s the reason newborn babies benefit from skin-to-skin contact and why humans enjoy petting domestic animals so much. And the whole sex to destress thing.” He nodded and looked away, but you could have sworn the oxygen was completely sucked out of the room when he mentioned sex.

“Sex?” He turned to you as you said the word, as if processing the conversation you were in the middle of it.

“Yeah, never heard of it?” You rolled your eyes and squeezed his hand in your own for a second, but his body was leaning closer into yours now, his entire attention on you, as if he expected you to answer the question.

“Of course I have.”

“And what do you think? Can it help you de-stress?”

Your mouth moves before you can stop it. “Can we stop talking about this please, I’m already scared, I don’t need to be scared and horny.” You close your eyes and groan as his widen again, and suddenly you’re praying again, but this time you wouldn’t really mind if you became one of those six elevator malfunction deaths.

“I don’t know, maybe it would help you. There are some studies that show that stress can have aphrodisiacal impacts in women, you know?” His voice was light, but your entire body stiffened as you looked into his eyes, trying to gauge what this stranger was offering.

“So what, you’re suggesting I just get more and more turned on until I’m not worried about death?”

“No, I’m suggesting I close the gap between us and distract you for a while.” You spared a glance down to his lips then, his tongue darting out to lick them and pulling you in closer. You nodded quickly, a small movement and he pushed his lips down into yours.

He was soft at first, and you almost felt like pulling away and scalding yourself for engaging in risky behavior during a near-death experience. But just as you moved to pull away, his hand came up to your hair and you melted right back into him, the kiss deepening as you slanted your neck up to give up more of yourself to him.

You barely feel his hands pulling you into his lap, but you’re suddenly there and so happy you are. Your free hand wanders up to his chest as he squeezes your connected digits again, sending your heart into a fit of palpitations. In a panic you pull away, groaning a little as you can feel his not stiff member poking between your legs.

“Sorry, I don’t think we exchanged names. I’m Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N..”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” His lips fall down to your neck as he whispers the words into your skin, and you let your head fall back as his hands untangle from you and fall to your hips, encouraging your movements as you begin grinding over him.

“And you said we had twenty-seven minutes before we’re free, right?”

“Whose the one talking too much now?” He bit into your neck sharply then, and you moaned out, battling the urge to let him take you there on the elevator floor. From it’s perch on your hip, his hand slips down and pops the button in your pants, pushing inside and finally touching you through your panties.

“That’s it, good girl, just keep grinding down on me.” Unconsciously, you press your hips into his hands, the pressure leaving you letting out a whistful sigh of relief.

“God,… Should we be doing this here?” Your words were unsure, but your movements weren’t as you pushed yourself into him again and again, desperate to feel more of him as he rubbed circles into your clit, driving you closer and closer to your peak.

“Let’s assume for now that the elevator malfunction has wiped out the CCTV,” he says, lips pressing against your skin as you lose yourself in his touch again. “We absolutely should be doing this.”

His words fell straight to your core, and you felt yourself grow more aroused as you pondered being caught in such an intimate position with a stranger.

“You think you can cum right here, baby? Think you can give me one soon?” His words almost sent you over the edge, his smile widening as your hips twitched over his.

“Fuck, yes, yes, please, don’t stop.”

“Not so scared about this elevator anymore are you? Or did you want to spend your last moments coming undone in my hands?” With his words, you lost the ability to speak, simply moaning out your agreement to his every word.

“I think I can hear someone talking through the walls, baby, you’re going to have to cum now for me, can you do that?” You nodded to him as he increased his pace on your words, and within seconds, you were letting it all out, head falling against his shoulder as you twitched through your orgasm. He pulled his hands out of your pants quickly and pressed a kiss to your lips, pulling you up to a standing position and making you look presentable as the doors to the elevator were finally pried open from the other side.

“Hey, how are you guys holding up in there?” The call came from the maintenance staff, and you were sudden;y thankful that he’d finished you off when he did because as horny as you’d been, actually getting caught like that was something entirely different than the fantasy of it.

You’re almost sorry that you have to leave when you do, suddenly absolutely involved in helping him “destress” the same way he’d helped you out. But he removes his hands from you and strikes up a conversation with the maintenance staff working to get your elevator level with the floor doors. You gravitate to the back of the stall, gripping the railing while your brain catches up to the circumstances.

In no time, the elevator is back in working order, and you and your stranger are stepping foot on steady ground again, and saying your goodbyes.

“Aaron Hotchner’s office is through those doors. Up the stairs to the left.” He smiles and nods at you before turning down the corridor and leaving you there by yourself. A glance at your clock tells you you’re too late to question his words, and how he even knew where you were going. You take off down the hall, ready to profusely apologize to your new boss and pledge to take the stairs for the rest of your days.

When Hotch finally greets you, he has already heard about the elevator malfunction, and all is thankfully forgiven. You have to bite your tongue before asking if everyone on this floor is psychic. But you’re still late, and you have a case, so your introductions have to take place in the briefing room and you half-run, half-walk behind the older man as he makes his way down the hall.

“Everyone we have a new team member today, please help her out for this first one and show her the ropes.” He introduces you by name, and you’re suddenly doing your best to memorize the names of a Prentiss, a Rossi, a Morgan, a JJ, and one Penelope Garcia. They seem to be waiting for someone else, but with the clock ticking, Penelope begins debriefing you on the next case.

“Sorry I’m late,” a voice calls from the door, and you feel the hairs on your neck stand up in shock as everyone slowly turns to greet the newcomer.

“What time do you call this?” Morgan laughs as the familiar man approaches, and a quick glance around tells you that the only seat left at the table, which had been so obviously reserved by the pile of paper files in contrast to everyone else's digital alternatives, was right next to you.

“Spencer, we have a new team member, this is Y/N. She’ll be joining us on cases from today onwards.” Hotch quickly says, and you lock eyes with the man just as he falls into his seat.

“I think we’re acquainted. Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Spencer Reid.” The room falls silent as he holds out his hand for you to shake, and you do your best to not show your shock and embarrassment on your face. You let your hand fall into his, the same one that you’d held earlier, the same one that had worked you up to the edge and then helped you pour over it, the same one that had pulled you together afterward. You said nothing after you’d finally pulled apart, waiting for him to make the next move once again.

“I look forward to working with you.”

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