A/N: I decided to turn this into a small series from a request I got. Virgin!Spence and Virgin!Reader..
holy shit he looks so good not my gif
Word Count: 1,001
Warnings: In the series as a whole there will be smut so...just not this part
Working at the BAU had it’s perks. You became close friends with Penelope, JJ, Emily and Tara. However it did have it’s drawbacks, like not being able to see your family as much as you like. They lived far away as it is but your hectic schedule was something to get used to after all, serial killers don’t take a week off just so you can see your family. Another thing, you weren’t sure if you could categorize this as a pro or con but working with Doctor Spencer Reid. Sure he’s attractive and smart but he always manages to get on your last nerve. Being the stubborn smart ass you are, you hate being corrected and Spencer took it upon himself to correct you all the time. One day you’ll have heard enough of his bullshit and confront him. It’s not that you hated Spencer it was actually quite the opposite when no one expected you’d catch yourself glancing from across the bull pen. The few times he caught your stare and reciprocated with a cocky little smirk and you mentally cursed yourself and returned to your work. You were quickly snapped out of your thoughts by the demanding tone of your best friend and boss.
“Y/L/N, Reid I need you guys to stay behind tonight. We need to get these case files done by the end of the week” Emily said in her Unit Chief voice
She didn’t know about your affinity for Spencer as far as you know but Emily was a damn good profiler and and possibly her senses picked up something you two couldn’t pick up from each other. You’ve never been very good at expressing feelings anyway. Nothing ever seemed to come out right when you expressed your feelings towards a person so you decided to internally bury any romantic feelings. Unfortunately, sometimes those feelings come out in snide,sarcastic comments and jokes at the other person’s expense. It was the only way you knew how to address any type of feeling. Your feelings for Spencer was no exception to the rule. You teased him constantly for everything and that particular night you went a bit too far.
“So… I caught you staring at Luke” you jested
“What are you talking about? Luke is like my brother”
“It’s okay if you swing that way Spence, I won’t judge. You’ve always gave me the vibe”
“What vibe?” he said sounding confused and exasperated
“ you look like you take dick in your ass I’m just saying”
“Wait a minute…You THINK I’M GAY?”
“I haven’t really seen you ..you know date a female woman type person”
“I haven’t dated a guy either?”
“oh are you ace?”
“my guess was you’re either gay or a virgin… possibly both are you a gay virgin?”
Spencer stayed quiet.
“I’m not gay” he whispered barely audible
“So that makes you a…….”
“no stop it’s embarrassing don’t say anything”
You laughed knowing full well you and Reid were in the same boat even though you are significantly younger than he is.
“It’s not funny Y/N it’s embarrassing” you continued to laugh at your colleague’s expense.
“haha so funny Spencer is in his late 30’s and still a virgin how hilarious….you can stop now” he said in a sharp tone
“whatever let’s just sort the files, I couldn’t care less if you’ve never had some place to put it”
“I’ve never seen you out with a man…Are you lesbian Y/N?”
The question caught you off guard. You never expected him to flip the same revealing questions on you. One thing that sucked about being a profiler was other profiler’s profiling you and being able to tell if you’re lying.
“I’m not” you say matter of factly probably the only thing you weren’t going to lie about tonight.
“so why haven’t I seen you with a man or come in bragging the morning after like Emily?”
“Cause I’m picky, I won’t choose just anyone.” another truth left your lips you were selective when it came to dating even though you’ve never really dated and you won’t let him know that.
“So then I’m curious Y/N, how did you lose your virginity?” he asked with a shit eating grin like he knew….
FUCK FUCK FUCK Ok Y/N Just Lie….
“College, drunk at a frat party” that seems like a believable answer yes Y/N good
“I thought you didn’t go to parties in college… too busy studying?” so he was listening to yours and Emily’s conversations….shit
“I went to a few”
“I call bullshit Y/N”
“wait a minute…” he faked gasped “is Our Y/N still a virgin?”
“ No you’re ridiculous…”
“So you give me all kinds of shit for being a virgin but so are you… how interesting”
“I hate profilers” you grumpled
“So how far have you actually went Y/N?”
“I’m not having this conversation with you”
“I’ll tell you. I kissed one girl.. that’s it we made out in a pool..her name was Lilia Archer..”
“I’m not telling you seriously..just get back to work”
“You’d only not tell me if you hadn’t even gone that far. If you went farther you’d be happy to brag” your cheeks heated up not sure if it was embarrassment or anger that he caught you in a lie.
“Fine, I’ve never even been kissed are you fucking happy with yourself?” you practically snarled
“Honestly, Fuck you Spencer”
“Was that an insult or an offer?”
“In your dreams Reid..In your dreams”
“I mean I could take your kissginity”
“I’d rather make out with a moldy piece of bread”
“you don’t mean that” He stepped closer
“You couldn’t possibly mean that. I’ve caught you staring at me for weeks and your pupils are so dilated right now, your breathing is getting heavy, you’re clenching your thighs together…if I didn’t know better miss Y/L/N I’d say you want me.”
Shiro was abducted as a child whilst going on a day trip with Matt and Sam Holt. Eventually he was rescued by Inspector Ulaz, but the Holts weren’t as lucky, and Colleen Holt only got to bury her husband. The Galra clan were implicated to be involved but evidence was always corrupted or lost, and the case was dropped due to corruption. Years later Shiro is now a detective, working with Keith on a case where a former government official (in office during Shiro’s teen years) is found disembowelled and strung up. The case isn’t the usual, no scorned lover or insurance payment, but traces of evidence tying the official to the Galra make the pair think of a vigilante. After the second murder, this time of a lawyer who represented the Galra during the Holt/Shirogane case, Shiro realises they’re dealing with a serial killer. Although the murders seem to be focused on people responsible for his kidnapping or lack of justice, he’s still determined to put this psychopath behind bars. Because it’s the right thing to do, right?
Eventually, fingers start pointing at Shiro himself. He has a motive, opportunity, lack of alibi (he’s fairly secular, and the murders all happen when he’s not on-shift). He’s arrested, only released when a new body is found, the murder happening whilst he was locked up. At least he was treated nicely, given coffee and allowed to keep his shoelaces, perks of being a generally good guy and friendly with anyone, including the cops in charge of the cells.
“Three days, right? Shame I can’t do any paperwork whilst I’m down here. My backlog is going to be huge.”
“Want me to ask Kogane to get you something to work on?”
“You’re a star, McClain”
During the time they’d spent together on the case, Keith had been a comforting presence. Shiro had been mostly fine, having had a decent therapist in school to work through his problems with, but the murders had started bringing back bad memories. His and Kogane’s partnership had been hostile at first until he’d saved Keith’s life, and after that he’d become a person more important to Shiro than he’d like to admit. Some of the comfort Keith had offered had slowly turned to romantic affection between the two, and without the shared love they had Shiro doubted he’d be able to remain objective during the case.
It’s only after he spends the night at Keith’s place, when he starts noticing things out of place around the apartment, things a detective couldn’t have but a murderer should, that everything clicks into place.
And then there’s a knife at his throat and a hand on his back.
Keith loves him. He’d been disgusted to hear about Shiro’s past, face hanging low over bourbon one night after work years ago. In that moment, he decided to fix things so the people who hurt Shiro couldn’t walk free - they didn’t deserve to. He didn’t expect Shiro to love him back though, and he’d made mistakes. Indulging Shiro by taking him to bed meant he now had his love tied down to it, knife at his throat.
No, he’d never meant for Shiro to find out, because he knew it would hurt him. The howls of pain weren’t made by a blade, but by the sound of Shiro’s heart breaking, and it tore Keith open.
Of all the truly famous actors I have ever met – by which I mean those whose faces have appeared, bus-sized, on posters on Sunset Boulevard rather than among, say, the pages of the Radio Times – Gillian Anderson is by some distance the cleverest at interviews. Is it a performance, the way she appears so sane and normal? Or is she really sane and normal? Impossible to say, though I have my suspicions. All I can tell you is that, tiny in her jeans and boots, she radiates a certain surprising solidarity. You’d call it sisterliness, if that didn’t sound so my-pal-the-Hollywood-star deluded.
The first thing to note is that she arrives alone, having walked to the hotel – an unflashy place in an unexpected part of London – from her home nearby. The second is that she does not wear sunglasses, which is probably why no one bothers her, and when she asks for coffee her request comes with no boring rigmarole in the matter of soya, fat, caffeine or anything else. Order placed, coat and bag plonked on the sofa beside her, she turns to me. “Yes,” she says. It’s not a question. It’s not even a starting gun. The word is directed at herself: an acknowledgement, apparently, that she made it out of the house successfully. It is Thanksgiving; she failed to get an Ocado slot; she had a turkey and three children to wrangle. Right. I gaze at her perfect skin, unable to suspend my disbelief. One of the more unnerving things about Anderson is that no photographer has ever done her justice; in the flesh, she is 10 times more exquisite than on the page – today, as I now point out, being no exception. “Ah,” she says, tugging her hair. “I did a shoot yesterday. I had a blow-dry and I didn’t take off the make-up properly. That’s all this is.”
She is here ostensibly to talk (she sounds, by the way, more English than ever) about the BBC’s forthcoming series War and Peace, a lavish affair in which she plays the socialite Anna Pavlovna Scherer – and at first we do discuss why she was drawn to the production: not only were Paul Dano, who plays Pierre Bezukhov, and Stephen Rea, who appears as Vassily Kuragin, already attached, but its writer is Andrew Davies, in whose adaptation of Bleak House she was such amesmerising Lady Dedlock. But she wraps this up pretty swiftly, reluctant to stake too much of a claim on it: her part, as she points out, is only relatively small. Besides, even had she been playing Natasha Rostova herself, War and Peacewould barely be the half of it. Anderson keeps up a frantic pace, her diary bulging like an overdeveloped muscle. Very soon the series that made her famous, The X-Files, is making its comeback to TV screens: she shot it last year, just before she went to India to play Edwina Mountbatten in Gurinder Chadha’s new film The Viceroy’s House. Next week she flies to Belfast to begin filming the third series ofThe Fall for the BBC, after which she will travel to New York, where she will reprise her stunning turn as Blanche DuBois in last year’s acclaimed Young Vic production of A Streetcar Named Desire. And then there is the book about female empowerment that she is currently co-writing with the activist Jennifer Nadel, with the somewhat gnomic title WE.
Was it odd returning to The X-Files? After all, she spent so long trying to escape Agent Dana Scully, upping sticks to London in 2002 and taking on a series of deliberately different roles in independent movies (The Mighty Celt, A Cock and Bull Story). “I was ambivalent about the idea at first,” she says. “In its old incarnation, we used to do 24 shows a year. But I can’t do that any more, so it only became a reality once the networks started to be a bit more lenient about the number of episodes they were willing to air. What was weird once we started was that it was both strange and familiar. We’re both a lot older now. I used to be able to run forever, but now I’m, like: my legs aren’t working. The physical side was… challenging.” She and her co-star David Duchovny are closer than ever – in the old days they used to drive each other a bit mad – but still, it was an “emotionally complicated” shoot for the simple reason that it meant being away from home for so long. Her two younger children are seven and nine.