#(derek softly: pls)

[ssahotchnerr]

BAHAH pls i need a fic where ellie’s cockblocking gets to the point where aaron is desperately asking auntie penelope or jj to babysit her and jack for a night.. he would even entrust spencer for a few hours if nobody else was available just for some alone time😫🤭

on hiatus

this concept is so funny i love it cw; mentions of sex (nothing explicit), brief suggestive content, bau teasing aaron, reader referred to as mom, dad!aaron wc; 1k

"Can't you ask?"

"Well, I could." Aaron's gaze shot to the side, through the blinds and down into the bullpen.

"It wouldn't hurt, right? Because I don't know about you, but I can't wait another night." You exhaled, a slight buzzing effect coming through the phone as a result.

"I'm right there with you." Aaron admitted, resisting the urge to squirm in his seat. "I'm seconds away from reinstalling that damn crib."

"So ask. Anyways, I gotta go. Jack will be home soon, and I should get Ellie up so she does sleep tonight."

Aaron chuckled softly, his eyes finding the family photo framed on his desk. "Why does it not surprise me that for nap time, she'll stay in her bed."

"Stubborn. Just like her father."

After saying goodbye to you, Aaron exited his office, heading to where JJ, Penelope and Derek were all congregating. Their eyes rose as he approached.

"What brings you down here?" JJ asked, using her feet to twist her chair back and forth. "We're not dawdling, I swear."

He brushed past her playful - and untrue - comment. "Need a favor."

Brief distress flashed on Derek's face. "If it requires more paperwork, just give it to Reid."

Like you had said, there was no harm in asking. "It has nothing to do with paperwork. Just in need of a babysitter for tonight."

Penelope's hand shot up, eyes brightening. "Me."

"Big Friday night eh?" Derek wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "What's on the agenda, where the two of you headin'?"

"Nowhere." Aaron shrugged nonchalantly, a smidge of embarrassment heating his face. He was hoping he could persuade with minimal details. "It'll only be for a few hours. We just need them out of the house."

"Oh," JJ smirked after a moment, accompanied with a touch of sympathy. Out of all people, she would understand. "I see."

Aaron met her eyes, keeping his face still but with subtle pleading, hoping she'd tune into it. One that read: I'm begging you not to elaborate.

They were adults. It wasn't a topic of taboo. He just wasn't just too partial on openly discussing his sex life with his colleagues. Doesn't matter how long he's known them.

"Need some, mommy and daddy time, don't you?"

Aaron's stern expression continued to linger, but gradually softened in confirmation. He was tired; tired of waiting and being on the brink.

"No wonder you've been so grumpy."

Aaron shot Morgan a look, before stating his case. "Ellie's out of her crib now. She's learned that the world still continues to go on past bedtime."

"She's out of her crib?" Penelope aww'ed, her bottom lip pouting in bittersweetness.

"And comes into our room," Aaron paused, "every night."

For the first few nights, Ellie had stayed put; the excitement and newness of it all enough to keep her in bed. However, it didn't take long for her to realize she could simply, get up.

She'd come into the living room - you'd usher her back into bed. Jack would come out a while later, complaining Ellie had gone into his room and awoken him - Aaron's turn to return her to bed.

Then came the excuses. She needed water (a sippy cup was given to her, and told this meant she had to go to sleep now). She wanted to watch a movie and "cuddle, please?" It took everything in Aaron to decline, especially after she played up the sweetness in her big, brown eyes.

You'd think after all that, she'd exhausted herself, but no. Next came her crawling into bed with the two of you.

That's where the matter currently stood. She didn't want to sleep in her new big girl bed, but rather, the big bed. Right in the middle, snug between the two of you, and keeping your plans on hiatus.

The next night, you had thought you were in the clear. But sure enough, the second Aaron was straddled atop you, his lips trailing your skin and leaving you breathless, did little footsteps make their way down the hall. Aaron would roll off you instead, supporting himself on an elbow, while you laid there defeatedly, anticipating the opening of your bedroom door.

And again the following night, the same occurrence of events. Admittedly it's been a while since the two of you have been intimate, due to a certain toddler and cases taking Aaron out of town.

Derek laughed, "She's a little menace. I love that kid."

Aaron sighed, both his frustration and need only growing more. His voice wavered on the desperate side, "So can one of you? Please. Just a few hours is all I'm asking."

"I'd be happy to relieve you two. For a full night even, Henry and Michael would love to have Jack and Ellie sleepover." JJ offered, and Aaron internally let out a deep sigh of relief. "Will and I have been there, I get it."

"I-"

"And Aunt Penelope can come too, don't worry." JJ interrupted Penelope with a smile, reaching over and giving her hand a gentle tap.

"I'd- We'd appreciate it. Thank you." Aaron's shoulders dropped, and he could already feel the tension leaving his body. A rush of energy swept through him too, anticipating the delightfully, now long, night ahead. He could not wait to get home.

His thoughts were put on hold when he noticed the glint in JJ's eyes.

"And so you can relieve yourself."

Derek cackled while Aaron rolled his eyes, turning away from the group to hide his smile.

"Just let me know what time you want them over."

[piinksdoll]

→ [Bed Chem | Spencer Reid]

Pairing~ Spencer Reid x Singer!Reader

Genre~ fluff, very suggestive

Word Count~ 2.2k

Warnings~ sexual innuendos, spencer being an awkward cutie

a/n~ very fluffy and cute but also VERY suggestive, and I know some of the lyrics down match up with spence so pls dont hate me also I just used a photo of sab so dont hate me it was just to visualize!!! also NOT PROOFREAD!!!! also I added links to visualize for me people who are visual-izers lol k have fun!

part 1!! part 2!!

(Narrator POV)

Penelope had gathered everyone in her apartment for her usual get-together, but this time, she seemed particularly excited about something. She wouldn’t stop grinning, and none of the team could get a straight answer about what they were about to listen to. Spencer would rather be at home with you, since days that you're in Virginia are scarce, but you insisted he hang out with his friends. He sat in Penelope’s apartment excited for the night to be over so he could return home to you.

“Come on, Babygirl, spill it,” Derek said, giving her an exasperated look. “What’s this surprise? Is it a podcast? Audiobook? Something crime-related?”

“Oh, it's so much better than that!” Penelope said with a mischievous look in her eye. “It’s music! A new artist I’m obsessed with. Her name is Y/n Y/l/n and she's so amazing you’re going to love her! We’re listening to her new album Short n’ Sweet, she only has a performance out for Bed Chem so we’re going to start off with that!”

The fact that she had chosen your album had made Spencer uncharacteristically nervous, and now that Penelope was about to press play on a song about him, his unease was starting to become visible. Spencer stiffened beside Derek, his fingers nervously twitching at his sides. He knew this album very well. Penelope pressed play, and the first beats of ‘Bed Chem’ by you started filling the room. The sultry intro immediately set the tone, and Spencer swallowed hard. He could feel the heat rise in his cheeks. Of all the songs.

I was in a sheer dress the day that we met

We were both in a rush, we talked for a sec

Your friend hit me up so we could connect

And what are the odds? You sent me a text…

Emily raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Ooh, this sounds fun.” JJ nodded along, smiling. “It’s catchy.” But it wasn’t long before the lyrics kicked in, and as Spencer listened to the opening lyrics he recalled how you two met:

Flashback

(Y/n POV)

“Listen, I know I have all these things to do but I just need time ok? The album needs something, I am not at all ready for it to come out. It's literally all just sad, and there needs to be something else apart from it. Nat, please just a few more months and you can release it no matter what- oh my, i'm so sorry that was totally my fault!” I exclaimed seeing coffee spill all over the coat of the stranger in front of me. My phone fell on the ground  between us landing under the books that had slipped from his hand. I look up and am met with big brown eyes that look like chocolate I can just melt in.

The stranger in front of me gasped slightly, looking down at his now coffee-stained coat. "No, no, it's okay!" he reassured me, his voice soft but flustered as he knelt down to gather his fallen books. I crouched quickly, reaching for my phone that had landed just beneath one of his thick textbooks.

“I’m really sorry,” I said again, glancing up at him once again as our hands brushed while reaching for the same book. His eyes met mine, and for a moment, I was struck by how gentle his expression was, despite the mess I had made.

He smiled softly, his eyes crinkling at the edges in a way that made my heart skip a beat. "Really, it's fine," he said, handing me the phone. "Accidents happen." I let out a small, relieved laugh, grateful he wasn’t upset. “I’ll buy you a new coat or at least pay for the dry cleaning. Seriously, I’m-”

“You don’t have to do that,” he interrupted, standing up and shaking his head. “It’s just coffee. I can clean it up.” I straightened, still feeling embarrassed. “At least let me buy you a coffee. You know, to replace the one I spilled.” I offered, hoping to make up for my clumsiness. He looked at me for a moment, considering it, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Alright. But only if you’ll let me grab a seat and hear why you’re so stressed out.” He motioned towards the phone I had been mid-conversation with when we collided. I blinked, surprised by his easy going nature. "Deal," I said, smiling cheekily up at him “But, uh... I didn’t catch your name.” He extended a hand. "Spencer. Spencer Reid."

I shook his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch as I introduced myself. “Nice to meet you, Spencer. I'm Y/n.”

Flashback Over

And now the next thing I know, I'm like

Manifest that you're oversized

I digress, got me scrollin' like 

Out of breath, got me goin' like

Who's the cute boy with the white jacket and the thick accent? Like

Ooh, maybe it's all in my head

But I bet we'd have really good bed chem

Spencer’s stomach dropped as the next set of lyrics filled the room. Penelope was still humming along, enjoying the vibe of the song, completely oblivious to the growing nervousness inside of him.“‘Manifest that you're oversized... Out of breath, got me goin' like...’” Penelope sang along under her breath. She glanced over at Spencer and caught him staring at the floor, his body stiff. 

“Oh, this one’s so good! It’s got that flirty energy.” Derek laughed. “It’s catchy, for sure. I wonder who the song is about though?” He grinned, “Bet the dude is feelin’ pretty lucky.” Spencer's breath hitched as the chorus started

How you pick me up, pull me down, turn me 'round, oh, it just makes sense

How you talk so sweet when you're doin' bad things, that's bed (bed) chem (chem) 

How you're lookin' at me, yeah, I know what that means and I'm obsessed 

Are you free next week? I'd bet we'd have really good

Spencer’s mind was racing as the sound of your voice fills the room. He knew everyone was at ease and him being stiff and sweating was putting a spotlight on him. Emily let out a low chuckle as the suggestive lyrics played. “This girl is something else. I don’t know who she’s singing about, but they must be good.” She raised an eyebrow, half-joking, but Spencer could feel his heart racing.

Come right on me I mean, camaraderie 

Said you're not in my timezone, but you wanna be 

Where art thou? Why not uponeth me? 

See it in my mind, let's fulfil the prophecy Ooh (ah) 

He takes in a sharp breath at the racy lyrics. His pulse quickened, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The team continued to listen, oblivious to the internal panic flooding his body. Each line felt more like a spotlight aimed directly at him. Derek let out a low whistle, eyebrows raising at the suggestive turn in the song. “Damn. This song is getting real interesting.” He laughed at Spencer’s uncomfortable state, completely unaware of the significance behind it.

JJ chuckled, swaying her head to the beat. “I love how bold she is! Whoever this song is about… they are very lucky.” Spencer’s hands gripped the edge of his seat, his face heating up. He could feel Emily’s eyes subtly watching him from across the room. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could endure this.

Who's the cute guy with the wide, brown eyes and the big bad, mmm, like? 

Ooh (ah) I know it sound a bit redundant 

But I bet we'd have really good bed chem

As the song ended Spencer let out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding in, thankful that the song was over. “What's up, pretty boy? Couldn't handle a pretty girl singing bout bad things?” Derek teased him, throwing an arm around his shoulders, his grin wide. As he was about to respond his phone rang, Spencer’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest when his phone buzzed on the table. The screen lit up with your name and contact photo, one of you smiling brightly. The entire team froze, their eyes slowly shifting from the phone to Spencer, then back to the phone.

Derek’s grin widened even more, his teasing now taking on a new level. “Well, well, well… Look who it is.” he said, still keeping his arm draped over Spencer’s shoulder. “Is this the mystery girl you've been so secretive about these past few months?” Penelope's eyes widened in excitement. “Oh my gosh, Spencer! Are you going to answer? You have to answer.” JJ leaned in closer, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “This explains a lot, actually,” she said, glancing from Spencer to the phone, Emily finished her sentence. “Especially that song.” Spencer shook his head trying to hide his blush as he answered the phone.

“Hey Y/n”

‘Hey lover, you havin fun?’

“Yeah, uh, the night took an interesting turn…”

‘Oh? How so?’

“Yeah, uh so Penelope invited us over and turns out it was a listening party… for your album…”

‘Oh- that hilarious oh my’

“Yeah and they just heard Bed Chem and they saw you called me…”

‘Oh my- HAHA thats so funny whattt’

“Yeah, they wanna meet you now.”

‘Well good because I've been wanting to meet them! Can you finally introduce us?’

“Alright well I guess it’s time. You're my person, I want you to meet my family.”

‘Well I can't wait. What about you invite them to my concert next weekend in DC and we can go to dinner afterwards?’

“Sounds perfect, like you, I'll see you at home I love you.”

‘Love you too. See ya lover’

Spencer returned to the group after hanging up, slipping his phone into his pocket. He tried to keep his expression neutral, but the warmth from your call still lingered on his face. As he sat down, the team was waiting for him, grins plastered across their faces, eyes twinkling with mischief. Derek was the first to break the silence, leaning in with a smirk. “So, pretty boy, you and Y/n Y/l/n, huh? Sounds like she’s got you all wrapped up in that album.”

Spencer shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the others, who were clearly holding back their laughter. “I didn’t know we were having a listening party,” he mumbled, trying to divert the attention. “Didn’t know? Or didn’t plan on being exposed?” Emily teased, raising an eyebrow. Penelope gasped dramatically, clutching her heart. “I mean, Spencer Reid as a muse for a song about that? Honestly, I’m living for this.” Spencer’s face flushed deep red. “It’s not exactly like that-”

“Oh, come on, Spence!” JJ finally chimed in, laughing. “Even you have to admit it’s a little funny.” Spencer looked down at his hands, a small, shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Okay... maybe it’s a little funny.” The team erupted into laughter, the tension in the air easing as they continued to tease him, but in a much lighter, more affectionate way. “You really had us going there, man,” Derek chuckled, shaking his head. “Didn’t expect you two.”

Spencer sighed, still smiling despite the embarrassment. “I didn’t expect it either... but, you know, I’m really lucky to have her.”

“And clearly, she’s lucky to have you, too,” Emily added, her teasing softening into something more sincere. “You two make a great pair.” Spencer looked up at her, grateful for her words. “Thanks, Emily.”

“She uh, invited all of you to her concert next week and dinner afterwards so you guys can finally meet.” A mix of excitement and nervousness in his voice. “She's been asking for a while but I've been nervous but she's really important to me. I really love her, you guys, and youre my family. It's time for you guys to meet.” He nodded sincerely. 

Penelope was the first to speak, “Oh my god, yes please I wasn’t able to get tickets that amazing! And I cannot wait to meet her!” Her voice was laced with excitement. JJ smiled brightly, nudging Spencer’s shoulder playfully. “Look at you! Having a secret girlfriend. I love it. I’m so happy for you, Spencer!” Emily beamed, her gaze softening. “You two sound like a perfect match. I can’t wait to meet her. It’s about time you brought someone special around.” Derek raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin forming on his lips. “So, what are you saying, Reid? Are you going to introduce us to your girlfriend or what? Does she have any friends for me?” Spencer rolled his eyes but couldn’t help but smile. “I am not setting you up, but I know you’ll love her. She’s the sweetest person ever. Just be nice, okay?” 

“I can’t make any promises,” Derek joked, chuckling. “Seriously, though,” Emily said, her tone turning more sincere. “We’re really happy for you, Spence. It’s great to see you so happy.” He nodded, his heart swelling with affection for you and gratitude for his friends. “Thanks, guys. I really appreciate it.”

The conversation continued, filled with excitement and anticipation for the upcoming concert. As the banter resumed, Spencer couldn’t shake the feeling of joy bubbling within him. He knew that sharing this part of his life with his team was important, and he couldn’t wait for you to meet the people who meant so much to him. Later that evening, as he headed home, he found himself smiling at the thought of seeing you. He couldn't wait to show you how much he cared about you and how much he wanted you to be a part of his world.

[hotchs-big-hands]

Ada my love you know that boyfriend ‘test’ of handing them your purse/handbag/bag when you go to the bathroom to see how they hold it? Yeah I need your take on our BAU men x that trend pls. Would they hold your purse?

AAAAAAAAA HELLO MY LOVE ROME ITS SO NICE TO SEE YOU IN THE ASKBOX 🥰🥰🥰🥨💖🥨💖🥨💖🥨💖🥨💖🥨💖🥨💖🥨💖🥨💖🥨💖🥨💖

gosh I LOVE this trend thing, it's cute. I'll ummmm do smth I've never done before and do some hcs for more than just ayayron, as requested 😳😳😳😳😳 gahdayum

What the different BAU men would do if asked to hold your bag/purse for you when you go the bathroom.

GN!reader|sfw

Aaron Hotchner

Okay so this man is like. The biggest gentleman ever of course. So when you approach him during a team night out with your bag he takes it without hesitation to your question.

"Of course, it's safe with me."

He is very protective of it, gripping onto it to his chest with one arm and hand whilst the other holds onto his drink as he sips periodically. He doesn't pay any mind when the others eye him curiously, and when you return he smiles slightly and holds out your bag to you.

"Here you go. Don't hesitate to ask me again as well, sweetheart."

He has to admit, he adores the delighted grin you offer in return when you thank him for holding your bag. And he's able to drown out the chuckles of the other members of the team because he's certain he probably looks like a lovesick puppy.

Derek Morgan

Derek raises his brow with a teasing grin as you ask him to hold your bag for you.

"Mind if I take a lil peek?" He jokes, chuckling when you babble at him not to look, panic flashing in your eyes. "Relax, sweets. I'm not gonna look."

Holds it under his muscular arm and stares down anyone who gives him a funny look. He's shameless, plus he's happy you trust him to take care of your stuff.

You return momentarily and look relieved to see him holding it protectively. He smiles and holds it out to you when you're close enough.

"There you go, sweets. Don't worry, I didn't look inside." He winks at you and you lightly shove him, pouting playfully. He loves teasing you.

Spencer Reid

Man's shook when you ask him of all people to hold your bag for a moment.

"Me? I-I mean of course I'll hold it!" He hates that his voice cracked but you don't seem to mind though, smiling sweetly and thanking him before you turn away and disappear to find the restroom.

He is holding onto the bag straps so tightly that his knuckles are turning white. No-one is getting hold of this bag, if it's the last thing he'll ever be sure of. Derek saunters over with a grin and chuckles as he points out how tight his grip is. But even as he feels heat rush to his cheeks, he dutifully holds on tight to your bag.

Your return makes him smile with relief, but he holds on tight to the bag even as you now come to stand face-to-face with him. You hold your hand out and ask for your bag back and he flushes. "R-right yeah, here!" He said quickly and holds the bag out, grip still strong until you take hold of it.

You giggle softly and thank him, and he grins awkwardly as he watches you turn away and head off elsewhere. It's only when he feels Derek's hand lightly land on his shoulder that he refocuses and embarrassment floods his senses. Hopefully, he'll be more confident in himself next time you ask him to hold your bag.

David Rossi

When you timidly approach Dave at the table he's seated at with Aaron and hold out your bag to him, he raises a brow at you when you ask him to hold your bag for you for a moment.

"Hm? You want me to take care of it for you? Of course, tesoro."

He places it on the table in front of him, not without smoothing his hands over the surface slightly because well, he is fond of you after all. Aaron huffs out a quiet snort, raising his brow with a grin at him. Dave shakes his head and waves him off.

You're quick to return with a shy smile, thanking him sweetly for keeping an eye on your bag. He picks up the bag and holds it out to you, making sure you've secured it before he drops his arm. "Anytime, tesoro. I'll look after it for you."

He winks at you and delights in your flustered movements, meeting his eye and as Aaron stands and gives him a pointed look, Dave pulls out a chair next to him and invites you to join him for the evening.

Lmao this was probably shit but I'm not too confident writing for other characters 😭😭 I hope people enjoyed tho regardless KSSKSK

[railingsofsorrow]

hiii could i request a cute lil fic of the origin of spencer’s purple scarf? maybe reader is in the bau too and they’re secretly dating and maybe for their one month she gives him the purple scarf cuz she notices turtle necks bother him so she opted to get something that warms him up, is his favorite color, and reminds him of her if there’s ever a change they’re apart ….

he loves it ofc and starts wearing it to work and the team realizes it’s his thing now to wear the scarf if he’s cold and the reader feels all happy cuz he likes it but maybe during a tough case reader gets hurt protecting the team and in the hospital he’s like fidgeting with the scarf and morgan asks what’s up and he’s like “y/n gave me this scarf she said it would remind me of her if we’re ever apart but i don’t ever want to be away from her” AND IT ENDSS IN FLUFF PLS TJANK UUUU

maybe a cute lil recovery scene where the reader is cold and he gives her the scarf to wrap around her neck mwahhahaha and some team comments mwahahhhaha

Purple Scarf

[spencer reid x reader]

A/N: can I just say how in love with this request I was when I saw it my heart BURST. hope I granted your wishes anon <3

summary: in which yours and spencer's secret relationship is not as secret as you thought it was.

pairing: s.reid x f!reader

w.c: 3.5K

warnings/content: allusions to sexual content (you blink and you miss it); cm usual violence and confrontation; mentions of blood, hospitals and injuries; angst; teasing; fluff fluff fluff.

navi

masterpost

[requested]

•°. *࿐•°. *࿐•°. *࿐

September 8 of 2007.

Day 30.

It's officially a month that you and Spencer are dating. More specifically 720,000 hours, 43,200 minutes and 2,592,000 seconds — Yes, he counted. It's not that surprising, his brain never stops.

“Did you finish Dandelion Wine last night again?”

Unless it's your voice. That angelic sound slipping out from your throat that resembled the A Major key in a piano; a warm blanket draping over him that soothed his mind to a less frantic place.

The way your lips curl in a smile tells him you're not phased by his nod of affirmation. Leaning on his desk with your hip, you place down his mug in front of him, coffee vapor fluttering out.

“I'm not surprised.”

His grin is hidden by sipping on the hot liquid. “Why would you be?”

“Right.”

Spencer wanted to kiss you. He'd be bashful and red at the mere thought of it a few months ago, a complete mess if your gaze so much as crossed. But he's known you for two years now, you've been friends since you entered the BAU, and he's been in love with you for half of that time. He's allowed to think that in a work environment. He's just not allowed to do it.

He's very inclined to break the rules when he feels cold fingers running through the nape of his neck. Spencer's instinctive reaction is to shrink his shoulders but he quickly relaxes.

“Don't know how you can even think about cutting it,” you say, pulling softly at his strands.

He gave you a look. “It's too long.”

“So?” you shrug. “It's pretty,” you traced her thumb across his jaw, halting on his cheek. “You're pretty.”

He doesn't know how to react to compliments first thing in the morning. Scratch that, he doesn't know how to react to compliments at all.

“You're prettier.”

“That's not possible.”

And he's about to shut you up with a kiss because frantically? How could you disagree with him on this. But you retract your hands and pull some space between you. His hurt expression isn't present for long until he notices where your gaze falls.

Derek is talking to someone behind the glass doors, his hand wavering over the entrance announcing that the conversation is ending.

Your relationship being a secret was a mutual decision. None of you wanted the attention or the teasing that would eventually come from your friends — not that that didn't occurred before. Less alone the issues with the Fraternization Policy, they'd rather leave that to the fine line in Morgan and Garcia's work calls.

“Don't cut it.” She nudges his arm. “How am I supposed to pull it?”

Spencer choked on his coffee, inciting a chuckle out of you as you rubbed his back gently. He blinked up at you in shock.

“What?”

“Great scarf. Love the color.”

He officially hates you. Yes.

Except that he doesn't. Not even a little bit.

Your menacing smile is the last thing he sees before you walk off to Penelope's office. Of course you love it, you gave it to him as one month anniversary gift that morning, while he had given you a book you've been mentioning for a while and a necklace with your birthstone in the pendant.

“I know turtlenecks bother you but I know you get cold easily so I thought you'd like it.” Spencer hadn't given you a reaction. From the moment he opened your gift box, he sat emotionless on the sofa, staring at it as his fingers stroked the soft fabric.

It was a handknit purple scarf. Spencer couldn't believe it. You made it yourself. He vaguely remembers you always knitting something in the jet when a case was over, he thought you had adopted a new hobby, not that you were doing this for him.

And in his favorite color.

He felt like crying upon seeing the S.W.R on one of the extremities. His initials.

“You didn't like it.”

His head snapped up and he's met with your uneasy gaze. He hadn't said anything.

Spencer crossed the room in a sprint and crashes your lips to his, you respond with a ooof! in surprise but quickly kisses him back just as fervently.

“I love it.” He says after you split apart. “It's the best gift I've ever gotten.” He keeps peppering your face with kisses which makes giggles to erupt out of you. “Thank you, thank you, sweetheart.”

“It's for you to remember me when we're apart.” Her cheeks flushed pink. “That was cheesy but I knitted it that so I get to be cheesy.”

Spencer fiddled with the soft fabric of his scarf, loosening it slightly. It was suddenly too warm.

He blames you for it.

The two of you were supposed to spend the rest of the day in a Contemporary Art Museum after your paperwork was done. You weren't called in for a case, so it was a last minute decision because of your hectic schedule.

“Why are you all flushed?” He turns to Derek with widened eyes.

“What?”

Derek narrowed him down suspiciously. Hotch interrupts them by calling them in for the conference room. Spencer inwardly groans but he takes it to slip away from Derek's pestering.

“Oh, that's beautiful.” JJ points at your neck as you meet in the roundtable. “Where did you get it?” Your fingers brushed against the necklace mindlessly, the edge of your lips quirking up slightly.

“It's a gift.”

JJ silently studied your features as you say down beside one another, waiting for Garcia to present the new case. That fond gaze, the sparkle in your eyes and the way your body demeanor instantly relaxed was the indication she needed to understand what you weren't saying.

“Oh,” her grin widened and she leans closer. “Who's the lucky someone?”

Your eyes lowered to your lap and you tried to pretend you were interested in your shoes. She could see you getting flustered and that made her shook her head in disbelief. JJ has never seen you that shy or even blushing. That was new.

Spencer walked in with Derek and Emily on his trail. They started discussing the case when Rossi arrived. You didn't spend ten minutes in the room before Hotch announced wheels up in thirty.

“Did you know that poor sleeping habits can interfere in your sleep quality? A study showed that daily coffee consumption and using the cellphone in bed are two of the largest factors associated with poor sleep quality. Besides stress, anxiety, depression, sleep apnea, and chronic health conditions.”

Spencer rambles on before you can settle down in one of the seats, covering a yawn with your hand.

“I'm glad you know too much caffeine is bad for your health, baby. Maybe you should follow your own advice.” You heard his snicker as he sits down with a smug smile. You chose the window seat, Emily takes your side and Derek sits across from you. Rossi and Hotch are in the seats beside yours while JJ takes the couch.

The air shifts. You feel it. It's sudden, out of nowhere and you can't figure out the reason. All eyes are set on you which makes you shift uncomfortably, sleepiness vanishing.

“What?”

“Baby?” Derek lifts a brow questioningly and you cast him a confused look. But Spencer buried his face in the file and all is clear.

“You have petnames now?” Emily teases, nudging your feet with her shoe. “That's sickening.”

“That's cute!” Penelope yells from the computer scream.

You clear your throat in a foolish attempt for cover your embarrassment. You called him baby in front of the whole team? Nice. Very nice. You stupid idiot.

“It's manner of speaking,” You shrug, grabbing the crime scene photo haphazardly.

Emily quips back a comment and Derek follows her on it. Fortunately, Hotch begins to detail what everyone else will do as they land. JJ and Reid are going to the morgue to analyse Victmology, Rossi and Emily are going to the police station and that leaves you Hotch to the crime scenes.

It took a while for you to grasp the UnSub's intentions. You spent the entire afternoon with the wrong profile to then figure out he was hunting people that had a certain face shape and visible scars. Nothing related to gender, contrary to what you believed.

When you found him, he had a knife to a woman's neck, the last victim that had disappeared two days ago. Apparently you got there exactly on time because he kept his victims for two days to bury them alive in the last one.

But he didn't want to let her go, despite the ensuing confrontation. Either he surrendered or he died, there was no in between. You wouldn't let him hurt anybody else.

“Let her go.”

Aaron's assertive tone reverberated through the warehouse. The SWAT team was blocking every exit possible, at least twenty firearms aimed at him but he still wouldn't budge.

“Can't do that,” the UnSub lowered the knife closer to the victim's neck. He seemed too calm for someone that cornered. No. You could see the slight shake in his hand that he was trying to cover. “You get back from where you came from or I'll slash her throat.”

“You won't do that.”

For some reason, you thought it was Emily speaking, attempting to get into his head. Until Derek hissed for you to stay back and you realized the voice belonged to you.

“You can get out of this, just let her go and surrender. No harm has to be done.”

“Right. So that I can spend the rest of my life tossed up behind bars? I don't think so, Agent.”

The smugness in his tone was betrayed by the twitch in his left eye and that's when you knew you were almost there.

“We can make a deal. One that'll be comfortable for you,” you promised, stowing your weapon in your holster as your eyes kept locked on his. You didn't want to find out what would happen if you even breath the wrong way. “There's twenty people with you in their line of fire. Only one way out. Let her go, we'll figure this out.” You finally reached a position close enough to the victim but not at all safe for you. You were right at his aim if he wanted to shoot you, his gun right behind the woman's head.

“Only one way out?” He scoffed, cocking the weapon to the side.

Emily said his name in a warning. Everyone yelling for him to drop the weapon. He didn't.

You should've known better.

Your ears rang with Spencer calling out your name before you were thrown on the floor roughly without a single warning. The feeling of dread crippling in your chest when you felt something wet between your fingers.

“Hey, hey,” Derek forced you to look at him. “You okay?”

You blinked down at your arm, the bullet grazed the skin, it barely touched you. A breath of relief escaped you and he shook his head in disbelief.

“You're insane,” he uttered, hugging you to which you let out a groan. Your shoulder hurt, you couldn't move it.

At least it wasn't a bullet. Derek had pushed you away on time.

•°. *࿐

The thing you hated the most about hospitals was the fluorescent lights. Your eyes were sensitive to light which was the reason you used sunglasses anywhere you went — reading glasses as well, but you didn't bother with those. No matter how many times Spencer would list the permanent harm done to your sight every time he saw you squinting at a book.

You were stubborn. To say the least.

He thought it was cute, for the most part. You listened to him although you liked to do things you own way. Okay, he respected that. Spencer loves every part of you, from the scrunch of your nose when you laughed to the rare times you'd forget the wet towel on the bed.

Sometimes, however, he wants to crawl out of his skin. How could you let your guard down in front of a madman that was ready to lose it all? Why couldn't you just stay back like Derek had asked and waited patiently on how it would play out?

But no, you wouldn't do that. You were as stubborn as a mule. And that's how you got shot in the arm and dislocated a shoulder.

“It grazed her forearm, Spence.” JJ explained for the tenth time. “She just needed some stitches.”

“But it wasn't just the grazed arm, though was it? There's also the dislocated shoulder and the almost concussion she gained as she fell on the floor.”

JJ sighed and turned to him. “You're concerned, but she's fine. It wasn't exactly wise what she did,” she said with a wince. “But it's done and thankfully didn't evolved to anything serious.”

“She reminds me of you.”

Both heads snapped around to see Derek approaching with his coffee. He pointed the plastic spoon he was stirring the coffee with directly at Spencer's face.

“What does that mean?” Spencer pulls away from the threatening spoon, the pitch of his voice raising.

Derek looks at JJ with a pointed look, she seems to understand and chuckles, nodding shortly.

Oh, they're communicating through telepathy now?

“You're both reckless.” Derek pats his shoulder, mentioning for something behind him. Just as Spencer is about to retort, he sees you through the transparent doors of your room, chuckling at something the doctor said. “See? She's awake.”

Spencer can't tell how long he stood there, staring at you until JJ nudged him.

“I've never seen you wearing scarves. Is that new?” She eyes the purple fabric around his neck with a little smile. His fingers brush against it absentmindedly.

“Uh, yeah. It's a gift. She gave it to me.” JJ blinks up at him in surprise, she was not expecting Spencer to just blurt it out like that. “... said it was something to remember her when we're apart.” His lips spread into a soft grin. He didn't even notice he was speaking out loud. “As if I can ever forget her.”

“Go see your girl, pretty boy. Stop staring.” Derek walked back towards them, pushing Spencer towards your room with a slight shove. Safe to say he hadn't heard anything Spencer said.

At first, JJ tries not to demonstrate her excitement too much. She thought that when Penelope told her they were seeing each other out of work it was a big fantasy created in her head. Everyone knew they had feelings for one another but nobody would dare think they were already past the friends phase. Oh, but JJ was so wrong. That fondness in Spencer was something new. A good something. And she couldn't be happier for the two of you.

“Hi,” you beam at the sight of your boyfriend entering the room.

“Hi.” Spencer kisses the top of your head and wraps an arm around your back as to not touch your injured arm. “How do you feel?”

“Ready to enter the jet and sleep the two hours we have until we land in Quantico.”

He cracks a smile, shaking his head. “You're unbelievable.”

You let out a half laugh, when your eyes met you saw a pinch of concern between his brows as he scanned you over.

“Spencer, I'm fine.”

“Can you maybe try and be more careful next time?” He says. “Don't lower your weapon while being on the aim of a serial killer?”

You hummed softly, adjusting the collar of his shirt behind the vest he was wearing. “Okay. Can you promise to do the same then? Cause you're just as reckless as me.”

He gaped at you. “I am not—”

“Spencer.”

He clips his mouth shut, blinking. “Fine? Okay. Yeah, fine.” He breathes out. “Just don't scare me like that again, please?” He pointedly says, brushing a stray strand behind your ear.

Your line of work was tough, especially if someone you deeply cared about was in the field with you. You couldn't just disconnect work and personal life in these kind of situations, as hard as you tried. Your heart leaped in your chest every time anyone from the team so much as got a minimum scratch. They're your family through and through.

And Spencer... Spencer was the love of your life. No doubt in that.

That's why it wasn't worth it to dwell on what happened in the field but focus on the after. Night outs to a bar, karaoke night, dinner at Rossi's — he makes a killer pasta — or, in this case, an Art Museum date with your boyfriend. Those moments made everything worth it.

The air shifts again. You study the room as you sit beside Spencer, trying to find any hints from what it might have caused that feeling. But everyone is paying attention to their own things and things seems normal. Or your profile skills are clouded by your exhaustion.

Something fuzzy wraps around your neck and the smell of amber and cinnamon took you to a familiar place.

“You forgot to bring a coat,” he said, tucking your hair behind your ears gently, adjusting the scarf on you. “It looks good on you too.” He shrugs, lips curling in a pout.

Can you blame yourself for wanting to kiss him so badly?

You don't do it, aware you were under profilers’ watchful eyes. Spencer lifted the arm of the seat so you could rest your head on his shoulder as he read — one time you revealed you liked the sound of page turning as he read and he made sure you always could rest against him. You might have missed the collective cooing around the jet as soon as you fell asleep but Spencer didn't and he tried to hide the tinge of red in his cheeks behind the book.

“Pay up.” Derek ordered with his hand outstreched to Emily, who promptly slapped it.

“You don't know how long.”

“My bet was that they were already seeing each other.”

“That's not fair,” Rossi chipped in. “We didn't established a period of time.”

Derek shrugs, “Not my problem. I won either way.”

“Penelope said the same thing.”

“Well, then babygirl and I won—”

“We still need a time.” Emily said thoughtfully, giving Derek his money with a huff. “This is extortion, Morgan.”

He chuckled, waving the twenty dollar bill in front of her. JJ rolled her eyes at the childishness. At the end, Derek had earned sixty bucks between grumblings of unfairness.

“When do you think?” Hotch broke the conversation, eyes not even lifting from his reports. Emily asked him what he was talking about. “I'd say that it became official in about a month.” He hadn't participated in the bet, but he could share a thing or two on the topic. God knows how long you you two have been pinning over each other.

Rossi narrowed his eyes at him, suspiciously, “You know something we don't, Aaron?”

“Just mere assumptions.”

It didn't take long for another bet to ensue. When the jet landed, each one stretched their limbs and prepared to go home, before anyone could move towards the exit, however, Spencer broke the silence.

“Hotch is right.” He said, grabbing both of your go-bags and following you out of the door.

“Did he just?” Emily froze half way standing up.

“That little shit.”

He didn't hold back the chuckle as a faint argument started.

“What are you laughing at?” You glance at him at the corner of your eye. He brushes you off, pulling you at his side by wrapping a hand around your waist. “Are you aware they can see us or...?” You queried, confused at his actions.

Spencer shrugs, kissing your temple. “They know.”

You bury your nose in the scarf and lean into his side, not even daring to ask what he means by that and neither do you look back at your friends. You'd rather face the teasing in the morning anyway.

[peaxhxhair]

Can i request a derek sheperd x male reader? I dont hace a plot, just fluff. If you fan incluye derek and reader cuddling pls

Pairing: Derek Shepherd x Male! Reader Warnings: None! Just a nice fluffy moment with Derek :) A/n: ahhh! thank you for requesting!! I love writing the cute stuff :)) Hope you enjoy!! <3 Word Count:484 Navigation Grey's Anatomy - MASTERLIST Become a Member! <3

The one thing you couldn't get over with your job, was that your feet were always hurting by the time you got home. Even buying nice comfy shoes doesn't seem to help.

That feeling of relaxation when you finally get to sit down after being on your feet for hours. It was unmatched. Well...Until you had to get up again.

"Love, you've been sat in your scrubs for over an hour now" Your boyfriend says, leaning over the back of the sofa to get a look at your face. You were spread out on the couch, your arm draped over your eyes as you tried to relax. Derek had been home for a while, having left the hospital a few hours before you had.

You grunt at him, waving his face away as he attempts to lean closer - pushing him back slightly. "My feet hurt" You complain, only to scowl slightly as he laughs at you. You attempt to move, only to give up after only a few seconds - deciding it wasn't worth it to deal with your aching joints. "Can't move"

You peer at him as you move your arm from your face, noticing the smug look on his face. Before you get a chance to question him, he hoists you up into him arms - making you grunt in surprise. "What are you doing?" Your hands move to his shoulders, making sure you keep your balance, and so he doesn't drop you. He wouldn't, but sometimes he would pretend to. You really hated when he did that.

"I'm helping my boyfriend get changed. Since he doesn't want to move" He grins at you as he carries you into your shared room, and plopping you on the bed. He helps you to take your shoes off, before you eventually shoo him away - saying that you can do it yourself. He instead claims a spot on the bed, lying down and watching as you uncomfortably shuffle around the room.

You eventually return after showering and getting changed, now in more comfortable clothes. Balling your scrubs up, you toss them into the laundry basket, before joining Derek in bed. Your head was quick to make contact with his chest - your arms wrapping around his sides.

"Better?" He asks, and you hum quietly, closing your eyes as you cuddle into him. His fingers run through your hair, his eyes locked onto your figure - watching your breathing. Eventually, you shift to rest your head in the crook of his neck, leaving a soft kiss under his jaw, and he presses his nose into your hair - his hands now moving to caress your sides.

It was quiet for a while, only the sounds of you both breathing breaking up the quiet room.

"Derek, are you sniffing my hair?" You mutter, and he chuckles softly - his thumbs digging into your sides.

"Maybe. You smell nice" That makes you laugh.

[cloudlessly-light]

Hi. Can you write something about Emily being obsessed with Aarons arms pls …

Title:  Seems you cannot be replaced (Chapter 5/7)   Summary: It shouldn’t have happened, but they were drunk. It shouldn’t have happened but it felt right. It shouldn’t have happened but now it has. It shouldn’t have happened now they have to deal with it.   

Or, Emily always leaves before he wakes up, but she always leaves a note. Word Count:  3,3k Rating:  Explicit Warnings: Smut, oral, dirty talk, feels

“I’m sorry.” She whispers it in the quiet elevator the next morning as they’re getting ready to leave.

He’s standing in front of her, back turned. They’re alone and Emily wants to disappear. She hadn’t counted on them being alone so quickly, hadn’t expected not to give them both some more time to digest that she left him. Again.

Guilt was seeping through her body, like every nerve was set ablaze by regret and had been ever since she wrote her message only a few hours before.

“Aaron?” She tries softly and reaches for him, but the second her hand lands on his upper arm he takes a step forward.

“I don’t need an apology.” He says just moments before the doors open and reveals the team standing in the lobby, already waiting for them bags in hand. “I need you to give me some time. You know what I want, how I feel, if you can’t give me that then you need to give me some time.”

She knows he’s right, she knows that she’s the one that’s hurting him. So she sucks in a long breath as he walks away. It doesn’t matter that she knows that she’s made a mistake, not when she could hear the heartbreak in his voice, could see the hurt in his eyes.

It was her choice, and now she’d has to live with the consequences.

*

“Hey, Prentiss. You good?” Derek’s familiar voice comes from behind her. It’s been a few days since Texas, since that night and Emily knows that the team’s picked up on something. She’s been tired, easily irritated in a way that she normally wasn’t.

“Yeah. Just a bad week.” She turns in her chair and forces a smile that she hopes looks genuine. “Not enough sleep, you know how it goes.”

“Is it-” He stops himself, eyes flittering quicky to the bruise that’s still on her wrist, finger shaped blues, greens and yellows coloring her skin. “Is it because of the case? Because of-”

“No this has nothing to do with the case.” She cuts him off and she can tell that Derek knows he’s overstepped. “I’m fine Morgan, really.” She stands up and squeezes his shoulder. “But thank you for caring.” Her voice was genuine now, because as much as she didn’t want her friends to meddle in her life, she appreciated that they cared.

“Anytime, Princess.”

*

It’s not even a week later and they’re flying to New York. Things are still strained between them, clipped words and sharp sentences that she doesn’t mind because she knows that Aaron, just like her, aren’t granted the privilege to put physical space between each other. He’s hurting and trying to cope the best he can. So she gives him that.

The second she hears about Kate Joyner she feels annoyed, the subtle dig Dave makes, the knowing looks between JJ and Spencer, it all bugs her. Jealousy she knows she has no right to feel rooting in her stomach and stays there. It doesn’t help that the woman is stunning, a copy of his ex-wife and Emily forces a joke to JJ but all she wants is to drag Aaron out of the office the blonde had just dragged him into.

The jealousy doesn’t go away, even if she manages to subdue it in between fired shots and detective Sam Cooper who she’s seen right through. But that didn’t mean that she didn’t enjoy the banter, the easiness of it. It also didn’t hurt that he was easy on the eyes.

And then the unsub stops mid-chase and shoots him, so she fires back and for a split second everything stops.

Her mind is still reeling as Cooper is being driven off in an ambulance, his blood still on her hands. Aaron is there, he shows up with Joyner but his eyes are on her and she can tell that he’s looking to see if she’s hurt, a slight franticness to him as he does. But she’s okay, gives him a nod and then he continues to talk to Dave and Spencer.

When they regroup it all makes sense. They aren’t dealing with a group of unsubs, they’re dealing with terrorists.

There’s been an explosion, and everything is chaos. There’s been an explosion and she’s been driving like a maniac to find her team. There’s been an explosion and Aaron isn’t there. Aaron isn’t there.

She can’t think about anything else, can’t think about anything other than that he is gone and she knows in her gut that something is wrong. Then Penelope tells them what’s happened and she breathes a sigh of relief because he’s okay, even as her body is filled with disgust because Kate is hurt, badly. She knows she shouldn’t feel relief, but she does because Aaron wasn’t in the car, he isn’t dead.

She’s the first one to say that she’s going to the hospital, she needed to see him, needed to make sure he was still alive.

“I’m fine.”

She hears his voice just as a doctor pushes back a curtain and she follows him quickly.

“Where are my clothes, please?”

“Lay down.”

The sound of her voice seems to surprise him just enough to make him stop.

“I said, lay down and let them do their job.” She says again, staring him down as her arms cross over her chest. To her own surprise he listens.

“Can you give us a minute?” She turns to the doctor who nods, seemingly more than happy that someone else would take over. Once they’re alone she stands planted at the foot of the gurney, glaring at him and he glares right back.

“Has anything happened since the blast?” He asks and she feels rage curse through her.

“You could have died.” She ignores the way her voice shakes but knows that he hears it.

“Emily-”’

“No, Aaron no.” She cuts him off and he sits up, his feet already on the floor before she manages to push him in the chest to keep him from getting up. It doesn’t hurt him, barely makes him budge but he stays sitting on the edge of the bed. “You could have died tonight and we are still in this mess.” A single tear falls down her cheek and he carefully wipes it away.

“But I didn’t.” He says softly and she fights a sob that wants to erupt. “I didn’t die.”

“What if I- fuck Aaron I didn’t know- all I could think about.” She starts her sentence over and over. This isn’t the time or the place, she knows that. But she also knows that not telling him how she felt was impossible, not after having thought that she’d lost him.

He seems to realize too, his eyes gentle and warm as he waits for her to tell him what they both knew, what they had been fighting for weeks now.

“I didn’t.” He whispers and closes her eyes tight, like she’s trying to rid herself of the memories. “I’m right here, I didn’t die.”

“You could have.” She repeats and his warm, large hands move to gently hold her hips, the simple touch nudging her the last bit to say what she needed. “I-I can’t lose you. I’m falling in love with you.”

For a few seconds he stays completely silent, eyes on her, face almost an unreadable and she thinks that she’s too late. But then he smiles.

“So what I needed to do was to almost get blown up for you to admit your feelings?” His words make her chuckle, even as a few more tears fall from her eyes.

“You’re such an ass.”

When they kiss it’s soft, a promise of more and for those few seconds, nothing existed but them.

But of course they’re in the middle of a terrorist attack, Kate has died, and they don’t have time for much more. The team shows up, and as they’re putting the last few pieces together Derek, as brave as he is, drives off with a bomb in a way that Emily would later call stupid.

“I saved all of us.” He defends as they all get ready to leave for the airport the next day. Except Emily and Aaron, they’re driving back.

“Yeah, you’re still and idiot.” She teases just as Aaron walks out and gives her a nod.

“Hey, you’re sure you want to drive back to Washington? I could do it.” Derek offers and she smiles because he has no idea just how much she wants to be alone with Aaron right now.

“I’m good Morgan. I’ll see you at the office.”

When she gets in the driver’s seat, Aaron is already seated in the passenger seat.

“Ready to get going?” She asks and he nods with a smile.

“Did you tell him?” He gestures to Derek who’s about to get into the car and drive away.

“No, let’s keep this between us. For a while.” She feels his warm hand on her thigh and she places her own over his and gives his hand a squeeze.

*

Three weeks later

They’ve been together only for a few weeks when Emily wakes up with Aaron’s strong arm around her middle. They had spent almost every night together, getting to know each other as more than friends and colleagues and she came to find that it was easy to differentiate Aaron from Hotch. She wakes up before him, something that was rare but she loved when she got to enjoy him as he relaxed against her.

She let her eyes drift over his strong arm, the comfort of the slight heaviness something she’s gotten used to. She looked over his arm, from where his fingers twitched slightly as he slept, to the dark hair starting low on his wrist that she can’t help but to gently trace with her finger. His muscle jumped and she knew he was waking up so she turned from where she was lying on her side.

“Morning sweetheart.” He mumbled, voice rough from sleep and she couldn’t believe that he was this effortlessly sexy. Still couldn’t believe that she had fought this for as long as she had.

“Good morning.” She smiled as he pressed a lazy smile against the crook of her neck where he had buried his face. “It’s still early, you can keep sleeping.”

“Or, I could do this instead.” He already sounds more awake, lips trailing from her neck to her jaw and then he’s kissing her as he shifts and she feels all of him pressing against her. He’s hard against her thigh and she whimpers slightly against his lips.

“I never thought I’d meet someone with a higher sex drive than me.” She teases and he hums in between kisses that are getting more heated as his hands start to move down her body.

They fuck lazily, enjoying each other until he’s coming deep inside of her as she grinds on top off him.

Later she finds herself watching him again. He’s making her breakfast, wearing nothing but dark green boxers that hang low on his hips and she’s almost taken back by how delicious he looks. She once again finds herself looking at his arms, how the strong muscle is hidden under soft skin, watches the veins as he sits beside her, how the coffee cup looks tiny in his large hand.

“What?” He asks, catching her not so subtle gawking with a teasing smirk.

“Can’t I enjoy the view?” Her words make him blush, and it’s another thing she loved about him. He had no idea just how gorgeous he was.

“What do you want to do today?” He changes the subject and she shrugs as her hand lands on his forearm.

“I don’t know, we could stay at home? Relax for once?” She traces a finger through the fine hair covering his arm, eyes fastened on it.

“Or, you could meet Jack?”

That made her look at him so fast he almost laughs.

“Already?” They had talked about it, but she had figured that it would be months before Aaron was ready for that. “You don’t think it’s too soon?”

“No.” It’s his turn to shrug. “I mean unless you’re planning on ditching me anytime soon?” He winks at her as her mouth opens and closes repeatedly. “I’m only kidding.” He stamps a kiss to her lips. “If you’re not ready to meet him, then that’s okay, it is soon. I just want him to meet my girlfriend.”

“That’s the first time you’ve said that.” She smiles, big and toothy and he chuckles.

“That you’re my girlfriend?” When she nods he moves to gently hold her neck, pulling her forward. “Of course you’re my girlfriend, Emily.”

She smiles into a kiss and when they break apart there’s not a doubt in her mind. She wants the man in front of her, she wants him forever.

“Call Haley and ask if it’s okay.”

*

That same night she’s coming into the kitchen just as Aaron takes the chicken out of the oven, hair still wet from her shower, body wrapped in a bathrobe. She was tired, but it wasn’t tired in the way you were in you slept too little or were too stressed, no she was tired in the way you were when you had spent hours with a three-year-old. It was the kind of tired she didn’t mind, because Jack was worth it.

“So let me be the first to say, Jack adores you.” Aaron says as she stretches, her hands high above her head.

“I adore him too. He’s such a great kid.” She goes to hug him from behind and presses a kiss to his shoulder. “But am I a horrible person if I say that I’m happy that it’s just us tonight?”

“No, you’re not.” He’s smiling when he turns around to face her. “Did you have something in mind though?” When her eyebrow raised and she gives him a look, his hands grip her a little tighter. “What about dinner?”

“I’m not hungry, at least not for food.” She removes her bathrobe and reveals the lace underwear set she’s wearing.

“Emily.” Her name is a breathy gasp and when she falls to her knees in front of him, Aaron moves to lean against the counter.

She holds his gaze as she gets his jeans off then presses a kiss against his bulge over his underwear. When she feels him jerking against her lips she smirks.

“Take off your shirt.” She says and he immediately complies. “You’re so fucking sexy.” She looks over his body while pulling down his boxers. “And all mine.” When she takes him in her mouth his knees buckle for a second.

“Fuck baby.” He husks out, fingers easily finding their way to her still damp hair. She moans softly around him, the feeling of his fingers gently tugging and gripping making her shiver as she slowly works her way down his shaft.

He’s getting harder with every second, each swipe of her tongue and every suck making him delirious with want. Then she looks back up at him, eyes hazy in that familiar way, pupils blown wide.

“So good.” He whispers and her cheeks tint pink at the praise. “I swear you were made for me, every fucking hole.” His fingers tighten in her hair and she whimper around him. Her thighs clench as she starts to bop her head faster.

She takes him as deep as she can, ignores how she chokes and how her eyes turn glassy as she works his cock over. When his hips start to jerk against her face, she wraps a fist around him and starts to pump. She pulls off him only to suck in a couple of breaths and then she takes him back in her mouth. Her tongue swirls around the tip of him as her hand twists his base and Aaron groans above her.

“I want you to come in my mouth.” She pants and his jaw clenches as he swallows hard. “I want it all.” Spit hangs from her bottom lip and he wipes it with his thumb before sucking that same thumb between his lips.

“Make me come, then.” He smirks and she has him in her mouth only a few moments later. She pushes forward, keeps going until her nose presses against his pelvis and Aaron groans. Her throat contracts around him, her eyes are glassy as she looks up at him, and then she pulls back, only to do the same thing again and he thinks he’s going to lose his mind.

He tugs her hair again and then he fists it hard, making her gasp around the tip of him. She knows what he wants, so she sits back on her heels and opens her mouth wide. When he starts to thrust against her face, she can’t resist and moves a hand between her legs. She’s soaked, the fabric of her underwear damp and she moans quietly around his cock as he keeps pushing his hips against her.

“Don’t come.” He grits out, almost overwhelmed by the pleasure of her mouth and the visual of her on her knees touching herself. “You’re going to wait until I’m ready to fuck you.”

Emily nods, even as her fingers are circling her clit faster. She can tell that he’s getting close, hips stuttering, filthy words fall from his mouth and she’s pretty sure she’s dripping onto the floor by now. Her eyes move over him, from his face, to his chest, to his arms. She can see the muscle in his forearm tense as he grips her hair tighter. She knows how strong his arms are, how easily he pins her down or throws her around and she whines at the thought.

“Gonna come.” His hushed words bring her eyes back to his face. “You ready for it?”

She nods frantically, stops touching herself and instead focuses everything on pleasing him. He tenses just as he grunts and then the salty taste of him lands on her waiting tongue. His hips jerk as she sucks on his tip, her hand coming up to jerk the rest of him, drawing out the pleasure until he’s backing away, still panting.

“Jesus Christ Em.” He leans against the counter, hands gripping it to keep steady before he helps her up to stand. He pulls her into a kiss, pushes his tongue against hers and groans at the taste of him that still lingers. His hand moves into her underwear and when he feels the slick of her he can’t help to hum. “My my, such a messy girl.”

“Aaron.” She whimpers, her hands digging into the muscle of his upper arms. “Need you.”

“Then why would you make me come in that pretty mouth of yours?” He teases as he turns them around until he can bend her over the counter. “Don’t worry, I’m going to take care of you sweetheart.”

He makes her come three times before he’s even inside of her, by the time they land in a messy tangle of limbs Emily’s exhausted and sated. She falls asleep with her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

The next morning Aaron wakes up to an empty bed and for a second he feels panicked, but then he hears Emily humming to herself in the bathroom and his eyes move to the note that’s on her pillow.Don’t think the notes stop just cause I’m your girlfriend now. Em

[veeluvss]

Hii can u pls do the men of the bau reactions to the readers self harm thank u :)

⚠️this post contains topics of sh, blood and depression. please read at your own risk :) reach out if you need help.

how the bau men react to you self harming

spencer -

spencer knows about self harm from his drug addiction and will definitely be sympathetic towards you and the situation. "Hey," he'll whisper, kneeling down beside you. "would you like some help?" you refuse, softly shaking your head and he nods - unsure on how to proceed. "Can I get someone to help?" "No," you reply and he nods. he goes for a few moments then returns with a first aid kit, some water and a sweet treat for you.

derek-

derek instantly drops to your side, taking away your supplies. you try to fight him nd kick him away but he restrains you, holding you close to him. you begin to cry, overwhelmed and he rocks you, helping you and holding you as your body breaks down. "I've got you," he'll reassure you. when you've calmed down, he'll help you clean up and regularly check up on you. he takes you out for coffee and icecream when you’re stressed.

hotch -

hotch will silently take the thing you’re using off you and dispose of it before coming over and putting your hair behind your hair.

“hey, listen to me. where going to get you cleaned up and then we’ll have a little talk in my office,” he’ll tell you and you’ll only cry in response. you don’t want to talk to him about any of it but he reassures you it’ll be okay.

“this way, we’ll make you feel better. things will take time but we got this.”

rossi-

“hey kid. hey,” he’ll say instantly falling beside you. “let’s calm down. deep breaths.” he’ll take it off you and hold you close before giving your head a soft kiss.

“you and me,” he’ll say softly. “pasta. at my place tonight, i’ll pick you up at 5. we can chat. dad to daughter,” he’ll pat you on the gently and give you another gentle kiss before heading to get you a first aid kit.

[therantsofawriterrr]

The Umbrella Academy Final Season: My Version

Part Six: We Put The Extra in Extra Ordinary

Overview: With their powers restored, the gang gets new information, a new friend and decides to go on a road trip.

TW: mature language, mention of throwing up once, tell me if i missed anything Pairings in the chapter: a little bit of Diego x Lila, a teeny bit of Five x OC A/N: hello, first of all, tysm for all the love you've given this series, I'm thinking of opening up a taglist for this series, if anyone wants in, pls comment, tysm again.

Masterlist

There were specific ways that the Hargreeves got to know that their powers were back.

Diego was the first one to notice. He hadn't slept properly the previous night because he was being too alert for some reason. He was driving the mail van, and threw a box at a house, landing it correctly in the mailbox. He whipped his head to the road in disbelief, looking at the house again before going back to get an envelope. He looked at the address and threw it at the window, sending it straight through the mail slot.

"Yeah!" he cheered, with a fist pump, going back down to get more envelopes, throwing them out the window to get them all into the right houses with the utmost accuracy. He was groaning in excitement, happy tears welling in his eyes at his aim being perfect.

Next was Five, who just felt very tired, and he felt like someone was somehow searing his bones. He was watching the last locations of the Thibedeaus in his office, drinking his black coffee when Derek came in, with their files filled with their histories and everything. He placed it on the table with his lips set in an angry line.

"I better not get into trouble for this, Mr. Five," he muttered.

"You won't," Five mumbled back, too swept in the pain in his body. "Don't worry."

He felt the ache in his legs intensify, so he stood up, deciding to read the files that way. As soon as he did, though, his head spun and he stumbled forward, his eyes closing for a split second as he saw a flash of purple. When he opened them, he found himself in a weird subway.

His eyes flicked around the grey walls and the ticket counter rods. "What the..." he softly let out, when he was sucked back in, seeing a flash of purple once again, and then falling back into his chair in his office with a grunt.

Derek came back in, as he groaned, his back pain heightened. "You feeling okay, Mr. Five?" he asked with concern.

'No, I don't think I am," he said weakly. "Tell the boss I'm taking a sick day."

He felt like throwing up when he took his coat and went out the door, but the brisk, cold air outside grounded him a bit.

Allison was in an audition, trying her best to play the part and ignore the mounting headache. The guys looked a bit skeptical, but she was desperate.

Please, just take me in. Even a minor role's fine.

There was a golden ring around her pupils all of a sudden and the all the men's eyes changed, turning all white before they grinned and clapped.

"That was amazing, Mrs. Chestnut! You're perfect for a role we have on the movie. It's a small one, but you'll be good for it."

Allison froze, stunned into a stupor before she excused herself and ran out the building in a frenzy.

All in all, their powers led to a problem, and the old group chat got active again. They'd made it so that they could stay in touch with each other, but that hadn't worked out. Though, at that moment, it was a godsend. They decided to meet in the Hargreeves Home For Wayward Boys, a place that they'd used to frequent if they'd needed to let some anger out.

It was probably supposed to be a condemned building, but they guessed it wasn't because finally, it belonged to the old man himself.

Diego and Lila were arguing loudly when Viktor had reached the place, which was filled with dust.

"Someone explain what the hell is going on here, quick," he demanded, silencing the couple.

"Well, Viktor, that's what we're all trying to figure out," Five said dryly.

"Luther, hey, you alright man,?" Diego asked, while Luther clutched at his gut.

"Yeah, I just... I don't know it feels like body's burning inside out," he choked out.

"Yeah, same, I feel like someone injected motor oil into my veins," Five said, as everyone except Klaus agreed.

"It's so strange. Because I, for once, feel fantastic," Klaus stated with a smile. "Sure, I woke up to see about a hundred ghosts just hanging around, but they were very nice. Went out after just a little bit of small talk."

"There are ghosts in my house?" Allison asked, lifting her head from the edge of the couch in surprise.

"Yeah, apparently there were a lot of suicides in the basement because there used to be a really, really bad ghosty living there, but I drove him out, don't worry," Klaus said, batting a hand dismissively with a reassuring smile. He had found the aggressive spirit in the bathroom and had just wiggled his fingers to get them out.

"Oh, you think you got problems?" Lila asked, a panicked edge in her voice. "Look at this,"

"Wait, no!" Diego yelled before twin green laser beams erupted out of her eyes, going through the area of the house, causing everyone to cower under their arms. The beams jaggedly cut through a few things as Lila blindly spun halfway.

When she stopped at the window, she blinked, pinching her eyes closed and then opening them again as Diego stared at her with a mixture of adoration and frustration.

"She broke our kitchen cabinet with that," he rasped.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled and when she started spinning back to her original position, the lasers started up again, and she stumbled, like the lasers were too heavy for her head.

"Turn it off!" Luther screamed.

"I don't know how!" She screamed back.

There was a small blip, and then her lasers were gone. Everyone in that room panted, their ears ringing, as Lila's eyes stung worse than the time when someone had used hot pepper sauce to defend themselves.

She sighed as her vision seemed to come back, the green flashy haze disappearing. "There," she declared, as Diego got back up and everyone got to their seats. She started to notice the damage she'd caused. "Oh, sorry about that."

"Be careful," Five told her.

"How do you do that?" Diego asked curiously.

"A gun to my head, I couldn't tell you," she replied, still trying to blink the sting away.

"Y'know, if Dad finds out about this he's gonna ask us to pay him," Luther speculated.

"I don't give a shit about Dad. I want answers now!" Viktor declared angrily, as raw, glowing, orange power thrummed around him, surrounding him in a small whirlwind.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," everyone exclaimed, holding their hands out to calm him down as Klaus instructed him to breathe.

Ben burst in, looking panicked and frenzied. He was holding his shirt from the back, and when he let it go, two tentacles fell out. Everyone stared at it as Ben looked around.

He trudged forward sadly, moving toward the couch. Allison, who was sitting there, moved out of his way as he moved the tentacles and sat down.

"What is with the tails?" Diego asked, being the first to break the stunned silence.

"I don't know, they won't go back in!" he exclaimed with irritation.

Luther meddlingly touched it with a finger, which prompted it to hit him in the face. "Oh!" he exclaimed, touching his face softly. "God. Why is it cold?"

"The real question is, why would you touch it?" Lila asked.

"No, it's, how the fuck do I have my tentacles back?" Ben said. "How are our powers back?"

"At least, Klaus isn't a human sippy cup anymore," Five stated dryly.

"Oh, wait, yeah," Allison jolted. "Klaus. Do we like, need to keep an eye on you or something?"

"Nah. I have my powers under control now," Klaus said, sitting down beside Ben.

"You sure?" Diego asked skeptically.

"Yeah, I'm not going back to that old Klaus. I like this Klaus. 'Hey, he collects coupons. He's frugal, respectable, reliable,'" he stated proudly. "And most importantly, he's a Klaus that Claire likes. And trusts. And looks up to."

Ben's stomach started rumbling, as he started to gag a bit and threw up straight on the floor. Everyone exclaimed in horror and concern as Klaus pat his back.

Suddenly Five's phone rang, and Viktor slapped his hands to his ears immediately. Upon accepting, Clementine's voice filtered through.

"Where are you?" she asked, huffing a bit, probably walking somewhere.

"Tina, I can't, right now, alright?" he said, about to cut the call.

"I went back to Gene and Jean's house!" she announced, albeit in a soft voice. "And I found something."

"Yeah, well, I took a sick day," he told her.

"Me too. Look, you need to see this, alright? Just give me your loca-"

Clementine stopped speaking and walking, staring at the guy who'd just passed her with a stupefied anger, feeling the phantom lingering of his groping hand on her behind.

"Sorry, sweetheart," he drawled with a predatory grin. "Couldn't resist that ass."

Her anger only increased. "Who the hell is that?" Five asked.

"Just hold for a second," she said plainly, as she swung her leg back and the forward, hitting the guy straight between legs. The man grunted, falling to his knees.

"Sorry, sweetheart." she said with a sweet smile. "Couldn't resist kicking those balls."

Then, she continued walking, restarting her sentence, "Yeah, so just send me your location and I'll get there."

About fifteen minutes later, she exited her car, ran to the door and knocked, waiting to be let in.

Five opened the door to see her all disheveled with a cut on her head. It was still bleeding, flowing down the side of her face and dripping onto her hoodie. His eyes softened immediately with concern.

"What the fuck happened?" he asked, pulling her inside the building by her arm.

"Huh?" she asked, before realization dawned. "Oh. That. Yeah, I got into a fight this morning. I'm fine."

She walked past him and opened her mouth to speak when she froze, seeing as there were other people there.

Five closed the door and walked to stand beside her with his hands in his pockets. "So? What'd you find?"

"Uh. There's people here," she declared, returning Lila's smile and wave.

"Just tell me," he said impatiently.

"Fine," she muttered exasperatedly. She took a jar out of one pocket, and a paper from another. The jar made his eyes widen though, as it did with the whole family.

"What the fuck?" Viktor said first.

"Guys, is it just me or are those two teeny tiny things flying around inside looking like the stuff that's not supposed to exist here?" Klaus asked, pointing a finger.

"No, but what the fuck, though?" Lila asked, mirroring Viktor.

"Where'd you get this?" Five asked, taking the jar in his hands and inspecting it.

"Gene and Jean's house," she replied. "It was there on a table. Trust me, I was just as surprised."

"What's that paper about?" he inquired.

"It has an address of this dry cleaner that's in my area. I know the guy, but he started acting weird yesterday. I think he might have gotten into the cult."

He took the paper from her hand, fingers brushing hers for a second before her eyes went black and she stumbled back a little.

"Whoa, whoa, what the hell?" Allison said just as her eyes returned to normal.

"Christ, Five. You need therapy," she said.

"Okay, what just happened?" Diego asked.

"My powers acted up," she said. "For the fifth damn time this morning."

"Whoa, wait, hold the phone for a minute here," Lila interjected. "You have powers?"

"Yeah. Look, I'll tell you more, but we need to get to the dry cleaners fast. We might get more info, plus, I really don't want that sweet guy to get caught up in all that cult business."

"I'm holding you to that. But, are you saying that the Keepers might actually have something to do with this?" Lila asked, gesturing vaguely to all of them.

"Seems like it," Five murmured. "We need to go to this dry cleaners to get more information."

"Agreed. I'll drive," Diego said, Lila behind him as he started walking. Five started going out with him, Clementine following closely. "Let's roll, mofos."

"Come on, let's get him out of here, quick," Klaus said as he helped Ben up, holding his tentacles up.

"Watch the tentacles." Ben murmured.

Allison started going too, as Luther hissed as he got into an upright position, seeing Viktor being the only one left with him.

"Hey," he said. "You okay?"

Viktor shook his head as he ran a hand down his face. "No, not really."

"I know. Come on, let's figure this out together," he said as Viktor nodded and went out with him.

Another few minutes later, they were at the dry cleaners, Clementine exiting first and running towards the shop, her wound now covered up with a pink band aid with flowers on it.

Diego and Lila were arguing again as they entered but, they soon went quiet when they saw it was empty.

"Mr. Grossman?" Clementine called out, a tinge of desperation in her voice. "Sy? You here?"

"Well. Looks like nobody's here," Allison declared.

"Or, somebody got to him," Five speculated, getting a paper of a clip, looking at it. Clementine looked at it over his shoulder with her eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"Look at this, New Grumpson, Maine," Five announced, showing it to Diego.

"The hell's in New Grumpson, Maine?" Diego asked.

"Maybe the Keeper's main branch or something," Lila answered.

"Or maybe that's where our dry cleaner scampered off to,' Allison contemplated.

"Or maybe this is all one big setup," Viktor declared.

"No way. This is Sy," Clementine said. "I know him. He isn't that kind of guy."

"Well, there's only one way to find out," Five said decisively.

"Hell yeah," Diego said, taking out his keys. "Road trip."

"Are we really doing this?" Viktor asked wearily as they went out the shop.

"Hell yeah, we're doing this," Diego replied.

"You do realize we have three small children, yeah?" Lila asked dryly.

"Yeah, well they're going to be at your parent's house for Christmas, remember? We'll just talk to them on the phone, tell them what we're doing, and we'll be set, okay?"

"Yes," she said, before pulling him back again. "But wait, that's not the point."

"Listen, listen, listen. We spend all day, every day with our kids. I mean, even you parents tell us to go have some fun somewhere while the kids are with them. Christmas is the only break we get to have our own time, right? So, come on, we need to find out what this is. I want you to come with me, all right?" Diego finished, holding her face up tenderly at the end of his speech.

She sighed, looking at him cutely. "Well, that does sound nice."

"Right? Just you and me. Like the old days. And... we'll be able to call our kids too."

After a few more seconds of contemplating, she agreed. "Okay."

They got in the car, with Clementine on the back with Luther and Ben, as Lila, Allison and Klaus sat in the front. Five sat in the passenger seat while Diego drove.

As they got on to the driveway, their only thought was, what could go wrong?

And well, we all know, that when it came to the Hargreeves? Everything could go wrong.

Another A/N: Again, i'm glad y'all love this series haha. Also, comment if you want in on the taglist <3 Likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!!! Tysm for reading❤️🩷💜

[liberacesghost]

Day 6 -- Person A Knows Person B's Coffee Order

let's try that again! just wanna shout out @doctorsteths-fluffyfeb again, because i'm having a good time writing, but also having a good time reading. so if you're all not on that shit, get into it!!

warnings: cussing cause i literally cannot; mentions of them on a case but nothing graphic

pairing: hotch x reader sorta (use of y/n) they're not actually together and they don't actually get together, but you'll see

word count: 769

a/n: i know how super late i am pls forgive me <33

Coffee was the lifeblood of the BAU. The driving force that kept them going the long hours they had to work. The sweet nectar that fueled their bodies and minds.

And this coffee at the tiny mid-western precinct they were currently at fucking sucked. And that was putting it mildly. 

“I can’t do this. It’s been days and I need decent coffee in my system”, you say standing up. “I need a break anyway.”

The case was going…slow. Well, more accurately the team’s progress was going slow. The unsub was decidedly not slow. He was leaving a trail of bodies quicker than you could process the evidence. And yet, you were no closer to actually catching him. 

Frustrated by not only the lack of breaks in the case, but the added insult of shitty coffee was almost unbearable. 

“I’ll make a quick run - let me know what you all want”, you say to the room at large as you put on your coat, which includes Rossi, Derek, Spencer, and Emily. 

After getting their drinks all written down, you head to ask Hotch and JJ. You find them in an office that’s being repurposed for the BAU’s benefit. 

“Hey guys”, you say hanging onto the doorframe. “I’m going on a coffee run. Do you want anything?”

“Oh, tea would be amazing, thanks”, JJ says with a smile. 

Hotch nods and opens his mouth to speak, but before he can, you cut him off pointing a finger at him, “A large black coffee, no cream, 1 sugar. I know.” Then you’re out of the door before Hotch can do much more than nod again, quite uselessly. 

He’s staring into the space you just were, mouth slightly open. He didn’t think anybody paid attention to his usual order. He didn’t think you paid attention. He’d be an absolute liar if he said his heart didn’t clench almost painfully in his chest. The thought of someone listening and picking up on what he likes – well, not just somebody, but you. It’s enough to keep him from doing anything useful for a lot longer than he’d like to admit. Hoping beyond hope that his cheeks were not pinkening. 

It’s not until JJ pointedly coughs that Aaron is snapped out of it, head jerking towards the blonde. She gives him a knowing smirk, before going back to the notepad in front of her. Purposefully (and very professionally) not mentioning the coloring occurring on his face and his ears. 

Some time later, JJ has moved back to the conference room leaving Hotch alone in “his” office to scribble away at the endless reports. 

Lost in the writing and rewriting he’s felt he’s been constantly doing since he got here, he doesn’t hear footsteps approaching. It’s not until he hears the soft thud of the cardboard coffee cup on his desk, that he stops. He looks up to see you looking at him with a soft, almost shy smile. 

He looks at you like he’s seeing you for the first time.

Your timid smile. The way your eyes meet his before quickly flitting away. Teeth worrying your bottom lip. 

How he never saw it before is absolutely beyond him.

“Here you go, boss”, you say softly. 

You both just stare at each other, restrained smiles on your faces. 

The seconds turn into minutes, before you shake your head as if you’re clearing your thoughts away like an etch-a-sketch. “I also got some snacks if you’d like”, thumb pointing over your shoulder. “They’re in the conference room.”

Aaron is too stunned to say or do anything. This sudden realization that maybe, just maybe, you could feel the same way as him is overwhelming. 

When he doesn’t respond, you give him a jerky nod of your head before turning around and making your way out the room. 

Hotch says your name so softly, you turn around quickly, almost in alarm. 

Remembering that they’re on an active case and he’s still the goddamn unit chief, he catches himself before he says something incredibly telling. 

“Thank you”, he says instead. 

You look at him, brows furrowing for a brief second, eyes roaming his face and posture for something. Something he left unsaid, something he was going to say, something you wanted him to say – you weren’t sure. So you simply look him in the eyes, a small almost smirk on your face, and give him a nod before making your way back to the conference room. Leaving Hotch in his makeshift office alone with the coffee you got him, the swirling thoughts inside his head, and the ache in his chest.

[renmackree]

Trick or treat! (pls be a treat!!)

Happy Halloween and blessed Samhain to you!

I suppose I might have a treat up my sleeve. It's from a future BDSM WIP and it is VERY nsfw so be warned.

The way his arms rippled as he fucked Stiles' mouth - his twitching lips, flexing neck and concentration of those green-gold eyes. as Stiles was choking on his massive dick, he knew he was going to be sore in the morning. But who the fuck cared?

When Derek finally came, it was a flood. Derek's cock was a force of nature and his deep, animalistic roar made stiles' ass lift like the sub he was. Everyone in the club had to have known Derek had just orgasmed.

Stiles' mouth, his throat, and his belly were so full of Derek; no one could have swallowed all of it, but Stiles was going to try. It was so thick and so warm as it dripped down his chin, chest, and onto his weeping cock. Stiles was marked as Derek's sub inside and out.

"I'm not done with you yet," Derek growled softly. "Come here." The look in his eyes said Stiles was going to remember this night forever, just like he had asked.

Derek lifted him like he weighed nothing, carrying him from the floor to a small bed in the corner, past the whips and chains and paddles that Derek promised they would use later. Tonight, Stiles was just getting used to his cock. He was grateful, even half mast Stiles could hardly believe that had all been in his mouth.

Derek is hard again after one kiss, and as soon as Stiles' knees hit the bed he felt a shiver run from head to toe.

"Tell your Master what you want." It was a command, but also a gentle reminder that Stiles was ultimately the one with the power. If he asked for it slow, Derek would be slow. But Stiles didn't come to The White Rabbit to be treated nicely.

"Fuck me like a bitch," Stiles whispered. He heard Derek chuckle and felt himself pushed down with ass in the air and Derek's cock slowly circling his hole. He had taken dick before, but Derek's cock was so huge it took Stiles' breath away as it slid in.

Breathe, just relax, Stiles thought to himself as Derek grunted and pushed in harder - the Dominant was impatient. Stiles whimpered and mewled as the cock slammed all the way into him.

"Color?" Derek asked, pausing for confirmation. Stiles could barely hold himself back, words tumbling out like a waterfall.

"Green! Green, green, green, please! Green!"

Without pause, without hesitation, Derek fulfilled Stiles' wish - he began to make Stiles his bitch. Each thrust caused Stiles' eyes to roll up and finally realize that his ass belonged to Derek now. The dominant was too big, too rough, and nothing else would feel as good as being bred so thoroughly, so deeply.

Heaven was being crushed beneath 200 lbs. of a sweating, musky, dominant named Derek Hale.

[eddiesbug]

guard dog [b.heelshire]

summary: your ex-boyfriend tries to take you away from brahms. chaos ensues.

fandom: horror (the boy - 2016)

pairing: brahms heelshire x fem!reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: this is VERY DARK, please proceed with caution. death, murder, very very heavy descriptions of stabbing and blood, dark!reader, brief mentions of kidnapping, just all the gory stuff

note: i am so excited to post this omg i know it’ll probably flop but i had SO MUCH FUN writing it!!! pls let me know if u like it and as always, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

“Brahms…” you call, a soft and playful lilt in your voice as you walk across the quiet mansion; you presume that Brahms is either asleep or lurking within the walls until a shuffle followed by a gurgle comes from the direction of the kitchen. A shiver runs down your spine as you follow the noise. You call out again, louder this time.

“Brahms.”

He heaves a deep, ragged breath as you enter the kitchen and you gasp softly. In front of you stands Brahms, covered in a thin sheen of blood and sweat, clutching a massive bread knife and looming over a barely recognisable corpse. The porcelain mask covers his features but you can imagine his face contorted with rage, thick brows furrowed and teeth bared in a snarl. The flush that creeps down his neck and into his chest and ears tells you exactly how he’s feeling without you exchanging a single word. You glance down at the dead body, your eyes widening slightly. You’re not surprised, per-se, but rather touched that he’d go to these lengths for you. Before you met Brahms, you were squeamish, shying away from anything remotely gruesome. But living here with him… you’ve had to adapt.

“Is that Derek?”

Derek. Your piece of shit, toxic ex-boyfriend who had an obsession with you so strong he followed you out into the middle of the English countryside to try and drag you back into his life, even if you were kicking and screaming the whole way.

“Don’t be mad,” Brahms chokes, “He was trying to take you away from me. I don’t want you to go…” He stumbles into your arms, his massive frame engulfing you. The blood sticks to you but you press yourself into him regardless, prying the knife from his grip gently.

“I’m not mad,” you murmur, “You were just protecting me, sweet boy.” He nods frantically, his body crumpling. Cooing reassurances, you lower him to the kitchen floor, raking your fingers through his dark curls. He whimpers, the coldness of the mask seeping into your skin and making you shiver. Poor thing; he’d do anything to protect you, including die. He’s really not as scary as he looks - not to you anyway. His cardigan is doused in blood but he refuses to let you peel it from his body. Sighing, you sit against the cabinet, cupping his jaw. He melts into your touch, that high-pitched, childlike voice forcing its way out of him.

“Kiss?”

You smile, leaning forward until your nose presses against the cool hardness of the mask. You lock your lips with the ceramic, eyes fluttering closed. When he whines petulantly, you cock your head, feigning innocence.

“Oh, my boy wants a real kiss?” you ask, sticky hands flying to cover your mouth in over exaggerated shock.

“Please.”

Laughing, you push the mask up just enough to expose his plump lips and press your own to them; he lets out a little grunt, the dark curls sprouting from his chest tickling your exposed portions of skin. You stroke the pebbled flesh adorning his neck and face almost reverently, nipping at the sweet spot under his ear until he’s keening.

“There y’are,” you praise, pecking him one last time before sliding the mask back into place. “Such good manners.”

“Been practicing,” he mumbles, resting his forehead on your shoulder. This new side of him is such a stark contrast from his usual petulant - and at times, bratty - countenance.

Just as he begins to settle against you, there’s a thump and a crash from the front door and Henry, Derek’s best friend, hurtles into the kitchen. Brahms growls, springing up from the floor and swiping the enormous knife from where you left it on the counter.

“Brahms, wait!” You manage to keep a firm grasp on his blood soaked cardigan, drawing him back into you. He’s holding back significantly - he’s never so easy to restrain. Not that it’s your intention to hold him back; you know Henry has to die now, you just want to enjoy toying with him a little first. You fix your gaze on Henry.

“You’re an idiot for coming here. Even more stupid than I thought.”

Henry is stock still, eyes wide as saucers and glued to Derek’s disfigured corpse.

“What did you do to him, you bitch?” he seethes, although his voice wavers and cracks. His face is pallid, brows drawn together and he stifles a shake in his hands to mask his obvious terror. You click your tongue.

“You thought it’d be easy to come all the way out here to kidnap me? Take me back?” you ask, fists clenched at your sides. Derek and his little posse did always have a habit of underestimating you. “You thought he’d let you?” you scoff incredulously, cocking your head towards Brahms. His breaths are heaving and he shakes with a rage you can only begin to imagine the extent of. You giggle at how Brahms must look to Henry. How both of you must look. Covered in blood - Derek’s blood - deep, sticky and crimson, sharp and prominent against Brahms’ pale skin, the wicked glint of the knife taunting Henry. Goading him. Begging him to fight back just so it can plunge into him, slash away until he’s as deformed as his best friend.

“Why are you laughing?” Henry snaps, “Stop that! I’m not scared of your guard dog!”

You almost retch you’re laughing so hard, clutching Brahms’ bicep as tears spill from beneath your waterline and down your cheeks. The choked sounds pouring from your lips are weak and strained as you double over, wheezing. Brahms’ hands grasp under your armpits, lifting you back up to face him. He strokes your hair from your face frantically, nimble thumbs pushing the tears and creases from your cheeks.

“What is it?” Brahms murmurs, shoulders hunched to lower him to your height. The knife dangles from his fingers, just inches from your face, yet you don’t even flinch.

“I-I’m okay,” you hiccup, swaying slightly against his firm grasp. You give yourself a moment to breathe and compose yourself before you’re turning back to Henry and whispering in Brahms’ ear. “We can’t let him leave, baby.”

Brahms is on him before he can even blink; Henry thrashes underneath his weight, grunting with the fruitless effort of trying to escape.

“Don’t fight it,” you snicker, crouching until your nose touches Henry’s and you’re sharing breaths, “It’ll only make it worse.” Pinching his cheek and smearing claret across the smooth skin, you inhale sharply, tracing his lips with the very tip of your finger. “This is the last time you try to take advantage of me.”

The knife sinks into his chest with a slick squelch. Henry screams; Brahms jerks his arm rapidly, shaking him like a rabid dog until he goes slack. Again and again and again he rears back and buries the blade into him. Blood spatters onto the white walls, the linoleum floor, every visible surface is blemished with crimson. Brahms attacks him with an inhuman quality, a deep roar erupting from his chest every time he thinks about these men taking you away from him.

“She’s mine!” he screams.

When Henry is no longer recognisable, limp and far past dead, you pry him away.

“Shh, shh. I’m yours. I’m here. We’re safe, it’s just us.” you soothe, climbing into his lap. “I have you.” His arms squeeze your waist as he holds you flush to him, almost burrowing his way into your skin. You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing the slick red skin of his neck and collarbones; there’s so much blood. Is it bad that it turns you on a little? “You did so well. You protected me.”

“You’re mine.” He accentuates the statement with a sharp tug of your body, dropping the knife with a clatter and snaking his drenched arms beneath your hoodie.

“I’m yours. I’m all yours.” You kiss his head, nestling closer to him. “Yours.”

[jjtheresidentbaby]

If you feel comfortable, could i request a Derek Morgan x little reader where the reader goes to Derek in his hotel room like during a case cause they're stressed maybe because hotch or someone scolded them cause they did something reckless and they slipped that night thinking about it and just needed cg derek to make it better? If that makes any sense at all, if not, you can totally disregard this ask 😂

All Okay | Derek Morgan x Reader

a/n: Cg Derek is just unmatched, he’s so >> (also I’m working on all the requests I have so pls be patient, it’s all coming soon)

warnings: crying, anxiety, pet names, mentions of mean patrol cops

───°˖✧✿✧˖° ───

-

“Who is it?” Derek walks over to his hotel door when a knock comes softly against the wood, it’s only nine pm so it could be Spencer looking to play a game of chess or even Emily to go over the case details just one more time, but when Morgan throws the door open he’s met with you sniffling.

A soft plush toy held up to your chest tightly, signifying to him that you’re regressed, your eyes are red rimmed and filled with un-shed tears that instantly have Derek’s protectiveness spiking, he gets you pulled inside within seconds. Making sure the door locked before turning towards your shaking frame.

“Baby? Honey what’s going on?” A gentle hand on your cheek brings you from your thoughts, you blink towards Derek’s furrowed brow, finally a tear slides down your face.

“I- I didn’t mean to cause any problems earlier.” You sniffle with a messy wipe of your eyes.

The case had gone over almost without incident, then that stupid patrol cop insisted that you were messing up evidence. You weren’t. Your whole team knew it and Jj had tried to defend right beside Hotch, it was all for nothing, the officer was still angry and the only way you could fix it was muttering an apology that wasn’t real.

The rest of the day you spent in the precinct with Jj only made you more anxious, it had felt like every officer was staring at you, whispering behind your back about what had happened out in the field.

You had slipped as soon as you got into the hotel room you share with Emily, she couldn’t tell but you could and you needed Morgan. He’s the only one that can make this feeling building in your chest go away, he proves it right now, he’s rubbing your back soothingly and saying something as you shift to lean against his chest.

“That’s it baby, breathe, it’s okay, it’s all okay now.” It’s smooth and low, your eyes pull with sleep but you will yourself to turn and look up at Derek.

“I didn’t do anything wrong today.” You mumble out, pulling the stuffed toy closer to your chest, Morgan hums along and runs his hand push the loose hair out of your face.

“I know baby, it’s okay. Nobody on the team thinks you did anything wrong, that officer was the one who was wrong.” He assures.

“Can I stay here tonight?” Emily might ask where you are and this bed may be a tight squeeze but leaving Derek right now would only bring back all that anxiety you just escaped.

“Of course little one. Let’s go to bed, we have a long flight tomorrow.”

[teenwolffan-with-nolife]

Prompt 15 with Issac Lahey pls?

thanks for requesting!

You yawned, opening your eyes as you lay on the bus seat, before hearing a slight creak.

You looked up slightly, seeing Isaac walking out of the bus as you frowned slightly.

You looked at your watch, seeing it just past four in the morning.

The night has already been long with all the events that occurred, you were lucky no one had died tonight.

You knew with everything going on how stressed and depressed everyone was.

Isaac seemed the most hurt by it, even if he'd never say it.

He looked up to Derek a great amount, but now Derek was dead.

You decided to walk out of the bus to find him, seeing him resting his back on the bus tire.

"Hey," you whispered.

He looked up at you, wiping his face as you wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling a slight breeze as you sat next to him.

"Can't sleep either?" you asked.

He didn't reply, only nodded.

"I know there's a lot on your mind right now, if you want to talk I'm here," you said softly.

You pulled his head to your shoulder as he let out a shaky breath.

"I've been having these nightmares about my dad recently," he said softly.

You tensed, looking at him.

"What?" you shifted slightly to turn to him before he shook his head.

"I feel weak. Everything that happened tonight is just a reminder of that," he shook his head.

"Isaac, listen to me," you held his hands before looking up at him.

"You are one of the strongest, bravest people I have ever met. You're selfless, you help everyone, y-you can't-"

"I couldn't save Derek." you saw the tears in his eyes as you stroked his cheek.

"Derek isn't on you," you shook your head.

"He's my alpha. He took me in, he helped me. I owe it to him."

"Isaac, that's not true. You did the best you could. With everything you've been through, you're still here and that's something to be proud of. I'm sorry we couldn't save Derek, but that's not on you. At the end of the day, he made his decision when he grabbed onto Ennis. That's not your fault," you said.

He let out a sharp breath, you saw more tears fill his eyes as he cried softly.

"P-Please hold me," your arms were wrapped around him tightly as he buried his head in your chest.

You rocked him back and forth, pressing your lips against his forehead as he cried softly, holding onto you.

"Thank you for being here," he said softly.

You felt his body loosen slightly as he lay on your chest.

You could tell he fell asleep as you pressed your lips to his forehead softly.

Maybe laying down outside wasn't the best way to sleep, but you didn't want to wake Isaac.

You laid your head on top of his, scooting closer to him before closing your eyes, falling asleep next to him.

taglist:

@jjjmaybank

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@rachlovesactors

[fandom-monium]

hi! can i request some fluff with reader taking care of a sick reid pls? I love your fics 🧡

AN: Thank you!! Hope yall dont mind i switched it around :))

Doctor Nurse Reid

Summary: In which you get sick and Spencer looks after you. "I don't mind germs if they're from you."

WC: 2.1k

TW: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, poor badass Reader got a fever :(, fluff, mutual pining you know me :))

—

Something's wrong.

The thought crosses Spencer's mind like a lightning bolt, alarming enough it makes him look up from his morning reading to glance around the bullpen. Coworkers sitting at their desks, others sipping coffee in the kitchen, but no one's running around like there's a fire. Nothing stands out.

But something's wrong and he knows it. He's just not sure what. It makes him itch.

He runs through his morning routine. Socks mismatched—check. His morning coffee from his favorite coffee shop—check. He came in early—also check. Okay, he's good at least. He carefully scans the office again.

The blinds partially open, he can see Hotch bent over his desk so severely he has half a mind to warn him he'll develop scoliosis. Rossi is in his own office doing... whatever Rossi does. JJ and Emily's desks are empty, but they left a few minutes ago for Garcia's cave, and Derek slouches in his chair, fiddling with a pencil as if it'll do a trick. And you—

Your desk is empty.

"Hey, did you see (Your Name) come in yet?" He asks Derek, trying to keep his tone casual. Sometimes he gets caught up in his reading to notice the world around him. Maybe Derek saw you.

But he shrugs, twirling his chair around. "Nope. But don't worry, Reid. I'm sure (Your Name) will come in any minute now."

He sputters, "Worried? Pshhh—who said I was worried?"

Derek raises an eyebrow at him before spinning his chair again.

Perfectly normal. Nice. Spencer mentally pats himself on the back. He's probably right, he thinks, turning back to his own work. They've all been late to work before, and you're no exception. Granted, this is the latest you have ever been, but he won't judge you. Everyone has their reasons.

But a few minutes turn into half an hour, and half an hour turns into one, until eventually they're called into the conference room, quickly debriefed because the case is urgent. Hotch wants them on the plane yesterday.

Before he has the chance to even bring you up, Hotch calls to him, "Hey, Reid, (Your Name) isn't answering their phone. I want you to check on them. "

"But—"

"You have a key to their apartment right?"

"Well, yes—"

"Perfect. Don't worry about us, you can video call with Garcia," Finality in his tone, Hotch strides out of the room, following behind the others, who try to hide impish grins.

Spencer blinks owlishly, frozen in the empty conference room.

—

Should he be mad at his team for leaving him behind?

Yes.

Is he mad?

No.

If Spencer's being honest, any anger or annoyance he initially felt goes out the window, replaced with excitement as he carefully makes his way down the hall towards your apartment, like you'll burst through your door any second, guns blazing at an attacker or something. Anything's possible with you. Then he realizes—

He's at your apartment. Alone.

The thought nearly sends him hyperventilating.

He shakes his head, reminding himself he's been to your place before, that he's there to check on you and not, as Derek would say, "put the moves" on you. He is there out of concern for a colleague—a friend—so when he reaches your door, he meekly knocks, "(Your Name)? It's me."

No answer.

Frowning, he knocks again before letting himself in.

At least your apartment seems untouched. Appliances off, curtains drawn with windows locked shut, and your clothes strewn here and there (he cracks his neck looking away from your underwear atop a pile of laundry), but nothing warrants concern.

So, where the hell are you?

Padding down the hallway to your bedroom door, he softly knocks, calling you. Again, no reply, and worry bubbles in him as he enters your room.

Only for it to fizzle out when he sees a very you-shaped lump in the center of your bed.

Spencer's shoulders drop in relief. "(Your Name)."

The lump shifts slightly.

Well, that's something. Stepping over more clothes and your half open go-bag, he stands at your bedside and gently shakes you. "(Your Name), wake up."

Something between a gurgle and snarl. He shakes you harder.

"Mmm..." You peek out from under the blankets, bleary-eyed. You croak, "Reid?"

"Good morning," He says, smiling down at you.

Had this been any other day, his smile would have made your heart jump, make you squeal so loud your neighbors would complain, or send you spiraling into embarrassment because Spencer's here in your room. You must look like a mess and—shit—you haven't cleaned since god knows when.

But then your head throbs and you groan, ducking back under the sheets like a turtle. Fuck how messy everything must look.

"Are you okay? Your face is flushed," Spencer asks, voice muffled above you. You feel him tug at your blankets and you pull them tighter around you. Your cheeks burn.

"I'll be fine. Just go ahead without me, I'll meet you at work."

"The team already left."

Your eyes shoot open and you immediately sit up, "Wha—ack!" You clutch the side of your head, your vision swimming.

Spencer's already at your side as he rests a hand on your back, brow furrowed in concern. "Yeah, Hotch said you weren't answering your phone, so he sent me to check on you."

"But—"

Without thinking he presses the back of his hand to your forehead and his frown deepens, "You're burning up. Have you eaten yet?"

Your lips part in surprise, eyes heavy as you stare at Spencer. Touch never came easy to him, but his palm is a cool relief against your skin, and you hope the heat rising to your face is from the oncoming fever. "Uh no, I haven't."

"Okay, you lay back down while I update everyone," He says, stepping into the hall. "Then I'll make tea. How do you feel about peppermint?"

"Thanks, Reid, seriously, but I can do it myself," You say as you struggle to push off your blankets, the strength in your arms sapped out of you. The last thing you want is to trouble him.

But before you can set foot out of bed, Spencer repeats himself, his unusually stern voice making you freeze, "I said, lay down. I'll make tea, okay?"

Not bothering to wait for an answer, he shuts the door behind him, and you fall back into your pillows, scratching your head.

... Yep, the heat is definitely from the fever.

—

“I see. We'll be back in a few days, so there's no problem,” Hotch crackles through the phone.

“Allright."

“…Is there something else, Reid?”

"Ummm..."

"...You don't know how to set up for a video call, don't you." It's not a question.

"I do not, no."

"...Call Garcia. We'll talk soon."

"Thanks, Hotch."

"Of course. And Reid?"

"Yes?"

"Tell (Your Name) we hope they feel better soon."

"I will."

—

“Open your mouth.”

You purse your lips together, arms crossed as you meet his gaze with defiance.

Spencer holds the thermometer closer to your lips, “Seriously, (Your Name), open your mouth.”

You shake your head, turning away.

He squints at you, “Are you a child?”

“Are you a doctor?”

“Yes. Now open up, so I can take your temperature and diagnose you!”

“Doctor, my ass.‌ You can’t diagnose shit!” You hiss before hiding under your covers.

Counting down, Spencer huffs, slowly easing his death-grip on the thermometer.

He’s so glad he’s not a medical doctor.

—

“Where do you keep your medicine?” Spencer asks, looming at the threshold.

You avoid eye contact.

He guffaws, “You don't have any medicine?”

“I don’t get sick.”

“And you’d call this…?”

“Listen, this is just like when I get a soar throat or a stuffy nose—”

“Both of which you have.”

“It’ll pass!” You rasp, coughing into your sleeve. Spencer cringes. “Eventually."

Rolling his eyes, he steps into your bathroom, not bothering to ask for permission as he rifles through your medicine cabinet. Nothing. By the time he stumbles upon the single bottle of tylennol, he’s already gone through your hallway and kitchen cabinets. Sighing in relief because at least you own some medicine, he picks it up and checks the label.

It’s expired.

He chucks it into the trash bin.

—

It doesn’t take long for Spencer to make a corner for himself in your apartment, setting his old laptop on your kitchen counter (away from your laundry) with Penelope’s tech support. He’s down the hall from your room, far enough any noise he makes shouldn’t disturb you, but close enough he can still keep an eye on you. It’s the perfect spot.

“I was studying the crime scene photos, and I thought the symbol looked familiar, ” Spencer says, the case files laid out on the floor and on the counter. “I looked into it and they’re definitely ritualistic in nature—”

On the screen, the team nods in understanding as Spencer continues, following him and his hand gestures as closely as they can, until at some point in his info dump, he notices the team’s focus shift, their grim moods changing. Penelope's lips are barely suppressed into a smile, Emily’s fist covers her grin, Derek and JJ exchange knowing looks, while Hotch and Rossi smirk, trying to mask their own amusement.

“What’s so funny?”

The front door creeks. Spencer whirls around, and his heart drops, “(Your Name), what are you doing out of bed?”

So close. You flinch, shutting the door. “I’m going to work, obviously.”

“You’re sick.”

“No, you.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. And I thought the medicine would’ve knocked you out by now.”

“Jokes on you, I’m resistant to most poisons!”

“It’s medicine; it’s supposed to help!” Spencer pinches his brow, sliding off the stool to herd you away from the door. He feels a headache coming on. “You know what? Nevermind, let’s just get you back to bed.”

You snort, gently batting his hands away, “I don’t need you to baby me.”

“I’m not babying you, I’m showing you I care,” He retorts as he ushers you back towards the bedroom.

Without either of you realizing, the team watches the entire scene unfold, hearts warming as their teammates bicker. And when Spencer returns, he notices the odd looks they give him.

“What?”

Penelope giggles, “You two fight like an old married couple.” Everyone collectively agrees.

Spencer pouts, ignoring their jests as he falls back into his rant, making them go back to work.

But for the first time in his life, he nearly squees.

—

"I know I haven't said it yet, but thank you for taking care of me, Reid," You sniff, wrapping the blankets closer to you as you lay in bed. Your bedside lamp bathes your room in a warm light, casting shadows and contouring the sides of your face. It's already late, but the teams called enough times that you know the case is a tough one, tougher without their best minds constantly present. You blink the sleep from your eyes. "I promise I'll make it up to you. I'll even do your paperwork for the rest of the week."

Spencer sets a fresh cup of tea on your bedside table before raising an eyebrow, "I'm pretty sure you snuck some of your paperwork into mine yesterday."

"...I don't recall."

He chuckles, sitting next to you, "It's okay, you don't owe me anything."

"But I do," Covering a yawn, you snuggle deeper into your blankets, "You're the biggest germaphobe I know, I doubt you wanted to be around me like this."

As you shift into a comfortable position, sleep finally catching up to you, Spencer's lips part to reply, but his throat closes as he realizes that for almost the entire time he was here, not once was he concerned of germs or contamination or dirt, at least not on himself.

His only concern was you.

After a pause, he mumbles, "I don't mind germs if they're from you." Blushing, he turns away, heartbeat in his ears as he holds his breath, waiting for you to respond. Or reject. Shit, he wants to keel over and die—

Snore.

His shoulders sag in relief. Carefully removing himself from your bed, he turns off the bedside lamp before placing a kiss at the top of your head, shutting the door quietly. His footsteps fade down the hall.

In the dark, you squeal into your pillow.

—

AN: Hi! Anyone else try to be more productive when they're sick?

As for my little absence, college was kicking my ass, and I needed to focus on career decisions and stuff. Now that I'm writing again, I started this as a warm up and ended up going over my word limit by a lot hehehe. Hopefully I finish Battle Tactics part 2 soon...

This was inspired partially by @spacedikut's Nurse Reid fic, if you couldn't tell by the title :D))

Hope you enjoyed!

—

Bonus Scene:

—

“A-choo!“

You hand him another tissue, wincing. “Sorry.”

Voice throaty, Spencer dismisses your apology with a wave of his hand, “No, no I did this to myself, but I appreciate you coming to look after me, even though you’re all better now.”

“Of course I would. Besides,” You hand him a cup of tea this time, and he takes a sip, humming. You smirk, “I don’t mind germs if they’re from you.”

Spencer chokes on his tea.

[twodimecastle]

fifty bucks & six months.

spencer reid x gender neutral reader new relationship, secret keeping nonsense, 4.5k words, ao3 a/n; turns out i love writing texting fic but tumblr destroys the formatting rip

zero months.

You smile conspiratorially, extending a pinkie towards Spencer and he gives you a skeptical look.

“You know the odds of being found out immediately are-” he starts, but you cut him off.

“Astronomical, I know. I know. But don’t you think it’ll be fun to see how long we can push it?” you wheedle, not caring that your voice sounds more like begging than is strictly dignified because seeing the way Spencer’s nose crinkles in amusement at your heavy handed persuasion is too adorable to pass up. You scoot closer on the couch, tapping the end of his nose with your pinkie finger, letting him catch your hand between his as you continue “I think we’ve got a good shot at hiding it for a little while. It would be like a game.”

Spencer draws your captive hand to his lips, brushing them across your knuckles and watching fondly as you forge ahead in your campaign to persuade him, enjoying the show and the attention too much to tell you he’s already on board. Your eyes are shining with the prospect of the caper, and you’ve made no move to take your hand back from him, and Spencer’s pretty sure he’d be more than happy to sit with you in this moment forever. “I mean-” you go on, gesturing animatedly with your free hand, “you’re like-a really good liar when you want to be. And everyone else always forgets how good you are at it.”

He snorts at that and the sound makes you light up, eyes tracking the arch of his brows, the warmth in his soft brown eyes, memorising the way he looks like this; utterly unbothered, completely at ease. It might be your favourite version of him, but that race has always been a tight one with no clear winner in sight. You have lots of favourite versions of Spencer. Twisting your hand in his, you tangle your fingers together, savouring the way you feel his thumb glide delicately along your skin and the unhidden joy in his face at the simple show of affection.

Time to play your trump card.

“$50 says we can hide it from the whole group for at least six months. If everyone figures it out before then, you win. But if not everyone has worked it out by then, I win.”

The mischievous shine in your eyes is irresistible, and Spencer smiles, disentangling one of his hands from yours to extend his own pinky finger.

“You’re on.”

The words barely make it out of his mouth before you’re colliding with him, pressing your lips to his.

two months.

“So, how long has this whole thing been going on?” Derek’s question catches Spencer off guard, and, based on the way he can see you freeze in his peripheral vision, takes you by surprise as well. Sliding into the driver's seat of the SUV, Derek continues “I hope you didn’t think you were gonna be able to keep me in the dark for long, pretty boy. You should know better than that.”

Following mechanically after him, Spencer takes the passenger seat, trying to frame his next statement as carefully as possible as he hears your door close and the car start. “We were-going to tell you guys-” he begins uncomfortably, glancing back to you for support, but you look just as on edge as he feels. “We were just gonna-keep it to ourselves for a while-before telling Hotch and everything-” he tries again, the mounting tension levering his shoulders higher and higher with every passing moment, but then Derek just laughs, shaking his head.

“Hey, I’m happy for you, kid. For both of you.” He spares a look at you in the back seat through the rear view mirror, and you can feel the tension in your jaw relax, the furrows in your brow straightening out at the note of approval in Derek’s voice. “I’m glad you two finally figured it out,” he says, fondly, and you laugh.

“I bet Spence we could keep it from you guys at least six months,” you explain, reaching forwards through the centre console to link your pinky with Spencer’s, and the touch of your hand releases the last of the tension he had been harbouring as he covers your hand with the other one of his own. He knows Derek clocks the motion, filing it away in his mind somewhere, but he doesn’t care about the scrutiny so much right now. Not when your hand is so warm and comfortable in his.

Derek reaches for the dial on the radio and flicks through the channel, thinking about something, and as you watch, a slow mischievous smirk spreads across his face a moment later before he glances first at Spencer and then at you.

“I’ll tell you what,” he says to you, and Spencer can feel a familiar grin tugging at his own lips as he watches a plan take shape in his friend’s eyes. “I’m happy to sit on this information for a while for a cut of the winnings from whichever one of you comes out on top.” He snorts good naturedly as he continues “I have my own bet to win with Prentiss, so if you two help me win that one, I’ll cut you in too.”

“A quid pro quo of sorts,” Spencer says slowly, and he feels your fingers tighten around his, as you snort softly, and he knows instinctually you’re grinning the same way you always do when you’re winning a game. “I think we can do that.”

Derek grins, turning the music up as he nods, eyes on the road. “Then you two love birds have got yourselves a deal.”

two months and two weeks.

PG: youre not as slick as you think you are ;)

YN: ???

PG: ;))))))))) you should invest in some concealer for your work bag sweetness or tell the good doctor to pay more attention to whats visible in your work clothes

YN: oh my fucking god wait how do you even know thats how that happened

PG: im all knowing and all seeing im like the omnipotent goddess of the fbi

YN: derek blabbed

PG: he sang like a canary but also im an omnipotent goddess im also totally clued in on the whole bet situation with em so for the low low price of every single juicy detail about how this adorableness went down you can buy my silence :)

YN: im getting derek decaf coffee on all coffee runs from now on >:( traitors dont get caffeine

PG: darling sweet angel i need deets all of them like immediately

YN: >:( fine ok so. after that case down in georgia a few months ago? the weird one? with the creepy mother son thing?

PG: omg yuck pls dont remind me im here for the CUTENESS not the MURDER

YN: sorryyyyyyy anyway so spence was like being super weird about it all on the plane and whatever but he was doing that super annoying thing where he ignores it and says hes fine so everyone leaves him alone

PG: YEAH why does everyone here do that ALL THE TIME its SO annoyingggg

YN: ikr its insufferable and like super not subtle ANYWAY. spence was being weird and whatever and i just. refused to let him sulk on his own or whatever like i could tell there was something bothering him and so after work i insisted that we were gonna get like shitty diner food or whatever and watch a movie and he knows better than to say no to me

PG: smart boy

YN: so we got fries and milkshakes and then went back to his place to watch a movie and he was still like weird and silent and like brooding yknow? but whatever just figured hed talk about it when he was ready so i put on a movie and offered to make popcorn and then he was just staring at me and he looked so SAD and TIRED and i thought id done something wrong like the poor guy looked like he was gonna cry and i was panicking over fucking popcorn and then he says ‘why are you always so nice to me?’

PG: oh my god hes like if a sad victorian orphan was actually a triplicate phd holder

YN: i was SO thrown off i was like spencer. spencer were best friends. ive been forcing you to hang out with me for years now why do you THINK im being nice to you its bc i care about you asshole and then. like after another million years after letting me sweat it out over whether hes about to cry for like fucking years the asshole grabs my hand and says. i shit you not. ‘you know im in love with you, right?’ !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

PG: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

YN: anyway hes my boyfriend now :’) dont tell anyone tho gotta win the bet

four months.

Lingering by the elevator, you glance around at the uncharacteristically silent office building, waiting for Spencer to leave the bullpen. The sound of his footfalls drawing nearer makes you smile and you mentally applaud yourself for suggesting the two of you remained behind after disembarking from the plane, taking advantage of the manufactured privacy to take the same car home, back to his apartment.

When he sees you waiting for him, he can’t help the soft fond smile that tugs at his face, as he reaches for your hand, sliding his fingers into yours with a gentle squeeze, the quiet of the building allowing him to indulge in the show of affection. You return the squeeze, leaning your head on his shoulder with a yawn and as he presses a fond kiss to your temple he’s rewarded by a sleepy hum of approval from you that sends a rush of quiet joy shooting through him.

“At least we won’t be sleeping in hotel beds again tonight,” you say, voice weary, and Spencer nods as he shuffles you into the elevator. The doors slide shut and the elevator starts to move and in the moment of absolute privacy, you steal a kiss, tilting your chin up to catch his lips with yours, revelling in the soft huff of surprise he lets out, even as he smiles against your mouth. Even after months, the simple act of kissing Spencer still feels new and thrilling somehow, like you can’t quite believe it’s something you’re allowed to do.

His nose brushes yours and he breathes “unless something big comes up, we get a sleep in tomorrow too,” and the way you beam at him sends his heart racing in his chest, unable to look away from the fondness shining in your eyes.

As the two of you exit the elevator and make your way through the Bureau car park, you tuck yourself against his side, wedging yourself under his arm with a happy sigh, eager to get yourself horizontal and asleep as fast as possible. Spencer brushes his lips against your temple again as the two of you close in on his car, almost free and clear of the office when a voice behind the two of you brings you up short.

“Reid?”

Spencer is reacting before his mind catches up, turning on his heel towards the sound of Hotch’s voice echoing through the parking lot, conscious of the incriminating way you’re still tucked against his side, even as his brain is rifling frantically through any possible excuses for the current circumstances.

“Hotch-” you step away from Spencer, cheeks flaming, not wanting to chance a look at him. “I-we-thought everyone else had gone home,” you trail off lamely, trying your hardest not to balk under Hotch’s ominously impassive scrutiny. A second passes, then another, and the short silence feels like months, or years even as the three of you stand locked in a stalemate.

“I take it the two of you would prefer to keep this under wraps?” He asks, finally, and it registers with Spencer, somewhat belatedly, that Hotch’s tone isn’t admonishing. It isn’t enough to dissipate the tension coiling in Spencer’s muscles just yet, but he spares a glance at you as he nods, and a moment later, Hotch gives the two of you a curt nod of his own. “I’ll tell you what,” he says, a shade of irony colouring his voice. “If you two fill out the paperwork for in-team relationships for me, I’ll keep it to myself. I understand privacy is hard to come by in our office.”

The words take a while to fully sink in, and you’re conscious that you’re standing there blinking and gaping at your boss like a bemused fish for a good few seconds before you’ve composed yourself enough to say “absolutely, sir. Of course. Thank you.”

Hotch nods again, heading towards his own car, and as he passes the two of you, a brief smile flashes across his face.

“Congratulations, you two. Get some sleep.”

four months and three weeks.

Spencer isn’t sure how late it is, but he knows you’re not asleep yet, the faint glow of your phone screen casting faint distorted shadows across his room as your free hand rests lightly on his chest. In the dark blue twilight of his room, the space feels undefined and dream like somehow, the line between his mind and his surroundings blurry or indistinct somehow, and as you huff out a near silent laugh at something on the screen in your hand, a thought rises to the surface of his thoughts like flotsam on an unwanted tide.

The more clinical part of his mind notes the autonomic response in his body, the way his heart lurches unpleasantly in his chest, heart rate rising with an influx of cortisol through his nervous system, automatically rifling through ways to control the anxiety response. Age old instinct surges forwards, starting to push his spiralling anxiety down out of sight so as not to bother you with it, but then your hand shifts infinitesimally on his chest, fingers curling in the soft fabric of his pyjama shirt, and for once his body is miles ahead of his brilliant mind, your name is leaving his lips before he’s really aware of it happening.

Your gaze flashes up from your phone at the sound of his voice, soft and hesitant, and you let the screen go dark as you set it down. You can feel Spencer’s heart hammering against his ribs under your palm, and your brows knit together in concern as you shift closer to his side, tracing gentle circles over his shirt with your fingertips, the repetitive motion intended to soothe, though you’re not sure if it’s for his benefit or yours.

“Yeah, baby?” You ask softly, working hard to keep the rising worry from your voice. After three years of friendship and almost six months of dating, you know him well enough to sense when his propensity for overthinking and catastrophizing is slipping out of his control. You can feel his chest rise as he inhales sharply, whatever he’s about to say cut off by second guessing, doing nothing to pacify your concern. “Spence? Is everything okay?” You ask again.

“This-bet-hiding our relationship-it’s-” he trails off, throat tight as he rolls onto his side, facing away from you, and smushing his face into the pillow, already wishing he hadn’t said anything. You’re the kindest person he’s ever met, but offering up this kind of raw insecurity feels like pulling teeth. Even if it’s you. Especially if it’s you. He doesn’t know if he’s ready to find out if you care about him enough to stay when his racing mind gets the better of him. The pillow muffles his voice as he says “never mind.”

You feel your own heart rate tic up in response to that, matching the wild beat of Spencer’s that you could feel under your palm only a second ago. “Baby, talk to me. What’s on your mind?”

He shakes his head, face still hidden in the pillow. “It’s stupid.”

He can feel the rush of your breath on his back as you sigh, and your voice is almost achingly patient as you say softly “it’s not stupid if it matters to you.” There’s a long pause, and you press yourself against his back, settling close and letting your hand slide over his side to rest on his chest, the heat of his skin sinking into yours even through his thin shirt. In spite of his height, he feels so small as you wrap yourself around him, drawing closer, trying to reassure him without yet knowing what he needs to be reassured of. “Spence?”

“Are you ashamed of-being with me? Is that why you want to hide it?” The words are almost whispered, the sound almost lost against his pillow and your heart sinks, plummeting faster and further than if you’d dropped it off the side of a skyscraper. You should’ve known he might worry about that, should have realised it might have felt that way. Remorse rises hot and bitter in your throat and you swallow it down, trying to steady your voice.

“Spencer. Sweetheart. No. Never. I could never be ashamed. I love you. I’m so sorry.” Your arms wrap more tightly around him and you bury your face against the crook of his neck, the tension you can feel in every inch of his body making you feel more cruel and short-sighted than you already do. “I’m sorry I didn’t realise it might feel like that. I could never be ashamed of being with you, Spence. You’re my favourite person.” He takes the kind of shaky, shallow breath that comes with trying not to cry and your heart breaks a little more as one of his hands slowly moves to cover yours where it rests against his chest, just over his heart.

As his hand rests over yours, his thumb strokes lightly along your knuckles, and he knows you know him well enough to notice the way his hand trembles, just a little, because then your hand is shifting against his, turning to clumsily tangle your fingers with his, holding tighter to him as he tries to collect himself, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath as his eyes squeeze shut. He can hear the contrition in your voice as you say softly “I’ve never really liked having people know everything about what’s going on in my life. And I love our friends but-something like this, that’s so-special? So new? I wanted to be able to keep it to just us for a while.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice comes out a little shaky, scarcely more than a whisper, and it’s more than you can take as you pull back and gently force him to roll over to face you. He’s not crying, but his eyes are glassy and you recognise the fight to keep the tears unshed in the tight set of his jaw and the hard line of his lips. Leaning on your elbow, you lift your free hand to gently smooth out the furrows of his brow, letting your fingers linger along the planes of his face.

“Why are you sorry,” you ask gently. “You don’t need to be sorry, baby. Not for talking to me about things that bother you. We can tell everyone else tomorrow, if you want? We can call off the bet. Derek will live. If he’s got a problem with it I’ll turn all his shirts into crop tops.”

He can tell the joke is a last bid attempt to make him smile, to ease his fear, and it works. In spite of the anxious weight in his chest that feels like it’s pressing him into the mattress, Spencer laughs weakly, meeting your eyes, and he watches as a relieved smile breaks across your face, releasing your lower lip from where you’d trapped it worriedly between your teeth. The unmitigated affection that floods into your eyes renders him momentarily breathless as he takes in the moment. You’re still here, still trying to take care of him. Just as kind and steadfast as ever.

“No,” he says eventually, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you down on top of him like a living weighted blanket, letting your warmth chase the bulk of the tension from his body and luxuriating in the way you curl into him, one hand sliding into his hair. “We shouldn’t call off the bet. We still have to take Emily’s money, remember?”

Your sleepy laugh is the last thing he hears before his eyes close and the feel of your body wound around his lulls him to sleep.

five months.

SR: Can I talk to you about something?

DM: you dying or something? that’s a really fuckin ominous text to recieve out of the blue

SR: I’m not dying, why would that be what you assumed? I just have a question.

DM: just a figure of speech but what’s up?

SR: It’s about your bet with Emily. What’re the terms for it?

DM: wym?

SR: What exactly did you two make the bet about? What needs to happen in order for you to win the bet?

DM: does this count as collusion?

SR: Technically yes, but calling it collusion implies a certain degree of illegality.

DM: whatever anyway the terms i made with em were that you’d make some kind of move before your birthday but she reckoned you were gonna need some kind of near death experience to do anything about your crush why?

SR: I’m just making sure I have all the information.

DM: what’s going on pretty boy? you planning something?

SR: Maybe.

DM: not a helpful answer reid is everything good?

SR: Everything’s fine. We’re just figuring some stuff out. Nothing to worry about.

DM: is there something you’re not telling me?

SR: Don’t worry about it.

five months, three weeks and six days.

In the chaos that was the scramble from the briefing room to the jet, you haven’t yet had the chance to speak to Spencer about the outcome of his most recent thesis defence panel. By the time you’ve got a moment to breathe, the jet is underway, coasting across the country towards Montana, the whole team settled in for the six hour flight. You corner him in the tiny kitchen area of the jet as he’s making a mug of mediocre coffee, fingers tapping out an absent minded rhythm on the countertop as the coffee machine whirs, clearly not paying attention to anything outside of his head.

“Hey, boy genius.” He jumps, whirling around, eyes wide with surprise, and you smile fondly. “So?” You demand, and Spencer raises an eyebrow in confusion. You snort, rolling your eyes as you elaborate. “Your defence panel. Did it go okay?”

You’re shifting your weight and fidgeting restlessly with the belt loops on your pants and as he studies you for a moment, it occurs to Spencer that you’re nervous for him over this outcome. The thought brings an almost giddy smile to his face.

“You know this isn’t my first thesis defence panel, right?” He says mildly, deliberately burying the lede, enjoying the way you scowl in irritation too much to answer your question right away, too enamoured with this display of concern on his behalf.

“Don’t be difficult, Doctor Reid. It’s still a big deal.” He just shrugs noncommittally, and you huff, swatting his arm lightly. “So did it go well?” You ask again, eyes narrowing as you try to dissect his microexpressions, trying to discern the answer he seems determined to keep from you for yourself. A few seconds later, he relents.

“I can now add degree number six to my wall.” He confirms. Getting degrees doesn’t hold the same rush of pride for him now, the accomplishment feeling somewhat less exceptional as he acquires more of them, but the way your face lights up with pride for him reminds him how special the things he’s capable of can be. You’ve always made him feel like more than the sum of his parts somehow, like something infinitely more precious than he always assumed he is.

“I fucking knew it. That’s amazing, Spence,” you say, chest warm and full with pride and love, and his almost shy smile in return is enough to make a decision for you in a split second. Your hand dips into your back pocket, drawing something out, and you carefully hide it from view in your palm as Spencer tracks the motion curiously with his eyes.

Your eyes are shining with affection and something that looks like mischief and the way you’re smiling at him is more than enough to divert his attention as you step closer, just barely noticing as you slip something into his hand. You’re dangerously, distractingly close now, and he’s conscious, if somewhat distantly, that neither of you is concealed from the rest of the team, scant meters away in the seating area of the jet. But you’re smiling and close enough for him to feel your breath on his face and suddenly your lips are on his, and even after nearly seven months of being able to touch you like this, it’s enough to make him forget everything else as he melts into the contact, savouring the warmth of your skin and the faint smell of your shampoo.

You pull back a second later, the kiss over almost as soon as it started, but it’s enough to attract attention, and you can hear a belated ‘oh SHIT’ from Emily in the main cabin of the jet. In your peripheral vision, you can see money changing hands, your friends scrambling to react, but you don’t look at them, choosing to enjoy the bemused, affectionate look on Spencer’s face as his brain catches up to the events unfolding around the two of you.

“I was tired of keeping it a secret,” you say fondly, loud enough only for him to hear. “You win.”

Blinking in confusion, he finally tears his gaze away from yours, fingers uncurling to reveal the fifty dollar bill you had pressed into his palm right before you kissed him. The penny drops and he snorts with laughter, shaking his head in half hearted indignation as his other arm loops around you, pulling you in, letting you rest your head on his shoulder, hiding your face from the rest of the team as he kisses your temple, revelling in the way you wind yourself around him in response.

“I was gonna do this in like two days. I wanted you to win,” he murmurs against your hairline, and he can feel your faint laughter.

“Too bad, baby. I’m used to getting my way,” you say, pulling back to steal another quick kiss before peeling yourself out of his arms with a wink, turning to face the onslaught of ‘care to fucking explain that’ and ‘I fucking told you so’ from the rest of your friends, tugging him with you by your joined hands.

[shmaptainwrites]

Hi I’d like to request prompt 12 from the hurt comfort list about the collapsing since I deal with a light form of asthma :) also with hotch pls <3

Hi there anon! I also have asthma so I kind of drew on some of my experiences with it but I’ve never passed out from it so I hope in the end it’s decently accurate

Pairings: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader

Warnings: hospital, fainting, ambulance, guns, medication

Blue and Orange

You really wished it hadn’t come to this, because you knew exactly how it would end. The unsub had decided to grace you with his presence in the area of the warehouse you were covering. You expected a struggle to ensue, which it did, but he seemed to have no interest in killing you, only to disarm you and throw your gun and its contents scattered around the floor so he could make his escape.

In a split second decision you decided to run after him instead of trying to reassemble your gun.

“I’ve still got eyes on him at the north side of the building,” you called into your comm, a familiar dizzying feeling coming to you as you continued to sprint as fast as your legs would take you.

You could try your best to fight it off, but it would make its appearance eventually.

Much to your luck, the unsub was not the fastest runner, and you managed to catch up, grabbing his jacket and pushing him to the ground to cuff him quickly before the team got there.

You stated his rights through a fit of coughs and someone might have thought you were dealing with an arsonist.

“Hey mama, you okay?” Derek asked as he ran up towards you to take the unsub out of your hands.

You nodded and waved your head even though you continued to cough, a tightening feeling coming over your chest while you gripped it, wishing more air would make its way into your lungs. The cold winter air didn’t help.

“Morgan, what’s going on with (Y/N)?” you could hear Hotch ask while he and Emily came to join you both.

“I’m not too sure. They’ve been coughing since I got here,”

“(Y/N)?” Hotch came to your side, placing a hand on your shoulder. “(Y/N), are you-,”

He stopped as the coughing did and instead turned into large gulps of air. You could feel yourself slowly drift from consciousness as the air failed to make its way to your brain and before long your knees gave out, sending you straight into your Unit Chief’s arms.

“Prentiss, call an ambulance!” he said urgently and your eyes fluttered shut.

You weren’t sure how much longer it had been when you blinked them open again, but you weren’t outside the warehouse anymore, instead you sat on a hospital bed with an oxygen mask over your face.

Your lungs felt sore from all the coughing, but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle.

“So when were you planning on telling us you’re an asthmatic,”

Your eyes followed the voice until they landed on Hotch sitting on a chair next to your bed.

“You gave us all quite a scare,”

You tried to take the mask off, but he leaned forward and placed a hand over your own, encouraging you to keep it on.

“I didn’t know the attack was going to be that bad. I’ve never fainted from it before,” you admitted. “I guess the air just gets a little colder in Wisconsin than Virginia,”

He nodded and reached into his pocket, pulling out two familiar puffers.

“We found these in your emergency bag you carry around after we put you in the ambulance,” he said. “Ventolin and Fluticasone, right?”

You nodded your head and took the two puffers from his hand.

“Could have used blue a few hours ago,” you chuckled softly and you looked up, seeing Hotch’s lips quirk up in a small smile.

“Just make sure I know where to find them whenever we’re in the field from now on, huh?”

You smiled and nodded your head. “Sure thing, Hotch, as long as you can convince them to discharge me,”

“Deal,”