#(send more asks. please) /jj
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scover-va · 1 year ago
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I love your fnaf stuff so much! And I'm very sorry if you've already covered most of this, but like- any more details on Michael post-scooping? Idc whether that be how to fits in publicly (if even possibly lol), relationships he builds, his mentality, or just important events you planned for him after the scooping! Idc if it's even an AU you have, I just love how you write Michael and would love to hear more of anything! :)
cracks my fucking knuckles oh BABEY ok this is going under a read more because i know damn well this is gonna be multiple paragraphs long. Ty anon, michael afton is my favourite topic ever
Okay so, something important to note here is that even if I choose to ignore all of Dittophobia, my au still does have Sister Location occurring after FNAF 1 - Specifically late December, so like. A month after fnaf 1. It ALSO coincides with the fnaf 3 minigames that lead up to William's death. That's a longass discussion all in itself tho so I'll probably make a follow up post on that if requested
But! Post-Scoop Mike! During the time period of Ennard inhabiting his body he was essentially unconscious for the entire ordeal. Like. Yknow how majority of the ghosts are kinda lacking some level of awareness while in the suits? Yeah. Michael doesn't really remember it, but he still remembers the time passing, so it's not just. Like. Dying on the scooping room floor, then BAM! Alive on the sidewalk. It's sorta like. Yknow those movie/show/game cutscenes where everything's vague and blurry and slow-motion and the audio is funky. Like that
When he DID get his body back, for a few minutes it was sorta like. He was back to full awareness. Noticed he could see things, and that his limbs felt heavy, and that he could hear a mix of ringing and the "You won't die" line and flies buzzing around him. The sunlight felt too bright. You know when you take one of those naps that severely fucks you up, and because of that you wake up half-numb, dizzy, and disoriented? Now imagine that but a million times worse. He's in pain everywhere, his senses are readjusting, he knows he shouldn't be able to see or hear or speak but he can do those things anyway. And he can tell that despite it being a bright, sunny day, no one's coming to his aid. So he forces himself up and painfully stumbles home.
Now, well my timeline of events between SL and 3 is a bit vague, I do have the important stuff down. He gets home, and despite not having been allowed to contact his mom since late '86 (this is important and relevant guys i prommy) and having been told she was dead, he called her anyway. Long story short, one phone call later and also lots of general, messy emotional stuff, Michael. Left the state of Utah as a whole and went and lived with his mom over in California. Because of the whole being dead thing, he did kinda unfortunately sever ties with Jeremy and Henry (aka the only two living people left he even spoke to, besides William but he's a week dead by now), but like. He wasn't really sure how he could approach those situations. A guy who's lost a bunch of cognitive and motor abilities, and a man who fell into a deep depression after his daughter's death. Michael kinda saw telling them as like. I dont really have the word for it, but he saw abandonment as the better option. Figured it'd hurt them less
When it came to fitting into public, it was essentially the same as how he blends in during fnaf 6, just with MUCH darker clothes. He likely did hide away for a while, refusing to go outside, but started slowly readjusting. He didn’t make any bonds while there (unless his mom’s adoptive parents count), mostly keeping to himself. He worked, but it was always nightshift jobs where no one else would be around.
Luckily, his hygiene has gotten MUCH better! Due to being a rotten corpse, he tends to start smelling bad and being a general safety hazard rather quickly, so typically he’ll do a thorough shower in the morning, and then another quick shower at night, just to be safe. And also he wears perfume, to avoid a smell building up. Just to be safe.
About 10 years (ish. I picked a general number so I didn’t have to pinpoint exact timing) into his 30 year disappearance, his mom does unfortunately pass. Lung cancer, turns out smoking a shit ton out of grief is a bad idea. Better than the murders, probably. It was very much so a rough time for Mike, given being in and out of a hospital (bad memories from Evan’s death and Jeremy’s near-death kept him in a constant state of anxiety during this time, not to mention those events already made him plenty anxious, paranoid, and overall jumpy when in hospitals) and then the eventual death. That’s when his goal to hunt down his dad kinda went into full swing. Because, well, that last sorta tether just snapped, so now he’s far more goal oriented.
It was probably full of him following small leads. Contacting some distant relatives of his, contacting his father’s old business partners - he kinda tried to procrastinate going back to Utah (specifically Hurricane) for as long as possible. But then news about Fazbear Frights came around, and the return kiiiinda became inevitable. Because unfortunately, it was a damn good lead. Also, once again, Michael remains friendless in this time. Outside of any possible employers or the people he contacted, he hasn’t actually properly, freely spoken to anyone since his mom or grandparents. And he kinda cut ties with his grandparents out of guilt after his mom passed.
And Fazbear Frights is. Interesting! Because as he’s used to, he has to go in to meet his employer! But what he’s not used to is seeing his estranged kinda-cousin-kinda-brother whom he hasn’t seen since they were, like, 14. Aka Sammy. It’s an incredibly awkward experience all around, despite them both having somewhat similar goals. They agree to pretend not to know each other.
Work goes, well, as it pretty much does in game. Nothing special. Probably some panic and resurfacing trauma on night 2. Anyways the fire! That’s the important part!
As one would expect, Michael was quick to get out of the fire. Wasn’t exactly hard to set it - the place is old and dirty and fucking *moldy* - he just tossed a half-smoked cigarette at some loose oil or something and the bitch was ablaze.
William (slash springtrap but im just saying william for simplicity’s sake) caught him in one of the hallways. And had the fucking *audacity* to try and plead with Michael to help him out of the building. And the kicker is that if it weren’t for survival instincts kicking in and causing Michael to topple William over and crush Will’s arm with an arcade machine to keep him down long enough for a quick escape, it would’ve worked. Michael is. Uh. Very emotionally and mentally vulnerable.
A couple years pass after that, before a new Freddy’s place opens, needing someone to run it. Michael does have experience business-wise thanks to watching and learning from his dad as a kid, so it couldn’t be *that* hard, right? He applied under a fake name, got himself all disguised and whatnot, and headed in!
Michael Afton’s Emily Family Reunion Counter: 2
It did take a few minutes for the recognition to actually happen. But. Yeah it was a lil awkward. Considering Michael’s very silent and very sudden exit 32 years ago. Oh yeah also i have fnaf 6 taking place over more than just a week, stretches out from about 2025-2026. No specifics, just a general span of time. Feels more realistic to me, idk. I get the 1 week thing for gameplay/continuity reasons, but hey! This is just an au! I can do whatever shit I please!
And Iiii! Still need to actually flesh out the fnaf 6 stuff beyond my silly lil jokes. Uhh, I think majority of the stuff gets covered here? Feel free to ask further questions on anything, im more than happy to talk about it :-)
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stuniolvs · 1 month ago
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s2!rafe x maybank!reader where she’s the little sister of jj & they end up fucking in a bathroom at a kook party. the pogues catch them & rafe is not even trying to denie it cause that was the best pussy he ever had����🎀
bathroom
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rafe cameron
you and your brothers friends stumble into the kind of fancy party you know you don’t belong at. do you care? not even for a second.
everyone scatters in different directions, john b. looking way too sharp in a black suit, sarah looking nice as well locked into a heated argument with kelce, pope heading straight for the drinks, and your brother jj, with kiara heading for the beer pong table, ready to dominate.
youu on the other hand, pull down your black tight dress so your boobs softly spill out, revealing more cleavage. your head turns to the sound of toppers laugh. you see rafe, a smirk planted on his sexy face. he’s wearing an all black suit, he chuckles as he removes his suit jacket, placing it on the chair next to him. you’d be lying if if it didn’t make your panties wet.
“hey rafe,” you step in between him and topper. topper gets the message and steps away sending rafe a wink. “hey baby,” he murmurs placing his hands on your hips. “where’s your brother?” he asks pulling you in so you’re pressed against him. you glance up at him considering he’s towering over you. “playing beer pong.” you smirk knowing that the beer pong table is far from where you and rafe stand. he leans down softly connecting your lips. the kiss is needy and wet. your hand moves to behind his neck, tugging at his hair. he groans into your mouth muttering, “jump.” as his hands slide behind your thighs. you jump up, your legs wrapping around his waist. he removes his lips from yours as he quickly walks you two over to the bathroom.
once you reach your destination, race places you on the counter, flicking on the warm lights. you tug his tie aggressively reconnecting your lips. his lips are soft and warm, the kiss full of need, considering you two hadn’t had sex in weeks due to your brother being around. “fuck, missed you so much baby.” he groans against your lips. you whimper into his lips as you feel his hardness press against your core. “need you so bad rafey,” you cry out.
he traces his lips down your neck surely leaving marks. his lips then make there way to your cleavage. you squirm under his touch. rafe then moves to where you need him the most, his head moving slightly under your dress. you hear him suck in a breath as he makes eye contact with your core. “all for me?” he asks, pressing his thumb against the material of your drenched black thong. “yes rafe! please, i need you” he smirks placing a soft kiss over your panties, you whimper softly. his fingers hook around your underwear pulling them down. he stuffs them into his suit pocket. “such a pretty pussy,” he compliments making you moan, feeling your arousal cover your thighs.
rafe comes back up to your face placing a kiss on your lips. you smile leaning in to kiss hos neck. your hands trace down to undo his tie and shirt. your lips come back up to his lips, ghosting your hands over his bulge, he moans into your mouth. you then undo the button and zipper of his pants. he then lifts you up flipping you over so you can see the both of you in the mirror. he then pulls down his pants kicking them off his feet leaving him in only his boxers. he unzips the back of your dress and pulling it down leaving you in your matching black lace bra. rafe groans, quickly pulling down his calvin klein boxers, his hard length slapping against his stomach. “ready baby?” he smirks, gripping your hips tightly. you nod aggressively, he chuckles. he slides his cock in between your lips before pushing himself into you. “rafe!” you gasp. he then starts thrusting into you. his length is the perfect size, hitting the spot inside you perfectly with every thrust. he groans behind you “so tight baby, i missed this pussy so much” his grip on your hips growing even tighter being sure to leave a bruise tomorrow. you moan loudly looking at his face of pleasure in the mirror in front of you. he kisses the crown of your head thrusting faster into you,“cum rafe!” you warn, barely able to form a sentence. “me too sweetheart.” he groans. the knot in your stomach then snaps, covering rafes dick in your cum. you then feel him spill deep inside of you.
he pulls out of you softly flipping you over. “you okay baby?” he asks his, eyes full of concern. “never better,” you smile. he places a soft kiss on your lips, rafe smiles back at you, pulling up his boxers and pants. he then picks up your dress off the floor, helping you put it back on.
you both jump at the sound of pounding on the bathroom door as rafe zips your dress. “the fuck do you want,” rafe yells placing a kiss on your cheek. he swings open the door, still shirtless. “rafe cameron you bastard!” you hear the voice of your brother jj. “jayj! calm down.” you interfere. but jj doesn’t care he continues screaming. “baby go find kie, i’ll deal with him.” he offers you a smile. you give him an are you sure? look, he nods.
a punch is then thrown at rafe,
“worth it.”
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thank you so much for reading!! leave more requests!!
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greengoblinswifey · 3 months ago
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My Winner- Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader
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warnings- unprotected sex, angry sex, creampie, daddy kink, slight argument/angst, fingering, face fucking, choking, ass slapping, degrading kink, praise kink, slight spoiler for s4 ep 1(takes place during s4 ep 1)
Cheering quickly transitioned into worry as JJ easily overtook Rafe in the dirt bike race. You didn’t want to doubt your boyfriend but for a moment it seemed as though he wasn’t going to win— and then he didn’t.
“Shit!” you screamed, as Rafe’s poor attempt of bumping the Pogue’s bike caused them both to come crashing down. It took everything out of you not to run over to him before the race was over.
“Oh my god, are you okay,” you asked, helping your boyfriend from the sand as the crowd ran over to Topper.
As much as you wanted to scold him for endangering himself and someone else, you held your composure.
Rafe was seething, but anything was better than JJ or John B winning the Enduro.
Before driving him home, Rafe and his sister Sarah had a squabble with him accusing her of killing their father. It wasn’t your place to interrupt but you looked at Sarah with apologetic eyes, dragging your boyfriend away before he said anything more hurtful.
“I don’t fucking care,” he mumbled, still seething from losing the race and the incident with Sarah.
“Oh I know you don’t, but how can you say that to your own sister? You know she’s grieving too right? How can you accuse her of killing your father?” He didn’t answer, the grip he had on your thigh getting more painful as you approached Tannyhill.
The door was barely closed before your boyfriend pushed you up against it, his hand around your neck.
“I’ve had a shitty day seeing those fucking Pogues and losing that race, and I don’t need your lecturing making it any worse. I’m gonna take you right here, right now.”
Unable to get a word in, he smashed his lips against yours, his hands going to your ass and squeezing. While you wanted to discuss what happened further, there was no way he’d allow that before he let his anger out. Not that you were complaining.
“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he uttered, his hand swirling your clit with the other hand still around your neck, “you love seeing me all worked up.”
“Maybe a little bit.”
He found the sweet spot on your neck as his skilled fingers swirled your clit, rubbing rough circles and sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body. A gasp escaped your lips as he slipped two fingers inside your pussy, giving you no time to adjust.
“Please,” you moaned, not even sure what you were begging for but his fingers felt too good inside you. The look on his face was almost enough to make you cum. The buzz cut, the dazed, lustful look in his eye as he released your neck from his kisses and stared at you.
“I can feel you just clenching around my fingers, so fucking close, cum for me slut,” he demanded. His thrusts sped up and his thumb rubbed circles on your clit, causing you to release all over his hand.
“That’s a good fucking slut, now, my turn.” He forced you to your knees, stripped himself and you of your clothes leaving you both bare. His cock was painfully hard in front of you, thick with the head glistening.
He tapped your mouth, you already knew what was about to happen. Rafe groaned as he shoved his cock down your throat, bucking his hips and shuddering, savoring how good your mouth felt around him.
“Gonna fuck your throat okay? If you want me to stop, don’t hesitate to tap my thigh.” You looked up at him and nodded, naked on your knees with his cock filling your mouth.
He held your hair in his hands, snapping his hips forward and fucking your throat. Your nails dug into his thighs, trying not to gag and focusing on the feeling of him so deep in your throat.
“God, look at you, on your knees just taking whatever I give you,” he moaned at the sight below him.
Humming around his cock, you used more tongue, swirling it around the head as he pulled out all the way and slammed into the back of your throat.
“I love it when you moan around my cock like a little whore,” he chuckled in between moans.
You could feel how close he was getting as his brutal thrusts sped up and his cock throbbed in your mouth. “Get ready, open up that fucking throat, get ready to swallow every drop of my cum, bitch,” he moaned.
You did as you were told and continue suckling on his dick, his pace faltering as his cum shot down your throat.
“Fucking hell, good girl, that’s my baby,” he breathed, slowly thrusting to make sure you swallowed every drop.
He lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around him, your lips meeting in a sloppy kiss as he tasted the remnants of himself on your tongue.
You opened your eyes as Rafe threw you unto his bed, his cock still hard and ready for your dripping pussy. His eyes were locked on yours as he slowly inched inside you and for a moment you thought you were about to have sweet, loving sex.
“Daddy,” you gasped, feeling him snap harshly against you, his cock practically kissing your cervix. Sweet, loving sex was clearly not in the works.
“Fucking take it,” he whispered, sending shivers throughout your body. His pace was brutal and the headboard knocked against the wall continuously as he fucked you hard.
“Mm, daddy, feels so good,” you cried, his cock going in and out of you roughly, making you see stars and you hadn’t even cum yet. Rafe wrapped his hand around your neck, and used the other to pinch your nipples, making you feel even more ripples of pleasure.
“Fucking cum all over daddy’s cock, now,” he demanded. His lips captured yours as you shuddered under him, your climax overtaking your body, but he didn’t stop. He continued fucking you hard through your climax, your tits bouncing, your body and the bed moving upwards, roughly.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, so fucking hot when you cum for me. Now get on all fours.”
The loss of his cock inside you made you whine, but you did as you were told, going on your hands and knees, arching your back just the way he liked it. “What an obedient slut, good girl,” he cooed.
Rafe pressed your face into the bed as his rough thrusts began, this angle making him feel even deeper inside your pussy.
“Fuck,” he moaned, the sound going straight to your pussy. You absolutely loved when he was vocal.
“Mhm, yeah,” you moaned, as he slapped your ass and dug his nails into your hips, slamming you hard against his cock. He pulled you back by your neck, your back arching off his body, his pace never faltering. “Rub your clit for me baby.” You obeyed, rubbing your clit as he fucked you from behind, moaning in your ear.
“Daddy, gonna cum,” you managed to croak out. This made him speed up his thrusts and he rolled his hips, continuously hitting the sweet spot inside you as you lost yourself on his thick cock.
“Good girl, that’s it, feels good doesn’t it? I know it does baby, I know,” he cooed, “but daddy isn’t done with you yet.”
Your body fell limp on the bed and he lifted your hips, pressing you into the bed as he chased his own orgasm. You screamed, the pleasure almost too much having cum three times already.
“You can take it baby, be a good girl and take what I give you.”
You nodded frantically, rubbing circles on your needy clit as his thrusts got harder and sloppier, the sound of skin slapping echoing throughout the room. With a loud moan, you squirted on his cock, surprising you both and making Rafe spurt his cum inside you almost immediately. He continued fucking you through both your highs as your legs shook and you began seeing stars.
He collapsed on the bed beside you and you snuggled into him, your body aching from the treatment he gave you a minute prior. You lay in silence, only the sounds of your heavy breathing filling the room.
“You’re my winner, Rafe.”
He smiled and kissed your forehead. You always knew what to say to make him feel better.
“I may not have won but as long as I did in your eyes.”
A/N: I haven’t written smut on here in so long but after watching the first episode of s4, i had to😛He looked so hot. Requests are open!
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aperrywilliams · 7 months ago
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That Wasn't Fake (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)
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Author Masterlist
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.
Request: Can you write a Spencer fic where the reader is kind of quiet and shy when she begins working at the BAU, and Spencer has a crush on her, and then they have a case, and she has to like to seduce the unsub lowkey and everyone kind of like...how is she going to do this shes not very outgoing but when she does shes really good at it, and everyone is surprised and impressed.
Summary:  You're shy and reserved. Spencer has a crush on you, and unbeknown to him, you have a crush on him. Maybe the cat can get out of the bag when you have to step aside of your comfort zone to catch an elusive unsub.
Word Count: 4.2k (no self control here)
Warnings: Words like 'fuck' and 'bitch'. A rant about self-doubt. Typical CM stuff: unsubs, killings, etc.
A/N: Another request I loved! It should have been a little shorter, but I'm having a hard time getting to the point these days. Please keep sending requests!
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Spencer knows it is inappropriate, but he can't help it. You're coworkers, and that itself sets a boundary, so he shouldn't be thinking of trespassing.
But the crush he has on you seems to grow every day.
He doesn't know if it is your beautiful smile, the kindness you show in everything you do, or the enthusiasm you put into every task you are committed to. Since the moment he saw you pass the bullpen glass doors, Spencer knew he was damned.
From that moment, Spencer knew he wanted to know you and learn everything about you. About what you liked, what you hated, and what your fears and dreams were. Everything.
But not much after that revelation in his mind, he understood it wasn't going to be easy to get to you.
You were extremely shy and reserved.
In fact, your first interaction - when Emily introduced you both - consisted of a wave of your hand and a timid 'nice to meet you.'
He thought as time went by, you would loosen and become less bashful and quiet. And in part, he was right. As the months passed, you began to feel more comfortable within the team. You laughed at Luke's jokes, you commented on Rossi's stories, and you could even - when the stars aligned - crack a joke yourself to Tara or Matt.
But beyond that, no one knew much about your life outside of the BAU, unlike JJ, who always talks about her kids and her husband, or Matt, who talks about his kids, too. Or Tara, who recounts her failed dates. Or the same Luke who always shows photos of Roxy.
You, on the other hand, seemed to be an enigma. But Spencer Reid loved decoding enigmas.
At first, he turned his interest in you out of mere scientific curiosity. However, internally, he knew it wasn't just that.
It started with small random questions about the times you worked together: Is this coffee okay? What was the last book you read? Do you think we should buy some donuts for the team?
If you were honest, it picked your interest why, from all people, Dr. Spencer Reid was so adamant in making conversation with you.
From what you knew and from what the team said, Spencer was not a person very interested in things other than work or books. But suddenly, out of nowhere, he asked you what the last movie you saw was or something like that.
You always answered his questions; however, you would have liked to be much more talkative and engage in longer conversations, but your nature stopped you.
'What if I don't have anything more interesting for him to say?'
'Does he just talk to me because he feels sorry for me?'
And that was the big issue: you have never had problems with the way you live your life. You're pretty satisfied with what you do in your job and out of it, too. But you have always thought you are too 'simple' to entertain people's interest.
And to be honest, being surrounded by people with so much experience and big things happening in their lives still intimidates you a bit. So, you usually refrain from talking too much about yourself or anything for that matter.
But with Spencer, things are a bit different. He's always checking on you but respects your boundaries. He has learned that sometimes you just don't want to talk, and he doesn't push.
Despite his interest beyond the professional, Spencer would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. Being able to share time with you will have to be enough for him.
In a way, he has become your protector. He is your backup during interrogations or in situations where you can feel awkward, like the times when some police officers tried to flirt with you and got too close. Sure, you know how to turn them down, but sometimes guys don't get the memo and keep pushing. You're too shy to yell or be aggressive about it.
The team also understands the way you are, and they know it does not make you any less professional. However, they have always been careful not to take you too much out of your comfort zone.
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A whole two weeks and five murders later, the team is stuck trying to catch an unsub who has preferences for killing women after club nights. The profile says he is not interested in just any woman but in those between 25-30 years old who like to flirt with several men in the clubs. But it is not just any type of flirting; it is the type that is initiated and dominated by them. In short, he likes to kill women who are the opposite of submissive. He sees them as predators on a hunting ground.
Another finding in victimology is that the women he kills, in addition to having a specific age range, have very similar physical characteristics. And similar to you.
All his victims have your build, eye color, hair color, and height. It gets to be creepy to a certain point. And it's something difficult to ignore.
Bouncing information and possible strategies, the team agrees they need to be proactive to get him to show up before another killing happens.
"Okay, what options do we have?" Emily asks.
"The witnesses haven't gotten us anywhere," Luke complains.
"Although we've narrowed down his hunting grounds," Rossi shrugs.
"Yeah, we know the clubs where he likes to hunt," JJ backs Rossi.
"But although the profile, we have yet to learn about what to look for there. I mean, we know what the unsub wants, but not how he looks like." This time, it's Tara who speaks.
You've rarely seen Emily bite her tongue when she wants to say something, but it's clear that she has something on her mind, and she doesn't know how to put it, or maybe the problem is something else. You look at her out of the corner of your eye, and she looks back at you; what do those eyes say? They look like they're even apologetic.
It's a fraction of the time before she comes back to behave like herself.
"We need to lurk him. It's the only way," she says. And everyone's eyes - yours included - are on her immediately.
"Lurk him?" Matt repeats.
"Yes. And all we know who should be the one going undercover to do that," Emily adds, looking at you this time.
That's it—the elephant in the room.
Of course, you're the ideal candidate. Well, you're perfect in the physical aspect because if we talk about the victim's personality and yours...
There's silence in the room, and you can feel like the team's eyes are all on you.
Do they expect you to say no? To refuse? From your perspective, it's not a question; it's more like the option you all have to catch the guy.
"It's true (Y/N) would be the closest to the unsub type, but there are a lot of things to take into account," Matt says. And you know perfectly well what's behind his words, even if he doesn't say it directly.
And that's okay; it's perfectly plausible they have their doubts. It is not enough to look like the victims for the operation to work.
But if there is one thing you are sure of, it's that you will always give your all to your job, even if that means becoming a completely different person.
"I can do it," you mumbled so quietly that if the AC weren't in the lower setting, people wouldn't have heard you.
"But (Y/N), you know about this guy. It's dangerous," Matt points, a frown on his face.
"Not to mention he likes rough interactions," Luke adds.
"You don't have to do it if you feel uncomfortable." This time, it is JJ who voices her opinion. And you know, that's the closest reason to the team's main concern.
And the fact you can blow up the entire plan.
Spencer stays in silence. Internally he's freaking out thinking of you having to lurk on the unsub, but he knows you are a professional. And he feels a kind of deja vu.
When he was younger, the team would have said the same about him doing something like that. Spencer knows what it's like when people baby you, making you feel insecure. Sure, he hasn't had to worry about that anymore. Spencer is almost forty, and no one would dare to tell him he can't do something. Not after all the things he has been through.
"JJ is right, Bella. You don't have to do it. We can think of another way," Rossi backs JJ.
That's when Spencer notices the slight frown on your face. It's invisible to everyone but him. He knows it's there.
You stay collected, even when everyone on the team has something to say about how bad the idea of you going undercover to lurk the unsub is.
Emily is who stops everyone's rant.
"Guys, hey. If (Y/N) is telling us she can do it, we're going to do it. Of course, we'll be there to back up her and catch this unsub."
And this is how the discussion is settled.
Emily sends everyone out with a task to prepare for the night. Today is Friday, and the unsub will surely be stalking some new victim. The chances are high.
When it's just you and Spencer in the room, he still looks at you in silence.
"Do you also think I'll not be able to pull off this mission and I'm going to ruin everything?"
You downcast your gaze, exhaling deeply.
"No. I don't think that," Spencer clarifies, and you raise your gaze to meet his eyes. "You are more than capable, (Y/N). The team is worried because you'll be out of your comfort zone in a dangerous situation."
"The team? Not you?" You narrow your eyes to him.
You try not to sound accusatory, but if you're as scared as everyone, you also are fed up with the other's doubts.
Spencer closes the distance between you both but doesn't invade your personal space.
"Of course, I'm worried too! I don't want anything bad to happen to you. But I trust you and your judgment."
Your heart does flip-flops, and you're not sure if it's because Spencer is worried or because, despite that, he trusts you—or both.
"You do?" You ask, not so convinced.
Spencer nods and smiles at you.
"And we'll be there when you catch the guy."
If that is the reassurance you need, you don't mention it. Instead, you grin at Spencer as a promise you'll do your job just how you are supposed to.
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You insist on getting ready in your hotel room. The only assistant you ask for is Emily. She was the one who trusted you first in this, so you'll take every piece of advice she can give you before this night starts.
Everyone has a role in the plan.
Rossi will be the chauffeur who will drive you to the club.
Luke and Spencer would be in the club, mingling with the patrons. JJ, Matt, and Emily would be in the van monitoring the whole situation with cameras and earpieces. Rossi would keep his facade as a driver so he could be at one of the entrances. Tara would be at the club, too, eyeing nothing suspicious going on in the bar because there is a chance the unsub is getting help from the bartender.
When you are in front of the mirror applying the last touch of makeup, Emily is looking at you with a stare you can't decipher.
"What?" you ask, and Emily chuckles.
"Please, don't take this in a bad way, but I never thought I would live the day of seeing you using clothing like this. And Jesus, you look so hot!"
Your cheeks redens.
"It's a little bit odd coming from my boss, don't you think?" you muse, smoothing the fabric of your dress.
"Point taken," Emily raises her hands in defense. "Although I know someone who is going to run out of breath after seeing you."
You let out a scoff. It's not a surprise for you. The BAU girls - boss included - have been trying to set you up with Spencer since forever. You don't entertain the idea only because you don't think it's possible and not because you don't like the concept.
"Come on, don't say that. You are not helping to my nerves."
"Sorry, I'll shut up. We should go, though," Emily says, checking her watch.
One of the SUVs drives you to the van parking point. You needed to review the operation details.
At the back of the van - or commander point - JJ, Luke, Tara, Rossi, Matt, and Spencer see you come up with Emily.
For the best US profilers, they're not doing a good job hiding that they are gawking at you. Surely, no one imagined seeing you in such a revealing outfit. Outfit that, without a doubt, suits you extremely well, highlighting all your body attributes.
Spencer feels like he died and was resurrected after seeing you.
"Okay, guys, we need to check the details again," Emily announces.
The plan is in motion, and everyone is in position.
As expected, you arrive with Rossi at the club, who opens the door for you and helps you descend from the car. Rossi gives you a reassuring smile before letting you go.
Like a switch, you are no longer the shy SSA (Y/L/N). Now you are the woman who is going to take what she wants and attract the unsub attention doing that.
Your walk is determined, and your eyes send out flames of confidence to those who look at you. The music is very loud, something that would usually bother you, but not now. This needs to feel like your environment. That's how you like it, you tell yourself.
Almost instantly, you start to attract the looks of men who are eager for a woman like you.
You exude determination, and you don't go unnoticed.
Walking into the club, you make brief eye contact with Luke, who is on the dance floor. You see Spencer perched in a booth, nursing a beer.
At the same time, Tara is stationed at the bar.
"Remember (Y/N); the unsub expects the woman to approach men. The flirt needs to come from you," Emily reminds you by the earpiece hidden in one of the earrings you're wearing.
"Show time," you mumble to yourself.
You walk seductively to the dance floor, where a young man is dancing with a blonde. You approach and whisper something in his ear. That makes the boy completely lose interest in the blonde and start dancing with you. You smile and cling to the man's body, who wastes no time and takes your hips as if they were his possessions.
That dance certainly has nothing innocent about it. You continue whispering things in the boy's ear, and he looks more and more excited. Once you consider it a reasonable amount of time to have attracted attention, you leave the boy alone and head to the bar. Just a few meters away from Tara, a suspicious man is staring at you. You see him out of the corner of your eye as you order a drink. When the bartender passes it to you, you make subtle eye contact with Tara, who nods, indicating that the drink is clean.
You look next to you and see another man not so subtly looking at you. You know the unsub's profile, and you can't be intimidated or dominated by another man. You are the one who calls the shots. Otherwise, this will not work.
Before the man makes his attempt to seduce you, you turn to him, and with a penetrating look and disdainful voice, you stop him.
"Sorry, honey. Don't waste your time. You're not my type," and with that, you leave to move to the opposite side of the club. The guy huffs, and you're almost sure hearing him call you 'bitch' under his breath.
JJ, who's following the cameras inside the club, sees someone who looks suspect.
"Hey, this guy has been peeking at (Y/N) the entire time, and look, he clenched his fists when (Y/N) turned down that guy at the bar."
Emily confirms JJ's observation before giving you the next instructions.
"(Y/N), you're doing great. We have a possible target. So we need to raise the bet."
You know exactly what Emily means. You both had talked about the strategy to follow, having more details about what you should do than the rest of the team.
Matt and JJ look confused at each other but say nothing.
Your next step is to find another dude to seduce before delivering the coup de grace.
Luke and Spencer keep an eye on you. And while Luke is pleasantly surprised by your audacity, Spencer can't help but feel his stomach tighten. He tells himself it's because he is afraid something bad could happen to you, but inside of him, it's that and the fact of seeing you flirt with other men.
Just like you did with the guy on the dance floor, you attract the attention of another man; this time, you take his hand and pull him to the dance floor.
JJ and Matt's jaws drop to the floor. If Tara, Luke, and Spencer could do the same without giving themselves away, they would have done it, too.
As if it were your second nature, you laugh and move to the music. The man seems to enjoy the moment so much that he takes a bold step by leaning in to kiss you. You let him get closer until his lips are almost on yours. But before touching each other, you pull back with a malicious smile.
"Naughty boy. I'm who says if you can kiss or no," you pout, faking disappointment. Dizzed, the guy cocks his head and sees you walk away.
Matt chirps now. "It's him. Look boss," he tells Prentiss, pointing to the same guy JJ saw before.
There is no longer any doubt that it is him. Now you just have to catch him red-handed.
"(Y/N), we got him. It's time for the last play," Emily tells you.
With Emily's instruction, you go to the bar for another drink before heading over to where Spencer is sitting.
He tries to play it off, but he has no idea why you're approaching him.
"Is this seat taken, handsome?" You ask, with your drink in hand.
"N- no. Please," Spencer gestures to the booth on his front, but you opt to perch to his side. Spencer thinks he never has been this close to you. He looks at your eyes, and it's like you are a totally different person. It's a little bit contradictory for him, to be honest. He already likes you just as you are, but this version of you? It's driving him insane.
Some resemblance of your true self looks with a kind of curiosity the nervousness on Spencer. You don't think much about it; you assume he's playing the nervous guy who is baffled by you.
The thing is, Spencer isn't playing. He's definitely baffled by you.
"Are you okay?" You ask him, masking your question with a seductive smile.
"Yeah. Are - are you?" Spencer stutters a bit—something that is perfect for the plan but embarrassing for him.
You get closer to him to speak in his ear.
"This was Emily's idea," you tell him before kissing his ear and gently biting his lobe.
Spencer's breath hitches in his throat, and he thinks he's going to pass out any second. You're not doing it better: your heart is also pumping hard from the adrenaline. Of course, you had imagined something like that with Spencer, but only in your erotic dreams. You wouldn't dare do this on any given day.
You keep teasing Spencer, who, despite the nervousness, tries to play along. If this is the closest he will ever have you, he wants to engrave this in his memory.
"Just a little push, (Y/N). We almost have him," Emily instructs by the earpiece.
You swallow as subtly as possible as you wrap your arm around Spencer's neck, pulling him closer to you.
It's only a second between that action and the fact that you're kissing Spencer like it's your last meal.
Spencer doesn't know how to respond, and you were counting on that; it was enough time for the unsub to notice that you were the one who chose her last prey.
When Spencer is about to reciprocate the kiss, you murmur a 'sorry' into his lips and quickly pull away, giving him a disdainful look—which you hope he understands is fake—before getting up and walking toward the back exit door.
As expected, the unsub follows you towards the back door, and while your back is turned, he believes he has the advantage to attack you. What he doesn't know is that Matt and Luke are ready to lunge at him the moment he tries to touch you.
Everything that happens after is too fast.
The unsub is detained and taken to a patrol car while the team gathers around you, congratulating you on the successful operation. They all apologize to you for their previous apprehensions. You tell them that you understand and that there is no need to apologize. And it's like the switch has been flipped again since you came out of the femme fatale role.
But something is wrong. Spencer is not in the group. You see him a little further away, near the exit door of the club. Emily notices the looks between you both, and she sends the team on different tasks to close the case, leaving you and Spencer there.
There's something in his eyes that you can't decipher. You think it's resentment for using him without warning him what you were going to do.
You shyly approach him.
"It's me again," you tell him, pulling a face. You don't know what to say to make the situation better. Spencer nods.
"Yeah. You did it great, by the way," he compliments you. But it doesn't feel good like Spencer's compliments usually do.
"Look, about the kiss back there-" you start. He needs an explanation as a bare minimum.
"I know. It was fake," Spencer cuts you off.
Those words shouldn't hurt you as they do now. But isn't that the most reasonable thing to believe? The you in the club weren't you, so all you did inside was pretend.
Everything except that kiss.
If it's true you couldn't enjoy it the way you would have liked, you will never forget his lips on yours.
A tense silence takes over the moment. This is not okay.
You can't afford to lie to one of the most important people in your life, even if telling the truth takes you out of your comfort zone.
What the hell! Tonight has already been a total of 180 from a usual day for you.
"It wasn't," you mumble, and you see his eyes flicking to yours in a second.
"What?" Spencer asks, narrowing his eyes at you.
"Everything was fake, but not the kiss," you say with a stadied voice this time.
Spencer's heart races again. If you say you didn't fake it, then what he felt on your part at that moment was real?
"It wasn't fake?" He asks for clarification. You nod.
A smirk forms on Spencer's lips, seeing your cheeks redden.
There you are. The girl he had fallen for in the past two years.
"Well, you know that I am a man of science, right?" he tells you, and you frown because you have no idea where this is going.
"I know," you say with some hesitation.
"And as a man of science, I need evidence of things, you know?"
Now, you are the one who smirks at him.
"Evidence, huh?"
"Yep," he says, emphasizing the 'p' and swaying his body on his feet. You hum.
"I believe I can provide the necessary evidence if you need them," you concede, and Spencer's eyes sparkle with excitement.
Now, he is the one who reaches out and cups your cheeks. Your breathing quickens, but that doesn't stop you from standing on your tiptoes and connecting your lips with his.
This time, there is no unsub, no curious eyes are looking at you, there is no rush, there is no femme fatale role, and above all, this is not fake; it's as real as the fact that your heart beats for him, and his for you.
------------------ 
Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers 
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reidrum · 6 months ago
Text
wine or wine not | s.r
spencer reid x bau!reader
a/n: i think i love writing buildup to smut than actual smut, but i hope you guys like this lmk what you think. this was requested with the prompts "look at me when you come on my fingers" and "muttering compliments kissing down their body" and it was so much fun to write aaaaahh, my requests are open so please send more!!! guidelines in pinned <3
summary: you're hopelessly pining after spencer at a rossi party, and when you run into him in the kitchen when you're getting a refill and he asks if you want to explore the mansion with him, who are you to say no?
cw: 18+ minors dni pls, fingering, p in v, nipple play, soft!dom!spence, spencer being ridiculously hot its criminal, ooc penelope but it was for the plot, pining idiots, wine cellar sex wine cellar sex wine cellar sex, public sex, morgan and prentiss being dumb, rossi being a smug lil shit, a dumb ass title sorry i didn't know what else to name it lol
wc: 4.1k
★・・・・★・・・・★・・・・★・・・・★
these days rossi was always finding some reason to throw a party at his mansion. you’re not exactly sure what it was tonight, a birthday? an anniversary? regardless, you and the team appreciated the excuse to unwind, dress up, and have non murder related fun.
the sun is setting over the rolling hills the mansion is perched on, and you’re sat at a table with the girls— penelope, jj, and emily discussing penelope’s latest dating escapade. you’re trying hard to pay attention, you really are, but it proves to be difficult when you’re focused on the man showing magic tricks to the kids across the room.
you look on yearnfully as spencer pulls a coin from jack’s ear, all the kids are laughing and cheering and he has the biggest smile you’ve ever seen.
“hellooo?” penelope waves a hand in front of you dramatically, “i’m getting to the good part and you’re off in space!”
you jolt back to the present, “sorry pen, i’m listening i promise. so he shows up to your door with maple syrup and feathers?”
“YES, anyways so then he’s like i have a proposition for you…” penelope continues her story but you can’t help but zone out again. your eyes drift back to boy genius as he finishes another trick for little henry before rising up to his full height. it’s in that moment his eyes meet yours and softens as he offers you a small wave. 
you return the gesture back which causes the girls at your table to look in the same direction and they come to a glaring conclusion too quickly.
“ah, that’s why you’re not paying attention. too busy ogling mr. houdini over there.” jj remarks.
“i am not!” you scoff.
“oh you so are,” emily says, “when are you going to let yourself feel your heart’s full content.”
“first of all, i can’t stand you. second of all, it’s not worth it. he would never feel the same about me.” you say as emily rolls her eyes.
this time penelope interjected, “oh don’t be so cynical. you haven’t even tried how could you even know?”
but you did know. it’s not that spencer didn’t like you, he treated you the same as any team member, but that was just it. you wanted him to see you as more. during cases you would try to impress him or make breakthroughs in the hopes he would tell you ‘good job’. a couple times you brought him coffee when you got yours, just to hear him say your name and thanks. work conversations rarely seemed to move past small talk, but you’re a little sure that’s on your part because he just made you so nervous. and like, he’s a profiler. so you’re sure to some degree he knows how you feel, and it just makes you regress into your safe hole even further because you think he’s being nice by not acknowledging it and saving you the embarrassment.
the girls knew about your harbored crush for a month now, since the last bau drinks night you got a little too truthful during truth or dare. you were much younger in comparison to your colleagues, so they offered their sympathies at your unrequited love and tried to get you to come out more and let loose.
which is one of the reasons you’re sitting in rossi’s living room, wine glass in hand, as morgan recounts the craziest date hes ever been on. the other reason, which you wouldn’t admit to anyone, was so you could admire your (not) lover from an acceptable distance and not risk embarrassing yourself.
so here you are, two glasses deep, rising up from your spot on the floor telling everyone you’re going to get a refill. your heels click against the hardwood floors all the way to the kitchen where you just so luckily run into the (your) man of the hour.
“hi.”
you were looking down at your feet as you walked to the kitchen, your head snapping up to meet the voice, “hi spencer.” you said softly.
“if you’re looking for more wine, i think emily just grabbed the last bottle,” you must have outwardly deflated as he continued, “that bad out there?”
“only so much wine can get me through penelope’s sexcapades and derek’s crazy one night stands.” you joke.
he chuckles back, “oh i know, why do you think i’m hiding out in here?”
you laugh again before an uncomfortable yet strangely comfortable silence falls between you both. unknowingly you both take turns gazing at each other, indexing the others features as if this moment would be the only chance you got.
you’re about to take your loss and leave when spencer speaks up again, “you know, i wouldn’t put it past rossi to have a secret wine cellar somewhere.”
“honestly, you’re probably right. what kind of italian just runs out of wine.”
spencer pauses slightly before saying, “do you want to see if we can find it?”
you look at his eyes again and catch a glint of mischief? concern that you’re wine-less? whatever it is, you take the bait.
“i’m game.”
rossi’s mansion was humongous. it was well known that he was loaded from his years in the bureau and multiple book deals, but holy shit, the rooms just seemed never ending, and none of them were a wine cellar.
“i don’t know spence, i'm starting to lose hope, and debating to revoke rossi’s italian card.”
you’re both in one of the many studies and are about to leave to find another room, when spencer notices a smaller door next to the study. he slowly opens it and peaks inside to find a descending wooden staircase. he looks at you with a smirk, “i think we just found it.”
he holds the door open and gestures you to enter first, following shortly behind you as he shuts the door. he makes sure to check that it’ll still open even after it’s shut, and you both relax a little seeing it still unlock. you move down the stairs, gripping the handrail and praying you don’t trip over your heels and fall to an embarrassing demise.
spencer descends a step behind you, trying so hard not to let his eyes wander down your bare back to the curve of your hips. once he steps off you both go in opposite directions to explore. you take in the vast amount of shelves and wine racks, taking note of how it seems to be separated by year and by type. running your fingers over the labels, you’re intrigued by a shelf with the year you were born, and pause in front of it. you reach up to a shelf that is just a smidge taller than you, hoping to grab the neck of an old wine bottle.
even in your heels you’re struggling, attempting little hops to try and reach. you’re about to give up when you feel a warm hand on your right hip, while an outstretched arm on your left seamlessly grabs the bottle and brings it down to you, “careful sweetheart, don’t wanna break that pretty head of yours.” spencer says lowly.
excuse me, what the fuck did he just say.
you inspect the bottle he so kindly brought down for you, but it’s a futile effort. you can’t even remember why you wanted to see it. all you can think about is your hands clamming up, sending threats to the wine bottle it’s holding. your mind is fogging up fast, and you’re trying to order your brain to say something instead of going mute while he’s still an inch behind you. with his hand on your hip still.
“oh god,” you start shakily, “you scared me spence.” you angle your body to the left so you can attempt to show how unbothered you are and look at his face.
good save (not).
he’s staring down at you with a hint of a smirk on his lips, like he’s keeping a secret from you. his eyes are intently focused on you when he speaks again, “just didn’t want you to get hurt. s’all.”
with his close proximity, you’re sure he can hear your heart beating through both of your chests, hell it was so loud they could probably hear it upstairs. he’s still got you caged in front of him when he continues, “any particular reason for this bottle?”
“yeah no, i just, wanted to see what bottles of wine he had from the year i was born.” you answer, watching as spencer moves back to give you space when you turn to face him.
he nods, “did you know that wine is associated with the greek god dionysus?”
“no i didn’t, actually.”
“it’s really interesting,” he moves forward a tiny inch, “they call him the patron god of wine, but a lot of people often forget that he’s also the god of fertility and ecstasy.”
oh. “ecstasy?” you whisper confusingly.
“yes, he believes when you drink wine it gives you emotional and physical pleasure.”
“how does that even work?” you nervously laugh.
spencer reaches his arm above your head, never breaking eye contact, and grabs two wine glasses by their stems, “you wanna find out?”
with only so many words, you give another nod. he uncorks the bottle with ease and pours out two glasses, with his having a little less than yours, most likely due to his slow but steady return to drinking casually. clinking your glasses, you take a big gulp hoping it’ll satiate the building nerves. but you’re watching the way his fingers wrap around the glass, his veiny hand showing prominently and you’re unable to focus on anything else.
“you know, i’ve been running something of an observation the last few months.”
you take another small sip, starting to feel less nervous, “oh yeah, what about?”
“you.”
it took everything in you not to spit your drink out all over his suit. 
“me?”
he nods after another sip, “i’ve been watching you, and not in a creepy way i swear. but i’ve been keeping track of your habits; how you take your coffee, your tells when a case gets too much, things like that,”
that didn’t seem overtly terrible to you, you knew spencer was an observer of his environment, always seeking out patterns to aid his predictions. you’re about to speak when he cuts you off.
“i’ve also been noticing how you seem to change, when i’m in your presence.”
you feel like the sweat and nerves are just oozing out of you at this point, and he continues his verbal taunt.
“i’ve seen your breathing rate get faster,” he moves a step forward, “how your cheeks rise with the faintest red, kind of like right now,” another step forward, “and how you try to avoid looking directly at me because you think i’ll find out everything if you do.”
the room has to be at least a thousand degrees at this point, heart beating so fast it’s probably gone to the moon, and your brain just unable to have any coherent thoughts at the realization that maybe you weren’t as subtle as you thought.
he takes one final step to close the gap between you and delicately places two fingers on the pulse point of your neck, “i couldn’t figure out your heart rate from afar,” he pauses to count, “but now that i know it, i can come to my conclusion.”
the air in your lungs has all but escaped, nowhere to be found. “and wh- what is your conclusion d- doctor reid?” your voice betraying you by dripping with anticipation.
“that i make you nervous. do you agree? do i make you nervous?” he says while you feel the hot breath of his whispers ghosting on your lips.
your mouth opens to say something and then shuts, because what the hell are you supposed to say? any and all logic has left the room, but the last working neuron works to make an unthinkable conclusion of your own. there is no way.
spencer moves his fingers to grip your chin between them, guiding your face to look directly into his copper eyes, “i asked you a question angel, do i make you nervous?”
you’re cornered, “y- yes.”
“why’s that?”
“spencer..”
“is it because you’re thinking of me the same way i think i about you?” his thumb starts tracing the outline of your lower jaw. he’s pressed right up against your chest, his other arm covertly moving to snake around your waist. the way you lean in subconsciously towards him, paired with your silence is all the confirmation he needs.
the pad of his thumb traces your lower lip, dragging it downwards a little. there’s a hitch in his breath when his eyes flicker from your lips back up to meet your eyes again. he quietly mumbles, “can i?”
your eyes widen slightly, relishing in the way his arms are holding you firm and steady. this was about to really happen. you’d been pining after him all this time, believing you were destined for unrequited love. but as spencer stands in front of you, looking at you as if he’d been poisoned and the only antidote is your lips, you can’t help but wonder if there’s been a similar weight on his side that’s been holding him back too.
so you nod once again, and trust your voice this time, 
“yes.”
you’re fully expecting him to go into it full force, and kiss you like a man starved. but he lets the premonition bubble for a little longer as he so agonizingly leans down and closes the gap, teasing you with the ghost of his lips on yours without making contact. he waits a moment, and just as he predicted your subconscious betrays you again and you impatiently lean up in an attempt to meet your lips together. spencer can’t help but smile before he softly pressed himself against you.
the feeling of his mouth on yours is something you can only describe as cosmic, like a star exploding into a supernova, emitting a powerful and luminous show of energy. it’s all consuming, the light reaching every neuronal end of your body and electrifying it ten times over. your hands reach up to tangle in his curly hair and he lets out the faintest whimper, spurring you on to grab it more earnestly.
spencer loses all restraint. his hands begin furiously mapping out your body, running up and down your back, reaching down to grasp a handful of your ass. he moves his hands down further to grip your thighs, effortlessly lifting you to sit on the counter behind you. spencer slots himself between your legs and continues kissing you, his mouth marking a hot trail to your neck as he mutters between, “is this okay?”
“please don’t stop.” you moan softly.
his fingers move to deftly slide the straps of your dress off your shoulder, mirroring the movement on the other side while continuing to work his down your neck. he slides the dress far enough down to expose your chest, immediately taking the swollen nub into mouth and running circles around it with his tongue. you let out a sharp gasp at the sudden warmth, whimpers leaving your throat. he repeats the motion to the other one as you cradle his head closer in an attempt to keep him there, as if spencer had any plans of leaving.
he moves his mouth back up to meet yours again, in a lust filled attack sending shock waves straight to your core. you move your fingers to work the buttons of his dress shirt and spencer moves his hand further south and under the hem of your dress, something you don’t notice until his thumbs are rubbing circles onto the plush of your inner thighs. it makes you falter on his last button as he pushes your legs farther apart,  inches closer to where you desperately need him.
spencer looks directly into your eyes as his thumbs reach up to hook onto the side of your panties and slowly move them down your legs. he groans outwardly at the resistance caused by your slickness, “all this for me, baby?”
you’re rendered speechless watching spencer and his ministrations but he continues, “you are so goddamn beautiful, you know that?” his fingers are less than an inch away from your cunt, “i see you walk around the office in those tight pants, your hair and makeup all done, and those blouses jesus,” he reaches your entrance and dives in to collect your wetness, you brokenly moan as he begins to spread it all over. “couldn’t tell if you hated me for the longest time.”
“c- could never hate you.” you whine.
“i know baby,” he slides his middle finger into your hole, “just imagine the fun we could’ve had if we figured this out earlier. but it’s okay, we have all the time now.” he sets a steady rhythm before inserting his ring finger, actively working you towards a barreling orgasm.
“spencer, fuck, oh god.”
“you’re so fucking wet, bet you’re gonna come soon, right? gonna make a mess on my hand?” he baited.
you’re in shambles, one hand deathly squeezing onto one shoulder the other turning white from the grip you held on the counter. the moans won’t stop falling out of you, he works his fingers so skillfully within you it’s impossible to hold any resolve when he curves upwards and hits that spot.
your head tilts back, reeling from the intense pressure coil building inside you, the peak about to hit you any moment now. spencer uses his free hand to move your head back down, “look at me when you come on my fingers.”
that was all it took for the white hot to ravage through you, engulfing every sense and leaving you breathless. he continues moving his fingers through your orgasm, watching as you come back down to him. you don’t waste a second reaching for his belt to unfasten it, slipping your hand down to palm him through his boxers. he moans in your ear as he feels you slip inside, your small hand moving up and down, and getting impossibly harder when you take your hand back up to spit on it to then return to your movements.
you take the moment to lean into his neck and leave bites of your own, finding his sweet spot right behind his ear and sucking hard. spencer’s hands have taken a spot on your lower back beneath your dress, pressing so hard with his fingertips you know there’ll be evidence of this night tomorrow.
“spence..” you mutter in the crook in the neck.
“yeah baby?” he whispers back.
“can you fuck me now?”
he preens at your boldness, and wastes no time pulling his pants and boxers down enough to fully free himself. he pulls you closer to the edge of the counter before pulling his length out and giving it a few strokes. he lets it glide between your folds, gathering your wetness as lubricant as it hits your clit. both of you are panting hard realizing the anticipation has led to this moment. spencer positions himself at your entrance, never breaking eye contact with you, and watches your face drop into a perfect ‘oh’ as he pushes in.
spencer is absolutely wrecked as he hears your breathing pick up, reveling in the vice grip your cunt has on him. you’re no better above him as you’ve broken eye contact to stare at where the two of you connect, watching as he disappears into you and the feeling of being so full overtakes you and you’re letting out soft expletives. he bottoms out and stalls for a minute, waiting for you to signal that you’re okay for him to move. in the time he’s waiting, he takes a moment to really look at your face, how absolutely ruined you look, your cheeks are deeply flushed, hair flying in every direction, and he can’t help but tell you, “you look so pretty.”
your eyes soften as you gaze back at him and nod slightly, and he pulls back all the way to ease in again experimentally. once he hears you moan out loud at the movement, and feels you tighten even more around his cock, he loses any and all restraint he’d been holding onto this entire night.
his hips pick up the pace in harsh snaps to your core, sending ripples of pleasure all over you. your arms are wrapped around his neck attempting to pull him impossibly closer to you, “spencer…fuck…” you drawl with a whine.
“i got you baby, gonna take good care of you, promise,” he says back in between grunts. the sentiment causes you to squeeze on his cock again as he attempts to continue, “if you keep…fuck…keep squeezing me like that i’m n- not gonna last long.”
one hand in his hair and the other leaving dark red scratches on his back, you feel your second orgasm of the night hastily creep up on you. he can tell you’re close and quickens his pace as he thumbs your clit. you moan his name out once more before reaching your peak, feeling like your body is on fire as he continues to fuck you through it. 
spencer feels his own release building up, “wh- where should i..?”
“inside, i’m on the pill just please come inside me.”
it was more than enough for spencer��s movements to stutter as he released his hot load in you, groaning out loud as he finished.
he slows to a half, still hilted inside of you but softening post orgasm. you’re both breathing heavily as you look up at each other and take in the other’s fucked out faces. spencer presses a chaste kiss to your forehead before resting his own on it, “that was..”
“intense,” he quirks his eyebrows at you, “in a really really good way.” you add quickly.
he smiles down at you, “i wasn’t kidding, what i said earlier. i think about you an embarrassingly high amount each day. i’d love to take you out and make this a real thing.”
“yeah?” you gape incredulously, “thought i was the one embarrassing myself if you were able to notice all those things i did when you were near me.”
he laughs, “no, no it was endearing, definitely made it easier to be as forward as i was tonight knowing you wouldn’t freak out.”
you’re about to respond when you hear the door to the cellar open, you’re both hidden from view but know it’s only a matter of seconds before someone catches you. you both look at each other in panic as spencer pulls out of you, tucking himself back in and zipping up his pants. you grab your panties from the floor and begin to pull them up your legs when he notices his come dripping down your thighs. he swiftly gathers the release on his fingers and shoves it back inside you, causing you to let out a near pornographic moan as he pulls up your underwear all the way.
“did you guys hear that?” a voice sounding like emily said.
“see this is why i don’t do big houses like this, too many creepy ass noises.” morgan.
“mansion,” rossi corrects, “and for a couple of profilers, you both are stupid if you don’t know what that sound was.”
your eyes widen to match spencer’s, you’ve been caught.
“was it a mouse or something?”
“no more like, bunnies,” he joked with an innuendo, “come on, i found the bottle i was looking for, let the bunnies do their thing so they can leave and go home to do whatever it is bunnies do.”
“you’re a weird old man david…” emily muttered.
the door closes and you both let out a big breath, and burst into a fit of laughter, “how the hell are we gonna show our faces to him on monday?” you whine.
“that is a monday us problem,” he starts, “but right now, i think it’s time for me to take you home.” he winks.
two stuffed bunnies show up on yours and spencer’s desk on monday. you’re both redder than a tomato as rossi chuckles when he walks by. prentiss and morgan are still confused.
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rafecameronssl4t · 7 months ago
Note
I need more season one rafe fics please! I love your writing!! Also, last fic was amazing! Tbh I'm not a fan of #her ( yes I'm a hater)
Midsummers || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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Summary: It was concerning stumbling across your boyfriend and JJ fighting, but what was more concerning was his comment about Kiara.
Warnings: swearing, mild fighting? if there’s anything else lmk
Word count: 1,425
A/n: my summaries are always so shit 😭 anyways…. this was so much fun to write 😭 if u want more s1 rafe lmk and send thru requests!!!
MASTERLIST
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Divider by @yoonitos
“Rafee,” you squeal, feeling his hands firmly grasp your ass, igniting a wave of pleasure that you struggle to contain. His lips trace a heated path along your neck, only intensifying the sensation and making it harder to stifle a moan. “It’s fine, no one’s coming here,” he mutters against your skin, his breath hot and reassuring as it mingles with your mounting desire.
A sudden knock at the door makes Rafe groan in annoyance. “What? We’re kinda busy here!” he yells out, his frustration evident. Undeterred, you press a trail of kisses along his jaw, your lips trailing down to his collarbone, trying to distract him from the interruption.
Topper and Kelce walk in making you huff in annoyance, pulling away from Rafe, who glares at their direction. “Seriously, guys?” you mutter, irritation clear in your voice. “Sorry—uh—JJ just walked in,” Topper stammers.
At the mention of JJ’s name, Rafe’s expression darkens, and he quickly rises to his feet. “What the fuck is that pogue doing here?” he spits out, his eyes flashing with anger. Without waiting for an answer, he glances at you sharply and commands, "Stay here." With that, he storms out of the room, his frustration palpable. You watch as they leave, leaving you alone. With a huff, you get up and begin wandering around the room, trying to find something to entertain yourself.
~
Rafe and his friends race through the island club, their eyes sights set on JJ. He darts through the crowd, but they close in on him, finally cornering him in the locker room. Kelce moves swiftly, seizing JJ and locking him in a tight headlock. JJ struggles, but Kelce’s grip is ironclad. "Hold him still," Rafe commands.
Rafe smirks, his eyes glinting with cruel amusement. "What do you think? A 4 iron, right?" he asks his friends playfully as they all chuckle. "Keep his head still, yeah, Kelce? I'm gonna line this up." Rafe adjusts his stance, mimicking the motion of a golfer about to take a swing. JJ, despite Kelce’s suffocating grip, manages to choke out, "Very Rafe of you. Five on one?"
"If you could please stop talking. It's very disrespectful. I'm trying to hit a ball, alright?" Rafe snaps, his tone sharp and irritated as JJ continues to struggle. He gives a disapproving shake of his head. "Hey, learn your etiquette, my friend." His voice drips with condescension as he lines up his imaginary shot, the tension in the room growing thicker by the second.
~
As the minutes tick by, your boredom intensifies, and you decide to defy your boyfriend's request. Leaving the room, you set off in search of Rafe. It doesn't take long before you hear his voice echoing down a hallway.
Rafe snorts derisively as he examines JJ's bruised and bloodied face. "Your face looks really bad. Starting to look a lot more like your dad—" His sentence is abruptly cut off as JJ spits directly into his face.
“Oh, shit,” you mutter under your breath, feeling your heart rate quicken as the scene unfolds before you. "Rafe?" you call out, stepping forward. Your eyes lock onto JJ, who is trapped in Kelce's grip, his expression defiant despite his situation.
As you approach, Rafe wipes his face and slings his arm around your shoulders, pulling you tightly against him. His grip is firm and almost possessive, a clear display of both his irritation and protectiveness. You can feel the tension radiating from his body.
"What the fuck are you doing here? I told you to stay in the room," he mutters against your head, his voice low and angry. You shrug, unable to find the words to explain your disobedience.
You glance at JJ, who despite his predicament, meets your gaze with a steely resolve. His eyes flick between you and Rafe, and for a moment, a silent communication passes between you. The air is thick with tension, a volatile mix of anger, defiance, and barely contained violence.
Rafe’s friends stand around, their faces a mix of amusement and anticipation. Kelce maintains his grip on JJ, his muscles taut with the effort of holding him still. Rafe’s irritation is palpable, his jaw clenched and his eyes hard as he stares down at JJ.
"Y'know, I never understood why you're dating him, Y/n," JJ says, his eyes raking over you. A scoff escapes your lips as you feel Rafe tighten his hold on you. "What's that supposed to mean?" you ask, tilting your head slightly in challenge.
"Well, isn't it obvious?" JJ chuckles, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You need a man, but he's high off his ass every fucking day. That's not very manly, don't you think?" His words hit you hard, and your face falls. "Are you trying to get killed pogue?" Rafe growls, pushing past you to storm up to JJ.
“Rafe, it’s not worth it,” you whisper softly, placing a hand on his arm to pull him back. But Rafe’s jaw is set, his muscles taut with rage. Suddenly, the lights begin to flicker, and a man walks in. "Gentlemen!" he announces. Kelce immediately releases JJ, shoving him towards you, but Rafe moves quickly, pulling you out of the way just in time.
"Is there a problem here, guys?" The security guard scans all your faces. "Pardon me, officer," JJ quickly interjects, trying to regain control of the situation. "No, there's not an issue. I just—actually, yes. No, there is an issue."
"Uh, we got a criminal trespass in progress here. Beep! Call it in, right?" JJ continues, his voice trembling slightly with mock seriousness. You watch in amusement as Rafe scoffs at him.
"Blatant disrespect for private property—" JJ starts again, but Rafe cuts in "Yep," his voice dripping with sarcasm. "—I'm in violation of all kinds of shit, sir."
The security guard raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by the theatrics. "But these young gentlemen..." JJ begins, reaching out to adjust Kelce's wonky bow tie, but Kelce aggressively pushes him away.
"Don't touch my shit," Kelce snaps, his tone sharp with irritation. JJ stumbles back, caught off guard. "...Uh, caught me, sir, and they're about to take me away," JJ continues, trying to regain his composure amidst the tension in the room. Your head begins to ache from the sheer amount of talking he's doing.
"And that's what you should do, escort me out of here. You got me," JJ says, extending his wrists as if offering them up for arrest, a sardonic grin playing on his lips. You all watch in amusement as he puts on a show for the security guard.
"Come on," the guard says, pulling JJ along with him. "All right. Fix that tie, son," he adds, glancing back at Kelce. JJ turns to Rafe with a smirk, "You're looking spiffy too."
"You powerpuff girls have fun!" JJ taunts, addressing Rafe and his friends before being led away. Leaving your side, Rafe hollers out, "Tell Kiara she looks pretty hot for a pogue!" The words hang in the air, and your jaw nearly drops to the floor at the audacity of his comment.
In a split second, JJ breaks free from the guard's grasp and charges towards Rafe, but Kelce is quick enough to stop him from getting any closer. "You think I'm afraid of you, bro?" JJ shouts, his voice filled with defiance as the guard yanks him away once more.
"Hey! Safe travels back to the cut," Rafe calls out with a smirk on his face, clearly unfazed by JJ's threats. "This ain't over!" JJ shouts as the guard shoves him through the door, his voice echoing down the hallway.
"Hey, hey, it was really nice seeing you again, JJ!" Rafe's voice echoes down the corridor, breaking the tense atmosphere that hangs thickly in the air. He turns, a grin playing on his lips, only to catch your unimpressed expression.
"What, baby?" he questions, his smile faltering slightly as he moves to embrace you, but you push him away with a firm hand on his chest. "The fuck was that for?" Rafe's confusion is evident, his brow furrowing as he tries to make sense of your sudden reaction. The other boys shift uncomfortably, their eyes darting between you and Rafe.
"Are you fucking serious right now?" you snap, your frustration bubbling to the surface. Rafe's expression shifts from confusion to concern, his brows knitting together in worry. "What?" he responds, his voice tinged with confusion.
"Tell Kiara she looks pretty hot for a pogue?" you spit out the words, your tone dripping with venom. "I said that to piss him off, I was fucking joking, wasn't I?" Rafe protests, seeking validation from his friends, who quickly nod in agreement.
"Ha. Ha. Funny joke, Rafe. It had me rolling on the floor," you retort sarcastically, your tone laced with bitterness as you push past him, the fabric of his shirt grazing your fingertips. "Y/n," Rafe starts, reaching out to you, but you cut him off with a sharp glare, your eyes flashing with anger.
"Don't fucking talk to me, dickhead," you say, your voice cold and cutting as you storm away, leaving Rafe and the boys in stunned silence.
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miedei · 8 days ago
Text
terrible profilers
(aka the team meets early seasons!spence's not-so-secret girlfriend)
a/n: this came to me in my dream last night and i cannot get over it, pls send asks/requests and tell me what you thought!
cw: reader has she/her pronouns, the team is nosy, my niche personal headcanons of how i think spencer would text, probably more tech inaccuracies
wc: 3.5k
part one
(reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )
mlist
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The moment Spencer walks into the bullpen, he knows something’s up. Garcia never replied to the text he’d sent on Friday night, and he’d hoped she was just busy on their first weekend off in a while, but it’s clear there’s more. Clutching the strap of his satchel, he walks to his desk, observing the strange tension blanketing the room. For one, Hotch and Gideon are in the bullpen, standing in the corner speaking in hushed tones. Weird. They usually go to one of their offices to talk, and either way, they usually are stuck in their offices until lunchtime when they don’t have cases. Another thing. JJ and Penelope are standing around Elle’s desk, which isn’t out of the ordinary, but they’ve swivelled around to stare at Spencer like he’s an alien (which they do on occasion, but Spencer is pretty sure he hasn’t been strange yet. He just walked in!). Derek is sitting on Elle’s desk, leaning over to huddle with the three girls, but he’s frozen with his mouth open, like he just shut up for some reason.
“Uh… Good morning.” Spencer furrows his brows, but tries to shrug it off, more interested in the smell of coffee emanating from the kitchenette. Setting down his bag, he quickly busies himself with pouring his signature overly-sweet (according to you) coffee.
It’s like his movements snap a thread that has been holding his colleagues together, and they suddenly start bustling around the bullpen again. Derek sidles up beside him as he’s stirring in sugar, and Spencer braces himself for some Morgan-esque prod. But what he says has Spencer confused.
“Kid. You know you can tell me anything, right?”
Ok, something is going on. Spencer has worked with Derek since he was 22, and they’ve fallen into a very comfortable dynamic ever since. But neither of them have ever felt the need to reassure the other of their closeness.
“What’s up, Morgan? No jabs today?”
Derek stiffens, like he’s been caught in a lie, and scrambles to reply.
“Well… We- Um, Garcia worried about you on Friday. What was up with you leaving so suddenly?”
Spencer has to bite back a smile, memories of you, coming to ‘O Keefe’s just to see him, flooding into his mind. But he answers as smoothly as possible, still turned away from Derek as he elaborates.
“Oh, I felt a bit sick. I think it’s going back and forth from the more arid parts of the country that did it. Did you know, travelling between warmer and colder climates makes you more susceptible to contracting viruses because it strains your immune and musculoskeletal systems, causing the feedback loop of homeostasis to-” Derek puts a hand on his arm, and Spencer quiets.
“Okay, okay, pretty boy, I get it.”
With that, he walks off, and Spencer is left at the kitchenette, stirring his coffee, confused. It’s not like it was a lie, he was feeling a bit nauseous in the bar, so you insisted that you go home. He recovered that same night over a cup of tea, Metropolis on the television, and you cuddled up on the couch next to him.
When he walks back to his desk, mug in hand, he calls out to JJ, still standing by Elle’s desk.
“JJ, no cases today? …JJ?” The blonde is looking at him, but his words seem to fly right over her head, until Elle pokes her shoulder.
“Oh! No, the cases I’m being called about are still pending, we’re probably not leaving on anything until tomorrow.” Spencer smiles softly, glad to have at least one more night sleeping at home this week. Because of his reverie, he doesn’t notice the way JJ, Penelope and Elle are staring at him, befuddled expressions on their faces.
The day continues to be a little weird, much to Spencer’s chagrin. Around 1pm, Gideon emerges from his office again. This, already, is out of the blue. Gideon only leaves his office an average of 3.78 times a day, mainly to go to Hotch’s office, or to go home. This time, however, Gideon marches to Spencer’s desk.
Gideon comes to a stop next to Spencer’s desk chair, and it’s all he can do to muster a blank face and look into his mentor’s eyes.
“Hey, Gideon. What’s… What’s going on?”
The older man sighs wearily, looking down his nose at Spencer, looking uncannily like Spencer’s highschool Calculus teacher when she got irritated at him for being a ‘13 year old know-it-all’.
“Reid. You weren’t sick on Friday, were you?” What is happening? Spencer doesn’t lie, he’s never told Gideon something untrue, so this is incredibly out of the blue.
“Huh? No, what’s wrong? I felt nauseous, which could’ve been a symptom for an inner ear problem, inflammatory bowel disease, gastroenteritis…” Spencer continues to rattle off a list of things he could have had, not noticing the uncharacteristically soft, paternal gaze that Gideon has trained on him.
“...and even a brain tumour, but it was probably because I drank more than I usually do. Why do you think that’s not true?” Spencer finishes his little speech, looking up at Gideon with a confused expression. There’s nothing else the older man can do but sigh, patting his shoulder softly.
“Okay, Reid. Glad you’re feeling better now.” With that, the experienced profiler walks away, not bothering to reply to Spencer’s continued questioning:
“Gideon! What’s wrong? Why are you-” Gideon’s office door slams shut.
Unfortunately, Spencer cannot ignore the rest of the signs, spending the rest of the day in a state of coiled anxiety. Something is going on, but he can’t get anyone to tell him.
Derek and Elle are constantly glancing over at him, unreadable expressions on their faces. Penelope keeps finding excuses to go to Spencer’s desk, and even if Spencer wasn’t a profiler, he’d be able to see the words bubbling up in her throat, but she never says anything.
JJ doesn’t come talk to him at all, which is strange. Instead, she shoots him knowing looks whenever she’s in the bullpen, sending Spencer into a spiral every time she doesn’t say anything about why they’re all acting weird.
He’s even caught Hotch and Gideon peeking through the blinds over their office windows to look at Spencer, with the analytical looks they get when they’re observing a crime scene on their faces. It’s driving Spencer crazy, and he has to tell someone.
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You’re leaving your desk at the university when your phone buzzes.
SPENCE <3: Hi. I looked normal when I left the house, right?
Your brow furrows at the text. Normally Spencer isn’t a fan of texting while he’s at work, and you’d told him multiple times how handsome he looked when he left the apartment this morning. He’s wearing his striped white button down and the purple tie you bought him for his birthday last year, he looks pretty. And you made sure to tell him so.
YOU: hi <3
YOU: no spence you look pretty i told you this morning didnt i?
SPENCE <3: You did, thank you. Everyone’s acting weird at work, and I can’t think of what it could be.
YOU: maybe its something with a case?
SPENCE <3: They would tell me if it was that, right?
YOU: ur right
YOU: if you cant think of it with that big beautiful brain its probably something to do with them
There’s a solid minute of silence before he texts you back, and you grin to yourself as you walk through the halls. You can see the flush growing over his face in your mind’s eye, the way he does every time you pay him a cheesy compliment.
SPENCE <3: I guess so. They won’t tell me anything about it, which is strange.
You frown a little, imagining his frustration at being out of the loop. Spencer has expressed his love for his coworkers to you many times, but he’s also told you about his struggles feeling like the ‘baby’ of the office, and the way it makes him feel isolated at times. Racking your brain to think of a way to cheer him up, you check the time on your watch (the twin of which is settled on Spencer’s wrist).
YOU: its nearly 6
YOU: if i leave my building now i can make it to your office in 30mins
YOU: i can pick you up and we could get thai for dinner
YOU: ?
The reply is instantaneous, and you smile, looking forward to seeing him earlier than you’d expected today.
SPENCE <3: That sounds great. I’m finishing up here but text me when you’re in the lobby and I’ll come down.
SPENCE <3: I need to go, I’ve been texting you from the bathroom.
SPENCE <3: See you soon :-)
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The last half hour of Spencer’s workday flies by, unlike the way the clock had crawled previously. He finishes up the consults he was working on for the day, and begins packing up the moment the clock hits 18:27.
Derek and Elle are still sneaking glances at him, but Spencer couldn’t care less at this point. As he closes the flap of his satchel, his phone buzzes in his breast pocket. He can’t help but whip out his phone immediately, missing the bewildered looks that pass between his fellow profilers as he smiles down at the screen.
Y/N L/N: in the lobby now! i forgot how fancy it is here i feel underdressed
He doesn’t bother replying, instead opting to leave the bullpen through the glass doors, nodding at Derek and Elle, and pressing the elevator button immediately. He’s so engrossed in his thoughts as he stares at the closed doors, that he realises far too late what’s happening behind him.
He can hear the sounds of shuffling feet, a squeak of surprise (Penelope), hissed insult (Elle to Derek), and a firm clearing of a throat. Hotch. After sighing petulantly, Spencer turns on his heels to find the entire BAU team standing there, faces just as confusing as they’ve been all day.
“I’d ask you what’s wrong, but none of you gave me an answer the last 23 times I asked, so.”
There’s a beat of silence, before Hotch, of all people, says, “Reid, we need to… ask you something. About last Friday.” That’s strange. Spencer cocks his head in confusion.
“What about it? I already told Morgan and Gideon, I was feeling sick, but it turns out it was just that I’d just drank more than I was used to.”
Penelope looks like she’s about to burst, and finally, she blurts it out, voice slightly shrill. “Reid! Who is she?”
“Who is who?”
Derek butts in, a hand on Penelope’s shoulder. “Kid, that girl. The girl you were… close to, on Friday. At the bar?” Oh. That’s what they’re talking about?
“That was Y/N. My girlfriend. Are you mad I didn’t introduce you guys? I thought you were all busy.”
Spencer sees six sets of jaws drop. There’s more silence, before JJ croaks out, “Girlfriend?”
It’s a bit of a sight, to be honest. Penelope has clutched on to Derek, and Derek on to Elle. JJ is gobsmacked, eyes bulging out of their sockets. Even Hotch and Gideon look the most shocked Spencer has ever seen them. But why?
“Uh, yeah. She came to see me because we’d had plans before we decided to go out. Then when she found out I felt sick we went home.”
Gideon looks a little green, and when no one makes a sound, Hotch speaks, his normally stoic voice coming out a little shaky. “Reid, we didn't- We didn’t know you were seeing anybody.”
What? Now they’re being even weirder. Spencer can hear the elevator doors open behind him, but he doesn’t bother. This is something he has to get to the bottom of.
“How did you not know? I’m sure I’ve mentioned having plans with her multiple times. Elle, I told you about the time I went to the movies in New York with her, when we were on that case.” Elle looks more shocked, if that’s possible, but doesn’t say a word.
“Garcia, I asked you to help me find florists that have Gibraltar campions in Vegas that one time.” Penelope jolts, muttering under her breath about ‘idiot geniuses and their mothers’.
“Gideon, I asked you for advice on how to ask her out!” Gideon stiffens, remembering the time Spencer had asked him about his ex-wife. Was that Spencer asking for advice?
“I ran into you, JJ and Morgan, when I was with her, don’t you remember? She was in the aisle over” Derek distinctly remembers a time at the bookstore, they’d seen Spencer, but not noticed anyone with him. JJ shamefully recalls being too busy making fun of Spencer’s heart-studded tie to look around.
“Hotch, I told you about her! When I added her to my emergency contacts?” At this, Hotch pales. A year ago, Spencer had come to him with a request to change his 1st emergency contact from his mother to a Y/N L/N. How he never registered that this was a girlfriend, Hotch would never know, but he stares fixedly at his shoes as he contemplates quitting his job as a profiler.
Spencer looks at them, mystified. How did they not know? It’s not like he was ever hiding you! Of course, Spencer wanted to keep you to himself, so he didn’t talk about you that much, but they were profilers. He assumed they’d known, and just didn't want to embarrass him.
His phone buzzes twice, and he pulls it out to see another text from you.
Y/N L/N: spence are you coming
Y/N L/N: a guy in a suit is eyeing me weird he knows i dont belong come save me
A happy sigh leaves him, before he remembers the people standing in front of him, still gobsmacked. He scrubs a hand down his face wearily, and mutters slowly, as if he’s not sure if he wants to do this.
“She’s downstairs right now, we were going to take the metro home together. Do you… Do you guys want to meet her?” Penelope brightens up, and the rest of the team seem in higher spirits, despite their continued disappointment in themselves. Warily, Spencer opens the elevator door with a press of a button, and they all file in obediently.
“Please don’t be weird.”
“My good doctor, I would never!” He eyes Garcia with a fearful expression, but presses the ground floor button anyway. As the doors close, a strangled shout leaves JJ’s mouth.
“Wait, you live together?”
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You are sitting on a bench inside the FBI Headquarters. No matter how many times you drop Spencer off or pick him up, this will always be surreal to you. And, right now, it’s not just surreal, it’s a little scary.
A real Danny Ocean type guy is sitting on a bench across the room, talking on the phone and eyeing you. Clearly, you don’t exactly look like an agent, you know that. Dressed in the uniform of a PhD student, jeans and an oversized Doctor Who t-shirt (Spencer’s), you know that you look out of place.
You’re just hoping Spencer walks out of the elevator before you get escorted out on suspicions that you’re a spy or something.
Like some deity has heard your words, you look up at the ding of the elevator to see Spencer… and a whole gaggle of people behind him, slapping at his shoulders and barraging him with questions. He looks harried, a line between his pretty eyes.
The line disappears, though, when he locks eyes with you. His eyes light up, and his steps grow in length, before he's left his entourage behind, at least for a couple of seconds.
He uses this time to explain to you: “Hi hello I'm so glad you're here and I need to tell you something-” As if on instinct, your hands come up to rest on his upper arms, thumbs moving in circles soothingly as he continues to ramble.
“-and well, they didn't know about you somehow? Which is crazy to me because you know I don't hide you so I don't know where they got that from but either way they were acting crazy, so I suggested they come meet you, and…” The group of people you now recognize to be the BAU have caught up to him, eyes darting between your face and Spencer's. His shoulders slump, and the agitated look returns, if a little less intense.
“Well, here they are.” He motions to the group behind him. “These are my coworkers, Jennifer Jareau, Elle Greenaway, Penelope Garcia, Aaron Hotchner, Jason Gideon, and Derek Morgan. Guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.”
Rising on your toes to see over his shoulder, you wave with a smile, eyes zeroing in on Penelope Garcia, who looks like she's vibrating from excitement, shouldering past Spencer to hold both of your hands.
“Hi! It's so good to meet you! I'd say I've heard a lot about you, but you know that's a lie, we didn't realize you existed until 10 minutes ago, but oh my god! You're here! You're so pretty- Spencer, she's so pretty!” She's practically bouncing up and down, causing Spencer to laugh sheepishly.
“Yeah, Garcia, I know that.” The next few minutes are a barrage of introductions and handshakes, all so brief that you can only get quick first impressions of them all.
Penelope is incredibly kind, not letting go of your hands until Spencer pries her off of you, telling you that you have to come out on girl's night with us, exactly like Spencer described her.
Elle is nearly intimidatingly cool, giving you a handshake and a smile, mentioning that she likes your eyeliner.
Aaron (Hotch? You're not sure how to refer to him) is nowhere near as stoic and intimidating as Spencer makes him out to be, breaking into a smile as he introduces himself, and grinning even wider when you congratulate him and his wife on their newborn child.
JJ is the sweetest. You've heard a lot about Spencer's best friend, and she lives up to expectations, squeezing you into a chaste hug with warm words.
Gideon is a little terrifying. He gives you a handshake, quirking the side of his lips in what you assume to be a smile, but saying very little beyond an introduction. You know how highly Spencer thinks of him, and hope he will warm up to you (Spencer is over the moon that he smiled, and tells you Gideon loved you later that night).
Derek is exactly how you expected him to be. Somehow, he makes you feel wholly comfortable after a single comment, and promises to regale you with all the Spencer stories you'd want (you see him punch Spencer in the arm, grinning and saying he approved).
Spencer pulls you away from them as quick as he can, citing your dinner plans as an excuse. He slings an arm around your waist, leading you out the door as you wave over your shoulder.
“It was great to meet you guys! We should go out to dinner or something!” You hear mixed shouts of agreement from behind you, before the doors shut and it's just you and Spencer, on the sidewalk outside the building.
It's butterfly-inducing, the way you can see the tension leave his shoulders when he turns to look down at you, brown eyes shining.
“I'm sorry that was so last-minute, I know they can be… a lot.” You giggle at the weariness in his tone, resting your forearms on his shoulders.
“They were really nice, Spence. I'm glad to finally meet them. They didn't know who I was?” He sighs, hands tightening slightly on your waist.
“I don't know what goes on with them half the time. I've told them things about you so many times, but they were just being dense, I suppose. They saw us on Friday, at ‘O Keefe’s, and they had no idea I was seeing someone!” He bends to rest his forehead in the crook of your neck with a sigh. As if on instinct, your hands come up to play with his hair.
“I guess they would have found it a little strange that you acted like nothing had changed, huh? Is that why they were being weird today?” He grumbles unintelligible words into your skin, before raising his head to look at you.
“I guess… You know I wasn't hiding you, right? I really thought they knew about you,” The earnestness on his face makes you want to implode, his thumbs rubbing minutely on your waist. Speaking would pop the bubble you've found yourselves in, so you find the best next option for you to show him your assertion.
Your hands roam up his neck to cup either side of his jaw, and slow, slow, slowly, you rise to your toes and kiss him.
Suddenly, Spencer's not worried anymore.
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multifandom-exe · 2 months ago
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Oblivious - A. Hotchner x Reader
Request: Hotch x bau reader where hotch has feelings but reader is completely oblivious? 
Word count: 2k 
A/N: this is a rewrite of a fic from like 5 years ago, if you want to check out the original here to see how much has changed. Feel free to leave requests! PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK IN COMMENTS OR ASKS PLS i need to know if I'm still writing like I'm 14 😭.
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The line. There was always a line. A line between good and evil. A line between love and hate. A line between professional and personal. That was a line you loved to flirt with, to teeter on, to play with like it was your favorite toy. Of course, you shouldn't be flirting with your boss, but when he was stood there, in that suit that highlights his shoulders and his wrists and his thighs and oh god... 
“(Y/N)?” And the way your name came from his lips was like heaven on earth right there. “(Y/N)?” What? A hand lightly brushed against your shoulder as he moved his head to be in eyeline with you. Slight concern in them as he gave you a small smile, sending electric through your body and thoroughly grounding you to earth. 
“Yes, I'm sorry, I'm just... tired.” You tried to look anywhere but his eyes as you so desperately tried to cover the train of thought that had your skin buzzing and your heart racing. You glanced at his hand on your shoulder as he took it away, wanting to whine at the loss of contact.  
Flirting with your boss was your own self sabotage. But you relished it every time. Every touch he missed. Every glance he didn't see. Every time your heart rate sped up as you saw him leave his office. He didn't notice any of it. And it made you want him all that much more. You should've been glad. Ecstatic even. Because once he realized you liked him, in a way he didn't like you, in a way no subordinate should ever like their boss. That line would be crossed. And no amount of ‘I'm sorry’ or ‘let's forget about it’ could undo it. 
Morgan and JJ stood a length away, taking in the scene in front of them. You, absentmindedly playing with your hair, a sign of flirting. And him, fiddling with his hands as he looked into your eyes whilst you spoke. 
“Do you think they’ll ever notice the other is so head over heels for them?” JJ stated, watching you two with a look that's usually only reserved for Henry when he doesn't understand what he did wrong, or when Emily is openly talking about someone right behind her. A grimace more like. 
“Nope.” He started, popping the ‘p’. “They've been doing this dance for too long; I'm starting to think it's never gonna happen.” He tutted and tried to take his eyes off... whatever was happening over there. 
“You look nice today, by the way. You do every day, but you know.” His attempt at flattery didn't go amiss as you smiled bashfully. 
“Thank you, so do you. I enjoy this side of you much more, the happier side. Is this some new technique to raise team morale?” You quirked an eyebrow as you smiled at him, desperately trying to quell the faint blush on your cheeks. 
His smile faltered slightly. Right. The team. It's been years since he flirted with anyone and clearly, he must be doing something wrong if you're thinking of him and the team. Every day he saw you. And every day he just wanted to throw caution to the wind and hold your hand, touch your face, stroke your hair. Feel you. Gently. Fully. Months. Months of slight flirts and fleeting touches and he feels no closer to being with you now than when you first joined the team. How one of his best profilers could miss something that was right there, he would never know. He was sure he was getting to the point where he looked pathetic. Rossi had even mentioned it to him, a late night in his office over a bottle of scotch. ‘I'm starting to question your profiling skills Aaron, if you two could see what everyone else sees, you'd know there's no question about what happens next with you two’. But here he was, trying his best to put his heart on his sleeve, and even that wasn't working. Or maybe it was, and you knew, and you were simply saving him the embarrassment of rejection. 
A cough broke him away from his thoughts. He looked at you as you nodded your head towards your nosy team members, who stood absentmindedly watching the two of you. He copied your cough and looked pointedly at his team. 
“Back to work.” He said firmly, turning to touch your arm and give you a small smile before returning to his office. Your cheeks heated as you stared at the spot on your arm, slowly walking back to your desk. You sat in your chair, thoughts going a mile a minute and you sighed, pulling your files closer. 
“Oh, Hotch your just so dreamy!” Morgan lays his hand dramatically on his forehead, attempting to mock you. 
“Oh (Y/N), you look absolutely ravishing today.” Emily came over to join in the teasing, doing her best Hotch impression. 
“What are you two idiots yapping about?” You looked up at the scene, laughing inwardly at their antics. 
“Cmon, Hotch is so into you!” Came from JJ as she giggled softly. “And I'm willing to bet the feeling is reciprocated.” She tugged at your cheek, pointing out the obvious blush dusting them. 
“Okay, we’re all bullying me, stay mad.” You tried to joke but they all gave you pointed glares like you were the stupidest person in the world. “He is not into me! He just wants someone in this office to actually do their work.” You giggled before pulling all your files together. You pushed your chair back and stood up to deliver your files for the day. 
“Keep telling yourself that, Sugar!” Derek shouted as you walked away, receiving an unceremonious middle finger in response. 
You jogged up the stairs to Hotch's office, raising your hand to knock on the door, finding it already open. Your heart hummed against your chest at the thought of him hearing the ‘workplace gossip’. Well, can it really be gossip if it's true? 
“I have the files you wanted.” You held them close to your chest as you absentmindedly played with the small pieces of paper sticking out. The tension in the office was palpable. The same tension that hung over you when you looked a little too long, or smiled a little too brightly.  
His head snapped up at your voice and he broke out into one of those very rare Aaron Hotchner smiles TM. “You can just put them there.” He pointed to his desk, trying to shield his face that sported the same bright pink as you. As you approached, he begged to every god on earth you couldn't hear his heartbeat threatening to break out of his ribs. There was a beat of silence as you put the files down. You knew you shouldn't linger, but you couldn't help it. Youd do everything in your power to look at him a second longer each time he leaves. He looks up at you. He really looks at you. Eyes so bright whilst still working a job like this. Plump lips being gently bitten between your teeth. That conversation, outside. A conversation he never should've heard. This was his in. 
“They are right you know.” Your head lifted gently, taking you away from whatever thoughts lingered. Your eyebrows knitted together as a nervous smile and quizzical look painted your face. He stood and moved around his desk toward you. “i am ‘so into you’.” He tried his best to keep his earth shattering confession as light hearted as he could, rolling his eyes a little at the end of his sentence. He sucked in a breath as your face didnt move an inch from the shocked look plastered on it. God. This was the worst idea ever. He could already feel the anxiety and the nervousness and the everything, trying to claw its way out of his throat. His usual stoic look must have faltered, as he felt you lay your hand on his arm, breaking through his layer of despair. 
“Hotch.” Your eyes softened as you looked at him, and your eyes closed lightly, a blush spreading on your cheeks. It felt like this wave of emotion had hit you and you just wanted to cry. The line. It had been crossed, and it was so utterly terrifying, and felt so fucking amazing. 
He had obviously mistaken your soft tone as one of pity, of rejection. He stuttered slightly and turned his back to you, flushing deeply. He babbled, about how ‘sorry’ he was, and how we should ‘just forget he said anything’. God, he had taken risks in his life, but this was possibly the most, stupid, miscalculated, inconcieve- 
“Hotch!” Your raised voice broke him out of his spiral as he turned to face you once more. You moved toward him and lightly pushed a stray hair from his forehead. He so desperately wanted to lean into your touch. “Whatever is going on in that pretty little head of yours, at least let me finish what i was saying.” He shook his head lightly, like he was trying to shake his thoughts away, as he gazed into your eyes for the first time since his confession. “I'm totally into you too.” You mirrored his earlier words with a slight giggle. And just like that, a wave of emotion erupted in him. He breathed deeply, not realizing he was depriving himself of air waiting for your answer.  
He moved to softly run his thumb over your cheek as he gazed at you lovingly. “I've been wanting to tell you for so long. I tried flirting but I figured I just wasn't very good because you hadn't realized.” 
“Stop. I've been doing the same thing!” You gently dropped your head to his chest, laughing incredulously at the stupidity, that two very intelligent profilers had missed all of this. So oblivious. Both wrapped in their own little world of desperate pining.  
“How about i take you on a date? I could definitely use some time away from this office.” He lifted your chin gently, so you were looking into his eyes. 
“I couldnt think of anything better” You gazed at him, happiness threatening to burst your heart into two. 
Bonus 
Through the large office window, the 5 profilers stood, huddled around your desk, staring intently, like it was the finale of their favorite rom-com. They all sighed a huge breath as they saw you lay your head on Aaron's chest, all turning to eachother with the most shit-eating-grins. 
“I think, Reid and Morgan owe me 20 bucks.” Rossi smirked as JJ and Emily burst into laughter. Morgan hit himself on the cheek playfully with a little ‘ouch’ before rooting through his pocket for a 20. Reid had tried to argue ‘as Hotch's best friend, of course you'd understand him the best’ But it was to no avail, as Rossi just stuck his hand out and gave him an unconvinced look. He sighed and rooted through his pockets.  
After much laughter and gossip, they all turned back to see you placing a chaste kiss on his cheek and hurrying out of his office. They caught him lifting a hand to where you had kissed. Upon realizing his blinds were open, he promptly shut them, trying his best to plaster his intimidating look back on his face. You stopped at the top of the stairs as you realized all eyes were on you. You coughed and tried to indignantly hide the blush that coated your cheeks.  
“Back to work.” 
-
let me know what you think! and pls request this was so cute.
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@back-totheoldhouse
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littlelamy · 3 months ago
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three’s a charm; rafe x reader x jj
a/n: i was inspird by @rafeyscurtainbangs post! so please enjoy🤭
warnings: suggestive
the fire crackles behind you, but it’s nothing compared to the heat between you, jj, and rafe. they’re both sitting way too close—close enough that you can feel jj’s knee pressing into yours on one side, while rafe’s hand rests dangerously on your lower back, fingers grazing the bare skin beneath your shirt.
you hadn’t expected this. maybe you’d picked up on the tension between them before, the way they always seemed to push each other’s buttons when it came to you, but tonight it feels different—heavier. and now, you’re caught in the middle of something that neither of them seems willing to back down from.
jj’s the first to make a move, his eyes locking on yours with that mischievous glint you’ve seen a thousand times before. only this time, it’s different. "you ever wonder what it’d be like, huh?" he asks, voice low as his hand slides up your thigh. "being stuck between the two of us?"
you swallow, your breath catching as you feel jj’s grip tighten slightly, his thumb brushing the inside of your leg in a way that has you holding back a gasp. you glance at rafe, but his face is unreadable, eyes dark as he watches jj’s hand on you, his own fingers tracing soft circles on your back.
rafe doesn’t respond, not at first. instead, he leans in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispers, "i don’t think she’s ready for that, jj."
his breath is hot against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. your heart is pounding in your chest, the tension crackling in the air around you. before you can say anything, jj’s fingers tilt your chin up, his blue eyes staring down at you with a smirk playing on his lips.
"oh, i think she can handle it," jj murmurs, his mouth so close to yours that you can feel his breath. "but maybe you’re the one who can’t handle it, rafe."
rafe scoffs, his hand sliding up your back and resting on your shoulder, pulling you just a little closer to him. "keep dreaming, maybank," rafe mutters, but there’s a dangerous edge to his voice. it’s like a challenge, one that jj is more than willing to accept.
before you can react, jj’s lips crash against yours, catching you off guard. his kiss is rough, demanding, like he’s been holding back for too long. his hand grips your thigh, holding you in place as he kisses you deeply, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that leaves you breathless.
you don’t even have a moment to recover before rafe’s fingers slip under your chin, gently pulling you away from jj’s kiss. his touch is softer, more controlled, but his eyes burn with something darker as he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a way that makes your heart race.
"not so fast," rafe whispers, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip before his mouth captures yours in a kiss that’s just as intense, just as overwhelming. rafe’s kiss is rougher this time, like he’s trying to prove something, and you’re caught in the middle of it, your senses overwhelmed by the push and pull between them.
jj isn’t done, though. his lips are back on your neck, trailing soft, teasing kisses along your skin that send a jolt of electricity through you. you gasp, your head tilting back as jj’s mouth continues to explore, his hand sliding higher up your thigh, dangerously close to the edge of your shorts.
you feel rafe’s hand tighten on your waist as jj’s lips brush over the sensitive spot just below your ear. "you like this, don’t you?" jj murmurs against your skin, his breath warm as his tongue flicks over your pulse point. "being the center of attention. being ours."
it’s not a question. it’s a statement. and the truth is, you do. you’ve never felt like this before, caught between the two of them, both of their hands on you, both of their mouths claiming you in their own way. it’s intoxicating, overwhelming, and you don’t want it to stop.
rafe pulls back slightly, his lips ghosting over your jawline as his eyes lock on jj. "think she’s ready for both of us?" rafe asks, his voice low, dangerous.
jj grins, his teeth grazing the skin of your neck. "guess we’re about to find out," he mutters, his hand slipping under your shirt, fingers brushing the bare skin of your stomach. his touch is light, teasing, making you squirm between them.
rafe chuckles, a dark, rumbling sound that sends another thrill through you. "better hold on tight, baby," he whispers, his hand sliding lower, gripping your waist as he pulls you closer to him. "you’re in for a ride."
and then, almost in sync, both of them lean in. jj’s lips meet yours again, softer this time, teasing, while rafe’s mouth trails down your neck, his breath hot against your skin as his teeth graze your collarbone. you’re caught between them, their bodies pressing against yours, their hands exploring, their kisses leaving you breathless and dizzy.
you don’t know where jj ends and rafe begins anymore. it’s all heat, all need, and you’re the center of it, the object of their desire. their hands slide over your skin, their lips moving against yours, and you can’t help but get lost in the sensation, in the way they both seem to want you, need you.
jj pulls away first, just enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours as his thumb brushes over your cheek. "still think you can handle this?" he asks, his voice rough, breathless.
you don’t have a chance to respond before rafe’s lips are back on yours, his kiss more demanding this time, his hand slipping lower, pulling you against him. "you’re not going anywhere," rafe whispers against your lips, his fingers digging into your skin. "you’re ours."
taglist (comment below if you want to be added): @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0
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corrcdedcoffin · 9 days ago
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teenage dirtbag, baby
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jj maybank x reader
requested: yes
warnings: none. fluff, pining. one use of y/n. jj is a big ol’ softie and nervous boy here. poorly proof read. i’m not entirely happy with this but it is what it is i guess. 18+
gif not mine!
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it was so typical to want what he can't have.
it went against basically every rule on kildare island. kooks and pogues aren't friends; avoid each other at all costs. date in your own social circle. but he couldn't help himself and the big, fat crush he had on you, ever since the day he'd saw you.
it was at the wreck. kiara was helping out one weekend, back when she went to the kook academy for a year. she was behind the counter while jj, john b and pope sat at it, listening to her qualms about her new school.
you were with your family having lunch, pope noticing how kiara kept looking over to you.
"is she one of the mean ones?" he asked, everyone else turning to look at you as you were wrapped up in a conversation, moving around animatedly.
"no," kiara breathed out, "she's pretty cool, actually. she's in my art class. i think she keeps more to herself."
"why don't you try being friends with her?" pope suggested.
she shrugged. "yeah, maybe."
the conversation moved on, but jj couldn't stop looking over at you. if he were in a cartoon, little heart bubbles would be floating all around him, and there'd be a tiny heart shaped arrow stuck in his chest.
he hadn't seen you around for a long time after that. not until the next year at school, when you were at the public school instead of the academy. you certainly looked like a pogue — maybe slightly more well groomed and fashionable, but nothing about you screamed kook.
by the time he'd worked up the courage to introduce himself to you, you were gone.
he saw you around a lot after that. every time he'd wander the halls when he was supposed to be in class, he'd peek in every window to see if you were behind the door. he didn't see you for a few days until he passed the art room at lunch.
there you were; headphones on, slightly swaying side to side as you painted, stopping every few moments for another bite of your lunch.
art never made much sense to jj, he didn't like having to think about what something meant, or being told what he was supposed to feel when looking at something. but he knew one thing for sure: you were insanely talented, and he’d happily sit in a room full of your paintings.
this is his chance, he thought, but you looked so focused and in the zone that he didn't want to disrupt you, so he left.
you invaded his dreams basically every night since.
it was probably for the better anyway, he thought to himself. jj was… well, jj. a dirt poor stoner who hardly ever went to class in favour of smoking and surfing. and you? you oozed intellect and creativity.
a while later he'd learned your name from kiara, impressed with himself how casually he brought it up. "i think i saw another girl from the kook academy here" he'd said.
"oh, yeah. that's y/n, the only other reasonable and cool person that went there."
"do you know why she left?"
"no idea" kiara shrugged. "maybe they bullied her out like they did with me."
and that was it. after he'd learned your name, he found you on social media and began to... observe.
it wasn't like you were secretive, but you weren't exactly an open book like some people were on socials. your instagram had a few selfies, photos of your art, your friends, and some landscapes. your twitter was all over the place, from memes to thoughts that were definitely while high. it only made his crush grow ten times bigger. maybe you were more alike than he thought?
he followed you on instagram first, and was incredibly pleased when he received a notification that you requested to follow him too a little while later.
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the school year was going by fast. valentine's day was coming in hot, and small tables were set up to send a rose with a note to whomever you pleased. jj decided to do it.
he wrote your name on the little card, writing a small message about how talented he thought you were as an artist, and that one day he'd love to buy your work. he left a heart at the bottom with no name, and carried on with his day.
on valentine's day, he could see roses being handed to people left and right. this was the first time in a while he'd seen you in the cafeteria during lunch instead of the art room, but then again he was hardly ever there. you were sitting at a table with people from the chess club, reading a book as you ate.
god, you were so different from him.
a student approached you with a handful of roses, and handed you two. jj tried to push down the jealousy that bubbled up. did you have a boyfriend he didn’t know about?
one of them you rolled your eyes at, the other made you smile. he hoped it was his. you studied the flower for a while before looking around the room, eyes eventually locking onto his. he tried to stop his cheeks from going red, resorting to hiding his face and turning away from you.
why the hell did you make him so nervous? he was jj fucking maybank. talking to girls was an easy feat for him — it had never been a problem before. he felt different with you though, less like you were another to fool around with mindlessly, and more like you were someone he actually wanted to get to know.
when he had the courage to look back at you, you were gone.
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the end of the year bonfire was a big tradition on Kildare island. all kooks and pogues would gather together at the boneyard for a night of partying and officially transition from school year, to summer.
it wasn't as big or fun as the end of summer bonfire when all the tourons would join in, but it was still a good time.
jj had shown up with pope, meeting kiara and john b there. to his surprise, they were talking to you.
none of his friends knew about the massive crush he harboured. he kept it quiet cause he didn't know how to actually deal with his feelings, so he swept them under the rug and accepted that you'd never acknowledge him, let alone like someone as damaged as he was.
but when kiara pointed out him and pope to you, you smiled.
she introduced you to them, pope shook your hand and jj offered a shy wave. he could feel the way john b was eyeing him down at his actions, the bastardly flush returning to his cheeks and ears. the boy smiled at his friend, asking kiara and pope to join him for a beer, purposely leaving jj alone with you.
you broke the silence first.
"kiara told me you're a really good surfer" you'd said.
he shrugged, "yeah, i guess. been doing it my whole life." he couldn't look at you. he wanted to, badly, but he was so unbelievably scared. instead, he dug his foot in the sand, kicking and twisting.
any other time he would have boasted about being the best surfer on the island, but he couldn’t right now. why the hell couldn’t he talk himself up to the girl he likes?
"i'm terrible at it. i tried last summer for the first time and i think i spent more time in the water trying to fight it than actually standing on the board" you joked, and he let out a small laugh.
"have you ever thought about like, being an instructor or whatever for beginners?"
were you hinting at him?
"not really, but it does sound like a good idea. maybe i'll start, be a good summer gig" he shrugged, finally looking over to you.
he'd spent so much time admiring you from afar or through instagram posts, but he was still just as mesmerized. you were absolutely unreal up close. the sun was behind you, illuminating you as if you were an angel. you had incredibly smooth looking skin, and it looked liked you’d spent lots of time outside; a subtle tan accompanied by a tinge of pink across your nose and cheeks. there was a small scar on the middle of your nose.
he wondered where it came from.
"i can be test subject number one,” you suggested, “if you can't help me, then i'm afraid there's no hope for either of us."
conversation flowed easy after that. he learned that you left the academy simply because everyone was a massive dickhead, and you weren't about that. he learned about your childhood injuries (including the scar, that you got from pulling a cats tail) and dreams, your current dreams, and that you weren't as scary as he made you out to be.
actually, he felt rather calm talking to you once he got past his nerves. it was like catching up with an old friend he didn't know he was missing.
you talked all night long, neither of you realizing you'd completely ignored your friends until they came up to you saying they were heading home. looking up, you realized most people had already left. jj's friends looked at him expectantly, while he looked at you.
"you staying?"
you looked around for your friends, unable to spot them anywhere. "guess i should head home. my friends already left i think."
jj nodded and stood up, offering a hand to help you. you walked to the parking area with them, and said your goodbyes once they were at their van. "where's your car?"
"oh, i didn't drive, my friend did" you told him.
"and they just left you?!"
you shrugged, "i don't mind the walk."
jj pursed his lips in thought. the nice thing to do right now was offer you a ride, but he didn't want to be nice. he wanted to be a little selfish and have more time with you.
"i'll walk with you" he said before closing the van door and jogging over to you, not saying a word to his friends. the way you smiled at that made his heart jump with glee.
the entire way, you didn't stop talking. both of you were on a roll of asking questions and sharing stories, laughing and walking as slow as you could so you'd have more time. it was electric. for the first time in a long time, jj felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be, and he was happy with it. he felt good, like this life wasn’t so bad after all.
your hands brushed together as you walked, legs moving in sync. occasionally your shoulders would bump into the other. by the time you got home, it was nearly 2am.
jj walked you right to the door. seeing your house was a reminder of how different you were, it slightly bruised his ego and confidence again, but then you looked at him and it all washed away.
it was obvious that neither of you wanted to say goodbye, but you were the one to make the move and ask for his number.
"sorry if i bored you to death tonight and kept you away from all the fun party stuff" you said as you put your phone back in your pocket.
jj shook his head. "i was so far from bored. i had a lot of fun with you. actually i—" he let out a big breath, "i wanted to talk to you all year, i was just nervous."
"what! really?"
he nodded. "yeah. kiara recognized you from the academy, and at first i tried to get her to go make friends with you, but she was scared cause of all the shit that happened there.
"and then every time i wanted to talk to you, you were so busy and focused on your art or reading, and i didn't want to interrupt. which, by the way, you're an incredible artist. if i ever get rich one day, ill be your number one buyer."
you smiled at him, your heart swelling at the realization that the anonymous rose you'd received on valentine's day, was from him.
"so it was you, then?" you asked, just to be sure. you spent so long wondering who it was from, the idea of finally knowing was extremely exciting.
he gave you a confused look, then started to blush. "yeah. it was me” he nodded.
you remembered seeing him that day after you read the note, you thought he was cute. you'd noticed him a lot after that, as he walked past the art room or any other class you were in, seeing him in the halls. you never thought he'd noticed you, though. you always thought he was too cool to pay attention to someone like you.
bouncing on the balls of your feet, you reached up and kissed his cheek. "goodnight, jj" you smiled before turning to your door.
"goodnight" he spoke quietly, giving a small wave and smile as you shut the door.
you watched from the window as he held his hand to where you kissed him and stared at the stars. if only you could see the shit eating grin on his face.
once you washed up for the night and got back to your room, you couldn't help the smile that came when you looked at the dried up rose on your dresser, note still attached.
maybe it was against some silly island rule of kooks vs. pogues that you had a crush on the boy, but you didn't care. there was something special about him. something that made you feel like you were on top of the world, in the safest place ever.
like you were exactly where you were supposed to be.
like you were home.
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don’t be shy, reblog!
feel free to send a request
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robinsgrl · 7 days ago
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kildare nights. eight, blocked. previous ! next
gold at hand and no more treasures to hunt, the freshly graduated treasure hunters are left to deal with the simple life. as simple as a certain level of fame and millions of dollars in the obx can get you, at least.
an. moving too fast? cry to your momma about it 🙄 (me, i think im moving really fast) but seriously i love all of you so much i love it when yall are gasping and grasping with me 🤭🤭 sorry no jj interaction……. yall that’s my baby let him wrap his head around this
taglist. @sippinpeachtea @leather-n-velvet @beebeerockknot @star611 @emer-sonnn @miidollaasignnn @vrtualstar @rafecameronsloverrrrr @jeonjungkaka @amara-mars @chaoticroaddreamerpasta @yawnzshit @poppet05 @proxy-princess @zomb-1-egutzz @starsval @ethanthequeefqueen @moonssyrup @sarahmaybank @bilssturns @cakuqe @marleymarleymarleymarley @louxmcl @sheisntyou @always-reading @eitaababe @aesthetic-lyssa @carlandoxlestappen @acidfeens @aweasleyobrien @murdockcastleslut @k-k0129 @grapejuice32 @flvredcas @love-hs28 @lola11111111 @youtubewag @212-apricity @kittycatqueenie @anothertimegirl (send an ask or comment to be added to the taglist! those in red can’t be tagged. If I missed you, sorry, please remind me again!)
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pathologicalreid · 7 days ago
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merry christmas, please don't call | s.r.
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in which Spencer pens an email to you, since you've already blocked his phone number
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: nondescript break up, described as spencer's fault, reader is mentioned to have worn lipstick, yearning, word count: 907 a/n: and the worst part is!!! that we both know!!!!! we are doing kind of an unofficial margotmas/reidmas! really i've just been building up christmas ideas for a while lol
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To: [email protected] From: [email protected] Subject: Merry Christmas
Hey,
Spencer shook his head, that was too casual.
Good afternoon,
Much too formal.
Hello,
Too rigid.
Darling,
I passed by the house that you told me you adored. It used to be your dream house; you’d always show me the Zillow listing whenever you were browsing. The owners didn’t put up their Christmas lights this year, and it looks like they’re getting ready to sell. I haven’t been online to check the listing, that was always your thing rather than mine.
Do you remember the house? It had four bedrooms for our kids to sleep in and a library with stained-glass windows. You always told me the stained-glass windows were your favorite feature of my apartment. I keep it covered now; the colored glass just serves as a painful reminder of you.  
Emily called me last week. I suppose no one told her that we weren’t together anymore because she asked what our holiday plans were. I haven’t made any since you left. I’m finding myself hopeful that we get called on a case over Christmas so that I don’t need to be surrounded by the world celebrating while I continue to wallow in the memories of you and me.
That’s all I have now: memories. We made so many of them over the course of three years that I don’t know what to do with them. I’ve always had the sneaking suspicion that having an eidetic memory is a curse just as much as it is a blessing, but with you gone, I know it’s more of a curse. I see you when I close my eyes as if your features have been permanently tattooed on the back of my eyelids, but when my eyes are open, everything is exponentially worse.
You left in such a hurry, so you were bound to leave a few things behind. When I went to make a cup of coffee and found one of your mugs in my cabinet, JJ and Penelope had to practically scrape me off the kitchen floor. There was still a lipstick smudge on it, a piece of our history the dishwasher couldn’t quite wash off. Your necklace was on the bedside table, though maybe that was left behind on purpose. I wish we could go back to the day I gave it to you, you could wear the same green dress, and maybe work wouldn’t get in the way. If I could, I’d call you to ask why you left it behind, but you’ve blocked my number.
There was no need for you to leave me things to remember you by, how could I ever forget you?
I’ve been finding myself grateful that you got so close with Garcia during our relationship, she doesn’t give me any explicit details on your life when she updates me. I never ask, but she knows I want to hear.
It’s a rather odd phenomenon to have once had someone who you shared everything with, only to one day find they want nothing to do with you. I always find myself reaching for my phone to send to a message, or leaning over to show you a line in my book, but you’re not there anymore. I don’t hold any malice in my heart for you, even after you called it all off. My biggest regret is that I couldn’t be the boyfriend that you needed, and I’m proud of you for realizing you wanted someone better. I’m sorry I couldn’t be better.
Maybe I still have some growing up to do. There might be some sort of emotional stunting as a result of my less-than-orthodox upbringing and education, which makes sense when you consider two of my most common nicknames, “boy genius” and “kid.” One day I could find myself in the same place you were, ready for more, but maybe then I’ll be with someone who is ready for the same things as I am. She’ll never be you though. You’ll always hold that special place in my heart.
Speaking of my upbringing, my mom keeps asking about you. Each time we talk on the phone, she asks if she can talk to you, but I’ve been telling her that you’re still working or are otherwise preoccupied. I know I shouldn’t lie to her, but if I tell her, she’ll inevitably forget, and I’ll be forced to recount the story of how I lost the best thing to ever happen to me forever. That would be my eternal damnation. There’s Sisyphus and Tantalus and Spencer Reid, slowly becoming nothing but a myth. I wonder if I’m a story that you tell your friends at O’Keefe’s.
I go there sometimes, just to see if I can catch your gaze, but you’re never there.
I know this is your favorite holiday, and I don’t intend to ruin your holidays with my message. I suppose I just needed to see if you still dream about that house. To see if you still dream of me the way I dream of you.
Merry Christmas,
Spencer
He clicked send nervously, ready to snap his work-issued laptop shut when it chirped with a notification. Surely you hadn’t responded that quickly. Spencer opened his inbox once more, checking the latest email.
To: [email protected] From: [email protected] Subject: Delivery Status Notification (Failure)
Message blocked.
Your message to [email protected] has been blocked. See technical details below for more information.
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luveline · 1 year ago
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anything bombshell reader I would adore!!!
Oh my god, Spencer thinks desperately, could she give me a break? 
You waltz into the conference room wearing a smile (your smile, as heartbreakingly perfect as always) and a motorcycle jacket buttoned to the chin. There's something about it. Spencer doesn't know what it is, just that it makes you even more attractive than usual. He toys with the word sexy, and sure, you are when you want to be, but he thinks about it long and hard. You're a fucking bombshell, and you're going to kill him one day. 
“What's with the outfit?” Morgan asks immediately. 
“You can't wear that to the precinct,” Hotch says, though he sounds curious rather than annoyed. 
“You called us in unexpectedly,” you defend, holding up two perfect hands. Calluses from shooting practice line the palm of your dominant hand and you've a cut down the side of the other, and they're still perfect. Everything about you compliments everything else. “I was out.” 
“What, on your motorcycle?” JJ asks. 
“Your motorcycle?” Emily asks. 
“I didn't know you had a motorcycle,” Garcia says.
“You're ganging up on me. Spencer, honey, would you save me?” you ask, though the tone you use doesn't express much urgency as you unzip your thick jacket and toss it aside, its logos and sponsorships crumpling over the back of your chair. “You're the only one who looks pleased to see me.” 
“I am pleased to see you,” he says honestly. 
You don't make it to cases every time; you're on a different type of leasing, you always say. He doesn't have the subtlety to pretend he isn't happy you're here. You flirt with him, sure, and he enjoys it even while being out of his depths, but he likes you. You're fun and smart and good to be around. You listen. 
“They couldn't keep me away from you if they tried,” you say, head dipped gently to one side, smile far from teasing.. 
“Since when do you ride a motorcycle?” Emily asks. 
“If we could get back to the case at hand,” Hotch says, and for a moment everyone looks rightly chastised, until he adds, “we can discuss Y/N's choices afterwards.” 
What's worse than your jacket is the quickness of your brain, the connections you make, your endless suggestions. You're so good at your job it makes Spencer feel funny. Rossi, who'd been mostly silent during the exchange, sends Spencer a pitying look. 
When the case has been introduced and everyone sent to make preparations for another trip, you and Spencer remain in the conference room. You, because your go bag is already here and you don't have much to do, and Spencer, because you're here.
“Do you really have a motorcycle?” 
You tap your nose. “Need to know, babe.” 
“I sort of do need to know. If you have a motorcycle, I should probably be spending more time worrying about you.”
“Well, it's not mine.” 
He feels a crushing wave of rejection descend on him. “Right,” he says. He knew this would happen. He knew you were just being nice—
“I'm borrowing it from a friend. Mostly to see if I still knew how.” You put your chin in your hand, smiling knowingly. “Who's did you think it was, Dr. Reid?” 
“Don't do that,” he says. 
“Or what?” You ease up anyhow. “If you don't like being flirted with, Spence, I won't do it.” 
“I didn't say that, just don't– don't look at me like that.” 
You sigh morosely, but your dramatics are unconvincing, and a smile plays on your painted lips. “Alright, I won't. But it's how you were looking at me, you realise? How's that fair?” 
Spencer is about to say you know how, but do you really? Why is it fair for him to ogle you (albeit without meaning to) when you walk in, but when you make your soft googly eyes at him, he tells you to stop? Maybe because his are real, and yours are… questionable in authenticity. 
You're smart enough to see that debate before it forms. “I have less choice over it all than you think, you know?” you ask, softer than before. 
“I know,” he says. He doesn't, obviously, because the idea that you flirt with him accidentally is hard to accept, because who is Spencer to you? Your nerdy, socially clueless coworker who very clearly has a crush on you. Why would you like that? So he doesn't know about that, but he knows about having little choice in the manner; he sees you and he trips over himself trying to get you to see him. 
“I say it every time, but I've missed you, handsome. How have you been?” you ask. 
Spencer forgets the depth of his crush in the face of a friend. “I'm good, I've been reading all this Russian existentialist literature–” 
“Yeah? Anything good?” 
Spencer beams. “Actually, yeah. There's this one writer, you've probably read him already, Dostoevsky…”
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avis-writeshq · 9 months ago
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hello 😘 aaron hotchner drabble request!
anything with jealousy and possessiveness but in a natural normal way not a joe goldberg way haha
and also - aaron sees you wearing his hoodie/shirt drabble!
thank you and your work is amazing!
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pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!fem!reader genre: established relationship, aaron is a little (a lot) upset warnings: misogynistic moron >:( reader wears a skirt, if you get the reference ily a/n: i wrote it and the more i wrote the more i realised that it... really isn't the same at all :( if you want me to redo it, please send me an ask !! thank you lovely <3 wc: 631
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“You would think that he would know by now,” Emily hums, her tone disapproving and mostly disappointed as she watches from a distance as Captain Pembroke attempts to chat you up. 
“He’s a captain?” Spencer asks in genuine amazement. 
“For NYPD’s major crime unit,” JJ confirms, her arms crossed over her chest. “He tried to hit on Emily a couple days ago, and on Amy from the fourth floor. I wouldn’t be surprised it he has some sort of sealed file on him.”
Emily scoffs a little, rolling her eyes. “Sounds like a charmer.”
“The bigger question is, does Hotch know?” Derek pipes up as he glances in your direction.
“Well…” JJ lets out a nervous laugh. “I kind of hope he doesn’t.”
You offer a curt smile in Pembroke’s direction, doing everything in your power to subtly signal that you really should be leaving. Fiddling with the loose threads of your shirt, averting eye contact, taking tiny steps away in hopes that he’ll somehow get the message. It isn’t surprising that he doesn’t. 
“I beat my PR yesterday, you know,” he brags, flexing his muscles. You think you’re about to throw up as he continues, “129. Impressive, right, hun?”
“The average amount of pounds an untrained man can lift is 135,” you respond dismissively in an attempt to lean into Spencer’s way of getting people to leave him alone, but Pembroke doesn’t seem to hear you. 
“You know, sweets, I don’t think you should even be in this job. You’re far too foxy,” he says with a wink, “You’d be better in a different job. I mean, women aren’t fit for these types of roles. They get too emotional.”
You refrain from punching his face as it will only prove his point. “Listen, Ken–”
“It’s Keith–”
“Kyle,” you amend with a sickly smile. “I do need to get these files to Agent Rossi, so if you’ll excuse me…”
“Aw, come on, it was only a joke,” Pembroke says with a laugh. “It’ll be fine–”
“There you are.”
You don’t think you’ve ever felt more relieved in your life. Aaron’s hand rests flat against your back, dangerously close to the waistband of your skirt and he stands behind you. Aaron is a good couple of inches taller than Pembroke, especially when he stands at his full height, his dark eyed narrowed and his jaw clenched. 
“Did you need something from my agent, Captain?” He asks lowly. 
“Just pleasant conversation,” Pembroke responds dismissively.
Aaron raises an eyebrow, his gaze shifting from your uncomfortable frown to the captain’s smug face. “We have three missing women and you are disturbing an investigation by disrupting my agents. I suggest you get your act together before I report you to your superiors for harassment.”
He doesn’t bother waiting for a response, guiding you by the small of your back towards his makeshift office in the New York Police Office. He doesn’t say a word until the door is firmly closed and the blinds are drawn. 
“Are you alright?” He asks softly, taking a step towards you and curling his fingers by your cheekbone. “I heard what he said. Do you want me to report it?”
“I’ve dealt with worse.” You don’t mean to sound so honest when you say it and his frown deepens.
“That’s not okay, honey.” Aaron presses a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll report it. You know how it is with cases like these; someone just has to put the first step forward.”
You smile at that, poking at his cheeks. “I thought you were going to hit him.”
“I thought you would’ve beat me to it,” he admits through a quiet laugh, giving you a proper kiss. “We shouldn’t make this into a habit.”
“Tell that to Kimberly.”
“That isn’t even close.”
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reblogs are always appreciated!
events page
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catssluvr · 4 months ago
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𝓭𝓻𝓾𝓷𝓴 𝓲𝓷 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮, emily prentiss
s16/17!emily prentiss x fem!reader
you drunk call emily
warnings: r being suggestive, r is wipped lol, so much fluff 🤍
·˚ ༘₊·꒰➳: ̗̀➛
Emily rubbed her temples with the pads of her fingers, the computer screen in front of her making her eyes sting from the brightness. Working for the FBI was never easy but being unit chef felt like an impossible task sometimes. She hadn´t even noticed everyone leave the office at some point and the way it was pitch black outside, the clock hitting midnight.
The sudden buzz of her phone made her let out a frustrated sigh, but soon her expression turned smiley as she saw the familiar picture of you snuggling sergio against your cheek pop up on her screen. You had went out for a girls night with Pen and JJ at the bar so she could imagine that by now you were probably tipsy - if not slightly more than that. She had been tempted to join you two, especially with you looking at her with puppy dog eyes while begging her to go but she didn´t have other choice but to decline it.
Picking up the device, she quickly answered the call with a sweet, "Hey angel, what's up?" Not missing the way your drunk giggles sounded immediately after.
"Ems, hi!" You said, making an effort to sound composed but failing miserably. "I miss you sooo much." You stated between giggles and Emily could hear Garcia´s voice teasing you for being so lovey.
"Yeah, love?" She mumbled softly, still trying to figure out the reason behind this random call but having a light guess.
"Mhm, so much 'Mily." Your words were slured and she had to hold the urge to chuckle at the state you were currently in.
"Well, i miss you too. Are you okay? Do you need anything?" She asked, pressing the phone against her ear and supporting it her shoulder as she closed her laptop.
"Uhmm.." Your voice showed confusion before JJ whispered something to you, what Emily assumed was her reminding you of the reason behind the call. "Oh- right! Could you please pick me up? I know you're working- i'm so sorry-"
"I'll be on my way, angel. Stay right where you are, kay?" She interrupted your rambling before you could continue, keeping her voice as soft as possible. She did have work to do, but truth is you were way more important than all that. And she already felt bad enough for turning you down earlier.
"Kay Ems.. love you." You whispered with a hiccup.
"I love you, now stay close to Garcia and JJ and i'll be there in no time." She said before hanging up and quickly gathering her things before leaving the office.
·˚ ༘₊·꒰➳: ̗̀➛
You huffed grumply, sleepines hitting you as you burried your face in Penelope's shoulder. Your mind was hazy, only thing in your mind being Emily as you waited for her outside the bar. Even if the alcohol in your blood was making everything feel more dramatic than it was, you did miss her.
"Don't worry peach, she'll be here soon." Pen comforted you, runing a hand through your hair with her colorful nails.
You sniffled softly, the booze and sleepiness making you overly emotional. But before the tears started breaming in your eyes, you catched the glimpse of the gray haired woman walking out of her car and walk towards you.
"Ems! You're heree-" You ran to hug her, fingers grabing her long coat and nose nuzzling her neck and collarbone. "You smell so so good, always do." You mumbled innocently, ignoring the two girls standing right there and focusing on the way Emily's chest moved as she chuckled at your clinginess.
"Hello to you too, angel. Ready to go?" Her hands gently tucked the strands of hair that fell on your face behind your ears, giving you a pleased smile when you nod. "You two need a ride home?" She asked the two girls standing in front of you.
"Nah we´re okay, just felt like a good idea to call you to come and get your lighthead girlfriend." JJ chuckled and Penelope soon followed, quickly sending you goodbyes before disappearing into the bar again.
"Weirdos." Emily snorted with a smile before her atention returned to you. You were currently pressed up against her, your arms had sneaked their way inside her coat in attempt to warm yourself up from the chilly weater of the night.
"C'mon sweetheart, let's get you inside the car so you can warm up." She pulled you with her as you both started walking towards the car, struggling slightly as you were holding onto her arm like a koala.
"You're so pretty Ems, did ya know?" You pressed pecks to her jaw as you spoke, cheeks pink from the booze. Your gestures were no suprise to her, you tended to get overly affectionate when drunk. "I love eyes and your cute lips..." You went on as you pressed kisses against her cheek and the corner of her lips.
"Yeah? What else?" She urged you to continue, her voice humurous as you approached the car.
"Oh- your hair, love your hair. Looks so good like this." Your fingers clumsly played with her silver hair, lovingly gazing at her. Emily knew exactly what you meant by this, she had been reluctant to embrace the natural color of it but now she wouldn't even think of painting it again, not after the way you looked at her.
She guided you inside the car, gently kissing your forehead as she buckled your seatbelt. "Ugh and your nose- so pretty- gorgeous. Dunno how you could ever not like it. It feels so good when you´re-"
"Okay love i think i got it, thank you." She interrupted before you could get any further with details, but you didn't fail to notice the way her cheeks reddened at your last unfinished phrase, giggling at her sudden shyness.
As soon as she got in the driver's seat, your hand was grabbing hers, playing with her fingers as an effort to stay awake. Your eyes droppy and your head slightly lulling to the side - which she couldn't help but chuckle at before her eyes focused on the road ahead.
·˚ ༘₊·꒰➳: ̗̀➛
Unlocking the door to her appartment, Emily turned on the lights before pulling you to her room. You jumped on her bed before she could try to stop you, snuggling up to the pillow she slept in. "Hey none of that, we have to change your clothes and take off that makeup." She grabbed your calves as gently as possible, pulling you to edge of the bed, giving you a look that you knew meant she wasn't gonna let you sleep before you did what she said.
"Ugh okay, mom." You sassed before dragging yourself to her closet, rummaging through her pyjamas. "But just so you know, i'm using your clothes." You mumbled out with a joking tone.
"I'll get you some water." She said as she exited the room.
When she got back she was not suprise to see you sitting on the bathroom counter, half asleep with an unused makeup wipe in you hand.
"Here, let me do that angel." She sighed and took the wipe from you, softly wiping your makeup with one hand as the other held your head so she could sucessfully clean your face.
"All done." She mumbled after a momet, tapping your thigh as she helped you out of the counter. Her hands softly rubbed your arms before leading you into the bedroom and inside the comfy covers of her bed.
After making you take a few sips of water, she joined you in the bed, puling you against her chest. Her arms wrapped around your hips, gently running her fingers up and down the fabric of her your pyjamas.
"Thank you for taking care of me, i love you Em." You whispered sleepily before falling into slumber, head nestled against her chest and finger lightly grabbing at her shirt.
"I love you, sweet girl." She smiled against your hair, her own eyes starting to feel heavy.
·˚ ༘₊·꒰➳: ̗̀➛
a/n: i wrote this when i was sick and i lowkey hate it 😭
anyway emily deserves some love and hapiness in these last few seasons so i had to 🫶🏻
love you,
cat 🤍
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reidrum · 6 months ago
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if you keep asking | s.r
pairing: spencer reid x fem!bau!reader
a/n: this was requested with “if you keep asking me i’m not gonna be okay” or smth along the lines 😭 i am a glutton for hurt/comfort fics so if yall have any more requests send em in :)
summary: in which you’re trying to keep it together when you hear some detectives talking ill of you, and spencer isn’t gonna have it
cw: hurt/comfort, self deprecation, insecure!reader, bitch ass detectives, protective bau my heart, use of she/her pronouns
wc: 2.2k
_______
the bau team was filing into the bullpen after landing from their last case in seattle, everyone making a beeline for their desks to get a head start on their reports so they could go home faster. everyone, except you. it felt like you were on autopilot, remembering your last known movements and just repeating them for as long as you could.
the case in seattle was rough to say the least. the unsub’s mo seemed to change every minute, making any progress the team made obsolete. the only thing that seemed to be somewhat consistent was where the unsub was taking his victims, which meant the geographical profile was the most important part to solving the case, a task you and reid were assigned to.
it started off fine, you both had found the comfort zone of where the unsub would strike next to figure out how to catch him in the act. except the next time he struck it was completely out of the predicted range, and this time a kid had died. no one could have anticipated that happening. it didn’t make the loss hurt any less.
the team knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault, humans are unpredictable, and that includes serial killers. spencer made sure to tell you specifically that it wasn’t your fault, he knew how you’d get if someone didn’t tell you.
his efforts went to utter waste when you walked by a room at the precinct with detectives whispering about how “you fucked up the whole profile, that’s why that kid died” and “it’s clear you make the team stupider, how did you even get into the fbi in the first place?”
it wasn’t the first time your abilities were in question. you were the newest member of the team, having only transferred six months ago from cold cases. you may be new to the field, but there was a reason hotch chose you personally for the bau.
you tried hard to prove yourself, despite pretty much everyone saying your skillset was enough proof. you’d stay late to finish reports, do extra research on cases to help garcia narrow her searches faster, and you spent countless hours at the training range.
you were a worthy agent, anyone who knew you or read your resume knew that. but right now, you felt like the smallest person on earth, an imposter. what the hell were you even doing here if you couldn’t save him.
you shouldn’t be allowed to feel relief that the team caught the unsub, not when there’s blood on your hands.
the bad thoughts swirling in your head causes you to stall your motions when you’re putting files away, gaining the attention of morgan, “you alright, sweet cheeks?”
“i’m good morgan, don’t worry.” you lie effortlessly. if he can tell you’re lying, he doesn’t mention it and turns back to his work.
taking a deep breath, you stand up to go to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee, when you run into jj finishing up making her own, “i was just thinking about you, i got this new creamer i think you’d rea-, hey, are you okay?” jj starts but ends concerned.
you try to focus on metronomic tick of the clock so you dont escalate, “i’m fine j,” you laugh unconvincingly, “what creamer did you get?”
she ignores your question, “because i know that was a tough case, and if you need to talk about it with someo-“
“jj, drop it, please.”
the blonde’s face drops a little at your sternness, but respects your space and offers you to try the creamer before returning to her desk. you feel bad for snapping at her, but the growing guilt within you is giving you apathy, and you can’t bring yourself to care at this moment.
you linger in the kitchen so as to avoid any more concerned faces, and you’re left to your own devices that are slowly overtaking you.
unbeknownst to you, spencer had been watching you since you all landed back in quantico. he kept his distance, mostly because he knew how overwhelmed you get at confrontation, especially about your emotions. he was the same way, a man of logic getting befuddled by emotion was enough cognitive dissonance to last a long time.
he knew it was different with you. you had a way of internalizing everything in your surrounding, a downfall to your endless empathy for others even if they never deserve it. he could explain the logic behind your beliefs, and hopefully use facts to help you relax, but that was the other thing he knew about you; you were stubborn. asking for help is something you hated doing, and if it wasn’t on your accord to be asking, it was even more detrimental to your mood.
so when he watched you duck out from the kitchen and push past the glass doors of the bullpen, he knew you were reaching the head of your doom spiral quickly.
spencer got up from his desk, “i’m gonna go check on her.”
jj nodded, “just be mindful spence, something feels different.”
they’d all been on cases that hit a little too close to home, how could they not when all they do is rid the world of the evilest of evildoers. but after a good cry, a rant to a teammate, or even an emergency therapy session, even the worst of the scum could be washed away.
something about the way you’ve been acting since they landed seemed like those fixits aren’t going to work this time.
he let out a sigh in response and walked out of the bullpen, realizing he didn’t actually know which direction you went in. assuming you’d want to be alone, he thinks the bathroom might’ve been a viable option for you and heads towards it.
the nice thing about the seventh floor is that it’s only for the bau, the bullpen was where the team spent most of their time but outside the doors there were so many empty rooms being used for storage.
so as spencer walked towards the bathroom in the hopes of finding you, his ears pick up on a tiny sniffle a little ways before it. he stops in his tracks, hoping he was just hearing things. but another pained sob rang through the door on his left, and he knew he’d found you.
he rapps the door a few times, softly calling your name, “hey, it’s spencer…can i come in please?”
you were on the other side sitting at one of the abandoned desks with your head down, but shot up at hearing spencer’s voice, “i- i’m fine i just needed a minute. i’ll be back in like two minutes, i promise.” you angrily wipe at the tears pooling on your face, grateful that you took your makeup off in the plane.
“honey, that’s not what i asked,” he starts, “is it okay if i come in?
your heart clenches at the term of endearment as you stare at the door knowing he was waiting for your okay to come in, and you start to internally weigh your options. you could let him in, and let him in to do whatever comforting you know logically would help. or you could lie, and feign ignorance to the end.
don’t they say ignorance is bliss?
you make sure to wipe the last of your tears and your runny nose before practicing a few fake smiles so it didn’t look like your face was frozen in sadness for the last thirty minutes. turning the knob you swing the door open, borderline creepy smile on your face as you greet the man, “hi dr. reid! was there something you were looking for?”
he furrows his brows at your complete (fake) shift in mood, but he comes in and shuts the door behind him, and moves to stand a few feet from you, “what’s going on?”
“nothing spence, i’m fine.” you insist.
spencer thinks if you could be more see through you’d be a windexed window. you’re avoiding eye contact with him, picking at the skin of your thumb, he can see your nose is red most likely from all the tissue blowing, and your eyes are still puffy and lined with some unshed tears still. you are so clearly breaking at the seams, like an old childhood teddy bear with stuffing falling out the sides yet hoping you can offer some semblance of stability despite your state.
“you don’t look fine, honey. why won’t you tell me what’s bothering you?”
his words almost make you falter, and you think the walls you built so high are starting to chip down. “it’s not a big deal spence, i-,” a hiccuped breath gives you away, “i can deal with it on my own.”
spencer instinctively shortens the gap between you two, “you shouldn’t have to. i just wanna help you.”
“but i’m oka-“
“no you’re not.”
there is only one tiny thin thread left holding you together. “well,” you take a deep inhale and your voice gets impossibly small, “if you keep saying things like to me i’m not gonna be okay.”
“that’s why i’m here.” he says softly.
you look up at him with the biggest glassy doe eyed look he’s ever seen, and it’s like spencer can hear the snap of the thread in real time when he watches your face absolutely crumble. he doesn’t hesitate to pull you into his embrace, allowing him to hold your head down in the middle of his chest while his other hand smooths up and down your back in comfort.
“i know, shh, hey it’s okay, i got you.” he comforts.
your hands wrap around his waist beneath his suit jacket and you keep your face buried in his chest, inhaling the musky vanilla scent of his cologne mixed with the fresh laundry detergent smell letting it ground you back to him.
“i’m sorry.” you cry.
“don’t say that,” he hushes, “is it about the case?” you nod in his embrace, “we talked about it remember? there was nothing we could have done. we did everything right, sometimes it just doesn’t work out, you know that.” he moves his hand to tangle in your hair and rub your head.
“i- i know,” you say through labored breaths. you take a big breath before admitting the true reason for your anguish, “when we were about to leave, i walked by a room with some detectives talking about how i ruined the case and that…i’m the reason the kid died.”
“what?” he pulls back to look you in the eyes hoping to find any indication that you didn’t believe those poisoned words, “we both worked on that geographical profile together, the whole team agreed it was accurate and acted accordingly. what happened was not your fault. at all.” he emphasizes the last two words.
“yeah but…i don’t know maybe i could ha-“
“stop. you can’t do that to yourself. we did what we could with what we had, the burden of that child’s passing does not fall on you. we were only able to find the unsub’s hiding spot when you figured out he’d been going to the same gas station since the murders started.” he reinforced to you.
“they said that they didn’t know how i even got into the academy in the first place, and that i make the team stupider.” you quietly added.
spencer felt the rage consume his body, already planning the ways he was going to obliterate seattle pd. he cradled your head to look at him in the eyes, “listen to me. you are an important asset to this team. you make this team better at what they do, you make me better at what i do. you mean so much to me and the team okay? please don’t forget that.”
he swipes at a fallen tear on your cheek as you tell him between sniffles, “thanks spence…” you hope he understands the sentiment and love you’re trying to exude to him, even thought you’re unable to vocalize it.
“you gotta tell me if something like that happens,” he softly scolds you, “i’ll make sure they lose their fucking jobs.”
you’re about to speak when he cuts you off, “and don’t tell me that we should be the bigger people, because once the rest of the team hears about this, they’re all gonna be fighting over who’s gonna kick the shit out of them.”
you let out a tearful giggle, “you sound really funny when you curse.”
he scoffs, “what the hell, i do not!”
“you sound like a baby duckling that just learned how to say fuck.”
he starts to guide you out of the room and towards hotch’s office so you can recount what happened, “ouch, i’m hurt. i’d like to think the pistol and fbi badge i carry makes me intimidating.”
you giggle again, and spencer puts aside his rage to revel in the fact that you’re feeling better.
when hotch learned of what happened he immediately called seattle pd to file a motion to get those detectives fired, and the rest of the team were secretly praying for a case in seattle again so they could, as spencer predicted, kick the shit out of them.
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