#Gideon spoke to the fingers; what do they think about it all? Are they lying to you like Gideon is kind of lying to you?

[death-rebirth-senshi]

Though on that note of Gideon saying the Marika wants everyone to struggle eternally: Are the two-fingers actually in on that? I wonder.

We do a whole little song and dance of "oh, the Erdtree has denied you, now what, oh you have to do the first cardinal sin and burn the Erdtree and release destined death" but like, Vyke apparently did this dance already and so did Bernhal. So it's like...someone here is fibbing.

And to a degree I can buy that like. The Fingers have no fucking idea what to do here and were really hoping that this time, the tarnished would be accepted as Elden Lord and everything would be fixed. And also that by their nature, they can't really admit that a cardinal sin needs to happen and the Erdtree needs to be burned (and somehow, destined death gets thrown into the mix idk it's one of the sloppier things about this game to me that it's thrown in so weirdly, I can only surmise unleashing destined death - something Enia claims the fingers and greater will would never allow - is something everyone kind of knows needs to happen, but the fingers are locked in a kind of loop over the contradiction of it all and the best they can do is kind of close their eyes and not watch while you go do blasphemy)

That is to say are the fingers faking being against Marika or not you know.

[spectralscathath]

Tour Guide to the Unexplained- a Gravity Falls Fanfiction

Chapter 7- Night of the Living Gideon Part II: Evil Bud

Stan and Ford didn’t expect much when getting shipped up to Gravity Falls to stay with estranged family. Not massive world-changing secrets, not being stuck in the trunk of an RV, and definitely not the Mystery Shack and their lying uncle who runs it. But with Ford’s smarts and Stan’s punching, there’s no mystery they can’t solve.

Ao3 Link

Dark. It was real dark. But that was better than being lifted off the ground by invisible hands, so Stan could handle dark. Even if he woke up to it. As long as he didn’t wake up alone.

“Ford? You here?” he was sitting half on something soft and half on something hard, a weight on his back.

“Ugh… I’m here, Stanley.” That was Ford’s voice! Stan reached blindly in that direction and felt hair, his hand quickly grabbed by a hand that matched his own in every way except the extra finger. He could breathe a bit easier now. 

“Okay.” One down. The most important one. “Grunkle Dip?”

“Everything hurts.”

“You’re okay too!”

“Not what my statement means.” The soft thing Stan was half-crushed against moved under him. “For such a big RV you’d think there’d be more space in the trunk.”

“You weren’t kidding about Gideon being evil.” Stan squeezed Ford’s hand, unwilling to let go. He only heard snippets of that conversation over the sound of his heart pounding in his ears, but it sounded bad. “Just the fraud thing.”

“Yeah, I was way off.” 

“At least you can’t deny that the supernatural exists now?” Ford spoke up. “I mean- what with the telekinesis and such.”

“Kid, I’ve always known.”

There was a pause. Then Ford’s voice. “What?”

“Hold on, I’ll show you-” Dipper shifted again, there was a rustle of fabric, and a quick mutter of something Stanley couldn’t hope to understand in a million years, before blue flame sparked into life, gathered around Dipper’s right hand. Stan expected heat, but the temperature in the trunk got icy cold.

At least now Stan could see him, his hat askew and his sleeve pushed up to show some of the intricate inked lines on his right arm, blurry to Stan’s bad eyes. The blue fire made him look pale and ghostly. It made the trunk they were in look way too small, too cramped, but at least this time it wasn’t dark, like the Gremobile that ate him. This time he wasn’t on his own.

Stan could see Ford too, half-crushing him, but now they had the light to move. Stan moved enough to see Ford’s face. 

He’d never seen Ford make a face like that. 

“You knew?” Ford’s voice cracked, high and sharp, clambering off Stanley and squirming towards Dipper.

“Y-yes?” Dipper looked puzzled. “I’ve got ‘paranormal investigator, monster hunter, and ghost remover’ on my business card?”

“But that’s all fake! It’s fake! You’re a conman!” Ford pointed right in Dipper’s face. “You said everything in the shack is just some fake magic trick!”

“Well yeah, I stopped doing live exhibits after what happened with the gremoblin in ‘85-”

“You’ve been pretending the supernatural isn’t real this whole time! You’re a liar!” Ford started hitting Dipper’s chest with each word, six-fingered fists beating down. “Liar! Liar! Liar! Liar! Liar!”

Stan tried to think of something to say- anything- but he’d never seen Ford do this ever, and he had nothing. 

“Whoa, hey- ow-” Dipper pulled his hands back, leaving the blue fire where it was, floating in the space, and reached down. Stan tensed up, ready to pounce- to fight Dipper off? To take the hit for his twin?- and froze when all Dipper did was catch Ford’s fists in his, touching Ford’s hands like they were normal hands. 

No one else did that besides Stan, except Mom and Shermie. 

“I did lie. I’m sorry.” Dipper admitted, and Stan saw his brother go still at the apology.

“... Why?” 

“I, uh- I lied because the supernatural is dangerous. I mean, really dangerous. I didn’t want you to make my mistakes.” Dipper’s face twisted and he let go of Ford’s hands. “Or suffer for them. But guess that didn’t work, since we’re in here.”

“I-” Ford started, before going quiet. Thinking hard, Stan could see it.

“Why does Gideon hate you so much?” Stan had to ask, filling the silence before it could set in.

“That’s the worst thing- he doesn’t.” Dipper facepalmed. “He has a massive crush on- on me.”

Stan felt all cold inside, shame curdling in his gut. “But he’s a guy.”

“Guys aren’t supposed to like other guys,” Ford pointed out, and it felt like he’d shoved a live bug down Stan’s throat, that's how awful it felt. “Dad says there’s something wrong with them.”

“Okay, there is a lot wrong with Gideon, but not that specifically? We’re gonna put a pin in that and have a talk later.” Dipper tugged nervously at his jacket. “The actual problem is Gideon is evil. Literally. He’s a massive creep who’s been stalking me for thirty years, he’s not afraid to hurt anyone to get what he wants, and now he’s got powers. And you.”

“Us?” Ford reached for Stanley’s hand again. 

Stanley took it. “So we’re bargaining chips now? This is like something outta Grimdark Chronicles, when Lady Obsessa kidnaps Jon Tazer’s girlfriend to-”

“Force him to marry her and be a vessel for the ghost of her husband she murdered, yep.” Dipper finished. “Gideon’s not that different.”

“Uh- I haven’t read the Grimdark Chronicles, what happened to the girlfriend?” Ford asked nervously. 

“It was awful,” Stan grinned as he got to describe one of the best scenes in the arc. “Obsessa used her as a sacrifice to summon her dead husband, it was super gory, like blood everywhere, Tazer’s fighting against her werewolf servants holding him back and the spirit of her husband, they do this cool split-frame where he has both faces at the same time, and then she makes Tazer stab his girlfriend to complete the merge! And Tazer’s gone for ages before coming back as a villain in a later arc and- you okay, Sixer?”

Ford’s face was pale as he made a strangled noise. 

Stan tilted his head. “Too much?”

“Stanley! Don’t you get it?” Ford shook his shoulders. “We’re the girlfriend in this scenario! It’s a no-win situation! Also that comic sounds really upsetting, why do you like it?”

Stan squinted before he asked a question. “Grunkle Dipper, would Gideon kill us?”

“... Maybe? I, personally, like you kids a lot, so let’s- let’s avoid testing that? Sounds good? Sounds good.”

“You like us?” Stan blinked at him.

“Yes?” Dipper blinked back like Stan was the one asking weird things. “So… I’m going to agree to what Gideon wants.”

“You can’t!” Ford scrambled up closer to Dipper’s head. “Did you not hear Stanley? The girlfriend died in the comic anyway!”

“I’m not going to put you two in danger.” Dipper looked away. “Not anymore than I already have.”

“But can't you punch him?” Ford panicked. “You said you were gonna!”

“Hey, punching! That’s a great idea!” Stan grinned and drew back his punching fist, aimed at the trunk door. “Let’s punch our way out! Left hook!”

There was a grisly wet snapping noise as his fist met solid metal. It sounded exactly how it did the last time it broke. 

“Stanley!” Ford’s voice cracked as he reached for his brother. 

Stan blinked at his hand. It looked fine- but it- “ow…?”

“That- that sounded bad. C’mere, let me take a look.” Dipper shifted with a grunt, picking Stanley up and moving him closer to the blue flames that sat in the air. He held a hand out to Stanley. “Can I?”

Stan gingerly placed his wrist in Dipper’s hand, unable to move his fingers even though he was trying. His hand wasn’t listening.

Dipper’s fingers were light as they prodded gently at Stan’s wrist, which still made him hiss in pain. “Yep. That’s broken. Needs a hospital.”

“No, not a hospital!” Stan snatched his wrist back. “We need to break out and go tell everyone Gideon’s a monster!”

“I’ve tried that, people don’t listen.” Dipper reached into his jacket and pulled out a roll of bandages. “Can you at least let me wrap it up?”

“Do you just have those on you?” Ford wrapped his arms around Stanley and wow, it had been a long time since they did a sibling hug so easily. Stanley leaned into it, it was nice.

“I’m accident-prone.” Dipper defended himself, carefully wrapping the bandage around Stan’s forearm and up his hand. Stan bit his lip so he didn’t make any show of weakness. Tough it out, Stanley, be a man.  

“I still would like to get this looked at by a professional,” Dipper sighed as he finished tying off the bandage. The pressure actually felt a bit better. “Shame there’s nothing to splint it with.”

“So… punching our way out won’t work.” Ford didn’t let go of Stanley. “I figured, even you can’t punch metal, knucklehead.”

“Just haven’t hit it hard enough, nerd.” Stan wrapped his right arm around his brother in return. “What do we do, then?”

“I’ve gotta agree to what Gideon wants, I guess.” Dipper sagged. “Some things you can't fight. You just… hold on ‘til it's over.”

“But there has to be a solution! There’s always one.” Ford scowled. Stan watched him think, practically able to see the brainpower working behind his face. “No problem exists that doesn’t have an answer. How does Gideon have powers? Let’s figure that out. Do you know?”

“Nope, telekinesis is new,” Dipper grumbled. “If he could do it the whole time there’d be no Shack.”

“If you didn't know he had powers why were we running so fast?”

“I’ll be honest: I thought Gideon was gonna call the cops, and the county jail is really cold overnight.” Dipper shuddered. 

“I respect that.” Stan didn’t want to go to jail either. Dad would be mad if he did.

“Stay on topic! If Gideon didn’t have telekinesis before, that means there must be an external source, there must be-” Ford gasped, eyes lighting up the way they did when he had an idea. Stan perked up to mirror it. Ford’s ideas were always smart. “I know what the source is! We just have to get it off him.”

Dipper raised a brow, cracking a wry smile. “Alright, kid. What’s the plan?”

#

At some point they’d started driving away from the fairground. Dipper had tried to keep the kids distracted by telling them a bit about some of the ways he’d messed with Gideon- the time he broke into Gideon’s house to put dye in all his hair products and fabric softener got a laugh out of the twins- but they were smart kids, and when the engine started they’d shared a look that was a little too knowing. 

Kids shouldn't have to know what danger felt like. 

As far as being ‘shoved in the trunk of a car for nefarious reasons’, Dipper was reasonably sure this one wasn't going to end in foiling dark rituals like last time, but hey, who knew. Gideon had gotten some upgrades.

“Can you teach me magic?” Ford asked curiously as the silence lulled. “I mean- how much do you know? Is that why you have a tattoo?”

“I mean, I know a few spells, just stuff I’ve picked up here and there. Basic magic’s mostly just saying the right words.” He rolled up the sleeves on his right arm, showing the boys some of the intricate tattoos that reached from his wrist to his chest. “And this is a mishmash of a few things; protective sigils, warding runes, mostly keeps ghosts out.”

“Wow. Cool.” Ford stared hungrily at Dipper’s arm in what Dipper hoped was a ‘hungry for knowledge’ way. He hoped the kids weren’t going to ask for a tattoo, he didn’t think he’d be allowed to say yes to that. 

“Are you gonna show us a bunch of cool monsters now?” Stan pulled off Dipper’s hat and fitted it on, clearly bored. It was a bit big on him. Ford snatched it and tried it on as well before Stan swiped it back, some sort of new hat-theft game established. Gosh, these kids were cute. 

“Sure. How about this: tomorrow we go monster hunting on the lake, make it a- a ‘family fun day’?” If they made it through without more injuries. 

“Family fun day?” Ford echoed curiously. 

“On the lake?” Stan’s eyes shone. “You mean- on a boat?”

“You know how to steer a boat?” Ford had the exact same expression. Was there some significance there?

“I know how to steal a boat,” Dipper clarified, “which is what we’re gonna need to do. Lifetime ban, remember?”

“Oh no.” Ford’s face fell. 

“Awesome!” Stan’s grin grew. 

“Don’t worry, Ford, I’ve got a plan.” Dipper took his hat back from the boys, tipping it up at a daring Mr Mystery angle. “Most of the time Nate and Lee are the cops on patrol outside town, and they’re two halves of a whole idiot, Grenda’s the only real problem and she’s usually busy.” 

Grenda was Mabel’s friend once. Something bad happened there and he didn’t know the details, but he did know she could lift an armchair one-handed. He’d already been dodging the cops before Gravity Falls, it changed nothing.

“I worry about how morally flexible we’re going to be at the end of summer.” Ford sighed.

“Can we go fishing?” Stan bounced where he sat, which was Dipper’s leg, so ow, but he was gonna have bruises anyway. These kids were bony, good ol’ Pines genes.

“You kids know how to fish?”

“Yeah, one time Granpa came over and took us outta Jersey to go fishing for the day! It was cool!” Stan nodded. 

“I got a fishhook stuck in my finger!” Ford shoved his hand in Dipper’s face. “See? There’s still a scar! And I didn’t even cry!”

“Neat? I have no idea how to fish.” Dipper shrugged. “You’ll both have to teach me.”

“We’ll show you all the tricks!” Stan threw his hands up in excitement. 

“You didn’t go fishing with Granpa as a kid?” Ford asked. Why did these kids ask so much about the past?

“Uh… no, that was always a thing he did with dad.” He and Mabel hadn’t been invited back then. It seemed boring anyway. Why fish on a lake for six hours when he could be exploring the area for monsters?

Never found any. Piedmont was pretty normal. 

He clapped his hands together to shake the memories off like cobwebs. “Okay. That’s the plan for tomorrow. Remember the plan for when the RV stops?”

The boys nodded furiously, Ford checking his jacket for his supplies while Stan patted down his vest. Dipper did the same, just checking. Gloves, flashlight, swiss army knife, all his other various odds and ends he’d been collecting for forty years, extra chewing pens. Ready for anything.

“I’m never leaving the magnet gun at home again for sure,” Ford mused. “I bet with a reverse of the polarity it would have been able to pop this open easily.”

“You’ll know for next time we all get stuck in a car trunk,” Dipper deadpanned. The RV was slowing, moving jerkily in a way Dipper could assume was a really bad parallel parking manoeuvre. 

“I hope this won’t become a regular occurrence, actually.”

“Keep hoping. Now,” he reached for his floating fire spell, cupping the blue flames in hand. Before he shook hands with Bill, they’d been the regular orange of standard fire. Some things didn’t leave a man unchanged. “When you put on a magic show, it’s all about making sure the other guy thinks they know what’s going on. Ready to put on a show?”

“Maybe?” Ford shrugged. “I mean, worth a shot?”

“Fight! Fight! Fight!” Stan grinned, one hand bandaged. Dipper definitely needed to get that to the doctors for an x-ray, he knew what bone snapping sounded like and that was it. Tough kid, much more than Dipper had been at his age.  

“Good answers.” Dipper clasped his hands together, the fire winking out and plunging them back into the dark. Just in time too, the RV ground to a stop. Dipper reached for where he knew the boys were as he heard the crunch of shoes on grass and gravel, wrapping an arm around them both. No one was hurting these kids on his watch.

The hatch door was ripped open, Gudeon grinning down with his son at his side. “Well, aren’t y’all as sweet as berries baked in a pie, all cosied up in there?”

“Touch these kids and I’ll choke you with your own toupee.” Dipper threatened, goading him. They had a plan. 

“This is my real hair!” Gideon lifted the boys out of Dipper’s grip with his powers and Dipper finally spotted what Ford had clocked instantly, the glowing pendant in his bolo tie. That had to be it. 

“Buddy-boy, keep a good hold on the twins. Us adults are gonna have a chat.” Gideon tossed the boys at Bud, who secured them in an arm each. They both kicked, Stanley in particular growling out a stream of surprisingly creative threats and insults. 

Gideon tutted and offered a hand to Dipper. “As for you-”

Dipper tensed.

“I’m so glad we can finally have a proper talk, my honeyglow.”

Ugh. At least Robbie just tried to kill him sometimes, Gideon’s entire thing was worse. Definitely worse. Dipper took to burning all those creepy stalker letters he still got a long time ago. Every one of them was addressed to Mabel, and he hated it. Hated what he’d read in her diary, about how uncomfortable Gideon made her feel. How he used crowds and big gestures to make it hard for her to say no. Before he’d even met Gideon, Dipper had hated him. 

Dipper smacked Gideon’s offered hand away and got out of the truck himself, clicking out his spine. His back was killing him, the curse of having two preteens sitting on him for hours. “I am not your ‘honeyglow’, creep.”

Gideon loomed, or at least his pompadour did. Dipper squared his shoulders and tipped his hat back. Bring it on. 

Gideon smiled and leaned back, chuckling to himself. “Now, now, I know you’re just trying to look all independent in front of the kids, I admire that, who knew you were so family-thinking? It’s an admirable trait, Ma-”

“Call me ‘Mabel’ and I’ll jump off that cliff,” Dipper warned, taking in the surroundings. Oh great, a creepy warehouse on top of a tall bluff, yay. That limited their options of escape. Alright. Just had to wait for the boys to pull off their part of things. Patience, Dipper.

“It is what it says on your paperwork, darlin’.”

“Have you been reading my mail? Every day you reach a new low, man.” Just had to keep Gideon talking. 

“That’s quite something from you after all those nasty occurrences twenty years back, or was it ten?” Gideon smiled innocently. 

“That wasn’t me.” Technically, as he was outside his body at the time. Also not in any legal way the cops could prove. Bill was careful when he wanted to be.

“Of course not, sugarplum! But I could make it all go away, all I want is the Mystery Shack and the Tent of Telepathy to merge together, the way we ought to be.”

“You’ll get that shack over my dead body.” Mabel needed him to finish the portal. 

“Oh, I think it’ll be much less bloody.” Gideon reached into his jacket and pulled out a contract. “You’re gonna sign it over right now or my Buddy-Boy’s dropping those delightful lil boys off the cliff. Ain’t that right, son?”

“Sounds good to me, dad!”

Dipper glanced, meeting Ford’s gaze, and Stan’s. There was a faint tilt of Ford’s head that could be passed off as nothing, a smile from Stan that could be nerves, and it snapped him back to when he and Mabel could come to a decision in the tiny gestures, a conversation without words. Dipper flexed a hand, wondering if they’d read his stalling just as well. 

“... let me find a pen.” 

#

Ford put up a fake struggle alongside Stan as they were flung into Bud’s grip. Bud Gleeful was clearly built along Crampelter lines, fourteen and grew early. Crampelter had also been held back in school, which was part of what got the Pines stuck dealing with him and his gang of goons. 

“So I guess Grunkle Dipper was right about you,” Stan hissed as Bud took a few steps back, too close to the bluff’s edge. “You’re totally evil.”

“Now, I think that’s uncalled for, evil is such an ugly word,” Bud defended. 

“You’re quite literally complicit in an abduction case, any court would convict you for assisting a megalomaniacal TV personality, even if he is your patriarchal guardian.” Ford adjusted his glasses with some difficulty, deliberately making his voice haughtier as he used big words. 

“Yeah, what he said.” Stan scoffed. “I take it back, you know.”

“Pardon?” Bud glanced down at Stanley, grip tightening slightly on both of them. Just like Crampelter, there was muscle there. 

“When I apologised,” Stan shrugged. “I take it back. I’m not sorry.”

“Well, I just assumed it was all fake on your part either way. The Pines family do seem to have an aptitude for deception.”

“Yeah. You know, our mom’s a psychic too, like Gideon,” Stan said it casually. 

“She’s very skilled at her extrasensory talents,” Ford chimed in, falling into verbal step. Sometimes, back in Jersey, Stan got enough of a read on one of their tormentors that they could turn the tables, using Ford’s smarts and Stan’s cunning to talk circles. It was a trick that they’d decided to practice after that run-in with the Sibling Brothers and the Jersey Devil, when they’d gotten in Ford’s head. If one set of twins could do it, why not them?

“So skilled. She’s able to know exactly what someone wants to hear, lies like a champ too,” Stan looked Bud in the eye, and Ford was very aware of the smokebomb in his own pocket, carefully modified. Just had to get Bud to take the bait. “She lies to us all the time too, that’s how I know your dad lies when he says he loves you.”

“Shut up. No, he doesn’t. You’re only projecting on me in an attempt to get under my skin.” Bud lifted his head proudly, and Ford thought that was it, but Stanley grinned. 

“Oh yeah? Then why’s he got you in on this whole scheme? You had to ditch your girlfriend for this, didn’t you?” 

“No, Carla and I had a lovely time, she understands that he needs me-”

“Bet she feels like crap, being second next to your dad.” Stan caught Ford’s eye. “Not very romantic of you.”

“Standard courtship rituals would tend to indicate that you should pay more attention to your significant other,” Ford rattled off, hoping he was picking up on Stanley’s cues.  

“Your dad’s honestly kind of a jerk, making you constantly ditch your girlfriend. Doesn’t he want you to be happy?”

“Of course he does!” Bud snarled. “He just- he needs the Shack-”

Gideon cut him off, yelling something about dropping Stan and Ford off a cliff if Dipper didn’t sign something. Ford tried not to show fear. Not just for himself, although the fall would be lethal at this height, but for Stanley, who’d be terrified the whole way down.

“Sounds good to me, dad!” Bud called back, teeth gritting. “You hear that? One more word and I’ll drop you.”

“Actually,” Ford raised a finger, putting on his ‘smarter than you’ voice. “If you do that right now then you have not only thrown away your progenitor’s leverage over our temporary guardian, but will also immediately become guilty of murder in the first degree by way of windowless defenestration.”

“Bet your dad would let you take the fall for it,” Stan laughed. “What do you think, Fordsy?”

“Absolutely! He seems like quite the Machiavellian type, willing to manipulate anyone in his vicinity.” Ford was pretty sure he used ‘Machiavellian’ correctly. 

“Man, Carla’s gonna miss you when you’re in jail for throwing us to our gory deaths,” Stan sighed, glancing at Dipper. Ford did the same, seeing him patting all his pockets like he was looking for a pen. “Or maybe she’ll think you’re a big jerk.”

“She’d understand why, she loves me. And- and my father wouldn’t do that to me, he’d smooth it over.”

“Can’t smooth over dead kids,” Stan made a face. “You can keep pretending that he’s a good dad, but it seems to me more like he cares about dating Grunkle Dipper more than you.” 

“No, shut up, this is just all for the Shack, it’s just business-”

“Business doesn’t call people ‘honeyglow’ and ‘sugarplum’. What’s your mom think about that, Buddy?”

“I told you to shut up!” Bud dropped Ford, hefting Stanley up, hands closing around Stan’s throat. 

Ford moved the moment his feet touched the ground, pulling out the modified smokebomb and leaping up, planting it right in the middle of Bud’s back, where the human skeleton couldn’t reach without serious joint flexibility. 

“Smokebomb!” He pulled the cord and ran to get out of blast range. 

Stanley’s hand reached into his vest at that moment and there was a flash of silver, an arc of red opening on the back of Bud’s hand. Bud yelped and dropped Stanley, clutching at the slash as Stan mirrored his brother in escaping. 

The smokebomb on Bud’s back, a condensed mixture of all of Stanley’s smokebombs, amplified by Ford’s tinkering, began to sputter and spark, exploding with a massive puff of glittery smoke and popping flashbangs.

“Buddy-boy!” Gideon turned, distracted, and Dipper’s hand shot out, snatching the bolo tie from his throat. Gideon yelped, attention split. “My magic!”

The amulet glowed in Dipper’s hand, and that same toxic light began to shine through his sleeve in intricate lines, travelling up his arms and over half his chest. Was that the tattoo he mentioned?

“Oh wow.” Dipper grinned a little too wide, his brown eyes turning teal. “That’s powerful.”

Gideon began to back up. “N-now, we can be reasonable about this, my marshmallow-”

“Hm. Nah.” Dipper raised a hand and lifted the RV with it, clenching his fist and crumpling it into a giant metal ball. 

“My dressing room!” Gideon panicked before he lifted off the ground, and began to reach for his throat, voice sounding choked. “I- I can’t- can’t br-”

Ford ran up to Grunkle Dipper and gripped the bottom of his jacket. “The plan worked! You got the amulet!”

“Huh?” Dipper looked down, genuinely surprised. Ford did not like how unsettling the teal glow in his eyes was. “Oh shoot- forgot you kids were here for a second.”

“Can I have a turn with the powers?” Stan made grabby hands. 

“No.” Dipper looked consideringly at them before he glanced at Gideon and Bud, a glow surrounding Bud as well. He flicked a hand and threw open the doors to the warehouse. “What do you kids think, lock ‘em in then we go and wreck the carnival?” 

“Wreck the carnival!” They chorused. Ford was all-in on that now, after today. Gideon destroyed his axolotl prize, now Ford was going to assist his Grunkle with revenge. Just this once. 

“No! Not my carnival! It’s a rental!”

“Well, darn, Gleeful, hope you paid extra for insurance,” Dipper smiled innocently and tossed them both into the warehouse, the door slamming shut and a padlock sliding into place. Another flick of his glowing hand ripped the unsigned contract into tiny shreds.

Ford itched to take notes, the fact that without any practice a fine level of dexterity and control could be achieved suggested will-based control rather than a need for training, which was fascinating. He had to know more. 

“Can I study the amulet?” Ford asked hopefully. “Please?”

“Definitely not. Sorry.” Dipper sighed, and threw it at the ground hard enough to shatter it. Ford was about to start yelling before he saw it make a skull-shaped puff of smoke as it broke. Yikes.

“Oh.” Well that was obviously a bad sign if there ever was one. “So the amulet was evil too. Fascinating.”

“Yeah,” Dipper blinked a few times, the teal glow fading from behind his eyes as they went back to brown. He stumbled slightly and clutched his head. “Whoo. That was a rush. Not a good thing. Definitely cursed.”

“You can tell that from one use?” Ford needed to pick his brains. He had so many questions. 

“Aw, but it was super powerful…” Stan pouted. “How are we gonna get outta here now?”

“We’ll hotwire the RV-”

“Grunkle Dipper, you destroyed the RV.”

“Oh. Yes I did.” Dipper scratched the back of his neck. “... I’ll call Dan.”

#

“Okay!” Dipper ripped open the truck door and shoved his stolen prizes inside, the carnival mostly empty from the late hour. He still had to dodge some people, but he got what the kids wanted. “Axolotl toy for you, baby goat for you!”

“Hi!” Stan hugged the goat as it tried to headbutt his face, headbutting the creature back. “Welcome home, lil’ guy, you’re gonna have so much stuff to headbutt back at the Shack!”

“You got me a replacement axolotl?” Ford accepted the toy. 

“Yeah, I think Gideon backed over the original. Sorry, kid.”

“No- I, it’s fine? I assumed it wasn’t in a state of repair.” Ford hugged the toy tight. “Thanks. Stanley, don’t let the goat eat any of my stuff.”

“Don’t worry, he can eat my stuff instead. Here, want some seatbelt?” Stan offered. 

“You really shouldn’t feed him just anything,” Dipper hopped in the front, hooking an arm over the back as he started to reverse out, careful not to hit anyone’s car. “Did you kids rig up all the self-serve cotton candy machines?”

“Yep!” Ford grinned. “All eighteen! It’ll rain sugar for weeks!”

“I stole the cashboxes!” Stan gestured at the goods beside him. “We’re rich!”

“And I have some of the ingredients! I could build one and we could have cotton candy all summer!”

“Yeah! Let’s start a candy empire!”

Dipper grinned wide as he drove out of the carpark at an illegal speed. “Great work, kids!”

“What did you do?” Stan asked excitedly.

“And why did you tell Dan he wanted plausible deniability when he dropped us off?”

“Gideon stored all his fireworks in one place, I just moved them into the actual Tent of Telepathy. There was no one there to stop me.” Dipper took his hat off and waved it out the car window in celebration, sheer dumb luck managing to time it for the multicoloured chaos that exploded behind them, bathing Gravity Falls in rainbows. “Try and run your fake scam now, sucker!”

“Pines! Pines! Pines!” The twins chanted, punching the air in tandem as Dipper sped through an intersection. Safe driving was important but not when ditching a crime scene, he’d learnt that one after many a breaking and entering charge. Who knew most abandoned haunted locations weren’t open access?

Once they were out of the main town and past the suburbs Dipper took his foot off the gas, slowing down enough to check on the boys. 

“You both okay? How’s the hand, Stan?”

“Not sore at all!”

“How far is the local hospital?”

“I’m taking you a town over, actually. Less risk of medical malpractice.” Between the vampire doctor he had to deal with, the one that thought ‘Frankenstein’ was life advice, and the general aura of ‘probably shouldn’t be allowed to handle sharp objects or heavy machinery’ that permeated the Gravity Falls townsfolk, he always went out of town for healthcare. 

“Really? But that’s gonna take ages!” Stan kicked the back of the passenger seat. It was gonna have permanent shoeprints by the end of summer. 

“Plenty of time to name your new friends, then.” 

“We can name them?” Ford piped up. 

“Sure, why not?” He had something else he wanted to take care of. Stan’s wrist, Ford’s whole… deal. “Hey, Ford?”

“Yeah?”

“I am sorry I lied to you about the supernatural.” It took a really long time to learn that sometimes an apology didn’t need any extra ribbons. 

“I…” Ford hesitated. “No more big secrets?”

“Not that I can think of.” He felt bad for that one, but he couldn’t just tell them about Mabel- about what he did- without the certainty he was getting her back. He glanced in the rearview mirror, the streetlights throwing orange light into the back of the car in predictable intervals. “I’ll let you know if one pops up.”

“... Okay.” Ford pressed part of his face into his axolotl toy. “I think… Frilliam? If I have to name it?”

“That’s a good name.” If Ford needed to take his time to decide how he felt, that was fine. Dipper had spent too long working on impulse decisions fuelled by anger or hurt or the need to be right- which always backfired- so it was good to see someone in the family take the time to sort out their thoughts for once.

“I think I’m calling this guy Gompers! He’s a goat, but he’s got chompers! Gompers!”

“That’s silly,” Ford chuckled. “Suits him. Can I pet him?”

“Duh! He’s our goat now, Sixer.” Stan set him down in the middle, the baby goat bleating as it wobbled unsteadily in the moving truck. Ford hesitated before gingerly petting him, Gompers accepting it without trying to bite his fingers off. 

Dipper smiled fondly before turning his attention back to the road. These kids. 

Bill was right about one thing. He did get too attached.

[iliumheightnights]

I See You | Din Djarin x Male Reader

Fandom: Star Wars, The Mandalorian Pairing: Din Djarin x male!reader Summary: Din returns to his husband after Grogu’s departure.

WARNING: This has spoilers for the finale of season 2 of the Mandalorian! You have been warned.

…

As the Slave One flew towards the landing pad, Din could only think about the Razor Crest and how it felt to land her right there knowing he was home. He wouldn’t be doing that anymore, he wouldn’t be able to. The Razor Crest was gone...and so was Grogu.

Din tried not to think of it. The Razor Crest being gone hurt him greatly, he had that ship for years. Pretty much since he went out to become a bounty hunter. It was part of his armor, part of him...and now that part was gone.

Of course, the Razor Crest wasn’t the only thing that was gone. Along with his ship, Grogu was gone as well. The little womp rat stole his heart and had taken it with him. He had tried his best to get Grogu back from Gideon, he hadn’t expected a Jedi to show up and take Grogu away from him so fast. He understood it was important for Grogu to be with someone who knew how to train him, but it still hurt. He barely had time to say goodbye.

“We’re here.” Boba Fett’s voice spoke out.

The sound of the ship's engine died down a bit. Din saw the house not too far from the landing pad. He hadn’t been there in a few weeks. His home. Din stood from the seat, Boba and Fennec following him to the ramp.

“Thank you.” Din said, turning to the pair. “For all your help. You didn’t need to help me, but you did. I won’t forget it.”

Boba nodded. “Only returned a favor.” Boba then reached out his hand. “You’ll always have an ally here.”

“Thank you.”

Fennec nodded at him. “I’m sorry things didn’t end the way you wanted them to. I know you weren’t expecting to lose him again so soon.”

Din was quiet for a moment before nodding. “Yeah.” He turned to the house in front of him before turning back to the pair. “Thank you again.” With that, he walked down the ramp and towards the house. As he walked he heard the engines of the Slave One powering up again. He heard the ship flying off and far away from them. He was alone again.

As he walked towards the front door of the house, he passed by a large garden that was growing lots of different types of fruits and vegetables. He heard the sound of animals in the distance. After walking for what seemed like forever he reached the front door. He pressed his hand to the scanning pad and heard the door unlock with a clink.

Din then took a breath before stepping inside.

The moment Din stepped inside of the house he instantly calmed. The inside was warm. Both in temperature and spirit. They had worked hard to make this place a home and it was showing now. Speaking of the other person who helped make this home with Din…

The man walked out of a room into the living room. He was busy looking at a datapad and hadn’t noticed Din just yet. Din smiled underneath his helmet. There was his husband. “M/n.” Immediately, the man looked up from the tablet and broke into a bright smile. “Din.” He rushed at the Mandalorian, crashing into him with a tight hug. Din was quick to hug his husband back. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Din said back to him.

M/n pulled back before looking down and around the floor. “I’m guessing by the absence of a little green baby...you found a Jedi?”

Din went quiet and nodded. “Yeah. I did.”

M/n gave him a small smile and gently rubbed his arm. “It’ll be okay. He’ll never forget you, and you’ll never forget him.” M/n let go of his husband's arm and began walking back. “Now...let me make you something to eat you must be starving.”

Din watched M/n walk towards the kitchen, as he did, he wondered if he should do the thing he's always thought about doing for M/n. M/n had never brought it up. He knew it was part of Din’s code and had always respected him for it. But Din knew his husband wanted to see him. He’d already done it twice very recently, his code was already broken...why not do it for M/n?

Without thinking any more on the subject Din moved his hands up to his helmet. He would be lying if he said it didn’t scare him, but this is M/n. His husband. He wouldn’t make things difficult for Din. Then just like that, his helmet was off.

“So what are you in the mood for? I can make Shaak, Kaadu, anything you wa-” M/n stopped as he took in the sight of his husband's face. A face he’s only caught glances of from reflections and from the side. “Din…”

“M/n. I had to take my helmet off to help Grogu.” Din thought of the first time he had to take his helmet off in the Imperial Refinery. Then the time he took it off when he said goodbye to Grogu...and all the people that saw his face. His code was already broken, but did the code really matter? “I don’t want to hide my face anymore. Not from you.”

M/n smiled and let out a huffed laugh before walking closer and holding Din’s head in his hands. He let his fingers trace every line of the man’s face, taking in every inch of him. Din brought his own gloved hands up to hold his husband’s face. It was clear, unlike looking through a visor he was able to see M/n clearly.

“I see you.” M/n said with a smile.

“I see you too.”

[reidgraygubler]

night changes (spencer reid/reader)

Title: night changes Requested: no Couple: spencer reid/fem!reader Category: smut Content Warning: SEXUAL CONTENT (virgin!reader, virgin!spencer, loss of virginity (Spencer and Reader), penetrive sex, unprotected sex, fingering, heavy petting, groping/grinding), making out, cuddling, awkward moments, ssn2 Spencer, mentions of drinking Word Count: 5,705 Summary: Spencer and Reader have a lot of firsts together. A/N: I was listening to one direction with my sisters and the song night changes came on and it made me think about spencer and reader being each other’s first. Thank you all so much for the love and support! I appreciate it and you! Check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

Something I hated about the BAU team was that no one’s secrets were safe. Once one person knew something about you, the rest of the team quickly found out. Secrets weren’t safe with anyone. Unfortunately for me, I was still learning that about the team.

I was the youngest and newest member. Recently joined a year after Spencer Reid, and was a year younger than him. Everyone on the team instantly thought us to be friends since we were so close in age, as well as being the newest to the team. Truth is, outside of work, we didn’t really hang out. Everyone thought we did, but we didn’t. 

I’d be a big fat liar though, if I said I didn’t have a crush on him. He’s cute, funny, and genuine. I don’t think he pitied me because I was the youngest, but part of me definitely did think that.

To be honest though, I think everyone on the team pitied me, except for Gideon. I really only got this job- which started off as an internship- because of Gideon, he was my uncle after all. 

One night, Penelope had invited the women of the team over for girls’ night. And that particular night I had too many drinks and let them know a secret. A secret I wished no one knew. It’s not something I should exactly be ashamed of, though. 

I’m a 24 year old virgin. But, like I said, I shouldn’t be ashamed of that. Just compared to the other women on the team… It was a little embarrassing. I was just happy that they all agreed to keep their mouths shut and not tease me about it in front of the others.

That didn’t last too long… Because Derek freaking Morgan wanted to play Truth or Dare the one night we all had to stay late to finish paperwork. He claimed it was “To keep us young”. A bullshit of a claim if you ask me.

“Truth or Dare? Are you serious? What are we, 12?” I scoffed before sipping my tea. Spencer looked over his glasses at me with a raised brow. Derek scowled as he looked at me.

“Truth or dare, Sunshine?” He asked as he kept his eyes on me as I shuffled through the paperwork on my desk. I rubbed my forehead with the pads of my finger tips before looking over at him with pure annoyance on my face.

“Truth,” I stated firmly. I just hope my annoyance was known. 

“When was the last time you got laid?”

“How mature.”

“When was it?” 

“Derek, please…” I looked at him as I pleaded. I really didn’t want to let this out. “Three nights ago,” I lied as I looked down at the papers on my desk. Derek catcalled while everyone else just stayed silent.

“Seriously?”

“No. Not three nights ago. Unless it was with some guy in Arizona,” I scoffed, pointing out that we were on a case, in Arizona, at that time. Derek looked at me with a raised brow. “It’s been a while,” I lied again. I pressed my hand to my face, hoping to leave it at that.

“That’s not what I was told,” JJ whispered just loud enough for everyone to hear. I pulled my hand away from my face and looked at her with wide eyes. 

“Jennifer,” I warned. She looked away from me the moment my eyes locked with hers. My heart dropped to my stomach, and an anxious feeling bubbled up my throat. 

“What does she mean, Sunshine?” Derek looked at me with a raised eyebrow. I let out a deep sigh before pressing both my hands to my face.

When I finally pulled my hands away from my face and looked around the room, I noted that everyone was looking my way. Everyone except for Aaron and Jason. Thank God they were in their own conversation and not listening to the childish conversations the rest of the team were having. 

“You’re a profiler. You figure it out,” I shrugged as I looked right at Derek. JJ and Emily shared a look as I stared at him.

“I might be a profiler. But you’ve given me no information…” Derek squinted at me as he spoke. I stared at him, staying quiet while he figured it out. I shifted slightly in my seat as I waited for his next “deduction”.

But I didn’t have to wait for his continuation. Because someone else had something to say, someone who had been quiet the entire time this was going on.

“You’re a virgin,” Spencer spoke out of nowhere. I looked over at him with wide eyes. I could feel heat grow ablaze across my face as I stared at him. If my silence wasn’t enough of an answer, I’m not sure what was. 

“Oh our little Sunshine is a late bloomer. Ain’t nothing wrong with that.” Derek smiled at me. I dropped my shoulders as I stared at him.

“I hate all of you,” I muttered as I put all my things in my bag. 

“C’mon we were just messing around.” Derek tried to stop me as I stood. I looked at him with a cocked eyebrow.

“Yeah, at the expense of my personal life,” I gestured at myself out of annoyance. “I’m gonna finish these at home. If anyone needs me I’ll be there. I’ll see you guys then.” I shrugged as I walked towards the elevators.

I couldn’t help the angered noises that escaped my mouth. Of course Spencer Reid would figure it out of all the people there. 

“Hey! Hey, wait up!” A voice shouted from behind me as I got closer to the doors. I froze just as my fingers hovered over the buttons of the elevator. “Wait!” 

“I’m waiting, Spencer,” I muttered as I withdrew my hand away from the buttons. He appeared beside me and pressed the buttons for me. 

“I’m sorry if I offended you. I didn’t mean to.” He looked over at me as he spoke. I looked back at him and shrugged.

“It’s not your fault. It’s Derek’s,” I muttered as I stepped on the elevator. Spencer stepped on beside me.

“You know, there’s nothing wrong with being a virgin.” Spencer looked over at me as he spoke. I glanced at him and shrugged. 

“Yeah, well it feels like a bad thing when everyone on the team has had sex except for me,” I sighed deeply. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Spencer asked, sounding almost offended with my statement. I looked at him and laughed.

“We can’t all be Lila Archer or Jennifer Jareau, Spencer,” I shyly smiled at him. I had known about Lila Archer and what had happened between them. And I even knew what happened between him and JJ. 

“I’m still a virgin,” he stated so calmly that I almost didn’t take him seriously.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not. I’ve never had sex with anyone.” 

“But…” my words trailed off, as did my train of thought. Spencer looked at me with a smile before he shrugged. 

“There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin,” he whispered before he stepped off the elevator.

{***}{***}{***}

It felt almost impossible to breathe. I don’t have time to explain why it felt impossible to breathe, it was just hard. Spencer Reid was coming over… Not just as a friend. No, he was coming over for a date. 

Like I said, I didn’t have time to explain. Three striking knocks on the door pulled me from my own thoughts. I looked over at it with wide eyes before I swallowed roughly. 

I straightened out a few things sitting on the coffee table, and myself, before I rushed to the door. When I pulled it open, Spencer was standing on the other side. He was looking down at me with a smile. 

He was wearing a dark blue, chunky sweater over a white button up and black tie. Black slacks hugged his hips, and black dress shoes covered his feet. Glasses sat on his nose, in front of his eyes, and his hair was combed over to the side. 

The difficult feeling of not being able to breathe returned quickly the longer I stared at him. To be fair, he stared back at me, a small smile growing on his lips. I hated how long we stayed quiet as we stared at each other. 

“H-Hi,” Spencer finally spoke. I swallowed roughly and nodded as I hid behind the door a bit more.

“Hi,” I whispered as I stared at him. 

“Are… Are you going to let me in?” he asked softly. I jumped once I realized he was still standing outside. I stepped away from the door and pulled it open more, silently inviting him in.

“S-Sorry. I just…” I watched as he walked into my living room. He turned and looked at me, watching as I shut and locked the door. 

“It’s okay. I was a little nervous walking up the driveway,” he nervously laughed. I smiled and nodded.

“Well! I have snacks! And… And water! I don’t have a movie queued up yet because I wasn’t sure what you wanted to watch…” I held my hands together as I walked into the living room a bit more.

“Oh! We can…”

“I have a bunch of Disney movies… If you want to watch a Disney movie. Have you seen Emperor’s New Groove?” I asked, as I nervously pulled at my fingertips. Spencer looked at my hands before looking up at my face. I hope he could pick up on the anxiety I was feeling. And if he did, he didn’t say anything about it. Thankfully.

“No, I haven’t. Is it good?” 

“I’ll put it on.” I nervously smiled before going to my TV to get the movie ready. Spencer quietly took a seat on the couch as I put the DVD in the DVD player. Once the movie was in, I stood up and went to join him. I sat on the opposite end of the couch.

Of course, by the time we got to the halfway point of the movie, I was sitting closer to him, and even holding his hand. It did take a little convincing for him to do that though. 

And then we were at the end. The credits were about 5 minutes away from rolling. My head rested on his shoulder. We were very comfortable with the little bit of cuddling that was happening. 

“Hey Spencer…” I mumbled, as I lifted my head off his shoulder. Spencer looked over at me with a mildly worried look in his eyes. “C-Can we kiss?” 

“Y-you want… I’m sorry, you want to kiss… Me?” he asked as he looked at me. I looked back at his face and nodded. I quickly looked down and away from him once I realized how stupid that question was.

“We don’t have to… It was just a silly question… I was just thinking about our conversation the other day… And, well… Just ignore me,” I muttered as I waved off the question. I hated this feeling that I felt. 

“Silly question?”

“Yeah, it was.”

“Do you… Want to kiss?” 

‘Well yeah, I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to.’ I thought to myself. I looked up at Spencer, and nodded. I didn’t trust myself enough to speak. 

“R-Right now?” 

“Like I said, we don’t-” my thought was cut off by Spencer awkwardly resting his hand on my face and bringing my face to his. Our lips lightly touched.

I don’t know why I do these things to myself. Because I almost couldn’t breathe just with the thought of kissing him. But now it’s actually happening and I was holding my breath. 

Spencer’s lips were soft, yet mildly chapped. He was so gentle, and I loved it. I loved every moment of it. While one of his hands held my face, his other hand held mine. It made me feel calm and safe. But Spencer had that effect on me. He carefully moved his head and deepened the kiss. Our noses smushed together as he moved. 

After a few moments passed, we pulled away from each other. I kept still and my eyes closed. My body was trying to regulate itself and teach itself to breathe again.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked after a moment of silence. I swallowed roughly and nodded. 

“Yeah, I’m… Okay.” 

“Was that up to your expectations?”

“Honestly?” I asked and looked at him. He nodded his head lightly. “I don’t know what I was expecting,” I whispered. 

I don’t know a lot of things. But I do know this kiss was the best thing to happen to me. {***}{***}{***}

The kiss was… several weeks ago and nothing came of it. Everything went back to normal after the date and we didn’t speak of it. I learned my lesson though and didn’t give any details to the other women of the team. 

Just when I thought things were okay, Spencer and I were forced to share a room while on a case. I never had an issue before sharing a room with him. But this was the first time we’d be spending time alone together since the date and kiss.  And to make matters even worse for both of us… it wasn't just the room we were sharing. It was the bed too.

The tension in the room was high. It was just a kiss for christ’s sake. It was the bed that made it awkward. If we had two queens, like we were told, I’m sure there’d be no awkwardness about this. But unfortunately for both of us… We didn’t get the two queens.

Spencer sat on the far side and I sat on the other side of the bed. There was enough space between us to allow at least another adult to join us. He was reading a book, whereas I was reading over the file. 

I hated the tension in the room.

“I’m going to shower,” Spencer announced to the room. I looked away from the folder I was holding and at him.

“Okay. Good luck,” I smiled softly at him. He looked back at me and nodded before entering the bathroom. I dropped my file to my lap before slipping off the bed and going to the fridge. He was a quick shower person, so I doubt he’ll be in there too long. I just had to keep busy till he came back out, then I could go to sleep. I don’t want him worrying about waking me up. 

Once I had a snack, I returned to my seat on the bed. Deciding I was finished with the gory details of the case file, I clicked the television on, going through the channels before deciding to shut it off. Why would anything good be on TV in a hotel in the middle of nowhere? Sitting in the silence of the room was better than the garbage soap operas.

After about 10 minutes of my loneliness, the bathroom door opened, and out stepped Spencer, with just a towel around his waist. It was so hard to keep my eyes off him. This was torturous… This was honest to God all on him. He probably knew what he was doing.

“Forgot my clothes.” He looked at me with an awkward smile as he lifted his clothes. I looked up at his face and nodded.

“Yeah, yeah,” I whispered as I looked at the apple core in my hand. 

Sure. I’m sure that’s exactly what you did.

I watched as he quickly went back into the bathroom. I closed my eyes just as he looked back at me. I silently prayed that he didn’t notice my staring. But who am I to kid? It’s Spencer freaking Reid. He definitely noticed me staring.

Spencer came back out, this time wearing his pajamas, which consisted of a matching set of a light blue button up sleep shirt, and light blue bottoms, five minutes later.  He quietly took his spot on his side of the bed, sitting on the very edge. I hated how much space was between us, and I hated how tense it was. 

The silence in the room was only occupied by the pages of Spencer’s book being turned. I hated the silence too. It was hard to say how much time passed, but it was a while before anything was said. 

I looked over at him, watching him for a moment before saying, “Is everything okay?” I paused and swallowed roughly. “Between us, I mean?” I looked at Spencer with a worried crease in my brow. He looked back at me, a confused expression on his face.

“Yeah, yeah, why wouldn’t we be? Did somethin-”

“We’ve been walking on eggshells since we kissed each other. And that was so long ago, Spencer. I was just making sure…”

“No, nothing’s wrong between us. I promise.” 

“You were my first kiss, you know,” I whispered as I looked up at him. He looked back at me with a nervous look in his eyes. 

“I wish I could say you were mine…” Spencer returned with a certain sadness in his words. He moved so he was standing between my legs. 

“It was a damn good first kiss, too,” I laughed sadly. Spencer raised an eyebrow before grasping both my hands. “I like you, you know,” I finally looked up at him, “And I have for a while.”

“I like you, too,” he finally said, as he placed his book on the night stand.

“No, not like… I like like you, Spencer. Not as a friend,” I muttered as I looked away.

“I know,” he whispered. I looked up at him, feeling my heart leap to my throat. “Me too.”

I really thought he just liked me as ‘just friends’. I thought that for a while, too. But why else would he kiss me? Maybe it was a pity kiss? But it was such a nice kiss. 

“Really?” 

“Yes, really.” Spencer nodded with a bright smile. I smiled as he reached for my hand. “I was surprised when you asked to kiss me because I didn’t think you liked me that way.”

“Why else would I ask you to kiss me?!”

“Well… I don’t know.”

“K-Kiss me again… If you like me, kiss me again,” I whispered, as I looked up at his face. Spencer looked back at me before slowly leaning over to me. 

Our lips met in a tender kiss. And after a brief moment, we both deepened it. My hands lifted to hold his face as Spencer moved to straddle my waist. My body slowly slipped down the bed, and Spencer followed along. I laid down, perfectly on the pillow with Spencer holding himself over me. It was like there was a silent understanding. We both wanted more, but we didn’t want to be vocal about it… yet.

Something was about to change tonight… Actually, a lot of things were going to change tonight.

Spencer wrapped his arms around my waist, lifting my body up into his. He delicately pressed his hips into mine, prompting a soft moan to come from me. My fingers got tangled in his hair, gently tugging at it. I quickly brought my hands to hold his face, keeping him in place. Another soft moan fell from my lips, causing Spencer to freeze. I didn’t mean to moan. It was just an accident.

“Wait, wait,” Spencer breathed out against my lips. “We should seriously think about this before we do anything else,” he said as he pushed away from me. I looked up at him with eyes.

He quickly rushed off the bed, almost falling into the dresser. I sat up a little bit and watched as he paced back and forth in front of the bed. Seriously think about it before anything happens… And if nothing happens, nothing happens, it’ll be fine.

I moved to sit on the edge of the bed, waiting. Spencer stood a few feet away, talking to himself. I understood why though. I mean, I was talking to myself too, trying to get myself off the edge. My heart was going a million miles an hour, like I was a roadrunner outrunning a coyote. 

Spencer continued walking back and forth, his hands going through his hair as he muttered to himself.

I looked up at him before I spoke. "We don't have to have sex-" 

"I know," Spencer cut me off before looking over at me. I lifted my arms to cover my chest as he stared. "I want to. I want to do this," he stepped closer to me. “You’re the person I want to do this with.”

I looked at him, watching as he lifted a hand to my face. 

“I want to do this with you too, but if you’re going to think so hard about it… Maybe we shouldn’t,” I whispered as I brought a hand to his. A small smile grew across his lips before he nodded.

“I agree. I want to do this. However… I’m ready. I’m not thinking too hard about it. And I want to do this with you,” he repeated.

“I want to do this with you, too.” I smiled softly. Spencer smiled again before meeting to kiss me. 

As he continued kissing, we moved back up on the bed. Just like before, his arms wrapped around my waist. His hips ground against mine, eliciting another soft moan from me. My hands found their way to his shirt, pulling at it and the buttons to rip it open. Neither of us cared that buttons popped off and flew all over. 

My fingers danced up and down his chest, tracing over the faint definition on his chest. Spencer smiled softly against my mouth. He pulled one of his hands away from my back, and rested it at the top of my shorts, right on my bare hip.

“Keep… Keep touching me,” I mumbled as I held his face close to mine. A small, but nervous, smile grew across his lips as he slipped his hand up my shirt. His fingers danced along my sides as he worked his way up to my bra. My breathing slowly grew ragged as he brushed against the hooks of my bra. “M-More,” I stumbled over my words.

Spencer laughed softly as he struggled to unhook my bra. I smiled once the hooks were undone. His hand was so gentle over my breast that it took my breath away. He massaged the supple skin, causing soft moans to come from me. I took a deep breath as he continued rolling his hips into the thin fabric of my pajama shorts. It was intoxicating how large his bulge felt between my legs, nearly breathtaking.  

I needed more from him. He wasn’t touching me enough. 

“I-I need more,” I cried against his lips. Spencer looked down at me, his eyes filled and blown out from the lust. He carefully brought his hand back down to my shorts. My stomach flinched at the delicate touches he made before he was cupping over my clothed sex.

My body instinctively moved away from him. When Spencer sensed my slight uneasiness, he went to remove his hand. But I stopped him, grabbing his wrist and keeping his hand against me. When he realized that this was really what I wanted, he nodded lightly before carefully pushing past the waistband of my pants. 

“Is this okay?” Spencer murmured against my lips. I gasped lightly as his finger moved against me. 

“I-It feels so good, Spencer,” I gasped as his movements hastened. I threw my arms around his neck before pulling him lower to me. I quickly buried my face in the nape of his neck. Soft and strangled moans fell from my lips, into his skin. 

Any conversation between us stopped, and the room was filled with my pitiful moans. Everything he was doing felt so good, any thought I had quickly went away the moment it came. 

“Keep going…” I breathed out. I could feel a tension in my stomach, getting close to popping. It was impossible to stay quiet at this point. Spencer gently pressed a finger into my entrance. The heel of his palm brushed against my clit, causing me to squeal from pleasure and excitement.

 I just hope no one else on the team was in the neighboring rooms… 

“I’m so close, Spen-Ahh.” My words were cut off by a louder moan than before. 

Spencer kept his movements going as he started to whisper soft nothings into my ear. When he started pressing his lips against my jawbone, everything came crashing in. My body jerked slightly and my moans got a little louder. It felt as if the only thing I could say was Spencer’s name. 

Once I was for sure down from my high, Spencer looked down at me with an amused expression on his face.

“W-wait, that’s not it.” I brought my hands back to his face. Spencer smiled and nodded. 

“No that’s not it. I don’t want that to be it,” he whispered before pressing his lips to mine. He guided me back up so I was in a sitting position. I pushed my hands over his shoulders, pushing his shirt off in one go. Then I moved my hands to his sweats. 

“Are we really about to do this?” I asked, mostly to myself, as I played with the drawstrings of his sweats. 

“We do-”

“You keep saying that and it makes me think you don’t want this,” I pointed out as I lifted my head to look at him. But what I didn’t realize was how close his head was to mine, causing me to bash my head into his face. “Oh my god! Are you okay!? I’m so sorry! I-I didn’t mean to!”

“It’s okay,” Spencer spoke as he held his face. I looked at him and nodded. I was so happy his nose wasn’t bleeding. That would’ve killed the moment way more than it was already.

“Well, now I’m sure you don’t want to make love with me,” I mumbled as I looked away. Spencer quickly brought his hand to my face, coaxing me to look at him. 

“I never said that. It was an accident.” 

“So you do?” 

Instead of answering me with words, Spencer pressed his lips back to mine. I took a deep breath as he started pulling my shirt off. Our shirts, and my bra both sat on the floor in a pitiful pile. His hands went back to my shorts, helping me take them off. 

Spencer pushed me back against the bed before pulling his pants off. I looked up at him as he moved to hover over me. I could feel my breathing pick up, feeling my chest tighten the more serious this moment got. 

"Are you sure?" Spencer asked from between my legs. I watched as he carefully lowered so he was closer to my face. 

"I'm sure, I'm ready," I whispered and looked up at him. "Are you sure?" 

"Positive," he whispered with a smile. He gently grabbed one of my hands off my chest and held it beside my head. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," I mumbled. I realized my words didn't sound too convincing. But I swear I was fine. "Just scared."

"You don't have to be scared. Nothing bad is going to happen,” he whispered. Part of me almost said, out loud, ‘That we know of’ but my excitement was bigger than my terror. 

"I know… I'm just… I freaked myself out. That's all." I nervously chuckled. Spencer smiled before carefully pecking my lips. "I mean, we made it this far…"

"It's not too late to back down now."

"No, I know… I want this. Please. Please tell me you want it too."

"I only want to do this with you," he whispered. He lifted our hands up and pressed his lips to my knuckles, "Ready?"

"Yeah, yeah," I whispered. My free hand quickly fell away from my chest and then grasped the sheet beside me. My grip was so tight that I was partly worried there’d be holes in the cloth when we were finished.

Spencer looked down at me with a kindness in his eyes. My legs were parted and sat on either side of him, making for easy access. He carefully pressed the head of his cock at my still sensitive sex. My eyes fell shut and my head tilted back as he pressed into me. 

It was slow at first. Spencer pressed into me inch by inch every few seconds. Once he was fully in me, we both froze, trying to adjust to each other. My legs tensed the moment he bottomed out. Every ounce of air that was in me was knocked from my lungs. 

I opened my eyes and looked up at Spencer. He was off in another world, his eyes glued to where our bodies met. I wondered what was going through his head at what he saw and what he was feeling. I just knew what I was feeling and saw.

Which was, I felt amazing and complete. And Spencer looked ethereal in this very moment. We fit together like a puzzle piece. Everyone always said sex was overrated and boring. But I was ready to argue that. I loved this intimacy between us.

Spencer finally looked up at me with a small smile. It was obvious he didn’t know what to do, exactly. Granted I wasn’t entirely sure what to do either. 

“M-Move,” I instructed, as I lifted for his hands. He widened his eyes once he realized what he was doing. He grasped my hand before starting to roll his hips like before. A high pitched whine came from my throat as he moved slowly.

Spencer looked down at me with a concerned look in his eyes. He cautiously moved so his face was over mine. I swallowed roughly and looked up at him.

“Are you- Is this okay?” Spencer’s voice was gentle as he held my face. I bit my lips together and nodded lightly. My muscles clenched around him once the pleasure slowly started to build up again.

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Just… Keep going, please,” I whimpered against his lips. Spencer nodded, again, before pressing his lips to mine. 

“God, you feel so good! I-I’ve never felt anything like you,” Spencer moaned into my ear. Another moan came from the pit of my stomach. 

I couldn’t stop myself when my hips jerked up to meet his, intensifying the feelings. As Spencer continued to move his hips against me, our lips stayed together. My hands cupped his face as we moaned into each other's mouths. 

“W-Wait, I wanna. I wanna see,” I murmured against his lips before pushing him away. He looked down at me with pure adoration in his eyes, watching as I looked down at where we connected. And then I realized why he was staring for so long. I quickly looked back up at him with wide eyes. “You also feel so good.” I smiled weakly, as my fingers slipped down to hold his jaw. Spencer returned the smile before pressing his lips to mine. “I love you,” I breathlessly whispered. He looked at me with a soft smile and nodded. 

“I love you, too.” 

It was hard to say how much longer we both lasted, but it wasn’t too long. His movements quickened, but also grew sloppy the closer he got. I quickly moved a hand between our bodies and began moving my fingers over my clit. 

“Cum with me, please,” Spencer begged into my ear. I gasped and nodded. After a few more faulty movements, I came, and moments later Spencer came, filling me with an unfamiliar warmth in my stomach. 

Spencer fell onto the bed beside me. His breathing heavy as he tried to catch his breath. I smiled as I looked at him, moving closer to him as I continued to crave his touch.

“I didn’t know you knew what to do,” I laughed nervously as I looked up at him. Spencer laughed as he looked back down at me. 

“N-Neither did I… I just continued doing whatever was making you moan,” he returned the laughter before moving closer to me. I smiled when he wrapped his arms around me. “Was it everything you were expecting?”

“I’m not sure what I was expecting… But yeah, it was.” I smiled and nodded. I looked up at him, watching as his features softened. “You?

“Amazing, because I did it with you.” 

“I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.” I smiled before reaching to kiss him. “I should shower… I hate the feeling of sweat and,” I paused for a moment, thinking about how raunchy what I was about to say was. “Cum... dripping from my body.”

“Sounds good,” Spencer whispered before pressing his lips to mine. “I’ll wait till you get out to clean-”

“You can come with, Weirdo.” I pulled his hand and dragged him out of the bed.

{***}{***}{***}

“Heard this weird noise coming from the room next over from mine,” Derek spoke as he looked over at Spencer. I choked on my coffee and looked down at the table with wide eyes. “You get lucky last night, Pretty Boy?”

“Uh, I… Well…”

“Yeah, that’s… We were hearing weird noises from the room next to ours, too,” Emily pointed out as she looked at JJ. I swallowed roughly. I could feel my cheeks instantly heating up with everything that was about to happen.

“Who’s the lucky lady, Reid?” Derek asked. I looked over at Spencer, watching as his face turned three shades red. 

“Well, who’s the lucky guy?” JJ looked at me with a smirk. Emily and  Derek looked at each other, before looking at Spencer and I.

“No-” 

“-You guys didn’t.” They spoke over each other once they realized what we had done.

“Hey, Spencer, truth or dare?”

“I-I’m sorry?”

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth…”

“Did we have sex last night?”

if you want to be a part of a taglist (lmk if ur 18+ for smut) or have any comments about this one-shot, let me know here

taglist:  @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @spencersmagic @muffin-cup @thebluetint @misshale21 @spenciegoob @ash19871962 @babebenhardy @flipperpenguins​ @kuolonsyoja​

[emilyshotchniss]

Starting Fresh

Summary: After your best friend Elle leaves the BAU, you’re devastated - and a replacement agent is just adding salt to the wound. Or is it?

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Fem! BAU reader

Warnings: a little angst? fluff, non-graphic implied smut, nothing major:)

Word Count: 1677

Oh you have got to be kidding me...

You looked up from your desk to find a slender brunette woman standing in Hotch's office. She was carrying a large box, presumably filled with her things, and that could only mean one thing: she was likely Elle's replacement. You rolled your eyes as JJ called you all into the roundtable room, interrupting Hotch's conversation with said brunette, leaving her standing doe-eyed in the doorway, clutching her box. You followed JJ to meet the others, huffing as you went.

"Her body isn't even cold yet! She's been gone less than a week!" You exclaimed to the others.

"Y/N, calm down. We don't even know who she is," Derek said, trying to reassure you. Hotch entered the room with Gideon, looking both annoyed and confused.

"Who was that in your office?" You asked, trying to act cool.

"Nobody. JJ, lets present," He said, abruptly changing the subject.

********************

You made your way across the jet and sat opposite Hotch. He glanced up at you, waiting for you to speak. You squirmed awkwardly, before blurting out your question.

"I just need to know one thing... Is she replacing Elle?" You asked.

"Y/N, not now. I know how close you were with Elle, but this is a private matter." He stated.

"Fine," You sighed, and made your way over to Gideon, at the other end of the jet.

"Hey Gideon, can I ask you something?"

"Fire away kiddo," He replied.

"That woman... You know, the one from Hotch's office this morning? Is she replacing Elle?" You asked, desperate for some more information.

"Look," He began. "I don't know who she is, or why she's here, but she has all the right paperwork saying she's supposed to be here. Hotch is waiting to hear back from Strauss about her." He told you, keeping his voice low so Hotch wouldn't hear. You knew he'd be honest with you, he was almost like a father figure to you, ever since he took you under his wing when you first joined the team. He knew that Elle was your best friend, and how much her leaving affected you - and thought it only fair you knew all the information regarding her vacant position.

"Thank you, Gideon," You said, sincerely.

"Anytime kiddo," He replied, before returning to his book.

*************************

You returned from St Louis, laughing with the team as you entered the bullpen. You noticed the light in Hotch's office was on, and upon closer investigation you saw the same brunette sitting on Hotch's couch, waiting. You knew then she'd be sticking around.

"Alright guys, I'm heading out," You declared, masking your true emotions, dodging everyones' glances.

You walked swiftly to your car, and got in quickly. Everything then hit you at once - Elle was gone - and she was never coming back. Your best friend, was gone for good. You wiped your tears, and drove home, preparing yourself for the difficult day ahead of you.

***************************

Walking into the bullpen the next morning, you saw the brunette arranging some of her things opposite your desk - what was Elle's desk, was now her desk. You sighed, rolling your eyes, psyching yourself up, when Garcia body-blocked you.

"Stop." She stated.

"Ugh- Penelope," You said, attempting to get past, and failing miserably.

"Before you go any further, fix your face. I know she's not Elle and I know you miss her, but she's only trying to do her job. She's actually very lovely," She replied, smiling and booping your nose as she moved aside.

"Okay Garcia, I'll give her a shot," I said, walking up to my desk, when I heard my name.

"Y/N? Agent Y/N Y/L/N?" The voice said. "Hi, I'm Agent Emily Prentiss," She said, extending her hand for you to shake. You hadn't noticed over the last few days, but she had gorgeous brown eyes, you could almost get lost in them.

"Y- Yes, hi," You replied, shaking her hand, before sitting down. "You nervous?" I joked.

"Uh- yeah, actually, a little. I hear I have big shoes to fill," She said, with a sympathetic look in her eyes.

"That you do," You replied, trying to be nice, "But don't worry, I have a feeling you'll fit right in," You finished, no longer faking the niceness, finding it easier to speak to her as the conversation went on. But god, those eyes...

***********************

"The cell members bailed out through a tunnel, the DEA recovered a nextel two-way and managed to intercept a message," JJ began, handing each of us a piece of paper, when she stopped Emily.

"That's not the transcript, it's-" She began, but Emily stopped her.

"No, it's in Arabic," She stated.

"Uh, our friends surprised us and eloped, we can no longer wait for the wedding as planned, we can deliver our gift at the next crescent." She said, oblivious to everyone's stares and gaping jaws. She looked up, as embarrassment flushed over her cheeks. I was in awe.

"I lived in several middle eastern countries growing up," She mumbled. This woman really was full of surprises, wasn't she? You didn't know what you were feeling, but as soon as you met those dark brown eyes you knew there was something different about her. I placed my hand on her thigh, reassuring her. She smiled gently in return, placing her hand delicately on top of yours, squeezing it gently. You were secretly praying that she would be your new field partner, but knowing Hotch and his trust issues, she probably wouldn't even fly with us.

You all returned to your desks, as Hotch and Gideon stood in his office doorway, quite obviously discussing Emily.

"Jason, this is an interrogation, not a training exercise." Hotch said sternly.

"She's the only member fluent in Arabic," Gideon countered.

"There's other translators," Hotch replied. You and Emily both glanced up from your desks.

"They haven't studied behavior," Gideon rebutted again.

"Does she even have her ready bag yet?" Hotch asked. At this, I noticed Emily duck beneath her desk, fumbling about.

"My guess is there isn't much that woman's unprepared for," Gideon said. Just as the words left Gideons' mouth, Emily re-emerged from below her desk, sliding her packed ready bag onto the table, standing awkwardly next to it. You couldn't help but giggle at her, which caught her attention.

"What," She grinned.

"Nothing, it- it's just your cute, that's all," You smiled back, causing her to blush. You had no idea where your boldness was coming from, but you weren't lying - she was cute...

"Prentiss, Y/L/N, you're flying with Gideon to Guantanamo, car leaves in 4 minutes." Hotch stated.

"Yes sir," You both replied, Emily struggling to hide her wide smile. She had the most amazing smile...

********************************

The team returned back from GTMO, after an exhausting few days. Thankfully, you were able to prevent the terrorist attack that Al Ikhteraa had planned, and everyone was headed to O'Keefe's for drinks. Hotch went straight home to Haley and Jack, and Gideon decided to skip. You were headed to your cars, when Emily stopped you right before you unlocked your door.

"Hey, Y/N wait up," She said, running over to you. You immediately felt your palms begin to sweat and your heart rate increase. You never expected to - but you liked her. A lot.

"Hey, I just wanted to say thank you," She began.

"Thank you? For what?" You said, letting out a confused giggle. She smiled back, sending the butterflies in your stomach crazy..

"Oh, just helping me settle in the last few days,and being the most awesome field partner I could've asked for, having my back and all," She continued. "I know it couldn't have been easy, you know, they told me you were close with Agent Greenaway," She said. Oh my god - you'd gone the whole week without thinking about Elle once. Were you finally moving past her?

"Uh- Uh yeah, yeah, she was my best friend." I replied, looking at the ground.

"I'm sorry, that must've been difficult," She said, grabbing your arm, the physical contact sending chills down your spine. Screw it. You had had a great week despite your first ideas, and you were feeling bold.

"I wanted to hate you so badly," You began, catching her off guard. "I wanted to hate you, because you were replacing Elle, because I knew that you joining the team would make me have to accept that my best friend was gone, and never coming back." She tightened her grip on your arm, softly stroking it with her thumb.

"But as soon as we first spoke, I knew there was something about you that I couldn't quite put my finger on. And as the week went on, I only became more sure." You continued, smiling at her, making her blush.

"Sure of what?" She questioned, nervously giggling.

"Sure that I wanted to do this..." You hummed, before grabbing her waist and pulling her close to you, then gently placing your lips on hers. You panicked when you didn't feel her kiss back initially, but were reassured when you felt her tongue brush over your bottom lip. You started slow, but things progressed fairly quickly and she took control, pushing you flush against your car. She let out a few faint groans of pleasure, before you pulled away for air, grinning from ear to ear, feeling like you were going to burst with happiness.

"You still wanna get drinks?" She whispered.

"I have other plans in mind, if you'd like to join me," You winked, before unlocking your car.

"I'd love to," She replied, jumping in the passenger side. The whole car journey home was filled with stolen glances and wandering hands, and when you finally arrived at your apartment, you could barely contain yourselves. Lips met, clothes were ripped from each other, and you spent the night exploring every inch of each other. You both knew then that this was the beginning of a beautiful adventure...

[comfortwriting]

Best Friends Brother Part 3 - G.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompt Masterlist

This is part 3 of ‘Best Friends Brother’ please read part 1 and part 2, want to be tagged? let me know! 

George Weasley x Fem Reader slow burn

Warnings: mention of food and eating, swearing, 

The moment your lips touched, fireworks went off around you, George wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to him - all of your worries withering away, all you could feel was happiness and pure bliss.

George pulled away from the kiss and slowly opened his eyes, you were in shocked and couldn’t believe who’s lips had collided with yours moments before.

Opening your eyes slowly, you stared into George’s brown ones, his gentle hands holding yours and squeezing them softly.

“T-Thank you for tonight” you blushed, letting go of one of his hands, tucking a stray hair behind your ear nervously “It’s been wonderful.”

George smiled softly and nodded “it has” he paused for a moment, his thumb tracing circles into your palm “same time next week?” he asked, sounding quite nervous.

You squeezed his hand back in excitement and nodded “I would love to” you beamed.

Your three month anniversary was hanging around the corner, you had planned a whole day out on Saturday once George finished Quidditch practice, your heart fluttering in excitement and skipping beats, causing you to squirm in your seat - giggling out and squealing, confusing those around you, especially Ron who thought you were going barmy.

Despite seeing each other every day, the two of you were keeping things secret, you weren't ready for anyone to know - George knew his little brother all too well and so did you, Ron would be far from happy.

“George didn’t say anything to you after he, you know?” Ron asked, acting quite shifty in his chair.

“No he didn’t” you replied, “he’s not interested in me Ron, he just hates creeps.”

“Where were you last night?” Ron asked over breakfast, staring at you questioningly.

Shit! Think of something! I totally wasn’t kissing your brother, no, not at all.

“I went for a walk” you lied “I just had so much energy and needed to get out, I found an injured little owlet and was up all night nursing it, he’s helping me get over Penny.”

Ron believed you and nodded slowly “are you sure you’re ready for another owl?” he asked, trying to sound as caring as he could.

You sighed “I think it’s about time, yeah” you replied “It’s been almost over a year so I figured why not.”

So instead, you wrote to each other a few times a week, you had to admit, you quite liked the schedule; Wednesdays and Sundays nights were for the love letters, Saturdays were for dates unless he couldn’t skip Quidditch and the rest of the week you barely spoke and only engaged in eye contact if you were in the company of others - if not, you would hold hands and kiss in empty broom closets or even in the astronomy tower, but it was rare as Fred was never far behind from his twin.

Dearest Y/N,

Although we see each other every day and go on dates most weekends (when Ron isn’t on your back, or when I’m in detention like now) writing to you feels just as good as the real thing - but still bloody ridiculous.

Fred keeps asking what I’ve spent my Galleons on, told him it was for an experiment to do with our products we’re testing - he’s suspicious but believes me after I made myself sick to get out of Quidditch, oh the things I do for you, Y/N.

I think Gideon is the perfect name for the Owlet, mum will be so heart warmed and honoured when she finds out - but don’t bring the galleons into it of course, not until the joke shop is up and running with great success!

Seeing you last night up in the Astronomy tower was nothing short of the highlight of my day, I wish we could do it more often, but not to worry - one day we won’t need to meet up in private at all.

Anyway, I better get back to some homework before the greaseball comes over and reads this - detention with him always drags.

The next one will be longer, I promise, love.

Lots of love,

Georgie.

Dear George,

You should be focusing, get your head down and do your homework if you can bear it, I swear George, the day I receive a letter from you that wasn’t written in detention will be the day I wink at Snape - it’s silly I’m even asking you knowing that it’s never going to happen.

Your letters always cheer me up, Georgie, I can hear your voice as I read, feels like you’re sitting next to me and it’s good enough for me at the time being, I’m so thankful that we aren’t hundreds of miles away from each other.

Hey! You can’t be skipping Quidditch for me, you plonker! Gryffindor team need you and you’re a bloody good Beater - unbeatable in fact but stop skipping! we can make up for a lost date another time, I’ll try not to miss you too much I swear.

Thank you for gifting me Gideon, he is the sweetest little owlet and I cannot wait to watch him grow and to teach him like I did Penny - if his mother will let me that is. I won’t say a word to anyone, no one will know that you did such a thing although I want nothing more than to tell everyone, your kind-heartedness should never go unnoticed.

The joke shop will sweep you up off your feet and I can’t wait to see Weasley wizard Wheezes everywhere I go.

Thank you so much for last night, please don’t forget to send me your Christmas list - please don’t get me anything - Gideon is enough.

Focus on your bloody homework!

Speak soon and lots of love,

Y/N.

Looking over and your Owl, now named Gideon who had grown so much he was no longer a tiny owlet, you stroked his head and giggled at him as he nibbled on your finger.

“Alright, alright, but don’t be out too long” you whispered, opening your bedroom window, Gideon flapping his wings, leaping out and soaring into the night sky.

You beamed at your treasure, flying away to get some food for the evening, climbing into your bed as quietly as you could, hoping you wouldn’t wake up Hermione or your other roommates. Sliding your hand under your pillow, you patted around for the love letters from George you were hiding from everyone.

Your fingers grazed the corners of the crinkled parchment, lifting up your pillow you retrieved his most recent letter, taking it with you as you dive under your covers, shielding you from your roommates and giving you some privacy.

“Lumos!” You whispered, a beam of light stretching out from the tip of your wand, your cheeks flushing again upon seeing George’s handwriting.

Dearest Y/N,

Thank you for the heads-up, saved me and Freddie a lot of trouble, I swear one day Mr Filch and that bloody cat won’t know what’s hit them - if it wasn’t for you, we would’ve lost all of our plans and The Marauders Map, so thank you again for saving us all that trouble.

These three months have flown by so fast, I can’t believe it, I know this seems rather daft - a tall prankster being all lovey-dovey like this, but you really make me happy and I can’t wait to spend more time with you.

If you ever want to test any puking pastilles or fainting fancies, let me know and I’ll be able to look after you, love.

Looking forward to seeing you on Saturday so we can actually speak face to face - if Ron asks, you already know what to say.

Wrap up warm, it’ll be quite cold in Hogsmeade.

Looking forward to seeing you,

lots of love,

Georgie.

“Where are you off to so early? We never see you anymore over the weekend!” Ron complained, a mouthful of bacon.

“Oh get some manners, Ronald!” Hermione hissed, knitting her eyebrows together and grimacing.

You stood on the spot and stared at Ron, trying to plaster the most obvious expression on your face to make him feel stupid. “I’m off to spend some quality time with Gideon, he’s only a few months old and I want to make sure he’s as stable as Penny was at her age - I won’t be able to trust him to send letters long distances otherwise.” you lied.

But in all honesty, you weren’t really lying completely, next weekend was the end of term and the start of the Christmas Holidays - you wanted to make sure Gideon could deliver George’s letters to the burrow, you wouldn’t be able to hide them around for him to stumble across and pick up any more, and the two of you already discussed the problems of trying to use a device which muggles called a telephone.

“I’ll write you letters every week” George whispered, standing next to you in the corridors swarming with busy students, Fred chasing after Angelina outside “look in the middle of your textbooks, I’ll slide them in the middle of the pages.”

Opening up your book, a piece of folded parchment slid down and fell into your lap, you quickly stuffed it into your pocket, looking around to see if Ron noticed - luckily for you who he was copying Hermione’s classwork.

Ron looked lost for words, swallowing his bacon and thinking about your owl and how much you truly loved them “Alright then, well, see you later.” he replied,

You raised your eyebrows and smiled, waving goodbye to him, Harry and Hermione, walking out of the Great Hall and getting ready to meet George in Hogsmeade.

“She spends too much time with that bloody owl if you ask me” Ron muttered, stabbing some peas with his fork.

Hermione sighed “I think it’s quite sweet actually, she’s quite similar to Hagrid.”

Harry grinned and started to laugh, Ron rolled his eyes.

“Except the fact that she’s not a giant and she only flocks to birds of prey, not dragons or creatures that could kill us!”

“Well, at least you know where she’s going” Fred called out, walking past his brother “George never tells me where he’s off to and what he’s up to on a Saturday, he’s skiving Quidditch practice again and I get in bothered for it - I can’t check either because he’s got that sodding map with him!”

George wasn’t wrong, this time of year, Hogsmeade was freezing - your fingers changed colour and you could feel the ache and tingle against the freezing air that nibbled on your exposed skin.

You embraced yourself in one of the jumpers he had given you, one you were wearing under your fluffy winter coat which matched the colour of the snow. Looking around the small Village, you noticed George waiting outside The Three Broomsticks, looking slightly nervous as he scratched the back of his head.

You walked up to him, as you got closer you couldn’t help but blush at his red nose that had been attacked from the harsh winter air “Hello, George” you smiled softly, pulling him into a hug after clearing the coast of possible students.

George held you in his arms for a moment, taking in your scent and the feeling of your face against his chest, your hair under his chin as it rested on your head. “shall we get a drink, love?” he asked softly.

Following him inside and getting sat down in a quieter area of the pub, George ordered you and him a butterbeer and held your hand over the table, casually checking the map every now and then, checking on his brothers.

“It’s so good to see your face” he smiled, his starry eyes getting lost in yours.

You blushed and smiled widely, your drinks being placed down on your table, “It’s so good to see you too, can’t believe it’s been three months already!”

George took a sip of his butterbeer, the butterscotch warming up his tummy, you mirrored him, leaving behind a white foamy moustache. George smirked and leaned over the table, carefully avoiding spilling his drink as he wiped away the foam sitting on your top lip with his thumb, his index finger lifting up your chin.

The two of you exchanged a quick, risky kiss, remembering you needed to tone things down despite how hard the temptation was to snog him. George leaned back in his chair, sucking the foam off his thumb.

“I’ve been training Gideon” you beamed, the butterbeer warming you up “he’s finally got the hang of flying long distances and coming back in one piece.”

Meeting George in the small and squashed broom closet, he examined your tired features, looking slightly concerned, his hand resting against your face.

“Are you alright love?” he asked, “you look exhausted.”

You nodded and replied “I’m fine” suppressing a yawn “been up all night with Gideon, he’s growing so fast and he won’t allow me to baby him forever - he’ll be big enough to deliver letters soon.”

George felt a part of him fall in love with you all over again, the picture of you and Gideon in his mind made his insides got all warm and fuzzy - more so than his drink.

“So now he’ll be delivering you letters over Christmas!”

George went quiet and scratched behind his head like he did when he stood outside the pub, he paused for a moment and pursed his lips, licking them. “About that..” he trailed off, staring at his now half-full glass of butterbeer.

Your insides started to sink suddenly but your hopes were lifting, trying to figure out what he was going to say.

Is he staying at Hogwarts for Christmas with me whilst everyone else goes home? Am I unable to send him letters over Christmas if he goes back home?

“What is it?” you asked, both curiously and nervously.

George broke out into a smile, quickly glancing at the map again, then looking back into his favourite pair of eyes.

“Well, I was wondering...” he paused again “if you would like to stay at the burrow over Christmas, with me, everyone else of course but-”

“Yes!” you squealed, getting excited “oh George I would love to!”

George broke out into a grin, so relieved you were willing to come and spend some more time with him, a chance for the two of you to try and get some private time together, in the comfort of his own home.

“I had to ask mum ‘on behalf of Ron’ so if she says anything, just go through with it” George said quietly “Ron wouldn’t remember asking me to do such a thing anyway - his head is that clouded with Hermione.”

You swallowed down the rest of your drink, remembering to wipe away your foamy moustache this time “This is going to be wonderful, George” you smiled, squeezing his hand over to the table “Two whole weeks that we can just.. just be ourselves together!”

George smiled but remembered to remind you “We still need to keep everything on the down-low, it will be a full house and if we disappear it will be obvious we’re together - we’ll just need to wait for everyone to go to bed or go for a walk when they’re too busy to notice.”

You nodded your head, remembering that you would now be under not just Ron’s watch, but every Weasley who wouldn’t approve of your budding relationship.

George kissed your hand and looked down at the map once more, his smile dropping.

“Shit!” he panicked, getting up out of his seat.

“What is it?” you panicked, following him to the back doors in the pub.

He stared down at the map, his eyes following the group of feet storming into Hogsmeade “Fred, Ron, Harry - everyone’s heading this way - to this bloody pub!”

You swallowed hard, the butterbeer churning in your stomach, George’s drink rising up into his throat.

“When we can get away I’ll head to the owlery!” you put your coat back on, pulling the zip up quickly “you go hurry to Honey Dukes or Zonko’s when you get the chance, you’ll find your letter folded in your Quidditch jersey!”

George nodded, looking up from the map and quickly kissing you on the lips, the look in his eyes expressing the most sympathy you had ever seen.

Keeping things a secret would only get harder, harder than you and George were expecting.

Tag list: @amourtentiaa @reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @alwaysnforeverfangirl @horrorxweasley @sebby-staan @xmalfoyweasleyx​

[etherrealoblivion]

We Both Know

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Spencer Reid is a virgin. Which he is totally fine with! The problem? He still hasn't told his girlfriend, Y/N, for fear of being teased. When he tells her, her reaction is ... surprising, to say the least.

A/N: Season two Spencer. Season two team. Prepare your self for all-knowing Gideon. Fulfilling this request. for @gublergirls​. “~” indicates a POV shift.

tags: Dom/sub, unprotected sex, choking, first time, Virgin!Spencer

RATING: EXPLICIT

Words: 7,014

MASTERLIST

~

Spencer Reid had never done anything remotely sexual before.

Okay, he’d kissed before. Once. In Highschool. On a dare. For half a second.

Okay … so he was pretty inexperienced. Which he didn’t mind at all! The one downside was he was now going steady with a wonderful, amazing girl who he was definitely falling head over heels for, and he had no idea how to tell her.

Luckily, they’d already been working together for about a year before they started dating, which made the shift to a relationship much easier. And them being together didn’t affect their job performance at all. For the most part…. So all Spencer had to do was avoid bringing up his … lack of experience, around her. Things were pretty good.

But things, in Spencer’s experience, had a way of turning sour.

“Hey, Spencer!” she found him standing outside of the elevator after work one Friday, standing up on her tiptoes and planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Y/N! We’re at work!” he muttered, glancing around as a light blush formed on his cheeks.

“Nobody’s here! It’s fineeee,” she whined, pulling off his glasses and bringing him down into a real kiss.

Woah. She’d never kissed him like this before. They’d only been dating for a couple of weeks now - though their relationship felt much older— and she’d pretty much only given him chaste kisses with very little tongue. 

Not because she didn’t want to! In fact, she had said multiple times that she did, but Reid wanted to take things slow and he’d expressed this to her once they’d started dating. She had told him she respected his boundaries no matter what and she was ready to wait for as long as he needed.

Clearly, though, she was starting to get a little impatient.

“Let’s go home,” she said quietly, pulling him into the elevator, Spencer staying silent the whole way back to her apartment.

He was trying to think of another excuse that was reasonable. She had told him over and over again that they could take things as slowly as he needed. But still, there were scary thoughts lurking deep in his mind that kept telling him to hold back, to keep distance between them.

If he told her he was a … if he told her he’d never had sex before, surely she’d make fun of him. That’s what everyone always did. Would she be any different?

“Spencer?” she took his hand as they entered, very carefully leading him back to her bedroom. 

“I, um … I have to finish some paperwork for-”

“Spencer,” she sat on the bed, slowly removing her blouse, revealing a dark red brassiere with a beautiful lace pattern. He unconsciously licked his lips. “I know you wanted to take things slowly, but … maybe we can try something … new tonight? If you want?”

She reached to the front of her bra where the clasp was, snapping it open and letting it fall down her shoulders, Spencer’s eyes feasting on her full breasts. 

His shock must have been very apparent on his face because she stood, slowly pulling down her work pants and moving to stand right in front of Spencer, her hands dancing down his chest, slowly unbuttoning his shirt.

“Is this okay?” she asked, watching him carefully. 

His eyes were blown wide and his mouth slightly open. The words froze in his throat, terrified to say anything.

But he hadn’t said yes, so she stopped, waiting for him to answer.

“Spencer?”

“I … I can’t, Y/N.”

“Okay. Can I ask why? You don’t have to answer.”

He backed away, feeling idiotic and ashamed. She’d never want to be with him once she knew….

“I’m…. I’ve never….”

A look of realization glanced over her face, sending a spark of sadness through Spencer’s heart.

“I should go. I’ll see you at work.”

“What?!”

She had reached out, grabbing his arm and holding him back. Spencer sighed.

“You want to end things between us, I understand.”

Surprisingly, she chuckled very softly, pulling him down to sit with her on the bed, sliding her blouse back on.

“Spencer, why would you think I … Do you really think I’d want to end things just because of that?”

“Well… yeah,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You deserve someone who knows what they’re doing. You deserve someone who can actually make you feel good. I’ve never…. I can’t-I can’t do that.”

“Oh, honey,” she tilted his face up to hers, smiled warmly, and planted a tender kiss right on his lips.

What was she doing? Why wasn’t she laughing and kicking him out? 

“Spencer, I don’t care that you’ve never had sex before. I mean, I kind of thought maybe, anyway. You can tell me this kind of stuff, I’m not going to judge you. But, I understand if you aren’t ready. Spencer, I’d wait years for you. And don’t you dare think for a second that you don’t make me feel good!”

The neurons in his brain were firing at a million miles a minute. She really didn’t care? She still wanted to be with him?

“Really?”

“Yeah!” her smile could power every lamp in Washington D.C. “Plus, it’s not like there’s either having sex or not having sex. There’s a lot of in-betweens I’d be happy to work with, if you wanted to, of course.”

“What-um-what do you mean ‘in-betweens’?”

“Well, um … there’s-there’s oral-” Spencer jumped slightly at the word, bouncing the bed, “Or we can just touch each other? There’s so much between kissing and actual penetrative sex. Maybe, tonight, we can just kiss for a while, and if you wanna take things further, let me know, okay?”

Spencer nodded, following her as she pulled him further up the bed so they were lying side by side.

“Can I kiss you?”

He nodded his head and the moment he did, she surged forward, their lips meeting yet again.

God, she tasted so good. Spencer could do this for hours and hours and not go any further. She was intoxicating and he was addicted.

However, his hands moved under her blouse of their own accord, gently sliding up her stomach and hovering over her breast.

“Can I. . . ?”

“Yes,” she whispered in his ear, the sound sending a shock down his body to his groin and he moved his hand to cup her, moaning into her mouth at the feeling.

Unconsciously, his hips jolted forward, making contact with the top of her thigh. A low grunt left his mouth between them and he thrust again, gently grinding against her.

“Is this okay?”

“Yes, baby,” she whispered, “Actually, just put … there,” she sighed as she adjusted so that his leg was between hers, now grinding up against her thin panties.

To Spencer’s surprise, and delight, she began moaning and writhing, pushing herself closer to him, throwing a leg around his hips and yanking him against her so their clothed crotches finally met. Simultaneously, they gasped, forming a steady pace of gently grinding against each other.

Emboldened by her sounds, Spencer dipped his head down to the crook of her neck and lightly kissed. At her insistence, he deepened the kisses, starting to suck on the skin, leaving little red patches behind as he went lower.

When he reached right where her stomach stopped, he looked up, asking for permission to continue. She simply nodded, lacing her fingers through his hair and pushing him lower. A plethora of curses and moans left her as he gently licked a stripe up over her panties, thighs tightening around his head.

“Fuck, Spencer,” she groaned, trying to pull him closer and closer with each swipe of his tongue. “Wait, you’ve gotta stop!”

He snapped away, terrified he’d done something wrong but was quickly met with her tongue meandering around his mouth, coaxing moans and gasps from him.

He gently pulled back and moved to the side of her.

“Did I hurt you?”

She laughed, not meanly, not teasingly, but warmly, like he’d said something endearing.

“No, baby. Actually, you made me feel really good. I, um, If you’d have kept going I’m not sure I would have been able to stop.”

“Oh… Well, um, we can-”

“Spencer,” she spoke sternly but with a wide smile on her face. “As much as I’d love to do some horrible, amazing things to you, I don’t think it’d be a good idea to do that tonight, okay?”

Clearly that was the right call, judging by the wave of relief that washed over him when she said it.

“Okay,” and they cuddled up to go to sleep, peacefully slipping into dreams of future possibilities.

~

Sure, you were surprised when he’d told you, but it wasn’t like you hadn’t seen it coming. Countless times on cases, he’d freeze up at the word sex, or opt for a more clinical descriptor such as coitus or intercourse. At first, you assumed it was just to do with his innocent nature. It made sense; he wasn’t the type to go bragging about various conquests after a late night.

But, surely, he must’ve done something before.

I mean, he was twenty-four. The statistics spoke for themselves; for god’s sake, Spencer probably had them memorized. 

And even stranger, the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. He’d been twelve when he’d graduated high-school. Went to college at fourteen. Probably never really had the opportunity to … befriend … people his own age.

Of course, he didn’t need to worry at all. You weren’t going to judge him one bit. In fact, you were ashamed to admit the prospect might have gotten you the tiniest bit excited. 

All the men you’d been with had done it before with countless women, including your very first time. The only serious boyfriend you’d had was the one you hadn’t gotten the chance to sleep with yet. Spencer.

The thing was, if he hadn’t told you, you probably wouldn’t have known. There wouldn’t be any reason to believe the way he’d touched you last weekend wasn’t the millionth time he’d done it. He had moved with such tenacity, such nimbleness. Though there was a sureness, a confidence that was missing from his movements. He wasn’t lying. He’d never had sex.

Actually, that wasn’t what he’d said. He said: I’ve never… and then trailed off. 

At work on Monday, as the elevator doors opened, you found yourself wondering to what extent that ‘never’ went.

“Hey, Y/L/N,” Morgan called from the bullpen, holding up a coffee and nodding his head. “It’s got your name on it.”

Thankful for the caffeine, you took the cup and gulped down as much as you could stand. The hot liquid went down your throat smoothly and produced a wonderful placebo effect of instant energy.

“Thanks, I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Morgan slapped you on the back and said, “My woman! Who’s the lucky guy?”

Right. Neither you nor Spencer had told the team about the two of you yet. Hotch, of course, was aware, making sure you signed the necessary papers and had you assure him it wouldn’t affect your job performance were things to go south.

But the rest of the team was blissfully ignorant as to the true nature of your close relationship with the good doctor.

“It’s not like that, Morgan. A damn car alarm was going off until two a.m.”

At that moment, Reid walked in gulping down his own beverage, an extra one in his hand, dark circles under his own eyes which remained partially closed as he sat and yawned.

“Woah, looks like Pretty Boy, here, also had something keeping him up all night, though I’m hoping he got a little more action than a car alarm.”

Spencer and you exchanged a worried look. Because, in fact, he had also been kept up by a car alarm, the very same one you had. So he needed to think of another excuse before it became apparent that the two of you had very similar reasons for insomnia.

“No, sadly. Just a bit late because the bus was slow and the fatigue is due to noisy neighbors who were probably getting considerably more quote-unquote action than I. Prentiss,” he handed her the extra coffee cup which she took gratefully. “Got you a latte.”

Suddenly, you felt someone’s eye boring into you. Looking to your left, you saw Gideon looking at you strangely.

Shit. Reid didn’t take the bus anymore, a fact he’d let slip a couple of days ago, prompting lots of questions from Morgan. Surely the Gideon wouldn’t miss a detail like that, being the seasoned profile he was.

Luckily, J.J. was there to save the day.

“We’ve got a case.”

And you were off before Morgan could question why you were able to hear a car alarm from your seventh-floor apartment uptown.

~

Once in a while, the team got a pretty open and shut case. A rare unsub would come along who was sloppy and left enough clues to have you home within a couple of days.

This wasn’t one of those times.

Spencer, as always, was working hard on the geological profile, mapping out the areas where the unsub had been killing. Normally, the work would have come easy to him; he could work the case like he always did, narrowing it down to a science, a pattern, a formula.

Which would have been easy if not for the fact that his secret girlfriend and partner was wearing the lowest cut tanktop on the planet.

“Hey, can you hand me a pen?”

And as she spoke, he made the mistake of taking his eyes off the map, coming face to face with Y/N, her chest far too on display.

“Huh? Oh! Yeah,” he muttered, handing her the closest pen and gluing his eyes back down to the chart under the guise of inspecting the distance between crime scenes. 

“Spence, are you seeing this?”

He looked up again reluctantly, trying to prepare himself for the sight of her.

“Look at the victim’s shoes,” she pointed to the drawing board where the mangled corpses of the first four women.

“Red Adidas, converse all-stars, yellow sandals, and pink Gucci pumps. I don’t understand, those are all very different shoes.”

He turned to her and was surprised to find a shocked smile on her face.

“What?”

Smirking, she said, “Okay, you are explaining why you know so much about women’s shoes later but now,” she yanked the pictures of the shoes off of the board, placing them on the map and leaning over it, her cleavage so exposed Spencer could have looked straight down her top … if he was a creep, which he wasn’t. He wasn’t. He wasn’t!

“Spence! Look at this. Each of the shoes matches the crime scenes, right?”

“Sure, pumps outside a nightclub, Adidas on a hiking trail—”

“Right! But the thing is, they don’t match! The woman found outside the club was wearing sandals. The woman found on the hiking trail had on, guess what—”

“—pumps.”

“He’s switching their shoes!”

He smiled brightly at her, happy they’d finally got a new lead. Sadly, the tight red tank top drew his eyes towards the curve of her breast far too enticingly. He couldn’t stop himself from wondering what she’d look like splayed out underneath him, writhing like she had last weekend, begging him to fuck her. He wondered why that thought was so enticing. 

Oh god, she was looking at him.

“Nice solve, Doctor.”

He glanced away, warmth flooding his cheeks and busying himself with dialing Garcia’s number, quickly spouting off what they’d found and asking her to relay it to the team. When he turned back, Y/N was smirking at his, arms crossed, pressing her breasts together every so subtly.

“Hey, Spence?”

He gulped, struggling to maintain eye contact.

“Yeah?”

She stepped so closely to him, their lips almost touching and Spencer silently thanked the local cops for the private room. When she spoke, her breath ghosted over his neck and her whispers in his ear were enough to cause an uncomfortable growth in his trousers.

“Hand me a pen?”

Motherfucker.

~

You weren’t an idiot, you knew the effect the tight red top would have on Spencer. What you hadn’t expected, though, was how much he’d let it show.

Every now and then, you’d wear a slightly more … form-fitting … outfit for the sole purpose of messing with him. He’d never really shown much indication that he noticed before…. Until now.

He had ogled you like a teenage boy seeing cleavage for the first time. You swore he licked his lips twice the usual amount.

Had something changed? Was your top too low cut? Oh god, had you gone too far? But he didn’t seem to mind the teasing before. Something had changed.

Oh.

Oh!

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, Gideon shooting you a look from where he sat across from you. The plane was dead silent but for the soft whirring of the engine. Most of the team was asleep, Spencer included. You and Gideon were the only ones still awake.

“Sorry,” you muttered, attempting to hide your face in the book you’d been pretending to read.

Gideon didn’t respond but you could feel the intensity of his gaze from behind the hardcover. 

Setting your book down, you shot him a very accusing look, shrugging your shoulders.

“What?”

It was the most incriminating word you’d spoken to him in the past ten minutes. You could tell just from the way his eyes narrowed that he was putting two and two together, although you didn’t know what the twos were.

When he finally spoke, it was to say something you’d seen coming from a mile away, though that didn’t make it any less surprising.

“Reid doesn’t take the bus anymore.”

You glanced away, damning yourself even further.

“Oh, yeah, he mentioned that a few days ago. Why?”

For an FBI profiler, you were a shit liar. You knew it and Gideon knew you knew.

There was a very long silence where he simply analyzed you, not in an intrusive way, but as though he was a faraway observer who could read your smallest movements like they were words on a page. His whole birdwatching thing made so much more sense now that you were the one under his gaze.

Gideon was a man of little words, making the ones he chose to speak all the more impactful.

“He’s a gentle soul. Be careful.”

After a moment of floundering, the reality hit you that this wasn’t a man worth trying to fool. Gideon knew. And when Gideon knew, there was no trying to convince him otherwise.

~

The case had ended amicably, the unsub captured after the fifth casualty but before he could kill the sixth. There was a strange sense of relief, pride, and guilt coursing through Spencer on the way back home.

Falling asleep on the jet helped, but only temporarily. The moment he got home, he jumped in the shower, hoping to wash away any memory of the horrible murders he saw on a daily basis.

The water pressure at Y/N’s place was heavenly. He hoped she didn’t think he just stayed the night so often because of that. Although, her apartment was much nicer than his. She was so nice to let him crash whenever he wanted, and he was always happy to return the favor.

He wondered what other favors she’d return. About this same time last week, he had his head buried between her thighs, licking up her—

Fuck. Now he was hard and he couldn’t bring himself to masturbate in her shower. The irony was too much, even for him. So, like a very sexually repressed gentleman, he turned off the shower and dried himself off, wrapping the towel around his waist and stepping out into her bedroom.

He really should have jerked off.

Because Y/N was sitting on the far side of the bed, letting her hair fall loose from the bun it had been in for the past few days, kicking off her shoes, and slowly pulling the tight red tank top up and off of her torso, revealing an equally red lace bralette.

He really should have jerked off.

She turned toward him, a smile lighting up her face at his appearance.

“Hey, Spencer. You okay? You look a little … red.” She narrowed her eyes and the word and puffed out her chest ever so slightly. A less experienced profiler may have missed it.

Finally realizing he hadn’t answered her, he grunted, “Yep. I’m okey-dokey. A hundred percent. I’m great!”

He cringed, knowing she’d pick up on the overcompensation.

She, being the awesome profiler and friend she was, did.

“C’mere,” she pat the space on the bed next to her, and Spencer was drawn to it like a magnet. He was a bit worried about the lack of clothes shared between them and the fact that he was sporting a rather persistent half-chub, well hidden under the fluffy white towel. Y/N had the best towels.

“What’s up, Spence?”

She was so perfect. Not perfect as in like, no flaws. But perfect as in, if her flaws could be personified, Spencer would hug and caress each and every one of them. To him, she was a treasure. She was perfectly imperfect.

“I’m okay, really, just … got a lot on my mind.”

She broke eye-contact at that, making Spencer start to think that she understood how he was feeling a lot better than he’d assumed.

“What about you? Are you … okay?”

“Yes. Yeah, I am. Just thinking about something Gideon … well, it wasn’t quite said, you know?”

Spencer chuckled. He knew all too well how a simple look from their mentor could speak volumes.

“Yeah, I know, but … it seems like there’s something more to it?”

She sighed, laying back and resting against the overstuffed pillows, staring up at the popcorn ceiling. Uh oh. Usually, she only did that when she was really troubled.

“Spencer, I need to tell you something. I feel awful because I’m not sure if you’re ready to hear it and I don’t even know if it’s ready to be said. God knows how the hell I’ve waited this long. I’m sorry if this is too much but …”

He froze, heartbeat quickening, and preparing himself for the inevitable bad news-slash-heartbreak. Y/N sat up and stared at him intensely, sending a jolt through him.

“... I love you, Spencer.”

~

You weren’t sure exactly how he’d take it, but this is pretty much what you’d imagined.

“W-what?”

“Spencer….” you took his hand, lightly stroking the back of it and trying not to pull away at his tension. “I love you.”

Before you could go into a long rant about your feelings, his lips were on yours, followed soon by his body, pinning you down and kissing you with a passion you’d never felt from him before.

But he was off of you just as quick as he’d come, a terrified expression on his face.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

You pulled him back towards you to shut him up, shoving your tongue in his mouth, impatiently deepening the kiss. This time, he didn’t hesitate to let his hands roam your body, lightly trailing up your sides causing you to gasp breathily.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No,” you chuckled softly, “although,” you gently moved his hands down his bare torso, resting on the top of the towel, “you can if you want to.”

His eyes widened and you reached around your back to unclasp your bra, tossing it to the abyss next to the bed.

“W-what?”

“I saw the way you looked at me this week.”

Spencer twitched, breaking eye contact but staying close, unsure of what to say.

“How-how was I looking at you?”

His eyes were glazed over and you could feel his hardness against your thigh, pressing against you with only the towel between you.

“Like you wanted me,” you whispered into his ear, moving a hand under the towel and snaking around his length, slowly moving it back and forth. It was the first time you’d touched him there. At the movement, he dropped his head into the crook of your shoulder, cursing lightly.

You wanted to keep going so badly. You wanted to yank the towel off, flip him over and show him how you could make him feel. But you didn’t want to put any pressure whatsoever onto him. 

“Listen, Spencer, I meant what I said, okay? We never have to do anything you aren’t a hundred percent sure that you wanna do. We can stop right here if you want. But….” You gently shifted underneath him, slowly sliding your panties down your legs, moving Spencer’s hand to rest right above your entrance. There was a sharp intake of breath above you and you looked up to see his eyes the size of the moon.

“If you want to do this,” you leaned in, gently nibbling his earlobe and whispering as quietly as you could, “I need you to fuck me right now.”

~

All resolve left in Spencer left him the moment the words escaped her perfectly full lips. His hands flew to hers, lifting them up above her head and pinning them there, delighting in the grunt that left her as their mouths collided yet again. This time, however, Spencer did not pull back.

“Fuck, Spencer!” she yelped, hands running through his hair, pulling him tight against her. 

When he finally ran out of breath, he pulled back, leaving just enough space between them to say, “I want to. I’m-I’m ready.”

Her eyes shone with the love she’d declared moment earlier and Spencer’s heart swelled.  

“Are you sure?”

Of course she wanted to make sure. She was only the best girlfriend ever. And that’s why Spencer knew he wanted to share himself with her. Spencer wanted her to know how special she was to him. He wanted to feel how special he was to her.

“I’m sure.” Then, not sure what had come over him, he leaned into her ear, voice dropping an octave, and muttered, “I’m ready to fuck you.”

He could have sworn he heard her growl under her breath as she shot right back, “Do it then. Doctor.”

God, something about that title got to him like nothing else. The implied authority that came with it was just too delicious when it rolled off her tongue.

Emboldened by the honorary, he quickly kissed a trail down her chest to her stomach, lightly stroking his tongue everywhere but where she wanted it. 

“Mmf—Spencer…. Pleeease!”

His hand snapped over her mouth and she gasped at the sudden silence.

Okay, trust in the fact that Spencer had nooooo idea where what he said next came from.

“You want me to fuck you so bad? Huh? You think begging for it like a cheap fucking whore will make me wanna fuck you? You only get fucked when I say so. Understand me?”

Whatever she said was muffled under his hand which he kindly removed.

“What was that?”

“Yes,” she breathed, hands still where they had been pinned down, staying there only of her own accord. Beautiful. 

Reaching one hand up to her breast to lightly play with her nipple, the other went low, gently circling the area around her clit.

“Yes, what?” he said with the most authority in his tone that he could muster.

For a moment it seemed she wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but when it hit her, Spencer swore he saw her … you know … twitch.

“Yes, Sir,” she said with a filthy moan, finally moving her hands into his hair, pulling toward her center, begging him to do something— anything.

And, oh, boy did he oblige.

Now, Spencer had never really been anywhere near a woman’s … parts … before. But! He’d read up on this subject plenty in the recent weeks in preparation. In theory, he knew just what to do. In practice ….

“FUCK! Yes, Oh my goooddddd, Spencerrrrr!”

Well, he must’ve been doing something right.

~

Holy motherfucking jesus fucking fucking christ!

How the fuck was he doing this?

Jolts of pleasure burst through your body with each stroke of his tongue against your clit. Before you could enjoy the small circles he was rubbing there for too long, he slipped a finger inside of you, lightly curling it upward and thrusting in and out, searching for the spot to drive you wild.

Again, how the fuck was he doing this?

The only possible explanation was that he’s secretly had sex a million and ten times, becoming so aware of what exactly drove a woman crazy that he knew exactly how to move between your legs.

But this was Spencer. He didn’t lie to you. So all of … this … was coming naturally to him.

And soon, you’d be too. 

“Ah! Spencer, w-where is this c-coming from?”

His lips left you, pulling back just enough to give you a dazzling smile, his chin glistening gloriously.

“I’ve read over ten thousand pages of articles on pleasing a woman in the past week. Studies show that small circular motions of the tongue on the clitoris combined with one or two—”

“Spencer,” you panted, tightly grasping the wrist that was inches from your core, “I love you so much but if you don’t shut up right now—”

“—Hey, you asked.”

And he dove back down, continuing his ministrations, bringing you closer and closer to the brink of pure ecstasy. His tongue was flicking so quickly that you swore you saw stars. Every three or so seconds, a low moan left your throat, along with several curses and deep breaths.

The tension in your stomach was tightening, signifying the oncoming orgasm that was soon to come.

But all too quickly, and all too suddenly, Spencer withdrew, bringing his head back up to kiss you deeply, running his tongue along your lips and moaning onto your mouth as he continued to pump his fingers into you.

“You like this? You like feeling my fingers filling you up?”

“Yes,” you squeaked out, nails dragging down his back as you hoped and prayed he’d give you more. “Yes, please, Spencer….”

A sharp yank of your hair made your head fall back against the pillow, Spencer forcing you to meet his eyes. They were so dark. There was such desire behind them like you’d never seen from him before.

“Yes, what? Huh? Say it.”

You didn’t even need to think about what you were saying; the words sprang from your mouth with no effort at all, attempting any buzzwords that would set him off.

“I want you to fuck me, Spencer. I want to feel you fill me up and fuck me like I’m your little whore. I want you to hold me down while you do it, make me yours. I wanna be yours.”

He grunted, absentmindedly thrusting against your thigh as he listened to your words. When he spoke, you expected him to speak with the same commanding tone he’d been using, but were surprised to hear the familiar soft voice of your boyfriend.

“Hey,” he met your eyes, slightly frowning, “Is this okay? I mean … do you really want that?”

You didn’t even need to attempt to give him a reassuring smile; one came naturally.

“Of course, Spence. I want you. I’ll always want you.” Then, at his hesitation: “Do you want to take things slower? We can take a step back, just say the word.”

You placed your hand on his cheek, softly bringing his mind back to the present moment from where it had no doubt been drifting in waves of worry.

“I’m ready. I am ready. I want you,” he said, so gently, so sweetly that you knew with all of your being that he meant it.

More importantly, you know what else he meant. He wasn’t ready to say it yet, and you were fine with that. Besides, he probably knew that you knew. And if you both knew, why would he need to say it?

“Okay. Let’s go slow, okay?”

He nodded, eyes widening to the size of dinner plates. It must’ve finally dawned on him that this was really happening.

“Now, I got tested a few weeks ago and everything came back negative. I’m on hormonal birth control and have been for a while now. There are condoms in the drawer there, but it’s totally up to you. I’m comfortable with whatever you are.”

You could see the gears in his mind turning. In true Spencer Reid fashion, he was weighing the risks and rewards. You expected him to want to use a condom, which was totally fine and made sense with how responsible he was. But you selfishly wanted to know what he felt like skin to skin inside of you.

Which is why it was such a surprise when he said—

“Let’s do it without.”

“Wait, really?”

He nodded, drawing small patterns on your stomach absentmindedly with one hand, the other stroking your hair.

“We’re both clean, little to no pregnancy risk. Plus I … I’d like to know how … um.”

“How it feels?” you offered.

He sighed, relieved to not have to say it.

“Yeah. Is that okay?”

“Yes! Yes, Spencer. That’s kind of what I was hoping you’d say.”

“Really?”

You nodded this time, bringing him in for a soft kiss, keeping it rather chaste as you slowly slipped a hand down, guiding his member to your entrance, delighting in the gasp he let slip as you positioned him.

Slowly, keeping your mouth against his, you used his cock to gently spread you open, pressing the head just against your core. Above you, he was practically vibrating with the effort of holding back.

“Ready?”

“Ready,” he whispered through gritted teeth.

Hooking your legs around his back, you withdrew your hand and clenched your legs, slowly pulling him into you.

Both of you moaned simultaneously at the feeling, Spencer’s face falling into an open expression of pure ecstasy.

“Oh my god,” he groaned once he was completely sheathed within you. The feeling of him, bare, inside of you was so much to comprehend. You could tell he was probably thinking the same thing. Actually, it looked like all his effort was going into staying still, waiting for you to get accustomed to his size.

You’d told him that you’d never been with someone who was nearly as … well-endowed as he. He must have really taken those words to heart.

“Can I-can I move now?” he muttered, clearly straining to stay still.

“Yes.”

The moment you said it, he pulled back, grunting in your ear at the feeling and slowly slid back in, gasping when he bottomed out.

“Oh god, Y/N….”

“Please, Spencer.” You yanked him back by the hair so he could see your eyes, see how seriously you meant what you were about to say. “Fuck me.”

One of the many things you loved about Spencer: he always listened to you. Sometimes, to a fault.

Because the instant you asked, he delivered, pounding into you so hard that stars exploded in your eyes with each thrust. His hands dug so hard into your legs you were sure they’d leave bruises. With each thrust, his hipbones made sharp contact with your inner thighs and you grunted at the pain.

He started to hesitate, clearly clocking the pained expression on your face.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No! Please— oh god— don’t fucking stop, Spencer.”

His hands were everywhere all at once, pulling your hair, grasping your neck, your chest, your legs. Every time he pulled out of you, he would hesitate for a half-second, just enough to make you think he was done, then he’d fuck back into you, driving you further up the bed with each thrust.

You would have been moaning louder if you weren’t so scared of missing a single word he was saying.

“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good. It’s really-it’s really tight.”

Laughing breathily in his ear, you said, “Yeah, well. That happens when it’s been a while.” Small moans broke through as he increased pace, hands slipping around your waist, pulling you down roughly onto him with each thrust. Your hips bumped together roughly every time, connecting painfully, wonderfully.

“Oh yeah?” Spencer lifted one of your legs up over his shoulder, driving much deeper now.  “Maybe your tight little cunt just isn’t used to getting fucked properly. Tell me, did the guys you were with before fuck you like this?”

Not able to bring yourself to speak, he pulled out completely and placed a solid hand around your throat, barely cutting off the circulation.

“Answer me, now!”

“No! Uhn— Spencer…. No, I’ve never been fucked like this. You’re so … mmm…. so big!”

He reentered you sharply at the last word, continuing the hard pounding only this time, moving a hand to roughly circle your clit unrelentingly.

“Fuck!”

His other hand was digging into your ass and his thrusts were starting to falter.

“Y/N … I’m not sure how much … how much longer I can …”

So lost in the pure bliss he was giving you, you barely were able to process what he’d said. When you did, you made sure to reassure him.

“Do it, come with me.”

“Fuck, Y/N. I-I lo—”

You placed a finger on his mouth, such a gentle gesture compared to the way he was pounding into you below that his eyes snapped open, locking with yours.

All you did was smile at him, an expression filled with as much energy as you could spare right now. A slight nod told him all he needed to know and he let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t need to say it right now. You knew and he knew, anyway.

He stroked you twice more before you burst, suddenly so overwhelmed by the feeling of him inside you as your insides clenched around him. He felt so much bigger as you came and after a few more thrusts, you felt a warm sensation fill you up as he yelped softly above you.

You both came down from the high so slowly, eyes locked and breathing heavily.

Surprisingly, he didn’t collapse onto you as had happened with so many other men. He was using all his remaining strength to stay perfectly still above you, staring into your eyes with a shocked expression on his face. 

Finally, he shook out of it, pupils contracting and gently pulling out, both of you groaning at the feeling.

Laying down next to you, it was a full minute before either of you spoke.

“Wow.”

“Hah. Yeah.”

You turned to him and he did the same, an adorable smile gracing his face.

“So? How was it? Everything you expected?”

He sighed heavily, closing his eyes momentarily before answering.

“Words aren’t usually lost on me. I always seem to know what to say even in the most ineffable of times. That…. That was indescribable.”

You weren’t sure how much more praise you could take; your heart was already so full and the more he filled it, the more you felt like you were about to burst.

“You can say that again. I must say I’m rather ... surprised. No offense! I promise! But, well, for a virgin you sure as hell don’t fuck like one.”

He smiled doofily, placing a hand on your cheek and stroking the skin under your eye, his expression shifting to one of worry.

“You’re crying….”

You pulled away, quickly wiping your eyes.

“Sorry…. That… that happens sometimes.”

“Hey,” he pulled you back to him, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Don’t ever apologize. It actually means that there are very strong feelings between us. In fact, it’s referred to as postcoital dysphoria and is normally caused by a particularly powerful orgasm. It’s a way of your body releasing the pent up feelings.”

Spencer Reid somehow found a way to be adorable while talking scientifically about orgasms and crying. What the hell did you do to deserve this man? You loved him so much and you’d spend the rest of your life proving it to him without hesitation. He didn’t even need to say it back.

But, as always, Spencer couldn’t seem to stop surprising you.

“Y/N … I love you.”

The tears came quicker now and soft sobs left your chest. He pulled you against him, you tucking your head under his chin and smiling at the speed his arms found their way around you.

“I know,” you muttered into his chest, feeling him smile above you.

“We just had sex, I told you I loved you, and you’re quoting Star Wars?”

You pulled back to beam up at him.

“Is that not the reason you love me?”

He smiled down at you, his nose scrunching up ever so slightly as it always did when he was happy.

“One of the many. Another very new one being added to the memory banks after tonight,” he grinned, tapping the side of his head.

“Oh yeah? You love me ‘cause of the way I let you fuck me like a little whore?” you muttered in a low voice, wiggling your eyebrows as his face fell.

“Y-yeah….” he was breathless again, watching you intently.

Leaning in to whisper in his ear, you said the very thing you knew that he knew he wanted you to.

“Wanna do it again?”

“Oh fuck yes.”

And he climbed back on top of you, attaching his lips to yours and kissing you with a whole new passion.

Because he loved you and you loved him. And you both knew it. And that made it all worth it.

~

TAGLIST

~

@whollytaciturn​ @101donuts​ @thegingerfairchild @safertokiss @happyiidiot @cielo1984 @thupidalethea @darkacademiacherry @matthewreid @aloha-ashley-taylor @justchiara-02 @spnobsessedmemes @sweet-darlin @matthewreid​ @brokenanxiety​ @thatsonezesty13​ @psychedellic-phase @beautifulalmondstudentduck @awhollandx @baddreamsandbrokenhearts @simp-for-mgg @swagdaddycam @gejatume @url-under-construction @radkryptonitepeanut @idontneedalltheseemotions @krymson182

[toriwakes]

Problem [Spender Reid x Reader]

summary: the daughter of a famous chef becomes a target, and it’s spencer’s job to protect her.

content warnings: female!reader, cursing

a/n: hello!!! first spencer reid post!! so excited to share, sorry if it’s bad </3. this is obviously inspired by s1 ep18. hope u all enjoy, lmk if you have any requests!

dad was a famous chef. he was known world wide, liked by some and hated by some. that’s how it worked. she had gotten used to the spotlight. it was his, anyway. no one payed much attention to her. or so she thought. when the incident happened she had noticed a pattern. someone was watching her and she didn’t know who. why her? her dad, a hot head, wasn’t going to let this fly easily. and that was a problem.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

“davy plattel, 57. heard of him?” jennifer asked, clearly joking. “he’s an australian chef and has been on 5 different tv shows. all of which he rates food and has a tendency for being cold do this employees.” reid spat out the facts like he’s been waiting to be asked this question since he was born. the team just stared at him before jennifer spoke. “i was kidding.” spencer pressed his lips together as his cheeks flushed pink. “remind me why we’re looking into this guy?” morgan said, flicking through the files. “people going to his restaurants are getting poisoned, press says he’s snapped and is making them pay for making him look like a bad guy for all these years.” derek’s brows furrowed together. “and this is a b.a.u case because?” asked aaron. “right when the poisoning started-“ jj dropped a new file into his lap. “-his daughter (y/n) became a target.”

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

“you lot are supposed to be the best in the game. figure out who’s hurting my business and find who’s hurting my daughter!” hot head was right. platell was taken into a separate room by gideon and morgan, which left aaron and reid to scout for you. davy told them you’d be in your room. “(y/n) platell? i’m special agent aaron hotchner with the fbi. we’re here to ask you a couple of questions if that’s okay with you?” your eyes lifted from the floor and to the stern man sitting on the edge of your bed. whilst nodding you noticed the taller man in your doorway. “special agent doctor spencer reid. we’re here to help.” hotch and reid walked you to the backyard, a perfect place to interrogate you. “tell me about your relationship with your dad.” spencer spoke first. you gulped. “i love him. he’s my best friend. he’s all i have, okay? he’s overprotective, but whose dad isn’t? he’s going crazy now that the person doing this wants me.” “what about the person who’s after you? any idea who it could be? think of someone who felt invisible to you, inferior.” as hard as you thought, nothing clicked. you shook your head and hotch let out a sigh. “i’m scared.” you admitted. “nothing like this has ever happened before?” spencer asked, almost surprised. “no, everyone focused on him, never on me.” spencer looked like he put pieces together. aaron thanked you for your time and led you back inside, spencer following. you knew the feeling in your stomach. butterflies.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

things got worse at the end of the day. you got a voicemail, an unsettling voice whose gender wasn’t identifiable called, talking about how they didn’t like how much time you were spending with the fbi. not only did this enrage your dad, it caused him to take matters into his own hands and search the bushes around your house. he didn’t find anything. “did the caller say anything else?” gideon asked. you quivered. “they..” you couldn’t catch your breath. “they said they were going to come get me at midnight.” everyone in the room shared a look of panic. “we need to get her out of here.” aaron instructed. “what? no, she is staying with me.” for what felt like the hundredth time today, the agents had to calm down your dad. “we have a safe house to take you to. an agent will stay with you for the night.” jennifer told you. your mind immediately went to reid. “anyone in particular you’d like?” she said, one hand on your shoulder. you leaned into her ear, whispering the name that made you cheeks flush. “spencer.”

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

the car ride was mostly silent. spencer was playing with his fingers, something you did as well. “are you nervous?” you said finally. he stopped at once, putting his hands into his pockets. “wha? oh, no, i’m fine.” you knew he wasn’t, but you didn’t press. “um- when did you leave australia?” he asked. you giggled. “when my dad started to get recognition, so when i was maybe eight. i didn’t leave much behind, the kids at school didn’t like me. i made my first friend here. gina.” he nodded. “was she nice to you?” “always. never anything but. i get a hot head sometimes- just like my dad. on occasion i would lash out on her, but she always forgave me. i always regretted it, she was really good to me.” spencer furrowed his eyebrows. “what did she act like when you would get mad?” you gave him a look, as if to say “why is this important?”. “well, she would look sad at first. like she didn’t understand why i was mad. she made herself smaller and blamed herself for making me mad. i thought it was weird that she never tried to defend herself.” reid shuffled into his pocket and took out his phone, dialing a number and speaking quickly. “hotch, why have we not considered looking at people close to her? it’s just like the case with that government official and the twin sisters- it was someone close to him. her friend- gina you said?” you nodded quickly. “fits the profile, and is close to her.” voices spoke on the other line before reid asked another question. “what’s her full name?” “gina carmen torres.” spencer retreated the name and you could hear hotch say he’d alert garcia. “it’s not her, i know it’s not.” reid looked at you like you were wrong. you shivered.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

when you got to the house spencer advised that you showered and got ready for bed, spreaking since it was so close to midnight. he stayed outside the shower door and handed you your close when you were done. “cold?” he asked, taking notice of you shaky frame. you nodded. he handed you the sweater he was going to wear to bed tonight, not minding at all. there go the butterflies. you sat one the bed and slid under the covers. “you should get some rest, i’m gonna stay up and make sure nothing happens.” he said. you didn’t fall asleep. “is something wrong? other than the fact that you’re being stalked?” you couldn’t help but laugh. “yes, actually. i don’t wanna admit this, but..i cant fall asleep unless i’m hugging something. and i..don’t have any stuffed animals with me.” spencer raised his eyebrows. “(y/n) if you’re asking me to sleep next to you i-“ “please spence? i’m not gonna be able to sleep anyway, it’ll help at least.” you pleaded, showing off your puppy dog eyes. “okay. fine.”

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

spencer stayed up all night. sure he was required to stay awake, but he was only staying up because he didn’t want to miss out on how beautiful you looked when you were asleep. you looked so calm, so peaceful. spencer had no idea what he was feeling, but he didn’t want it to stop. he liked you, and a lot. “fuck.” he whispered to himself. the small noise made you stir, but not enough to wake you up. suddenly, a ring came from spencer’s phone. he picked it up before it could wake you. “hello?” he whispered. “reid, we got em bud. found her in the girl’s bedroom of platell’s house. is she safe?” morgan’s voice spoke. spencer looked down at you, petting your head gently. “yea, she’s safe.” “alright man. i’m guessing she’s asleep?” “correct.” “okay. just stay with her, we’ll be there soon anyway.” morgan hung up. soon? damnit, he didn’t have much time left with you. he checked the clock, reading 5am. he wanted to talk to you, but he wasn’t going to wake you up for that. what were you doing to him?

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

spencer woke you up at 7:30. “they’ll be here at 10, and i don’t really know your schedule so.. i hope that enough time to get ready.” you rubbed your eyes and examined spencer. he was wearing his sweats and found a white shirt that was a bit too tight on him. he looked cute. “yes, that’s fine. i’ll..i’ll be right back.” you left the room to brush your teeth and get changed, finding reid inspecting some books you had lying around. “i have two copies of that. one at home and one here. just in case.” you said, sitting down right next to him and peering over. “it’s a classic. you like to read?” he inquired. “love it. although i cant stick to a book unless there’s some type of romance.” spencer raised his eyebrows. “call me a dork, whatever. what’s wrong with being into a little bit of love?” you chuckled. “no, in fact i figured you’d be that way.” you rolled your eyes playfully. “profilers. well, tell me what you think of me.” spencer paused before speaking. “i think you’re smart, you know how to pick your relationships-“ “what do you mean by that?” he stopped and pursed his lips, finding what words to say. “you know what you want in friends and boyfriends.” you raised your eyebrows. he couldn’t possibly know. “are you saying you know my type?” he shrugged. “yeah probably.” “try me.” “you like smart guys. guys who are confident, but not full of themselves. you like it when they’re sweet, but demanding. though i don’t know what you find physically attractive.” he said, going back to the book. you pulled it out of his hands. “i can tell you that one. i like guys named spencer reid.” almost instantly his face flushed red and he stopped speaking. you took the liberty of leaning in, your lips ghosting his. “(y/n)-“ “kiss me spence.”

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

his lips were as soft as they looked. the way he kissed was new to you, but you adapted and matched his energy. due to this, he whimpered as he kissed you. you pulled back to look at him, his face was bright red. “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have-“ “spencer!” he cut himself off and looked at you with those full eyes of his. “don’t apologize. i liked it. a lot.” seeing that as his green light he cupped your chin and pulled you in for another quick kiss before getting up and getting ready himself.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

“(y/n)? (y/n)!” your dad showed up at the door a few hours later. “i was worried.” he whispered while you hugged. “i’m fine, dad. we’re fine.” when your dad let go of you and saw spencer lingering a bit too close, he connected the dots. “this boy didn’t try anything did he?” derek was listening now. you opened your mouth while turning to reid, whose eyes were wide with fear. “uh- no. he didn’t do anything but protect me, dad.” that didn’t let up his death stare on him. your dad wandered off to his car, everyone splitting up to leave home. “i’ll see you around.” spencer began to split up as well, but you caught his wrist. “check your pocket. see you.” with that you were gone. reaching into his back pocket, he felt something. a small piece of paper, you number etched on it with a small heart. you’re nothing like he’s used to. and thats a problem.

[imagineaworlds]

I Love You (Part Fifty-Seven) -- Aaron Hotchner

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: SMUT!! Cursing. Unprotected sex. Wrap it before you tap it, ladies, gentlemen, and nonbinary sibs. Dom/sub relationship. Mild edging. Impregnation kink. The reader does go by they/them pronouns, however, Hotch refers to them as female when saying “good girl”.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Greenaway!Reader

Word Count: 8391

Timeline: A few days after part fifty-six.

Criminal Minds Discord Server

November 2nd. Aaron Christopher Hotchner’s birthday only came a few days after Halloween, which just meant more sugar for the kids. Between the cookies on Halloween and the birthday cake on Hotch’s birthday, those kids were spoiled rotten. Not that I ever complained. I loved celebrating Hotch’s birthday, as much as he hated it, and I loved dedicating the whole day to him—again, even though he hated it. He disliked the idea of celebrating himself. Not to mention that celebrating his birthday just made him think of his mother, who was horrible to him, and that would lead him to remember his father, who was even worse. That was why over the past couple of years, I had been trying to turn that day into his day, and not his parents’. It was okay for him to be selfish. Aaron really struggled with thinking highly of himself, or even thinking anything about himself. He preferred the idea of just spending his time and energy on me, the kids, and work. Between all of that, there was hardly any time for himself. On his birthday, however, it was all about him, and I was going to make him love his birthday one of these days.

However, my plans seemed to be canon-balled in the side by my parents. They surprised me and Hotch with a call shortly after Halloween to let us know that they had decided to get back together, and that they had moved in together again. When I asked when this happened, my mom said a couple of months ago. So… they had been keeping that from me all this time? Them and Hotch with the fucking secrets. I let it slide, though, considering I always knew that they still loved each other and that they only split up in the first place because of work, but now that was all in the past. Now, they could just be them. In fact, that was why my parents called in the first place. They asked if they could have the kids for the day, and when I tried to argue that it was Hotch’s birthday so we wanted the kids home with us, my mom interrupted with: “Oh, perfect! We’ll take the kids for the day, then you guys can come over for a birthday dinner!”

Ugh…

The thing about my mom was that she was never really… there… when Elle and I were growing up. Because she worked for the CIA, she was gone a lot, the same way that Hotch and I were away from Scar and Jack so much. With her traveling so much, she hardly settled to do “motherly” things like learning to cook. Elle and I loved her dearly, okay. We did. But her cooking was like eating acid. For Hotch’s birthday, I was imagining something a little more special than battery acid. Yet, I couldn’t talk them out of it.

Hotch had sing-songed in my ear, “We’ll have the whole house to ourselves for the day…” which made me ultimately give in. Then, when I hung up on them, he said, “Who knows, maybe the kids’ll like your parents.”

I groaned. “Who ever likes their grandparents?”

“Celia and Ken are good people, baby. They’re fun, and they love you and Elle more than anything in the world. I’m sure they’ll be good with the kids.”

I squinted at him. “Fine.”

My dad picked up the kids early in the morning since he spent the night working at the Academy anyhow. They lived about an hour away from our house, so by the time they were gone, we only had lunch, the afternoon, and about an hour of the evening before we had to leave. What was supposed to be a day of fucking in every reasonable room of the house turned into us just staring at our bedroom ceiling, counting the minutes until we had to get ready. I was dreading dinner. Not only was the drive going to be unbearably long, but dinner itself was going to be complicated.

There were a thousand things from my past that Hotch didn’t know about, and I would’ve kept it that way, but knowing my parents, they were going to unknowingly spill the beans, and I was going to have to explain a thousand things after the fact. Great. I mean, it wasn’t that I was actively keeping it all a secret from him. It just never came up. I was sure that there was stuff in his own past that he didn’t bring up because he couldn’t remember at the time or because there was no point in mentioning it. But my parents were the embarrassing type. I thought that by dating an older guy, and kind of rushing our relationship, we could skip that whole “embarrassing dinner with the parents” spiel, yet there we were. Hence, why I was staring at the ceiling with him all day rather than running around the house naked.

While in the car, Hotch and I were extremely handsy with one another. He was trying to focus on the road, but I kept messing with his hair, or playing with the wedding ring on his finger as we held hands; meanwhile, he was kneading my thigh every so often, or caressing my cheek with his thumb, or brushing my hair out of my face. I wanted my attention to be on him. The whole day was supposed to be dedicated to him, yet I couldn’t think straight. Going home after years and years of not being there was just making me appreciate how far I had come, and now my mind was racing with memories, good and bad.

I had the love of my life, the job I always wanted, and I had an amazing, beautiful, nuclear family. My stepson loved me as his own mother. My daughter was perfect in every way. Just as I always anticipated, she lit up a room just with her very presence, and it was most obvious whenever she was around Reid or Morgan. My best friends, and one of them was the godfather of my child. My life was perfect. Going home, however, was just a reminder of a time when things weren’t perfect. I didn’t need that bringing me down right now.

“What’s wrong?” Hotch asked me when he took notice of how quiet I was.

I glanced over at him and sighed. “I love them, my parents. You know I do.”

“I know.”

“But I just don’t want to do this…”

“It’s too late.”

Silence hung in the air for another minute as I returned to deep thinking about what they could possibly say in front of Hotch that could upset either of us.

“What are you thinking about now?” he spoke up again.

“The past.”

He raised a brow. “Care to share with the class?”

I smiled and shuffled to face him. “Well, I was just thinking about how different I used to be before I joined the BAU and met you, and before we started dating. Even when we first started going out, we were so different than how we are now.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all.” I rested my elbow on the arm rest between us and stared up at him. “I used to work a shitty desk job, only dreaming about being where I am today. I had no friends, I didn’t talk to my parents or my sister, I hated my job, I lived in a one bedroom apartment in the city, and I didn’t have anyone I loved or who loved me back. I was entirely alone. And then everything changed when I met Jason Gideon and I solved the Footpath Killer problem faster than anyone else. So, I joined the BAU, thinking ‘What have I got to lose?’. Joined the team, made a friend or two, reconnected with my sister, and met a guy who was… well… my boss. He wouldn't leave me alone unless I went with him to dinner.” I poked Hotch’s dimple lightly when he smiled in response to my joke.

We both knew that he hadn’t chased after me. He wanted to. He really, truly wanted to chase after me, but he kept his distance because he thought that it would protect me, spare the team confusion, and spare himself potential heartache. But, eventually, he budged, and he asked me out. And by budged, I mean that I forced his hand. But it was cute to think that he would’ve chased after me if things had been slightly different. Maybe if I didn’t join the BAU, the chase would’ve happened naturally. Or maybe we would’ve continued staring and smiling at each other from a distance and nothing would ever happen because we were both cowards who didn’t know how to jump headfirst into a real relationship since we had been hurt one too many times before.

“And I guess he was cute, and I guess he was sweet…” I leaned in close and whispered in his ear, “And I guess he was good in bed…”

Hotch turned quickly and pressed a kiss to my lips before I could pull away from him. I smiled and pushed him back. “Tease,” he muttered under his breath.

“Shh,” I insisted. “I’m telling a story.” I sat back in my seat, swinging my legs over the arm rest between us so that my feet were on his thigh.

“That’s dangerous,” he warned.

“I trust you. Now, my story.” I hummed to myself, thinking about where I left off. “I gave up my life for a better part of a year for him and our relationship. So, I'm starting to think that this maybe might work, and the second it entered my head, he starts lying to me—”

“I didn’t lie—”

“No? What would you call what you did in Cincinnati, then?” I raised a playful brow. Hotch didn’t respond. He only licked his teeth and fell silent again so that I could continue my story. “Anyhow, he starts lying to me, yet I can’t stop thinking to myself that he’s the one, that I love him more than anything, and I’d die without him.” Hotch tore one of his hands off the wheel so that he could run his thumb over the inside of my left ankle. “And I know that I love him the way he is— even when he thinks that lying to me is the right thing to do.” Hotch squeezed my calf lightly to warn me away from accusing him of lying again. “I wanted to tell him, ‘You don't have to always be there; you don't have to change your habits… Just love me. You don't have to put the seat down; you don't have to eat avocado toast; you don't have to change a thing— Just stay with me.’ So, I try to tell him, ‘I want you— nothing but you.’ Because you take me in your arms, and suddenly everything in my life makes sense. For a moment, I forget just how dark and cold the world can get. It feels like my life led right to your side and will keep me there from now on.” I leaned forward again, pressing my palm against his cheek. He continued to watch the road, though I knew he was desperate to look at me, too. “Now I wanna hold you close— I don't ever wanna have to let you go. I don't wanna go back to the lonely life. Can we do that?”

Hotch moved to kiss my palm. “Of course.”

“Listen, when we get to my house, take a look at that town, take a look at how far I've come. I will never go back, never look back anymore. Everything bad that happened in my life stems from that place. I was missing what was perfect in my life—you and our family—but now I have you, and I never, ever want to let that go. Does that make sense?”

Hotch shrugged.

I brushed his hair back out of his face. I needed him to understand exactly what I meant, so I had to put it into terms that he could understand. “Just think about what you wanted. Think about what could be. Think about how I love you. Think of what's great about me and you. Think of the bullshit we've both been through. Think about how we’ve come so far together, and how we’ve overcome every single obstacle, no matter how tough they seemed at times. That’s not by chance, Aaron.” I gently curled my fingers around a fistful of his hair. “That’s effort that my parents never put in. That’s learning from our experiences—learning from where we came from and choosing to be better. Going back to my hometown and seeing my old life is like taking steps back on Candyland—” He chuckled at my simile. “I’m serious!” He shook off his laugh as we turned into my neighborhood and he started looking at the house numbers to figure out which one was mine. “You can’t let me stay here,” I said once I saw it at the end of the cul-de-sac. “Please, Aaron.”

“You’re being a little overdramatic, baby girl.”

“Just wait.”

I knew that once he would spend the evening with my parents, learning about my past and how spoiled and annoying I was as a kid, he would understand what I meant. I never thought in a million years I would be back there. I never thought that my parents would somehow manage to convince me to come back. Yet, as Hotch pulled into the driveway, I realized just how fucked this was.

“Mom! Dad!”

I looked over my shoulder and out my window to see Jack and Scarlet running out of the house, speeding onto the front lawn, and dashing towards our car. I smiled lightly. At least I had them. My little man and my lil’ bug. They made this trip worth it, and the upcoming dinner was going to be unbearable, but I could just hold Scarlet in my arms if I ever got upset or bored, and I would feel at home again.

Did Hotch realize how grateful I was? I mean, to be honest, I did most of the work, but the beginning was a team effort… if you catch my drift. I was so thankful that he gave me my lil’ bug Scarlet, and that he looked after us shortly after she was born, and that he was so hands on with her. I mean, he was close with Jack. He dedicated everything to his son when he was born, and even more so after Haley’s death; but Hotch was vastly different with Scarlet. With Jack, there was a level of protection that he had because of Foyet; because he didn’t want Jack to experience anything traumatic ever again. On the other hand, Scarlet hadn’t been through anything yet, and Hotch was working tirelessly to make sure it stayed that way. I would say that Scarlet was a daddy’s girl, too, which only encouraged Hotch to coddle her. I didn’t care anymore. It used to irk me that he was too overbearing with her, but since our lives had continued to turn upside down because of work, I actually appreciated Hotch’s caution with our daughter. Jack had been hurt once before, and between Hotch and I, we had been hurt over a hundred times—if I were being generous. At the very least, as her parents, we could protect Scarlet from ever enduring what the three of us had.

I swung my feet off of Hotch’s thighs so that we could both get out of the car. As I opened my door, Jack immediately jumped up, his arms sprawled so that I could catch him. I laughed as I barely made it on time. “Oh, boy!” I groaned while standing and hugging him tightly.

He was too big now to lift, and it pissed me off, but what was I supposed to do? Hurt my back more just to try to pick him up? No… As much as I missed holding him on my hip and hugging him so tight that neither of us could breathe, trying to lift him now would have been futile and simply hurtful for the two of us.

“Daddy!” Scarlet cheered as she jumped into Hotch’s arms. Like I said, daddy’s girl.

He kissed her cheeks over and over again until she pushed him away because it tickled too much. “How was your day, Ms. Scarlet?”

She poked at his cheekbones. “Good. Grandpa and Grandma played soccer with us.”

“Did you win?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s not true!” Jack argued. “I won!”

I kissed his hair. “I’m sure you did, little man.”

“How was the drive?” Dad asked as he and Mom came to meet us outside, too. Hotch and I turned to face them. We told them that it was long, but nice. “Did ya work up an appetite?”

“Dad—”

“You know it,” Hotch answered over me, sending me a quick glance that begged that I would be polite.

“Good. Good.” Dad patted Hotch on the back before ushering us inside. “Celia’s been cooking up a storm all day. Hope you like steak.”

“Nothing sounds better.”

----

Dinner was ready almost immediately. The family gathered in the dining room, the kids at the end so that they could draw in a coloring book that Scarlet brought with her while the adults talked on the other end. Hotch and I sat side by side, my parents across from us. This was the first time we had a chance to talk with my parents since the wedding nearly three years ago. Not that the distance was on purpose. It was just that we never had the chance to sit down like this ever. The first time they met Hotch was practically just after he proposed, but then we were called away to work. It happened like that every time. Our jobs called us out to different states all the time, my mom’s job called her out to different countries, and my dad’s job required him to be at the Academy practically 24/7. It was a miracle that we could get all four of us in the same room for Hotch’s birthday.

Not that I necessarily saw it as a miracle. Considering we had never done this before, like I said, so therefore, Hotch never really got to know them, and vice versa. What were we supposed to do if they ended up hating them? I knew I was bitching about this all day, but that was only because I was nervous. If this went awry, I wouldn’t be able to choose between my parents and my husband. I knew what my decision would be, but that was heartbreaking to even consider.

Hotch put a hand on my knee to stop it from bouncing anxiously. My attention snapped to him to see that he was sending me a look that asked if I was alright or if I needed a break. I sent him a look that said I was alright. I was just thinking… Again…

Dad cut through his slice of birthday cake that Mom made for after dinner while talking with Hotch about Cody, the Director of the FBI. For dinner, my mom made steak—which was edible—and mashed potatoes and green beans, which were there. She tried her best. Dessert was probably the best part. Hotch didn’t exactly like anything “unhealthy” since he liked to stay so fit for the field; but I made him try some of the cake on my plate, and once he did, he was convinced into having a slice of his own.

“Have you been in contact with anyone from your high school?” Mom asked me. “I heard there was some kind of class reunion a month or so ago.”

I chuckled behind my cup. “Who would I be in contact with?” I took a sip.

“I don’t know… Oh— What about Steven Teller?”

I nearly spat my drink out. “What—”

“You know! Steven!” Mom hit Dad’s shoulder, “Where did he end up going for college?”

Dad started thinking. “Hmm… Wasn’t it… Tulane?” He snapped in eureka. “Yes! That was it! Tulane. His dad told me after he graduated that he got a job working for some prestigious law firm.” My dad pointed at me, “You must have a thing for lawyers.”

Hotch leaned to the side, pulling me towards him somewhat. “Steven Teller? Isn’t that—”

I stopped him with a glare. When he fell silent, we both sat back up straight in our seats. I looked at my parents. “No, I haven’t talked to Steven. I haven’t talked to anyone. And, honestly, I don’t want to.”

“What about Tess—"

I cleared my throat. “It’s getting kind of late,” I said, checking my watch. “I want to show Aaron around before we leave. You know, brag about some old memories and stuff.”

My parents took note of the change in tone in my voice, and the way the room suddenly grew uncomfortable. They recognized that they touched some kind of nerve. They fucked up, though they weren’t sure how, and they weren’t going to pry or stop me from talking to Hotch about it all privately—which was clearly what I wanted to do. So, they let us go.

I grabbed Hotch’s hand and started pulling him towards the stairs. He hurried after me, trying to keep up with how fast I was leading him along, and even trying to tug back on me to get me to slow down, but I didn’t. We skipped up the steps and hurried down to the last room on the left. My bedroom. It hadn’t been touched or bothered since high school. It was so weird. It was like some kind of time capsule that should’ve been burned down years ago. This wasn’t who I was anymore. I had grown up so much since leaving home. Like I told Hotch, I left this place and I never looked back, and I was fine with how my life turned out. I just didn’t think my parents would keep mine and Elle’s rooms untouched like this— like they were shrines of a better past or something.

“Steven Teller. I know that name,” Hotch said, closing the door behind me. “It’s been churning in my head for six years, Y/N. How do your parents not know?”

“I’ve told you before, I didn’t tell anyone. And I’ve also told you before that I would’ve never told you or Elle if the Fisher King hadn’t let the cat out of the bag. He took pictures of it, Aaron, and then he used them to black mail me. How could I tell people that? I got those pictures back, I hid them away, and I left this place for as long as I could.”

Hotch stepped closer to me. He put his hands on my biceps and sighed. “I’d kill him if I could.”

George Foyet and the Hawai’i gang had seen up close and person how far Hotch was willing to go to get revenge on those who hurt his family. If Steven Teller were there in front of us, I had no doubts in my mind that Hotch would’ve been willing to get locked up just for the sake of putting him six feet underground.

“Remember, I told you to take a look at how far I’ve come. I told you to remember that this isn’t who I am anymore— that none of this matters to me now. What matters is being in your arms. Being with you helps me forget.” I reached up to hold his face in my hands. “It was so long ago. Aaron, I need you to believe me when I tell you that it doesn’t matter. I mean— I— It does matter… But I don’t let it define me. I don’t let it distract me from what makes me happy. You, Jack, and Scarlet make me happy. That’s all that matters. I don’t care about him. I don’t think about him. Every bad memory I have of him has been forgotten and replaced by my happy memories of you.”

Hotch wrapped his arms around my waist and he lifted me up slightly so that my toes were barely tangling over the carpet, but my face was even with his. He kissed me. After a moment, he set me back down on my feet and he let go of me.

“So, what was Y/N Greenaway into when they were in high school?” His change of topic caught me off guard, but I appreciated it. He knew that I didn’t want to talk about this because, to me, it didn’t fucking matter. And if it didn’t matter to me, it didn’t matter to him. What mattered was that I promised to show him around. He was in my old bedroom, and he wanted to finally get to know everything I never told him. “You have any fun stories to tell me about all of this?” he teased while spinning around to get a look at everything around him. He stopped when he noticed my box of vinyls. “If there isn’t a single good record in here, I’m leaving.”

I snickered. “Well, your definition of good music is definitely older than mine.”

He grinned at me while running a finger over the titles. “Are you calling me old right now?”

“Mhm.”

“I’m only one year older now, not ten.”

“Still old.”

He picked out one of the records. “Brat.” He admired the cover of A Night at the Opera by Queen. “So, this is where your love for Queen began. Who’s old now?”

“That record’s older than me.”

“So, you like old things, then. Who would’ve known?” he questioned sarcastically. I rolled my eyes and sat down on the bed. “Oh,” Hotch smiled to himself, “look what we have here.”

I watched as he reached for something at the bottom of my bookshelf. I cocked a brow, figuring that he was just grabbing an old kiddie book that we could take home for Scarlet, but what I saw in his hands when he turned around absolutely mortified me. “No—” I insisted quickly, pushing myself to my knees on the mattress. “Aaron Hotchner, you put that back!”

Hotch’s wicked smile brightened as he meandered over to the bed, flipping the book open to the front page. “I always wondered when I’d get the chance to see this.”

“Aaron—” I reached out, trying to swipe the book from him, but he caught my wrist and held me steady. “I swear—”

“Behave yourself,” he narrowed his eyes, still smiling, though. He released my hand, allowing me to sit back down obediently. As he turned to the next page, he sat down next to me so that I could watch what he was doing. “Do you remember how we went through my old yearbook the night you first told me you love me?” I was going to kill him, I swear. He had to know that I would do it, and I knew how to get away with it. “And you told me that I would never, ever get to see your yearbooks.” With that snide, calculated comment that was supposed to tease me, I tried to grab the book from him again, though I knew I shouldn’t have. “Look at you, you were adorable!” I tried again. “If you don’t stop that, I will tie you to the headboard.”

“I wasn’t adorable,” I told him as I gave up trying to take the yearbook away from him. “I was nerdy and dorky. Elle was always the cool one. She knew how to play the system so that she could be popular, meanwhile, I was just focused on getting to the Academy.”

“Sounds like a fun childhood,” he teased with sarcasm hiding behind his words.

“Hey!” I punched his arm lightly. “I had fun!”

“Mhm,” he nodded sarcastically. “Was that between studying and playing D&D, or was that after you volunteered at the senior center?” He pointed to all the different pictures of me on the community service pages. 

“I’ll have you know,” I grinned, recalling a memory that would definitely get under his skin, “that it happened after the homecoming game junior year.”

He looked up at me with wide, shocked, yet still angry eyes, just as I predicted. “Please tell me it wasn’t in his car, at least.”

“Her bedroom,” I corrected. “She lived just a block away from the school, so we snuck out of the game and walked to her place. Elle never even knew I was gone.”

Hotch’s eyes dilated slightly as his mind raced with every possibility of what happened that night. “And what about your room?” he asked while looking around in order to avoid eye contact with me so that he was harder to profile.

“Her birthday the following week,” I answered, now using the same kind of smirk that he had plastered to his face only moments ago. He thought that he could get to me by looking through the yearbook and stirring up old memories, but what he failed to recognize was that I would do anything to get the upper hand on this situation again.

Hotch cleared his throat as he turned another page of the yearbook. “Oh, look!” He was trying to change the subject again, despite how obvious it was that he was thinking about what happened on that bed in high school. “It’s a picture of you and Elle.” He turned the book slightly towards me again, but I didn’t look down at it.

I leaned against him, shifting around on my knees as I got closer. When my hand brushed against his pants, Hotch cleared his throat again and nearly slammed the book shut, yet he still managed to somehow hold together his composure. “You know,” I whispered into his ear, “birthday sex is a lot of fun.”

“Was this your move in high school?” he asked me with a raspy, breathless tone.

I knew I got him, now it was just a matter of breaking him. “No.” I shook my head. “This was.” I grabbed the book, knowing that he wasn’t paying attention to it anymore, and I threw it to the floor. His hands were desperate to hold onto something now, so they immediately found my hips as I straddled him. “And then it went a little something like this…” I whispered in his ear as I started slowly unbuttoning his shirt.

“Your parents are downstairs,” he whispered back.

“Just like high school.” I smiled.

He laughed as he leaned in to kiss me. “You would have been bad news for me back in high school, Y/N.”

“I’m still bad news for you.” I finally got his shirt open and I quickly pushed it off his arms. His arms snaked around my waist once they were free of his blue silk shirt. “You remember Valentine’s?” He nodded before pulling me in for another kiss. I pushed him away. “Round two?”

He shook his head. “I just want you. Please.”

“Whatever the birthday boy wants…”

Hotch moaned as I lowered my hips, grinding my panties against his trousers. When he was least expecting it, I parted from our endless kisses and pushed a hand to his chest with enough force to give him the idea that he should lay back on the width of the bed. Hotch listened, his arms falling from hugging me to grabbing my hips as he laid back calmly. He stared up at me with his brown eyes dilated that were turning pure black with lust. He licked his lips, trying to forget about how nice it was to kiss me and how he wanted to do it again.

I used my hand on his chest to balance myself as I dragged my hips up towards his chest slowly, feeling the outline of his erection passing over my covered slit. As I pushed myself back down, I felt his tip hit my clit, both of us letting out an unexpected moan in response.

When I realized what happened, I put my other hand over his mouth. “You have to be quiet,” I whispered, moving my hips forwards and backwards against him. He groaned against my hand, the vibrations of his pleasure running through my hand before coursing through the rest of my body.

“Fuck me,” he begged against my hand.

I sat up entirely, moving down his thighs somewhat so that I could fidget with his pants. He groaned quietly every time my fingers accidentally passed over his throbbing length as I struggled to get his pants off as fast as possible. I wanted him just as badly as he wanted me, and there was only so much time we had before my parents or Jack would come looking for us. All I knew was that I wanted to fuck him and call him mine for his birthday.

We worked together to discard the rest of our clothes. While I fidgeted with his pants, his hands crumbled up the skirt of my dress, and he made a move to lift it over my head, but while he was still laying under me, he couldn’t make the aggressive move he wanted. So, he had to wait. I pulled his belt out of all of the loops, then tossed it to the side. Without hesitation, I undid his pants, my palms brushing over his erection so often he was moaning and bucking. I lifted my hips so that I could push down his pants and underwear to his ankles, and when I sat back down, I made sure that I was right over his erection.

“Baby, please. Your dress.” He tugged at the skirt of it lightly. I nodded, raising my arms over my head. He whimpered a “thank you” and sat up slightly so that he could pull my dress off my body entirely, and afterwards, he unclasped my bra with expertise. “So precious, baby girl…” he exhaled through his nose lightly before kissing my bra strap. As my fingers tangled themselves in his hair and pulled, Hotch’s cold fingers slowly started pushing my bra straps off my shoulders. The more my bra fell, the more he kissed my bare body, making his way down to my nipples. “I love you,” he whispered to me as my bra fell to the floor and he wrapped his lips around my left nipple.

I moaned, throwing my head back. “I love you, too.”

He released my left nipple and slowly went to suck on the other one, making my stomach twist in pleasure. While he was preoccupied and I was desperate for him, I reached between us so that I could take his length in my hand. He hissed quietly. When I bucked my hips up slightly, running my clothed slit up every inch of him, I felt him twitch in my hand with excitement. He wanted me, of course. I wanted him, too, but this was all about pleasing him. I was going to take my time making sure that he was served and happy.

Hotch nibbled on my nipple gently when I ran my thumb over his tip. I heard him whimper a few quiet times. So, I did it again. He released my nipple so that he could moan into my chest. I smirked and did it again.

“Baby, please—” he gasped breathlessly. “Just fuck me. Please.”

“You wanna cum for me?” I asked him before kissing his hair.

He nodded. “Yes. Please. Fuck—”

As I lifted my hips, Hotch reached between us to push my panties to the side. “Do you want to cum in me?” I teased his tip at my entrance.

“Baby girl, I want to fill you so bad…” He tried pushing my hips down, but I held steady. “You—” He gasped against my shoulder as I rolled my hips slightly. “You promised— For my—For my birthday—”

“I know, baby,” I whispered. “I know.” I just loved hearing his pleas and whimpers too much to not pry them out of him. But now that he had given himself to me and his whimpers blessed my ears, I could finally give in for him. “I’m sorry.” I started lowering myself onto every inch of him. We both let out quiet moans that filled the room. Hotch wrapped his arms around my entire body, pressing my chest against his. “I love you.”

“I love you—” He groaned and threw his head back as I settled at the base of his cock. “You treat me so well, baby girl. Thank you.”

“Shhh…” I cooed. “Fuck…”

As I started rolling my hips around him and slowly moving up and down his length, I felt myself get more worked up, encouraging me to only go faster and harder. We held each other close as I did so. He was so hard, every inch of him was throbbing inside of me, hitting exactly where I needed him most. But then there was the added stimulation of my clit grinding on his pubic bone. It made me melt.

“I fucking love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too.”

Slowly, but surely, my back started to tense up. The muscle that had been injured the worst during the bank explosion over a year ago was starting to act up again, which wasn’t unusual in these cases. For the most part, I was healed since then, to the point that I could participate in cases in the field without issue, and Hotch and I could have intense scenes with only minimal aches. But from time to time, I would feel it to the point that it felt like my back was screaming at me: “Please, do anything else but this!” So, I gave in. I listened to the way my body was angry at me, and I tried to shift around somewhat to calm down, but it wasn’t working.

“You okay?” Hotch asked after noticing how my pace had slowed.

I nodded slightly before cringing again. “My back…” I finally admitted. This was the worst fucking time for it to hurt. “I’m sorry, baby.”

He shook his head and sat up. “Don’t be.” He hugged me and stood, giving me time to wrap my legs around his waist. We moaned into each other’s mouths in response to the way he moved inside of me. He turned around and started carefully laying me on the bed with him still buried inside me.

“That’s a talent,” I mumbled against his lips. He chuckled. “I like being under you better, anyhow.”

Hotch leaned up to stop me from continuing my endless string of kisses. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

I nodded and bucked my hips up to encourage him. Hotch caught the hint, so he planted his feet on the ground and slowly started pulling his length out of me. When his tip was all I had inside of me, we kissed, then he thrust into me with a little more power. I moaned loudly. Hotch quickly put his hand over my mouth to keep me quiet. I pressed a kiss against his palm to let him know that I understood that I had to be quiet, but he didn’t release me because now he was on top, and my mild bratty attitude hadn’t gone unnoticed by him. He was in Dom space now. I could see it in his eyes. Melting in with the lust and love that filled his dark eyes was a red tint that screamed: “You’re mine.” And I loved it. I loved it and I let that tint put me in my place.

He snapped his hips back and forth again a few more times. With every thrust that passed, he increased his speed and power to the point that I was a moaning mess under his hand. Everything was so muffled, but he understood that I would’ve been screaming for him if I could. I loved him. I loved how he fit in me perfectly—that it didn’t matter that we had been together nearly six years because I was still so tight for him and only him. I was his. He was mine. We were us, and that was what mattered. Being back at home, reliving a few bad memories, talking about some people I would’ve rather forget about, none of that mattered while he was towering over me.

He leaned in close and let out a shuddered breath in my ear because he was close to moaning loudly, too. “I’m gonna cum,” he warned. I nodded against his hand, letting him know that I was close, too. “Fuck…” He started attacking my neck with his lips, leaving a mild hickey that hopefully wouldn’t start forming until we were gone. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—” There was his tell. “Y/N—” Before he could say anything else, my walls tightened around him as I tipped over the edge, encouraging him to cum, too. “Fuck!” he hissed against my skin.

“Sir,” I moaned against his hand. I bucked my hips to make sure both of us worked out our entire orgasms before slowing down and giving up. “Shit…” I slumped back, my body going limp.

He slowly pulled out of me and removed his hand from my mouth. “You okay?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Your back?”

“I’m okay, baby, I promise.” I patted his chest. “Happy birthday, my love.”

“Thank you.” He sat up by pushing his hands on my hips, then he let go of me so that he could pull his pants up. “I don’t think we can use a towel…” he joked.

I rolled my eyes at him. “Ha. Ha.”

“Where the fuck did you throw my shirt?” he questioned while spinning in a circle to try and spot it. I giggled and reached over my head to retrieve it from the floor. I threw it at his face. “Brat,” he hissed after catching it. I smirked.

Hotch held his hand out for me, and when I took it, he carefully helped me up, keeping his eye on me to make sure that I wouldn’t break. I was still a bit sore, but it was manageable. I figured that since he was right about the towel thing, I’d have to make my way to the bathroom down the hall, and I would just grab a Motrin or something there, too.

After Hotch slid his arms back through his dark dress shirt, he moved to start buttoning it up, but I beat him to it by shooing his hands away and grabbing ahold of the hem of his shirt. As I reached the top button, my pinkie passed over the purple mark I made on his neck that was getting more and more obvious as the seconds flew by. I blushed and looked away. Hotch chuckled and lifted my chin by trapping it between his thumb and his curled index finger. My gaze met his again.

“Are you shy, baby?”

I nodded. He grinned and gripped my jaw hard. I gulped before biting my lip and feeling the way my legs gave out somewhat.

“Why, though? Weren’t you the one to mark Sir?”

I whimpered. “Yes, Sir.”

He brought me close to his lips, then lingered for a second, as if he were daring me to act out by kissing him quickly, but I obeyed by waiting. Maybe five years ago I would have given in, but now… with my parents and the kids downstairs… There wasn’t really any time, and our priorities were different. So, I waited for him to kiss me first. He smirked at my compliance, then slowly leaned in to press his lips against mine, barely even touching me at all before he pulled away.

“We should head home,” he whispered.

I whimpered. “I hate you…”

He grabbed my jaw harder. “Go clean yourself up.” He kissed me again, this time a little more passionately, then he turned to walk out and start wrangling the kids downstairs.

I let out a shaky breath as the room fell silent again. That was certainly one way to celebrate…

Once I cleaned myself up in the bathroom, downed a pain killer, then got dressed, I headed downstairs to see Hotch holding a passed out Scarlet in his arms. She was resting her chin on his shoulder while sucking on her thumb—a habit I thought we kicked about six months ago. Jack, on the other hand, was sitting on the floor in the living room while playing with Red and some of his other favorite toys. As I passed him, I kissed the top of his head. I asked if he was ready to go yet, and he nodded. I could tell that he was getting tired, and I knew that by the time we had him and Scar loaded up in the car, the two of them would be dead asleep for the whole drive home.

“Alright,” I began wrapping up the conversation Hotch was having with my parents, “I think it’s time to get them home.” Hotch agreed shortly before my parents gave in. “Thank you, guys, for looking after them today.”

“They were perfect,” my dad said.

“We’d love to have them back soon,” my mom added.

Please, no, I thought to myself, even though I was smiling and conceding. Hotch stood with Scarlet in his arms, and I kissed her temple while petting her hair. It was a miracle she lasted this long. I honestly thought that she was either going to pass out before dessert, or that dessert was going to give her a sugar high that would keep her up for the rest of the night. However, I had not anticipated that she would eat dessert and still be exhausted. I guess we got lucky.

“Oh, wait, I almost forgot!” Mom jumped to her feet and ran to the kitchen to grab something. I prayed that it wasn’t leftovers. When she returned, she was holding a wrapped gift in her hands. “Ken and I got this for you, Aaron.” She held it out for him.

Since his hands were full, he couldn’t necessarily accept it, so I offered to take Scarlet from him carefully to make sure that she wouldn’t wake up. When his hands were free, he took the gift. I watched as he eyed me for a second before starting to unwrap it.

“You guys didn’t have to do this,” he insisted politely. My mom and dad shook their heads like it was no big deal. As the wrapping fell apart, he found a black leather box in his hands. He found the zipper on the side and pulled it open. Hotch chuckled to himself. “You guys seriously didn’t have to do this.”

I peeked over his shoulder to see what it was that they got for him. It was a fancy travel-size shaving kit. It had an electric shaver, with the charging chord, it had a handheld shaver in case there was no plug-in sight, it had a full tube of shaving cream, moisturizer, aftershave, and so on. It was completely unnecessary. Like, ostentatious for no fucking reason. I almost wanted to chuckle, but it would’ve been rude, so I bit my lip and held back the urge.

“We know what it’s like to have to travel all the time for your job, so we just wanted to make sure you had a way to make sure that beard of yours never grows back,” my dad joked.

I finally let out a chuckle. “I miss the beard.”

“I don’t,” Hotch said, smiling. “Thank you both,” he said to them while zipping up the kit. “It means a lot.”

“Can we go home now?” Jack questioned, slowly stumbling into the room, rubbing his eyes with his fists.

“Yeah, buddy. You wanna say goodnight to Grandma and Grandpa?”

Jack shuffled another few steps towards my parents, and he hugged their hips lightly. After they hugged him back, he meandered towards his dad who kneeled down to let Jack crawl onto his back to carry him the same way JJ liked to carry Henry. Jack slumped against Hotch. He flung his arms around his dad’s neck and trapped his legs around his waist. When he was steady, Hotch stood up straight.

“Seriously, thank you both for tonight. We had a lovely time,” Hotch said to my parents.

“We’ll call you guys in a couple of days to see if you want to do this again,” I offered. Scarlet started fussing in my arms. “Okay, okay, we’re going.” Hotch and I slowly started making our way to the front door. Dad skipped around us so that he could hold the door open for us since we were a little pre-occupied. “I love you,” I said while passing him and kissing his cheek. He kissed mine, too.

“Drive safe,” he begged.

“We will.”

Hotch headed down the front steps, then turned to make sure I could navigate them safely while not being able to see around Scarlet. When I made it down, we walked side by side to the car. Since Scarlet was certainly smaller than Jack, I was able to balance her in one arm long enough to open the backseat to put her down and buckle her in quietly, then run around to the other side to help Hotch get Jack in since he passed out on our way to the car, too. When they were settled, I chuckled. They were still so young and innocent. I almost envied their ability to fall asleep so quickly and in such uncomfortable positions.

Hotch sighed and snaked his arms around my waist. “I love you.”

I rested my head back on his shoulder. “I love you, too.” I slowly spun around. “Happy birthday, baby.”

He kissed me. “Probably my best birthday yet.”

“Suck up.”

“I try.” He kissed me again until we both melted and smiled against each other’s lips.

-----

criminal minds family: @peggy1999​ @gorgeousdarkangel​ @alex--awesome--22​ @oceaneblu​​ @brithedemonspawn​​ @absolutemarveltrash​​ @bshelley322​​ @rousethemouse​ @sunshinepower17​ @weexinling​​ @pettttyyyc​​ @Braty-angel  @braxdix

[hotchley]

“sometimes you do everything right, everything exactly right, and still you feel like you failed”

morehotchcontent day two: whump (in a hostage situation/hurt on the job)

tagged: @ablogofthecriminalmindsvariety

why should the team look for him? he was nothing. he would die for them, because they were his team and they deserved the world. but he was not the world. he was just one broken, old man and they could do better. they could do so, so much better than a drill sergeant, sexist, narcissistic bully.

an unsub kidnaps hotch. in his mind, he isn’t worth saving.

warnings: torture (choking, forced to choke on water, caning, punching, stabbing), depictions of violence, implied/referenced child abuse, non-consensual removal of clothing, references to the events of george foyet, references to tobias hankel and reid's torture, references to ian doyle and what he did to emily

read on ao3!

Hotch had taken one look at the case-file and immediately known it was going to be a bad case. The victims had all been kidnapped and tortured, before being dumped in the local park, stripped down to their underwear as a form of humiliation. A word- always a personality trait- had been carved into their back.

For the BAU, it was pretty standard.

For Hotch, it was like looking at a mirror. All the victims fit the same criteria, which on the one hand he was grateful for because maybe it would mean they would find the damn unsub without any more bodies appearing, but on the other hand made him want to be sick.

The victims had all been the leaders of their respective teams. The first was the manager of a supermarket, the second a senior partner in a law firm, the third a headteacher. He had no idea what the fourth was. He’d read it, but without ever really processing the words.

But their subordinates hated them. Deemed them bullies, narcissists, dickheads, evil bastards. When they’d been informed of the deaths, not a single one had cried. One had laughed. They had all been relieved enough to be considered suspects.

He looked out at the bullpen. JJ was sat with them, sat on the edge of Reid’s desk as she laughed at something Emily- Agent Prentiss, he corrected mentally- was saying. The case had come directly to him, the file lying on his desk as though it was mocking him because the previous day he’d told the team it was likely they’d be spending the weekend at home.

Morgan was watching the scene unfold with a wide smile, yet his eyes darted round the area, always watching over the other members of his team like it was his duty. Not for the first time, Hotch wondered if he should have stepped down permanently. Morgan had done well as Unit Chief. And he wasn’t hated by the team. They didn’t look at Morgan and think of a boring, misogynistic, horrid narcissist. They looked at Morgan and thought of a protector.

He sighed. Part of him wanted to ask Rossi to inform the team they had a case but that was just being unfair. It was his stupid comment about getting to spend time at home that had undoubtedly landed them in this situation. The least he could do was own it. At the last moment, he decided to read through the casefile one more time. It would give JJ enough time to finish showing them the pictures of Henry at the beach.

When JJ tucked her phone back into her pocket, he stood up. Took a deep breath and exited. Almost immediately, the laughter stopped and they all turned back to their reports. JJ slid off the table and started to head back to her office. Hotch tried to disguise his hurt as indifference and he knew he’d succeeded when Reid swallowed and Morgan looked disappointed.

It had been five years since Tobias Hankel, and yet nothing had changed. The team still hated him. Cases still ruined their everyday life.

“We have a case. Roundtable in ten,” he said. The rest of the words wouldn’t come. Because if he said more than the bare minimum, he would reveal too much and they would hate him even more than they already did. It was bad enough that he was everything they’d called him, but it would be even worse if they realised just how weak he was.

He went back up to his office to pack things away and send a quick text to Jess and Jack, before he realised that they’d benefit from having Garcia with him. He had always wondered what Garcia really thought of him, but he’d always been too afraid to ask. A part of him liked to think she liked him, but that was impossible.

JJ thought he was a bully, and when he thought of the number of times he’d snapped at Garcia for not being fast enough, he understood. Morgan considered him a drill sergeant, said they weren’t friends, and he was always breaking up their fun, teasing comments. It didn’t matter he was doing it for professionality, that was one of their only reprieves and he was constantly taking it from them. Prentiss accused him of not trusting women as much as men, and there had definitely been times when he’d looked at Garcia and felt the urge to ask where she’d got the information from. Reid told Hankel he deserved to die because he was a narcissist. How many times had he asked Garcia to look at the worst of humanity, knowing she was too good for that?

Garcia never told him what his worst quality was. He’d heard enough by the time it would’ve got to her. Jason had opened his mouth, probably to tell him to stop, but he’d had enough. He wished he hadn’t stopped him. Maybe if he’d known, he could’ve changed and then Gideon would still be with them and Reid would have someone who was actually competent as a father figure.

It was with a heavy heart that he took the elevator down to Garcia’s lair. As he’d passed through the bullpen, he saw the haggard faces of his team, and he wondered, not for the first time, how many more crime scenes they could suffer through before their hands stopped going cold and they lost their humanity.

He knocked on the door, once, slightly hesitant.

“You don’t need to knock Kevin!” Garcia called out.

Hotch swallowed the lump in his throat. Yet another relationship he was ruining. He coughed once before saying it was actually him.

Almost immediately Garcia flung the door open. “Sir! I didn’t realise it was you. What is it?”

“We have a case. And, well, I’d like you to come with us. It’ll be easier,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Of course! Just give me sixteen minutes to pack my stuff and then I’ll be up, okay?”

He nodded, then the Southern manners kicked in. “Would you like any help?” he asked, slightly hopeful that she’d say yes.

“Oh no, of course not. It’s much simpler if I just do it myself. I know where everything goes and it’s just easier.”

“Right. I’ll err, I’ll see you in a bit then,” he said, trying to not take it personally. Garcia probably wouldn’t let anyone touch her computers or equipment. It wasn’t just him. It couldn’t be. He wasn’t sure he’d survive it. He was about to exit when she called out his name and he turned.

“Yes?”

“Are you okay? You’ve seemed distant recently. And normally I wouldn’t comment, but I’m worried about you. You know you can talk to us? Any of us. I know the others weren’t particularly fond of Haley, but you didn’t have to be a profiler to realise you loved her.”

He started fidgeting, stuffing his hand in his pocket as he brushed his thumb over his fingers.

If Garcia noticed his discomfort, she didn’t comment. “It doesn’t matter that you got a divorce, you still loved each other. Recovering from that is hard. Add in the fact that you’re going back to the same job, and it’s a recipe for disaster. What I’m trying to say is: are you okay, and do you want to talk about it?”

He wanted to say yes. He so desperately wanted to hug Garcia, fall apart in her arms and confess all his fears to her. He wanted to tell her how ever since Hankel, he’d hardly been able to look at the team, or how the list of people he’d failed to save- Elle, Jason, Kate Joyner, countless innocent victims, Megan Kane, Haley- seemed to be growing with every breath. He longed to finally tell someone who horrifying it was when Foyet was in his apartment, how he could hardly look in the mirror without gagging, how he had blinked because he was human. He wanted to say that there were nights where he couldn’t comfort Jack because how dare he touch his son with the same hands that had killed a man?

But he couldn’t. The only value he held as a member of the team was being stoic. Unshaken. The one that dealt with the politics, played bad cop, spoke to Strauss and the higher-ups, dealt with unruly lead detectives without flinching. If any of them knew just how choked up he got every time Strauss asked to see a report, how every case that involved him playing the role ended with him sat in the shower, water numbing his body as tears rolled down his cheeks, they’d cast him out.

And he would have nothing.

“I’m fine,” he lied. “Just a little tired. Jack was keeping me up. He’s excited about starting school soon.”

Jack had kept him up, but not because he was excited about starting school. Because he was scared he was going to come home and daddy wouldn’t be there.

“Wow. I remember when he was just a little baby coming in to visit. Back when the Reid effect was still a thing.”

Hotch faked a laugh, ignoring the bile that was rising in his throat. He didn’t want to think about that. How the team had done nothing more than be polite, all stood a respectful distance away, as though he was poison. Or how just minutes after he said goodbye to Jack and Haley- who was still happy and in love- they were called out on a family annihilator case.

“Yeah. The time has gone by so fast. I’ll let you pack up,” he said, needing to get away from the lights and brightness.

“Oh, of course. I’m so sorry,” Garcia said, as though she had only just remembered why he’d come down.

“You have nothing to apologise for Penelope,” he said, before closing the door behind him.

Forty minutes later and they were in the air.

JJ was on the phone to the local P.D, convincing them that releasing any sort of information to the public, especially the name of a suspect, would not be beneficial to the investigation. Hotch wanted to intervene because it wasn’t fair that she had to be fielding their phone calls when she should be resting, but he didn’t want to overstep so he settled for keeping one eye on her and the other on the casefiles.

When they landed, JJ said that the local PD had wanted them all to head straight to the precinct, so they piled into the government SUVs. Hotch tried to not let it sting when Morgan sighed before getting into the passenger seat. Once upon a time, he would’ve said they were friends. But now he knew better. Morgan had only wanted him around because he could lead the team. But after Foyet, he’d proven that he couldn’t even do that, and that Morgan was clearly the better leader.

Why he was still on the team was a mystery to him.

“Miss Jareau, hello. I’m Sheriff Finkelstein, we spoke on the phone?” the sheriff greeted.

“It’s Agent Jareau, Detective,” Hotch corrected, voice betrayed his tiredness.

JJ looked over in surprise. She could have sworn she saw him drift off.

Hotch wouldn’t meet her eyes. He corrected people when they called Dr Reid agent. Of course he would do the same for the rest of them, regardless of what their opinions on him were.

“Of course, my apologies, Agent Jareau. We’re very grateful to have you here, we’re completely in over our heads. Our lead detective just took early retirement as his wife had a baby and he wants to be at home with the two of them- an admirable decision- but it just means that we’re now overwhelmed and still looking for a new lead,” Finklestein explained, leading them to one of the conference rooms. He held the door open for the ladies, who all gave him small smiles.

Hotch tried to nod. Yet another person who’d managed to do the one thing he had failed at. If he had taken the transfer, or left when Jack was born, then Haley would still be alive. There would be a tan line on his ring finger from where his wedding ring sat.

“Do you have any clues who it could be? It’s a very specific MO and victimology, which should help us narrow things down,” Morgan asked, always eager to get straight into things.

Sheriff Finkelstein sighed. “Unfortunately not. There’s no DNA anywhere. All of the team members have been questioned, and although they all hated their respective bosses, there’s no indication that any of them would’ve done it.”

“We’d like to see the recordings of their interviews,” Rossi said.

“And if I could have a map of the area to start creating the geographical profile, that’d be great,” Reid added.

“Whatever you need,” Finkelstein said, leaving.

Hotch left with him to gather some of the extra information they needed. The team- bar Morgan and Rossi, who had left to go to M.E’s office, were skimming through the files created on each of the members and their victims.

“I’m not saying they deserved it, but these men were disgusting,” Emily commented.

“Prentiss,” Hotch warned, but he knew she was right.

She stared at him, daring him to go further. He dropped his gaze and walked over to Reid. “How’s that geographical profile coming along?”

“Well it’s interesting. See, their workplaces are all the ones in red. The places in blue are the last locations they were seen in- which is another common factor actually because they were all in restaurants, cafes and takeaways which is actually similar to a previous case we solved so I may look into that to see if there are any links- and I’m doing that rambling thing again aren’t I?”

“You’re okay,” Hotch said, not wanting to cut Reid off when they didn’t really have a time crunch.

“No I’ll just get to the point, we all have more important things to be doing. Look at the area where the victims work and then where the unsub takes them. They’re all within five minutes of each other. Our unsub probably work somewhere where they can watch their targets from, otherwise how else would they be able to find them?”

“We need to deliver the profile,” Hotch said.

Two days after they delivered the profile, and the unsub still hadn’t been found. Garcia’s tech skills had given them a suspect, but he’d been out of the country during the last murder. Since the development with the geographical profile, they hadn’t been able to find anything. Hotch had felt like someone was watching him since they landed, but he hadn’t said anything, not wanting to distract the team.

Morale was low. Patience was running out and tempers were going to be lost if there wasn’t a break in the case. Officers had started joking with each other in the macabre way only people that dealt with these things on a regular basis could that they were lucky none of them were evil as the station was extremely close to the other workplaces, bur Finkelstein had shut them down almost immediately.

Hotch had cried in the shower that night. Reid had wanted to say something, but ultimately refrained because it was Hotch and Hotch didn’t blink; he’d be okay.

So things weren’t going great, and the team were exhausted. They needed a pick-me-up.

Hotch picked up his jacket. “I’m going to get us food. Does anyone have any specific requests, or is donuts and coffee okay?”

“You’re going to go?” Prentiss asked, a little confused. Hotch had gone yesterday. It was supposed to be Reid’s turn.

“Yeah. I am. Reid’s busy, and it’s not fair to ask him to go and it’s unfair to get someone else to go because they’ve all be running themselves into the ground. And before you say it, I’m not saying that you haven’t, because you have,” Hotch said, his own temper also fading. He was trying so hard to be good, to not treat anyone the way his father had but the lack of progress, combined with the way Emily seemed to get off on undermining him, even now, after everything that had happened, was beginning to wear on him.

“Hotch? Are you okay?” JJ asked, entering with another stack of files. As it turned out, the town was full of white males in their mid-to-late 20s that worked jobs where the person in charge had a bit of a dodgy history, and they were still trying to narrow it down.

“I’m fine. Any requests for dinner? I’m probably going to go to that café because Reid will want coffee as soon as he gets back from the workplace with Morgan, and Rossi likes their croissants but I don’t mind making another stop if you want me to,” he said.

JJ smiled at how well her boss- well, family member- knew their team, and also at how willing he was to go out of his way for all of them. But her smile faded when she took in his appearance. The circles under his eyes were getting worse and his suit seemed to be looser. She knew Reid was having trouble sleeping as the fifth anniversary of his abduction approached, and she knew Emily was still struggling with her place on the team in a world without Doyle, but their trauma was not Hotch’s responsibility. She just wished he would stop blaming himself.

“Surprise me with something from the café. But are you sure you should be the one going?” She didn’t tell him it was because he looked exhausted; she liked her job.

But she had her back turned to him. She didn’t see him clench his fist, rubbing his thumb over the nail of his index finger in a self-soothing motion. She didn’t see the tears form in his eyes.

“I’ll be fine JJ. Tell the others I should be back in thirty minutes,” he said, voice cracking slightly as he fled.

“Is something going on with him?” Prentiss asked.

JJ shrugged. “Jack mentioned him being unwell right after you came back, but I thought he was doing better now.”

Emily watched the space where he’d been previously stood. “I just wish he would talk to us. He has to know we love him and wouldn’t think any less of him for struggling.”

JJ nodded in agreement.

Hotch was driving, unable to focus on the road properly. He knew his team thought they were being subtle with the way they hated him, but he was a profiler. He knew JJ was only questioning whether or not he should go because he was just like all the other victims and it had been a week since the last body was found, meaning there was bound to be another abduction soon.

It wasn’t going to be him. He wasn’t deserving of even that attention.

“Oh hello again. I was wondering if I was going to see you again,” the barista said when he entered.

Hotch noted that there was nobody else there. “I’m so sorry, is it really close to closing time? I saw that the light was on and I just assumed it was okay.”

He laughed. Hotch shifted uncomfortably. He wasn’t sure he liked it.

“We’re still open, don’t worry about it. What can I get for you?”

“It’s another long order,” Hotch warned. The barista just shrugged, used to it. When Hotch was done, he took a brownie out and warmed it up.

“This is on the house because you look like you need it and your order will take a bit of time,” he said, sliding it across the counter.

Hotch stopped observing the artwork. “I couldn’t possibly-”

“Yes you can,” the barista said, his tone so much like JJ’s when she was mother-henning them all that Hotch silently took a bite. It was a good brownie. He took a few more bites, wincing when his head started to feel fuzzy.

“Do you like it?” the barista asked.

“It’s really good. But my head- I have- my head feels, not right,” he whispered, vision starting to blur as well.

“It’s not supposed to,” the barista responded, jovial tone gone.

The world went black.

The first thing he noticed when he came round was that he couldn’t move his arms. Or his legs. He struggled, unable to see what had happened to him as his eyes were taking forever to adjust to the darkness, but there was no movement to be had.

He was tied to a chair. He struggled even more, but his bonds held.

“You’re awake.”

“You,” Hotch whispered. “It was you the whole time.”

“Yep. And my name is Jonathan. You would know that if you had just bothered to read my nametag,” he said.

Hotch scanned the room, searching for anything that would act as a weapon. There was nothing. He tried to calm his racing heart and think logically but he couldn’t. The last time he’d been this vulnerable was under George Foyet. George Foyet who had destroyed all feeling in the lower part of his stomach, who had killed Haley, who had made damn well sure Aaron would never be able to look at himself without seeing the victory on Foyet’s face right before his eyes fluttered shut from the blood loss.

“I’m sorry for forgetting,” he said, fighting to keep his voice even.

Jonathan slapped him across the face. Hotch recoiled as much as he could, not making a sound. It was always worse when you made a sound.

“Stop lying to me. I know who you are. I know how you people work. You think that if you convince me that it was all just an honest mistake, then I’ll forgive you and let you go running back to your team. Well I won’t and nothing you say will make me change my mind.”

“I’m sorry,” Hotch whispered. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”

Jonathan scoffed, slapping Hotch again. Both his cheeks were red now. “You’re all the same. You do one small thing for your team, and you think it will make up for the lifetime of pain you caused them. Well it won’t.”

He turned. Hotch tried to see what he was picking up, but he couldn’t. Before he even realised what was happening, pain blossomed in his stomach. Above him, Jonathan bought the cane down again, and again, and again.

Tears were streaming down his face now. “Please, stop. Please, I’ll do anything, just stop with the cane.” He hated begging. He hadn’t begged since he was a child. He hadn’t flinched when George Foyet fired a gun at him. But he wasn’t that man anymore. He was tired now. More tired and more broken that he’d ever been before.

Jonathan laughed. “Okay. I’ll stop. But I’m going to release you from the chair, and you’re going to raise your arms high enough for your hands to touch that chain on the ceiling. If you fail, I’ll cane you till you’re curled into a ball, begging for mercy.”

Aaron was half-delirious now, but he managed to follow the instructions given.

When Jonathan ran the cold metal of his knife, the same knife he’d used with all the other victims, down his cheek and across his chest, Aaron flinched. Minutely, but he flinched.

Jonathan smirked. “Normally I killed them quickly. I made them die quickly because they didn’t deserve to live. But you, you I want to have fun with.” He cut down the centre of Hotch’s shirt with one clean cut. Aaron closed his eyes, unable to look at the scars.

“My, my, someone must really have hated you,” Jonathan laughed.

Hotch didn’t respond. Jonathan pressed the metal to the scar over his chest. Hotch jerked at the coldness, straining his arms even more.

“You’re a bad man Aaron Hotchner. I’ve been watching you since you landed. You’re very bad. Do you want to know why you’re bad? You’re a bully. I saw the way you shouted at your technical analyst over the phone because she wasn’t fast enough.”

Hotch hadn’t meant to shout. He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to remember it.

“Oh are you ashamed now? You don’t get to be ashamed. Open your eyes.”

Hotch shook his head.

Jonathan wrapped one hand around Hotch’s throat and pushed down. Hotch opened his eyes, panicked as he tried to inhale. He relaxed his hold then.

“Good boy. You shouted at her. And then you undermined the blonde one by taking over her interrogation. And the other one by interrupting her conversation with the officer. Sexist pig.”

The plan had always been for him to take over. The officer had been making Prentiss uncomfortable with his flirting. Hotch tried to say that, but Jonathan just laughed, then punched him in the stomach. Claimed those were just lies they told him to protect themselves so they kept their jobs.

“You tried to control their every move. You wouldn’t let Mr Strong do the right thing and come look for me. Drill sergeant. You cut off the baby because you needed to speak, acted like you were better than him. Like you were better than all of them.”

“I’m not a narcissist,” Hotch protested.

Jonathan dropped the knife, opting to punch him in the stomach again. Hotch let out a groan. “That’s what they all say. It’s been half an hour. They’ll be expecting you back now. I wonder what will happen when you don’t come back. Will they look for you? I think they will. Not because they love you, but because they’ll be afraid. What if you’re the one to survive? What if you escape?”

“They won’t come,” Hotch said.

Jonathan, who had gone back over to the table, turned. “What did you say?”

“They won’t come,” Hotch repeated.

Jonathan stormed over, holding a bat. Before Hotch could prepare himself, he was hitting him with it. In the knees, across the back of his thighs, everywhere that would cause the most pain. Hotch didn’t want to know what the crack he’d heard when that bat had hit his ribs was.

Jonathan liked the bat. When he heard the crack, he grinned. And then he Hotch over the head. For the second time that day, the world went black.

“He should be here by now,” Reid said, pacing up and down the conference room. “It’s been fifty-seven minutes. The journey should have taken an average of thirty minutes, forty with traffic, but it’s now after eleven when there’s virtually no traffic on the road.”

“I’m sure he’s fine, Reid. There was probably some cute barista he got stuck talking to. You know how Hotch is. Never knows when people are flirting with him, and then when he does realise, he gets stuck in an awkward conversation,” Morgan said, but it was all an act. He knew there wouldn’t be a cute barista. But for the sake of Reid, he had to stay strong.

“Look Aaron wouldn’t want us to worry. In twenty minutes, we’ll go back to the hotel. And if he’s not here tomorrow, then we’ll start to investigate okay?” Dave said.

The others nodded, all feeling uneasy, but having the utmost faith in their leader.

Their leader that was still unconscious, Jonathan having moved him to the floor. The back of his head was coated with blood. He almost looked like Haley. But Haley had looked peaceful in her coffin, face void of any expression. Aaron was in pain, despite not being awake.

Jonathan didn’t try and force him to wake up. Aaron Hotchner was going to be his masterpiece.

“Is Agent Hotchner not with you?” Finkelstein asked once they got to the precinct.

They all turned to each other. Dave immediately dialled his cell.

“Voicemail,” he said.

Emily turned away, not wanting to think about the last time his phone had gone to voicemail. She still couldn’t get the image of him, so weak that he couldn’t even sit up without assistance, his face so defeated as he said goodbye to the one good thing in his life, out of her mind. It haunted her nightmares more than Ian Doyle did.

“We need to find him,” Morgan said.

“I’ll have Garcia track his phone,” JJ said.

She tracked his phone to the coffee shop. There was nobody there. No signs of a struggle. Nobody outside had seen anything strange or suspicious.

When Morgan and Rossi returned, faces grave, Reid excused himself. When he returned, his eyes were red. JJ hugged him, words not enough to convey how sorry she was for everything that had happened between them. Emily watched, biting her nails. Hotch had put everything on the line for her multiple times. He didn’t get to go missing like this.

Jonathan was bored of watching Aaron sleep. He kicked him in the stomach, grinning when he let out a soft groan of pain, but managed to open his eyes.

“Morning sunshine,” he greeted.

Aaron tried to flinch away, but found his legs and arms were bound. His head was pounding, his ribs ached, his stomach was bruising from where Jonathan had kicked him and there were angry welts from where the cane had struck.

“You’re a bastard,” Hotch spat, trying not to panic when blood splattered onto his clothes.

“You give me the sweetest compliments, I’m starting to wonder if you really are like the rest of my victims.”

Hotch tried to glare up at him.

Jonathan laughed. “And then you do things like that, and I remember that you’re all the same. You know, I wanted to have a conversation about what you said earlier, but now I think I’ll save that for tomorrow. There’s a few things I want to do before then.”

Hotch had choked on water before. It wasn’t pleasant. But having it forced down his throat was worse. He couldn’t keep swallowing it, and most of it ended up on his shirt. That angered Jonathan. It led to more pain. More torture. Hotch couldn’t feel anything though. He didn’t think that was a good thing. A part of him was holding out hope that the team would find him, but with every passing moment, it seemed to fade slightly.

Why should the team look for him? He’s nothing. He would die for them, because they were his team and they deserved the world. But he was not the world. He was just one broken, old man and they could do better. They could do so, so much better than a drill sergeant, sexist, narcissistic bully.

There were no windows where he was being held. But at some point, Jonathan forced him to eat. And at some point later than that, he told Hotch to get some rest as the next day was going to be big.

Hotch closed his eyes, but he did not sleep.

Nor did any member of the BAU. A whole day of searching and there were still no clues that would lead them to Hotch. Nobody had been reported missing either, which meant either nobody cared enough about the person that had been kidnapped or the unsub was developing a new pattern. Either way, it wasn’t looking good.

Rossi forced them all to get some sleep. He told himself that if they got Aaron back safely, he would make sure that man knew just how much he was loved by all of them. He would finally tell Aaron how he had always viewed him as the son he’d lost, and how he had never once regretted returning.

Morgan knew his relationship with Hotch would never be perfect, but at the end of the day, they were a family. He would spend the rest of his life convincing Hotch that he deserved all the happiness in the world if he needed to, as soon as he’d lectured him about being an idiot.

Garcia was already planning what she was going to make for him. She remembered when she had first started in the BAU, and Hotch had been the only person to treat her like an actual employee. They would eat lunch together because neither of them really had any friends within the unit. Morgan and Reid were still trying to adjust to her, and Gideon had always loved Reid more than he loved Hotch, which had made her sad.

Reid couldn’t lose another father. He lay awake, thinking of stories that he could recommend for Jack. He wanted to be in his own bed, where he could look at the constellations on his ceiling. Hotch had somehow found out about his fear of the dark, but instead of mocking him, he said he’d understood. A day later, he found glow in the dark stars in his bag with a note from Hotch saying he wanted to see a picture of the constellations he made.

Reid had returned the favour after Foyet.

JJ held Emily and they both hoped that he- the man that had already lost so much and struggled through it all for the sake of their band of misfit profilers- would come home safely.

“Rise and shine Aaron,” Jonathan said, throwing a bucket of water over Hotch, who immediately jerked awake as he started to shiver.

“What’s going on?” he whispered.

“You’ll see. But first, I need to make you a little bit more… presentable, shall we say?”

Hotch knew better than to hope that would mean a change of clothes. Jonathan removed the rope around his hands, but only to slide Aaron’s shirt off his shoulders. He pushed down on the bruises, only stopping when Hotch gasped.

“They’re going to be distraught,” he commented, punching Hotch in the face.

His eyes immediately started watering. Jonathan punched him again. Hotch recoiled, feeling the blood drip from his nose. He was dead weight now, but they had been right in assuming that their unsub was incredibly strong. He pulled Aaron into the chair before tying him up, bloodied and beaten and bruised and broken.

Hotch saw the camera.

And he suddenly understood what Jonathan meant.

“No,” he shouted, voice hoarse.

But it was too late.

“Hello Agent Hotchner’s team. I apologise for not knowing your first names, but Aaron only ever used your surnames. Maybe he wanted to detach himself from you all. Let’s see. Ah, the whole team is there! I don’t actually know who you all are, but that’s no worry. I bet you’re trying to work out where he is. It’s not going to work. You should watch the show instead. I bet you really want to see your fearless leader.”

Jonathan stepped back to reveal Hotch.

Morgan had to put his hand on the screen to stop Garcia from closing it. Reid whimpered, JJ shouted, Rossi cursed loudly. Finkelstein grabbed a whole bunch of officers and told them to do whatever it took to find that man.

“Now, Agent Hotchner talks in his sleep. Did you know that? And he’s said some quite interesting things. But first, we’re going to unpack something he said to me on our first day together. Do you remember what that thing was, Aaron?”

Aaron looked up at him, dazed. “No,” he whispered.

“You told me, they weren’t going to come and get you. I killed four people. All of them laughed and told me their colleagues, or their friends, or their families would find them. You didn’t. Why? Tell me. Tell them. They’re all watching.”

Hotch closed his eyes, needing to ground himself. When he opened them, tears were pooling in them, threatening to spill. “They already failed once. They didn’t- we had a case. But they never found me. I didn’t answer my phone, but they didn’t come looking until it was too late to save anyone. They failed to save me once. Why would they try now?”

Garcia was crying. She was trying to find him, but the unsub was right. It was impossible. They’d already dispatched officers to the man’s work and home addresses, but they all knew it was just a formality. They weren’t going to find anything.

“He’s right. We didn’t find him. We should have gone the moment his phone went to voicemail,” Emily said.

“That’s in the past,” Rossi said. “We need to focus on now. Where is he, now? How are we going to save him this time?”

“He’ll send us a message. Some sort of code. He has to,” Reid said, intently watching the screen.

Jonathan looked at Hotch for a few long moments. And then he took the knife he was holding and he cut one deep line from Hotch’s knee to his ankle. Hotch begged for mercy the whole time, but it never came.

“How tragic. Did you ever wonder why they didn’t try?”

“I’m not worth saving,” Hotch whispered.

That caused Jonathan to pause. “What?”

“I’m not worth saving. I’m a narcissist. A bully. Drill sergeant. I have trust issues, I don’t trust women as much as men and they don’t want to be my friend,” Hotch said.

Rossi frowned. “Kid, what’s the message? I don’t get it.”

Reid was shaking. “I don’t- I called him a narcissist when Hankel told me to choose someone to die but I didn’t mean it. I didn’t, I said it because I knew he would understand. He never puts himself above the team. But when I said that it gave away my location. There’s nothing with what he just said. Nothing. I don’t even know where the other things came from.”

Prentiss pressed her hand to her mouth. “He genuinely believes that. He’s not lying. I know his tell. He’s not doing it. He’s telling his version of the truth.”

Rossi turned. “What do you mean he genuinely believes that?”

All three of them swallowed, unable to form a response.

“When Reid called Hotch a narcissist and then quoted the Bible, Hotch went off. He told everyone to say what his worst quality was. And in the moment Morgan called him a drill sergeant. JJ said he was a bully. Em said he didn’t trust women as much as men. He cut them off after that and it was never addressed. I told- when we got back to Quantico, I told him he didn’t wear casual clothes enough and he- he smiled,” Garcia explained.

Rossi had never been so angry at his family. “Why would you say that? You know what he’s like. You know how personally he takes things. It doesn’t matter that it was just in the moment, he needed to hear it from all of you that you didn’t mean it.”

Prentiss lunged forward. “Aaron,” she shouted. When Hotch turned slightly to face the camera, she breathed a sigh of relief. “Aaron, it’s Emily. I know you’re not sexist. I know that you trust me just as much as anyone else on the team. I promise. And Morgan loves you too. JJ doesn’t think you’re a bully. We love you, but we need you to help us. Please.”

Jonathan turned to face the camera too. “Stop ruining all the fun, Emily.”

Emily flinched. Jonathan said her name like it was something dirty, but Aaron had only ever said it like it was something to be cherished.

When Jonathan slapped Hotch, Reid closed his eyes.

“What do you think Aaron? Do you think she’s correct? Are you worthy of their love? Or are you exactly like the other victims, maybe even worse?”

Hotch shook his head. “I don’t know. Please, I just, I don’t know.”

Jonathan picked up the cane. Hotch curled in on himself as much as he could. For everyone else, it was like watching Hankel torture Reid all over again. When the cane made contact with Hotch’s stomach, the sound he let out made the tears in Rossi’s eyes fall.

“I think I’ll let you all struggle for a few hours before the grand finale. But, I am nothing if not generous. Aaron, is there anything you want to say to them?”

He looked directly at the camera. Not even Morgan could look into his eyes, so full of pain and anguish. “I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry for everything. I’m- I never meant for any of you to become so damaged and I am so- I will spend every last minute making up for the pain I caused you, but please, just, please forgive me. Forgive me. Please.”

Jonathan ended it all. There was no way of tracing them.

Reid repeated the words to himself. He needed to find the clue. He needed to work out what the message was. He refused to believe there wasn’t one. Morgan and Rossi slipped into their respective leadership roles, commanding everyone and barking orders. Garcia’s fingers were like lightning, she was finding everything she could on Jonathan. JJ dealt with the media, who wanted to know exactly what was going on. Prentiss flitted between the various groups, offering support. It was weird. Coming back had felt like coming home, but then there were moments like these where she wasn’t sure she’d ever been part of the team.

Hotch was confused. He knew Emily’s tell. She couldn’t hide it from him. He’d been searching for it as she spoke, but it wasn’t there. Which would imply she was telling the truth. But that wasn’t possible. He couldn’t let himself believe it was possible. Only, there was no other logical discussion. Maybe they loved him. Maybe they cared.

“What are you?” Jonathan hissed.

“Their friend,” Aaron whispered, momentarily forgetting where he was.

Jonathan kicked his bare foot. Aaron winced.

“No, you aren’t,” Jonathan said. “You’re a narcissist. You’re a bully. And a drill sergeant, and a sexist prick. I’m assuming- by the looks on their faces- the blonde with glasses and the old man never said anything against you. But I think I know what they would say. You’re rude. And you’re a failure. So what are you?”

“A narcissist,” Hotch replied. But he knew that wasn’t the truth. They were going to find him. They were going to save him, somehow, because that was what their family did.

Dave saved him by offering him the spot. He saved Penelope from a life of crime. Penelope saved Emily from doubting herself too much. Emily saved Jennifer from carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. Jennifer saved Spencer from thinking he wasn’t worth loving. Spencer saved Derek from getting too cynical. Derek saved Dave from getting too cocky. And the cycle continued.

Reid was pacing, wringing his hands, still mouthing the words to him. Everyone else had stopped because there was nothing left to do.

Without warning, Reid turned and punched the wall.

“Spence!” JJ shouted.

Reid stared at his hand, where blood was now covering his knuckles. Shaking, he fell to his knees, sobbing. Hotch would know what to do. Hotch would take his hand and gently wrap it before talking to him about whatever it was that was going on. He would help him sort through the information overwhelming him.

But Hotch wasn’t there. And it was all his fault.

JJ and Morgan ran over to him. Reid wanted to push them away but found himself powerless to resist their coddling.

“Guys,” Garcia said, answering the call.

She let out a gasp. Hotch’s stomach was worse. There were more cuts on his leg. His face was covered in bruises. But there was something else that hadn’t been there before. A defiant, hopeful glint in his eyes. Like he knew something else now.

“Hello again,” Jonathan greeted.

Garcia immediately started trying to trace the call, not even hesitating to try thousands of other methods when it failed.

Reid pushed Morgan and JJ away, taking the seat next to Garcia to try and find the hidden message.

“I’ve trained Aaron very well,” Jonathan commented. He was holding a gun. Hotch’s gun. Hotch’s back-up gun he’d kept holstered against his ankle ever since Adrian Bale had left him defenceless.

Under the table, Reid fiddled.

“What are you?” Jonathan asked Hotch.

“A narcissist,” Hotch replied, but there was something different about the way he said it when compared to earlier. Reid leant forward, determined to work it out.

“What are you?” he asked again, now pointing the gun at his head. Reid felt bile rise in his throat. It must have been like that for everyone else, watching him with Hankel.

“A bully.”

“And?”

“A drill sergeant.”

“He doesn’t believe what he’s saying,” Reid shouted, then covered his mouth, just in case Jonathan heard. But he was too busy taunting Hotch with the negative things that had been said about him.

“What?” Rossi asked.

“Look at his body language. He doesn’t believe it anymore. Emily convinced him. We just need to work out where he is. If he knows we love him, he won’t do anything stupid.”

Garcia started typing even more furiously.

“Tell them again what you are. Let them savour the moment. Let them always remember this as the moment where Aaron Hotchner finally admitted how dreadful he was.”

“I’ve got a location!” Garcia whispered. Everyone looked at each other, then nodded. Finkelstein and his team would arrest Jonathan and get Hotch out. They would follow as soon as the call had ended.

“I’m a narcissist. A bully. A drill sergeant. A sexist prick. A failure. And I’m rude.”

“I suppose you get the smallest amount of credit for admitting it. But it’s not enough to say it. I want you to prove it. Choose one of them to die.”

Reid dug his nails into the fabric of his trousers.

Hotch’s eyes widened, and for the first time his confidence wavered. “What?”

“You heard me. If you’re truly all of these things, choose one to die. Choose one of those team members that hate you so much to die by your own gun.”

“Come on Hotch. Give us that message that tells us how to get you out safely,” Reid muttered to himself.

Hotch wasn’t answering.

“Wasn’t Agent Reid in a similar situation to this? And didn’t he say that he chose Aaron Hotchner? That must have hurt.”

“It’s Doctor,” Hotch responded, voice weak, the adrenaline waring off as he lost more blood and as his previous injuries went untreated.

“Oh god,” JJ said, the first to realise his mistake.

Hotch’s eyes widened.

Jonathan smirked. “Oh dear. Have you been lying to me? Are you not actually these things?”

“Finkelstein is three minutes away,” Rossi updated.

“I am!” Hotch exclaimed. His voice was hoarse, his eyes glazed over and unfocused.

“Then choose.”

“No.”

“My patience grows thin Aaron. Choose.”

“Two minutes,” Rossi said.

“Hotch please,” Reid pleaded. JJ rubbed his shoulder, just as tense.

“I can’t,” Hotch said, pain starting to overwhelm him as he tried too hard to think of a solution.

“Do it,” Jonathan said, fingers fiddling with the trigger.

“I choose myself,” Hotch said.

“No,” Reid whispered. “There has to be a message somewhere in there. He said: it’s doctor, but before that he said what and after that he said no and- there’s no message. Rossi there’s no message. What are we supposed to do?”

“Finkelstein is a minute away. Hotch will keep him talking. And then we’ll get him back. I promise.”

“Why? Why do you choose yourself, when your team hate you?” Jonathan was angry and holding a gun. A dangerous combination at the best of times. But Hotch had no weapon. No vest.

Restrained and already weakened by his injuries.

“Because they don’t,” Hotch said.

“Yes they do,” Jonathan said through gritted teeth.

“They just need our signal to go in,” Rossi said.

“I can’t make that call,” Morgan confessed.

Rossi looked at him. “We can’t afford to wait.”

“No, they don’t. Your team did though, didn’t they? And then you lost your job for all the bad things you did and ended up being the victim of a person that was exactly the same as you had been. Aren’t I right? You’re not exactly hard to profile, I’ve just been waiting for the right moment.”

“How fucking dare you-” Jonathan started, then sighed. “I want you to tell me. Tell me why it should be you and not one of them.”

Rossi turned away. “Now.”

“Because they are my family. I love them unconditionally. And they love me back. And when you love your family, you do everything you can to keep them safe.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

“They’re your family? Who love you?”

Aaron used the last of his strength to look up into his captor’s eyes. “And I love them.”

Jonathan hmmed.

The gunshot that rang out was nothing compared to Reid’s cry of horror.

[vampiregirl1797]

When You Need a Shoulder to Sleep On

Spencer Reid x Wife Reader

 GIF Not Mine

 Summary: When you return back to work as a profiler with the BAU after being gone for maternity leave, the job is harder than it used to be, being as you’re functioning on little to no sleep and no caffeine. Lucky for you, you have your wonderful husband, Spencer, and your family at the BAU to support you.

 Word Count: 2,642

 Click Here For Masterlist

 It had been fourteen months since I’d had a cup of coffee. While I’d been pregnant, ironically enough I hadn’t noticed the absence of the heavenly hot beverage. But now I was returning to work and functioning on less than three hours sleep? Yeah, I was exhausted. Spencer, my wonderful, loving husband and doting father, bless his soul, had even less sleep. He tended to sleep light anyway, and since the baby had arrived he’s been a little... protective. So it was routine for us both to attend to little baby Gideon Derek together, as neither of us were able to think about sleep until we knew the baby was back down.

 The difference of course was that I was functioning with no caffeinated stimulants to keep my brain working, while Spencer was on his third cup of heavenly goodness since we’d arrived at the Bureau. Which of course meant that I was barely functioning at all.

‘Denise Hernandez was found murdered in her apartment a week ago. She was discovered by her landlord three days later when he went to check on her, after another tenant had voiced their concern.’ Garcia said, the beeping of her pressing the buttons on her beepy echoing throughout the room, ‘there were no signs of sexual assault and the body was in her bed and she was tucked in underneath her own duvet.’

 I blinked, trying to force some energy into my body as I flipped open the file in front of me, detailing the murder Garcia was narrating.

 ‘The unsub wrapped her in plastic underneath the covers to prevent her blood from sleeping through the fabric.’ I voiced aloud as I read it in the report, ‘that indicates that the way he leaves her behind is important to him.’

 ‘That’s true, before the covers were removed she looks asleep.’ Rossi agreed, flicking through the photographs in his own file.

 ‘If that’s the case it’s interesting he doesn’t chose a less gruesome method of murder. If the charade of the victim appearing asleep is so important to him, why go through the trouble of stabbing her twelve times?’ Tara added, taking a sip of her coffee after she spoke.

 I tried not to stare too longingly at the mug, despite knowing that a cup would jolt the energy back into my system.

 ‘If she didn’t live alone I’d suggest it’s done by way of giving him more time before the murder is discovered. It would be a while before anyone realized she was asleep.’ I said, looking over to the enhanced crime scene photos on the screen. There was something bothering me about the whole picture, I just couldn’t put my finger on it.

 ‘But since she did live alone it’s more likely that the manner he’s displayed her, as well as the method he’s employed, are both important to him.’ Spencer said, his lips pursed in thought as his eyes quickly moved over the pages in his hand.

 The amount of information his beautiful brain could take in, in such little time, still blew me away after all these years. I’d never get tired of his incredible mind, whether it be the facts he knew and eagerly shared, or the way he excitedly took in new information. He was amazing and so sexy.

 ‘Have there been any other victims?’ Derek asked, his eyes moving from the file in front of him to the colorfully dressed blonde.

 ‘Yes. Danielle Richmond was discovered in her apartment this morning. She lives alone and according to the M.E. She died yesterday, she was discovered quicker than the last victim as she had plans with a friend who called the cops when she didn’t show up or answer her phone.’ She clicked her beeper three more times, bringing up a picture of Danielle and a few pictures from the crime scene.

 ‘They look like they could be twins.’ I noted, both had brown eyes, olive complexions, long brown hair and a slender figure, ‘seems like he has a very specific type in terms of victimology. Either he’s working up to killing someone specific in his life that looks like these women, or someone who looks like her has died and triggered these killings.’

 ‘Those are both things we should keep in mind.’ Prentiss nodded, closing her file, ‘wheels up in ten.’

 //

 ‘There’s something out of place here.’ I murmured, taking a step back with my arms crossed over my chest

 ‘What is it?’ Morgan asked, standing next to me and taking in the room as well.

 ‘I’m not sure...’ I trailed off, my gaze landing on the book next to Danielle’s bed. I walked over and picked it up, reading the title aloud, ‘A book of fairytales. That’s what’s out of place.’

 I pulled out my phone and dialed JJ— her and Alvez were at the other crime scene.

 ‘Hey, Y/N, what’s up?’

 ‘At your crime scene, are their any novels by the bed?’

 ‘Hang on,’ she said, there was some shuffling over the receiver as I handed the book I was holding to Morgan, ‘yeah there’s a copy of fairytales. Oh my god.’

 Morgan opened the book, he brows lifting in surprise before he turned it around. It was a picture of Snow White dead in her see through coffin, but the victims face had been glued over the cartoon features.

 ‘Can you bring your book back to the station? I think I know what he’s doing.’ I sighed, hanging up my phone and sliding it into my back pocket.

 //

 I smiled as I entered the station, telling Morgan that I’d meet him in the briefing room in a minute after I’d been to the bathroom. Of course he knew I was lying, but he must have sympathized with the dark circles under my eyes because he didn’t call me on it.

 I discretely but firmly grasped my husband’s hand and led him down an unpopulated corridor.

 ‘How are you feeling, honey?’ he asked, pulling me close and rubbing my lower back as I practically melted into his chest. I loved that he didn’t have to ask why I’d commandeered him for a moment alone—I assumed he was used to my clingy behaviour and heightened emotional state when I was so exhausted.

 ‘I’m feeling drained, Spence.’ I sighed, nuzzling into the cotton of his cardigan and relaxing even further at the scents that emitted from the fabric—softener, his cologne and a faint trace of mint from the shower he’d taken earlier that morning.

 ‘If you’re too tired, there’s no shame in saying so. Emily, actually everyone, would understand if you needed a quick power nap, honey.’ He kissed my hair, his other hand resting at the bottom of my neck and rubbing the flesh there—he knew I carried a lot of tension in that particular area.

 A soft groan fell from my lips as he kneaded the knots out of my flesh, my bones practically melting as he continued.

 ‘Hmm,’ I murmured, trying to focus, but it was hard when I felt so calm and relaxed to the point of wanting to sleep, ‘no it’s okay, I’m not that bad yet. I promise.’

 It was something we’d talked about before I’d returned from maternity leave—he knew my stubbornness often led to me pushing myself too far before the baby, and now I was running on no sleep it was likely to get worse due to my heightened emotions. He proposed that we come up with a deal—if I ever felt too tired, or like I needed a few hours to recuperate then I had to tell him and not push myself too far.

 This deal had been proposed after I’d been taking care of our precious baby boy for thirty-six hours straight with no sleep. I’d practically been a zombie when Spence came home from a case and when he’d offered to take the baby so I could get some much needed sleep I’d nearly bitten his head off, insisting I could do it. I’d then promptly burst into tears because I’d snapped at my husband when all he was trying to do was help, and because I was so exhausted and all the emotions chose that moment to break free.

 The next day after I’d slept for twelve hours straight, he’d told me it was common for new mothers to feel like they weren’t doing enough and they often felt like they couldn’t ask for help, even from their spouses. The knowledge had soothed me, as had his assurance that I was doing a good job, and that admitting I needed some time for myself was okay. That’s when he’d made me promise to not push it too far, and it now transferred to the field now I was back at work.

 ‘Okay,’ he kissed my hair again and I lifted my head up, my lips pursed for a kiss. I heard him chuckle lightly before he complied, his lips soft and warm against my own. I sighed, the pleasant zing his lips always inspired shooting through me from my head all the way down to my toes.

 ‘I love you, Spencer Reid.’ I told him, the sparkle and adoration in his eyes made my heart expand in my chest—it’d been like that for five years now and I didn’t see it ever dissipating.

 ‘I love you, Y/N Reid.’ He kissed my forehead and we stayed there for a few moments longer, appreciating the quiet tranquility of the moment before we reluctantly agreed to join the team in the briefing room.

 //

 ‘This unsub is replicating fairytales.’ I said as Morgan opened the book we’d bought back from the crime scene and slid it into the middle of the table so everyone could see.

 ‘Danielle was the replication of Snow White. After we discovered this, we also found an apple underneath her bed that had been bitten into. It was bagged for evidence and they’re going to try and pull the teeth imprints, but my guess is it’s going to be a match to the victim.’ I pulled out a chair, scooting close enough to Spencer so that I could smell his cologne.

 ‘Denise’s death is tied to Sleeping Beauty.’ Alvez slid the book he’d bought back next to the other, ‘we found a miniature spindle wheel underneath her bed next to a few drops of what we assume to be the victims blood. We’ve asked the M.E. To see if there are any wounds on Denise’s fingers that look like they could’ve been made on a spindle wheel.’

 ‘Well this is good, in the sense that we can predict what fairytale the unsub is going to replicate next, but it doesn’t help us with identifying the next victim.’ Tara said, looking over to the clear board at the head of the room, which showcased the crime scene and victim’s pictures.

 ‘There has to be something, other than appearance, that these women have in common.’ Alvez commented, twirling his pen between his fingers.

 ‘And you would be correct, newbie.’ I smiled at the nickname— Alvez had been on the team for almost two years now, yet Garcia still called him that, ‘both women were part of a fairytale online reading club.’

 ‘Are there any other women in the club who look like the first two victims?’ Prentiss asked.

 ‘Great minds think alike my dear Emily, pictures and addresses of the three women who share similar appearances have been sent to your tablets.’

 Our iPad’s beeped before she’d even finished her sentence and we all looked at the pictures, noting their characteristics were eerily similar to Danielle and Denise.

 ‘We should contact the women to warn them and assign them each a protective detail.’ Spence said as I observed the pictures with my lips pursed, hoping I’d have a brain wave and be able to pinpoint a connection. The Sheriff left the room to assign that responsibility to some uniform officers.

 ‘We know who he’s likely going after, but we haven’t figured out why or how he’d have a connection to this—.’ I paused a thought echoing through my brain so astoundingly fast that I felt a little light headed, ‘what if the unsub is a partner to one of these girls? And he’s killing them this way because he resents his partner’s love for this and he’s mocking her?’

 ‘That’s a good idea— maybe one of these girls cheated on him and he’s disparaging her idea of a happy ending?’ Tara added.

 ‘Garcia, have any of these three women recently gotten divorced?’ Spence asked.

 ‘Yes, Regina Kingston, the creator of the book club filed for divorce ten days ago. It hasn’t been finalized yet, but the paperwork was finalized and submitted eight days ago.’ Garcia reeled off, her voice coated with realization.

 ‘That’s the stressor.’ Alvez said as we all begun to stand from around the table.

 ‘Garcia,’ Emily started but our I.T genius cut her off and assured us his name and home address had been sent to us already.

 We all geared up, adding our bullet proof vests and making sure our guns were sufficiently loaded, should they be necessary in his capture. I bit back a yawn as we made our way to the cars—now was not the time to not be one hundred percent focused. We had an unsub to detain, and so I slapped my cheeks a few times during the drive, to make sure I was definitely awake.

 //

 Another yawn fell from my mouth; I’d lost count of how many times I’d done so since we’d got on the jet.

 ‘Woah momma, why are you still awake? I thought you would have dropped off as soon as we got on here.’ Derek commented, his signature smile on his face but the concern in his eyes was just as prominent.

 ‘I tried, every time I close my eyes I keep seeing flashes of the things I need to do when I get home.’ I sighed, though a small bright smile formed on my face when my husband took a seat next to me.

 ‘How is little Gideon Derek?’ JJ asked, taking a seat next to Morgan, ‘do you have anymore pictures?’

 I grinned, my face lighting up at the mention of our little bundle of joy, ‘I have around a hundred new ones I took before we left for this case.’

 I handed her my phone and she scrolled through the images, her smile growing at each new one. Morgan couldn’t help joining in after a while, unable to resist pictures of his godson. I’d caught a glimpse of his home background earlier and I was pretty sure it was the picture JJ had taken of Derek holding the baby for the first time at the hospital. He was a big softie, no matter how hard he tried to appear the opposite.

 I was bought out of my thoughts by Spence’s arm wrapping around my shoulders. I cuddled up into his side, eagerly snuggling into his warmth; I took a deep breath, his familiar and comforting scent relaxing me down to my bones. The voices around me became unfocused as I fell further and further into unconsciousness, the endless list of tasks that had been plaguing me before disappearing now that I was in the arms of my husband. I registered was the low vibration of Spence’s voice as he talked to JJ and Morgan, and the feel of his lips as he kissed my hair. The last thought that filtered through my mind before I surrendered to sleep was how lucky I was to have a husband as amazing as Spencer, a son as wonderful as Gideon and a family as incredible as the people that made up the B.A.U.

 A/N: This one came to me after I watched the episode where JJ returns after maternity leave and has trouble staying awake without being able to drink caffeine. I kind of like how it turned out, I hope you did too!

[dramionedaydream]

By popular demand, “Four Weddings and Dragon” Charmione story has an Epilogue

I guess I can’t say no to requests for epilogues. 

Read on AO3 or FFN or Wattpad

by diamonddaydream

Summary:  When Charlie Weasley takes Hermione Granger to visit the recovering Gringotts dragon, something sparks. Years later, after disaster strikes her long engagement, she finds herself in Romania in search of dragon-care lore, manipulated by a mad old witch, and discovering that Charlie in his element is much more than a spark. Soft, sweet, snuggly, and fluffy. HEA. Complete

Excerpt: 

Hermione’s eyes had adjusted to the low light in Charlie’s darkened room. From where she lay, pressed as close to the edge of the bed as she could get, she looked down at the transformed cushion he had made into a mattress for himself, his pale face visible in the dim moonlight.

“I want to know,” she said, curling into a ball. “When was the first time you noticed me. I was at the Quidditch World Cup with all of you but I don’t think you realized I wasn’t just part of the crowd.”

Charlie laughed and covered his eyes with one hand. “Yes. I have no memory of you being there. Nothing. Though, I can’t imagine you were too interested in me either.”

Hermione scoffed. “Of course I was. I was a full Weasley fan-girl by then. Your family was my hobby, my collection. And up until then, you’d been the missing piece. No, it was a great moment for me, meeting the complete set, whether you knew it or not.”

He laughed again, covering his eyes with both his hands, and she wondered for a moment if perhaps she should be embarrassed to have admitted all this.

“Right. The first time I took notice of you was at Bill’s wedding,” he said, dropping his hands for his eyes.

“When I interrupted your haircut?”

“Well, yes. There was that. But then, during the ceremony, you were totally checking me out. It was hard to miss.”

She uncurled from her fetal posture. “I was not!”

“Yeah, you were.”

She lay sputtering on the edge of the bed. “I had to look at something during the service. It doesn’t mean I -- “ She reached out and slapped at his arm as he continued to laugh. “Oh, stop it, Charlie. Stop laughing at poor teenaged me. Listen to you. You are awful, Charles Prewett Weasley.”

In flash, the laughter stopped. Charlie’s hand was on her wrist, pulling her over the edge of the bed and into the short fall onto his mattress. She felt like a caught snitch, plucked from where she was to come quickly and effortlessly to him. She was on her back, lying next to him, looking at his face as he propped himself on his elbow, keeping hold of her wrist with his opposite hand.

“You know my middle name?” His voice was low, rumbling with vibrations she could feel on her arm against his chest.

She swallowed. “Of course I do. Haven’t you been listening? Your family was my teenaged hobby. I know all of your brothers’ names. There’s William Arthur, Percival Ignatius, Fredericton Gideon, George Fabian, and of course Ro -- “

Charlie stopped her mouth with a kiss, the first one between them since Doamna Marius had married them to each other. It was different. It wasn’t that the two other kisses she’d shared with Charlie hadn’t been thrilling. But this -- it was scorching, electrified, wild. Still gripping her wrist, he moved to hold it against the mattress, their hands beside her head. The rest of him came to rest on top of her. She arched upward to meet him, her free hand finding his waist, her fingers curving over the hem of his vest. She shifted her knees to fit on either side of his legs and he groaned as he tore his mouth away from hers.

She thought he might speak but he didn’t. Maybe he couldn’t. She spoke instead. “Charles -- Prewett -- Weasley,” she said, pressing soft, wet kisses to his throat between each name. “Yes, that’s the only one of those names I can remember right now.”

Charlie cleared his throat and let go of her wrist, using the hand that had held it to brush her hair from her forehead. “We’ve got a problem. With my name,” he said. “After what you said -- about conjuring me with it -- it does things to me, when you say my name.”

Her mouth curved into a wicked smile. “Charlie, you can’t fetishize your own name.”

“I know, but -- “

“How will you live like that?”

He dropped his forehead on the mattress, next to her ear. “I don’t know. I was thinking of asking you to call me by one of my other names but -- well, you just proved that won’t work either. It’s just as bad, if not worse.”

She giggled beneath him. “Is it when anyone says your name, or just -- “

“Just you,” he said. “And here I don’t even know your middle name.”

She sighed. “It’s Jean. Just Jean.”

He hummed, considering it before he seemed to decide that if he couldn’t cure himself, at least he could strike her with the same affliction. Charlie closed in on her neck, alternating words and kisses, just as she’d done to him. “Hermione -- Jean -- Granger -- “ He paused, drew in a deep breath, and finished with one last name of hers, a new one. He whispered it against her throat.

“Weasley.”

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Days to Change a Lifetime

AU-gust Day Six: Hospital AU Fandom: Once Upon A Time Pairing: Rumbelle

Rated: T

Content Warning: Cancer, character death, terminal illness.

Summary: Mr Gold has a chance encounter with Belle French in the palliative ward, and they get to know each other over the last few days of her life.

Note: As you can probably tell from the summary, this does not have a happy ending.

Days to Change a Lifetime

Gold had always hated hospitals, and he could not for the life of him figure out how his chosen profession had led him to spend so much time in them. When he had decided to become a lawyer, he had reckoned on spending his entire working life in an office. He had not anticipated so many hospital visits. He had definitely not envisaged spending quite so much time in hospice units and palliative care wards.

He was a victim of his own success in a way, having gained a reputation for being good at handling cases involving wills, living wills and medical power of attorney, which was why, on this particular fateful Friday afternoon, he had found himself once more in a palliative care ward. That was how he met her. 

Belle.

He wasn’t sure that he would have noticed her if she had not been looking directly at him and he hadn’t seen that she had the most brilliant blue eyes he’d ever witnessed. Despite her pallor and the dark circles under her eyes, and the gauntness of her face where her illness had taken its toll, her eyes were still bright and mesmerising. 

The second thing that he noticed about her was that she was so comparatively young. Death didn’t discriminate, he knew that, but the patients he met on this type of ward in these types of grim circumstances tended to be a little older.

The third thing that he noticed was that she was alone. Most people had someone by their side during these final days, but she was on her own, and there was no evidence that she had ever had visitors. There were no personal touches in her room, no signs of the life that she’d led. She seemed so desolate, lying there in an impersonal room with no company, and that was what kept him arrested in her doorway, both of them looking at each other and both of them waiting for the next step to be taken. 

“Hi,” he said eventually. 

She smiled. “Hi.”

“Do you…” God, he was making a fool of himself and he’d probably have a nurse telling him to move along and stop disturbing the patients in a minute. “Would you like some company for a bit?”

“That would be lovely, thank you.” She paused. “Don’t you have your own family here though?”

Gold shook his head. “No, I’m a lawyer. I have a client here, but the meeting is over now.” He came into the room and sat down in the chair beside the bed, feeling more awkward now than he had done when he had been hovering outside. It had been a spur of the moment offer and now he had no idea what they were supposed to talk about. How did one go about starting a casual conversation with a dying woman?

“My name’s Belle.”

“Everyone calls me Gold.”

“Nice to meet you, Gold. It’s bone cancer, by the way. It’s in my spine and inoperable. Just thought I’d get that out there to save you wondering but not wanting to ask personal questions. You look like a gentleman like that.”

“Right. Thank you.” They sat in silence for a few minutes as Gold digested this, no knowing whether it had made things more or less awkward. The silence was companionable at least, and there was no huge rush to fill it. Perhaps, for Belle, knowing that she wasn’t alone was enough.

Presently she spoke. “So, you’re not from round here either?”

“Pardon?”

“Your accent. Scotland, right?”

Gold nodded. “Yes, although I haven’t lived there for over forty years.”

“It’s impressive that you’ve managed to keep your accent all this time. I’ve only been here eight years and I’m already picking up a twang.” 

Belle laughed, and it was good to hear it in such oppressive settings. Sometimes Gold felt that laughter was almost forbidden in these places, as if laughing and making the best and happiest time of the bleak situation was somehow not taking it seriously enough. Belle’s laugh was genuine and musical, and it was the most cheerful thing that Gold had heard in this area of the hospital on all his recent visits. 

“You’re from Australia originally, yes?”

“Right on the money. I grew up in Melbourne. I decided that I wanted to see the world, but then I fell in love with Boston and I ended up staying here. What about you? If you’ve been here for so long then I take it you didn’t have much choice in coming to America.”

“No, I came with my father. I was seven.”

“Do you ever want to go back?” There was a wistful tone in Belle’s voice, a yearning for a home that was now unreachable however much she might not have missed it before. 

“Not really. I was so young when I left, and I have no family there. My entire life is here in Boston. What about you? You must have more ties there.”

He didn’t want to ask about her family, not when she clearly didn’t have anyone here in Boston with her right now. 

Belle sighed. “It’s not so much the people I miss as the places. All the memories from my childhood, places where I used to get ice cream and stuff. I guess you just sort of get nostalgic sometimes, especially when it’s out of reach.”

Gold definitely wasn’t going to ask about her family now, and he wondered where to turn the conversation. Luckily, Belle seemed more than happy for him to talk about himself.

“How did you get into law? And specifically, law that takes you into palliative wards?”

He told her the story of how he had got into his particular line almost by accident, and he was amazed by how animatedly she listened, taking everything in and showing a genuine interest in something that most conversation partners decried as horrifically dull. 

“What about you?” he said eventually. “What do you do?”

It was strange to use the present tense when she clearly wasn’t doing anything and wouldn’t be doing it again in the future, but framing it as if everything was already over seemed callous, rubbing it in her face that her life was nearing its end and far before its time. As much as he did not like spending time in hospitals, and as much as his non-medical clients and colleagues might accuse him of harshness, he had picked up a lot in terms of tact. 

“I’m a librarian. I’ve always loved books. I think I love them more than people sometimes. Honestly, that’s been one of the things that’s annoyed me most about being in here. I can’t concentrate to read; the drugs make the words swim. Don’t get me wrong, I love the fact that the drugs take away the pain, but I’d really like to be able to read.”

Gold looked at the book resting on the nightstand. 

“Her Handsome Hero. I’ve never read it, what’s it about?”

“Oh, it’s my absolute favourite. You’d probably hate it, it’s full of romance and melodrama, but it’s a good adventure story too. There’s this young boy named Gideon, who discovers that he’s part of a prophecy and destined to be a great hero who’ll save the trapped princess.”

It certainly didn’t sound like Gold’s type of book, but it was good to see Belle so excited about it.

“I could read to you if you like.” Where was this offer coming from? He’d only just met the woman and she was going to think he was completely weird if he carried on in this vein. 

“Would you?” She took the book and held it out to him. “You probably think it’s silly, I mean, I’ve read it so many times that I can probably recite it word for word, but it never fails to transport me.”

Gold opened the first page of the book and began to read. He had no appointments for the rest of the afternoon; he could stay here until the nurses kicked him out if Belle wanted him to, and he found that he didn’t mind that prospect at all. 

He had read through the first chapter and was getting quite invested in the story when he looked up and saw that Belle had dropped off to sleep. Quietly, Gold closed the book and placed it on the nightstand, making to move away and leave her in peace. He was at the doorway when she spoke, her voice soft and sleepy.

“Will you come again?” she asked. “It’s really nice to have company.”

Gold nodded, although Belle’s eyes were still closed. “Of course.”

X

“They’re beautiful, thank you!”

Gold only realised once he had entered the room that he had nowhere to put down the large bunch of sunflowers that he had brought with him, and he stood there holding them awkwardly for a while until a passing nurse took pity on him and went to fetch a vase. 

“Well, everyone else has them, and I didn’t want you to be the odd one out. I thought that they might give you something a bit more interesting to look at.”

Belle nodded. “Yeah, I have to say that I’m not thrilled with the colour scheme in here.” She looked around at the teal walls. “Why is it always teal? Did a paint manufacturer overdo an order once and all the hospitals in the country decided to take advantage?”

“Definitely.” Gold sat down in the chair beside the bed, and he was surprised when Belle reached out and squeezed his hand. Her fingers were bony and there was not a lot of strength in her grip, but he squeezed back, being gifted with Belle’s wonderful smile in return. When she smiled, it was easy to forget just how ill she was. 

She stayed holding his hand for a long time whilst they talked, until she finally let go and Gold felt almost bereft. Belle picked up the book. 

“Would you read another chapter, please? I really like listening to your voice; you read aloud well.”

Gold took the book from her. “It would be my pleasure.”

They got into a routine over the next week or so. Gold would visit Belle in an afternoon and read to her until she fell asleep. Sometimes that took longer than others; there were occasions where he’d barely got a page or two in before she was back in an exhausted slumber, but sometimes they made it through a couple of chapters. It was one of Belle’s better afternoons when it happened. 

Gold didn’t know what had made him stop reading in the middle of a sentence, other than the look in Belle’s eyes. She was watching him, rather than staring off into the middle distance as she did so many times, imagining the events of the story unfolding in front of her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Belle shook her head with a smile. “Nothing. I think you like this book a lot more than you let on, you know.”

“Well, I don’t dislike it. It’s really not my style, but it’s not bad.”

“You say that every day.”

“It’s still true every day.”

Belle laughed, although there was a lot less power in it than there had been at the beginning of their acquaintance. Gold’s stomach churned; he didn’t want to think about that. 

“You know, I think it will grow on you.”

They fell into silence for a moment, just watching each other. Belle’s tongue darted out to lick her dry lips, and Gold found himself leaning in a little closer. She gave a little nod of encouragement, and he pressed his lips against hers. It was a soft kiss, dry and chaste, but it was given and received in something a little more than just friendship. 

Belle smiled as he broke away, a tired but happy smile. 

“Maybe no more for today,” she said, glancing at the book. “Tomorrow?”

Gold nodded. “Till tomorrow.”

X

Although Gold had known to expect it from the moment that he had first met Belle, and although he’d been feeling a deep sense of foreboding ever since their kiss, it did not stop him being completely unprepared for walking into the hospital that next afternoon and finding Belle’s room empty. 

“Mr Gold?”

He turned, ashen and unable to speak, to find the nurse who took care of Belle most often hovering behind him. Her Handsome Hero was clutched against her chest, and she held it out. 

“She wanted you to have this.”

They’d only got halfway through the story, and even though he’d admitted several times that it was definitely not his type of book, Gold wanted to know how it ended. He took it from the nurse, picking up the note that fell out. 

Dear Gold,

Astrid is writing this for me as my hands are shaking too much. I hope you enjoy the rest of the story, despite your reservations about the romance. 

Thank you so much for being here these last few days. You made me remember what it is to feel alive. Please don’t lose sight of that.

All my love and best wishes,

Belle

[psychoroach]

Ray Palmer blinked slowly, realizing he was in his lab. He looked down at himself, straightening his posture unconsciously in the rolling chair he was sitting in. He was in a dark grey t-shirt that had a black band around the neck and a pair of black jeans; normal for what he'd usually wear when he was in his lab. "I could've sworn I was in bed just now." He muttered. "Oh, well, as long as I'm here, I may as well get back to those repairs I was doing." He stood and walked over to where parts of his Atom suit were laid out and scanned over things, making a 'chchch' sound as he thought it over. He finally just grabbed the nearest part to him, a screwdriver, and started with what came to him first.

 When Ray got going, it was hard to break through his tech haze as Sara liked to call it. Usually it took Gideon flashing the lights, someone yelling his name, or someone coming up and taking the tool out of his hand to break him out of it. But when he heard the light footsteps behind him in the door way, he broke from the thoughts about what he needed to do next and turned, smiling when he saw Nate standing there. Nate smiled back at him and gave a small wave. He was in his normal suit that he wore at the Time Bureau, but the jacket was nowhere to be found. "Can't sleep?" Nate asked.

 Ray frowned at that and shrugged. "Actually, I could've sworn I <I>was</I> sleeping." He said honestly. "But then I found myself here, and I'm not feeling very tired anymore, so I figured I may as well be productive and get something done."

 "You've done it." Nate teased, grinning at him. "You've achieved sleep building. Well, subconsciously. I guess you wanted to be here, instead of sleeping so your body brought you here." Ray cocked his head almost like a confused puppy. 

"Wouldn't that just be sleep walking?"

 Nate shrugged, walking further into the room. "Yeah, I guess it would be." 

"What are you doing here?" Ray asked curiously. "Can't sleep either? Is it night time outside of the temperal zone?"

 "Yeah...I think." Nate frowned. "Actually, I don't know why I'm here. I'm not tired either, though. Do you want some help?"

 "Actually, yeah!" Ray said brightly. "You know I never mind a little help...well if the other person knows what they're doing anyway.  You definitely know what you're doing."

 "I know enough to help anyway." Nate said, amused. He slipped his tie off and put it over the back of one of the chairs in the room and rolled his sleeves up as he approached the table. "What are we doing?" 

Ray gestured to the arm gauntlet he had in front of him. "One of the metal pieces for the gauntlet came loose from the palm, I need to reattach it and make sure all the wiring isn't fried so I don't...get...performance issues."

 "Alright." Nate leaned over the other side of the table and grabbed the gauntlet, holding it for Ray, who swung over a large magnifying glass so he could use it to see the smaller circuitry inside the gauntlet. It was actually really helpful to have Nate there, because Ray could do what he needed to do a lot easier and not have to worry about holding the gauntlet steady, keeping it from rolling off the table and what not. "So how did this happen?" 

Ray paused in what he was doing, thinking it over. "Actually I'm not sure." He said honestly. "But I mean...wear and tear, you know? I need to do general maintenance on it every few weeks, if not more, it really just depends on how often I use it."

 "You don't really pay attention until it actually goes on the fritz." Nate teased. 

Ray flushed and shook his head. "No, I guess I really don't."

 Nate snickered. "I guess that makes sense." He said. "I mean, I don't need to do anything like this, I just...steel up or whatever. Not really any performance issues, thank God."

 Ray eyed him wryly. "Well isn't that good for you." 

Nate ducked his head, laughing quietly. "Sorry, Ray." 

"Sure you are." He teased, going back to work. 

A little while later, they'd moved on from the gauntlets to working on the torso of the suit, and Ray thought to himself he wasn't sure just how his suit had sustained so much damage, but they'd been there for hours and he wasn't sure they'd be done any time soon. He still wasn't tired either. Nate pulled away from where he was helping Ray with something and wiped at his forehead. He started unbuttoning his shirt, and looked at Ray curiously. "You mind?" 

"No, of course not." He ducked his head as Nate pulled the shirt off, leaving him barechested. He'd seen Nate shirtless before, that was nothing new, but he was a very attractive man and Ray would be lying if he said he didn't have some feelings for him. "Actually, it's pretty warm in here. That's strange, usually Gideon keeps it pretty temperature controlled in here." 

Nate looked around. "Yo, Gideon, are you trying to cook us to death?" He joked. 

Gideon didn't respond.

 Ray frowned. "That's strange. I don't think she's mad at me for anything, she shouldn't be giving me the silent treatment. I'll go check it out once we finish this." 

"Yeah God knows we don't need Gideon to be on the fritz, too." Nate agreed, and they forgot about it once they went back to work. Ray yelped when he pinched his thumb with a pair of plyers and pulled it away quickly, putting it to his mouth to suck on, as the offending tool clattered to the floor loudly. 

Nate startled and looked at him in concern. "Are you ok?"

 "Jus' hur's." Ray mumbled around his thumb, giving him what he thought was a comforting smile.

 Nate grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand to him, looking it over. "I think it's ok, it's not bleeding." He admitted. "I know that probably hurt like a bitch though." 

Ray laughed softly. "Startled me more than anything, I think my hands have so many blisters on them that I'm practically incapable of feeling any pain."

 "You got good hands, though, bro." Nate offered, grinning at him. "You'd never know you worked with them so much."

 Ray flushed. "Thanks." 

"You’re welcome." He finally let Ray's hand go and they went back to work. A little while later and it still felt like they weren't making much leeway, even though they'd managed to get some things done. It was like, when they finished one thing, something else popped up. Ray sighed and wiped his face. "Well I'm still not tired. However, I'm pretty sure Gideon wants us to be in a sweatbox." 

Nate snickered quietly. "Maybe she's mad at me. I mean...being away for so long. She could be programmed to be passive aggressive." 

Ray shook his head. "If anything, I should be the one that's mad." 

Nate frowned. "Wha...are you mad at me, Ray?" 

He sighed and wiped his face again. He took a page from Nate's book and stripped his shirt off, tossing it to the side. It only helped marginally. "I mean...I can't begrudge you time away, I guess. I understand why...but...you know, you're my bro. My dude. I...I've missed you. I've been through a lot, and I'm not really close to anyone here. I mean, Mick's into his writing, Sara spends a lot of time with Ava..." 

"You know you could've contacted me." He looked Ray over, unable to help it, chewing his lower lip briefly. "I would've made time for you." 

He smiled slightly, although it didn't really meet his eyes. "Nah, it...it's ok. You're busy doing, you know, Time Bureau stuff..."

 "Ray, no..." Nate frowned. "That's...that's not, true. Bro, I'd always make time for you...come here, fuck." He pulled Ray to him and hugged him tightly. "I'm sorry you've been feeling isolated. I never really...thought about it. I wish I knew, though. I swear I would've helped." 

Ray hugged him back, closing his eyes. "I know you would've, I know." He pulled back after a few seconds, and he looked at Nate's face. It was right there, closer than they'd been in a long time. He took a few seconds to look Nate over. He'd aged somewhat since the first time they met, but he was still a very attractive person and before Ray knew what was happening, their lips met. It wasn't the deepest kiss either man had ever had, especially not at first. But it sent sparks up Ray's spine and he shivered, goosebumps breaking out over his arms. Nate's lips were just this side of chapped, enough to drag over Ray's own, and Ray couldn't help but let out a quiet moan. When he realized what was happening, he pulled back quickly, eyes wide. "I am so sorry..." He blurted out. 

Nate took a deep breath, getting his bearings back, before he spoke. His voice was rougher than normal. "Why are you sorry?" 

"Because I just kissed you." Ray offered, running his fingers through his hair.

 "I never said I didn't want it." Nate pointed out, smiling softly at Ray. He stared back at him, his brain stuttering as he tried to process those words. 

"You...really?" 

He smiled and shrugged. "I mean, you're a very attractive man, and I can't say that...my feelings have always been platonic when it came to you."

 "What can you say?" Ray asked quietly, his own voice wrecked, his chest heaving as he breathed deeper. 

"I can say...I wouldn't mind kissing you again." Nate said with a playful smile. "Among...other things." 

Ray smiled back at him. "What are those other things?" He asked, running his hands down Nate's sides. It suddenly felt cooler in the room, more room temperature and Ray didn't feel like he was boiling to death anymore; however, he did feel like his heart would race out of his chest at any second. 

"I think it's better I show you." He said, kissing Ray again. He hugged him closer and both men moaned when their bodies writhed against each other, the friction only serving to make them both so hard neither of them could think straight. 

Nate gently pushed at Ray until he got the hint and moved back, Nate climbing on top of him as he laid on his back. Nate slotted between his legs, and Ray's leg bent at the knee as Nate ground his hips into Ray's. They kissed for several minutes until Nate broke away, both men gasping for breath. He looked down at Ray's flushed body and bit his lower lip as he took in the sight. "Fuck...anyone ever tell you, you could make a recovering alcoholic fall off the wagon?" 

Ray laughed. "What does that mean?"

 "Hell if I know." Nate admitted, laughing himself. He leaned in and kissed Ray's jaw and down his neck, his hands on Ray's hips. 

Ray arched up into him as he took one of Ray's nipples into his mouth and sucked on it. Hard. He smirked when Ray let out a litany of curses and moved to give the same treatment to the other one. Then he moved down and kissed down Ray's stomach, feeling the other man's muscles squirming under his lips. It made him feel powerful in a way, that he was able to do this to him. He allowed himself a brief smile before he deftly popped the button on Ray's pants, slowly dragging the zipper down. He raised an eyebrow up at Ray when he saw nothing but bare skin and the hint of pubic hair. Ray flushed even more and squirmed. "These pants are too tight for underwear, uh, as a rule I don't...wear...I don't like them."

 "Good to know. So...want to help me figure out how to get you out of these pants?" Nate asked. 

Ray sat up enough that he could pull his shoes off, tossing them wherever they landed. Then he hooked his fingers in his pants and pushed them down enough that Nate could playfully shove him back down and finish the job. He'd heard from Sara, who heard from Felicity one drunken night, that Ray was well endowed. But to be faced with it (literally) made Nate's breathing speed up in anticipation. He looked up at Ray, who was looking back at him with a mix of embarrassment, hesitation and pure lust and it sent a heady feeling shooting through Nate and unconsciously he wrapped his hand around Ray's dick, giving it a few experimental pumps. The moan he let out startled Nate, but then he realized he wanted to hear more of it, so he sped up a little bit, putting a little twist near the top, slowing down near the bottom. 

"God, Nate." Ray moaned, his head thrown back. "Please...please..." Nate chuckled quietly, rubbing Ray's side lightly. Then he took a deep breath and took Ray in as deep as he could. He couldn't fit all of him into his mouth, but he compensated by using his hand in time with his sucking motions. He'd given a few blowjobs in his life, when you grow up a hemophiliac, you have to do what you can and sex isn't always an option, and he was pretty good at it if he said so himself...at least he'd never had any complaints from anyone, and Ray seemed to be enjoying himself. 

Ray ran his fingers through Nate's hair, trying to quell the urge to grab his head and fuck into him. He knew he was a lot to take, and he didn't want to hurt Nate in any way. Nate found that it was a lot easier, once he got into things and he looked up at Ray through his lashes and when he saw the look on Ray's face, he grabbed Ray's other hand and put it into Nate's hair, giving him permission, which sent a thrill through both men. "Are...are you sure?" Ray stuttered a bit, his feet flexing when Nate gave a pretty particularly hard suck. Taking that as permission he grabbed Nate's hair harder, mussing it up as he did so. He gave Nate a second to relax himself and his throat before he started pistoning his hips up, fucking himself into Nate's mouth. Both men let out loud moans and Ray felt like he was pretty close to Heaven. All of the things they were doing, he'd only ever done in his filthiest of fantasies, so to be doing them then felt like...more. 

Like all of those fantasies amped up by a million or so. It was an indescribable feeling and Ray was glad the had an eidetic memory so he could remember it for as long as he lived. After a little while, Ray had to pull Nate off of him. 

Undaunted, Nate kissed a path away from Ray's dick, down the juncture where his pelvis met his thigh and down even further. "I want you to fuck me." He said, his voice rougher than normal because of his previous actions.

 "Wh...what? Are you sure?" Ray looked down at Nate wide eyed. What he saw was pure unadulterated lust and he couldn't help but run his thumb over Nate's lower lip in an almost fond gesture, smiling softly at him.

 "Hell yes, I'm sure." Nate blurted out immediately. "Please...I...I need you. I don't care how big...I need it, I want...I want to feel that connection with you." 

"Alright. I...I need..." Ray sat up and opened a drawer, pulling out a condom and a bottle of lube, and Nate raised an eyebrow.

 "Come prepared? You have a lot of sex here?" He asked, half curious.

 Ray flushed and shook his head. "I don't know why this is here." He said honestly, before smiling at him. "But hey, convenient right?" 

"Right." He agreed and he moved back so Ray could sit up and move. He let Ray move him so that he was on his hands and knees. 

"Just for now." He promised. "Easier access." When Ray moved behind him, Nate wasn't sure what to expect at first, but the first swipe of Ray's tongue on his hole made him let out a wild moan, throwing his head back. His fist clenched, searching for purchase on the floor as Ray started eating his ass. It was unlike any other feeling he'd ever felt before and he wanted more, encouraging Ray to keep going.

 After what simultaneously felt like a few minutes, and hours, Ray slowly slid in one finger, up to the knuckle. He took his time slowly stretching Nate out, finger by finger and by the time he was done, Nate was moaning almost continuously, begging brokenly for Ray to keep going, more, more, more.

 Ray slid on the condom, surprised that it was the exact size he needed and added plenty of lube, stroking himself a few times. He looked down at Nate and made a face, shaking his head. He moved so that he was on his back and tapped Nate on the thigh to get his attention. "Ride me." He said, not realizing the impact the words would have on Nate.

 "Shit." He blurted out and he moved quickly. He swung his leg over Ray's torso, facing him. He scooted back and with Ray's help he managed to hold his ass so that Ray could slip in.

 It took a few minutes, even with Ray preparing him, but when Nate finally was able to sink down all the way on him, both men had to take a few seconds to catch their breaths and calm down so that things weren't over too quickly. 

Once he felt like he was ok, Nate moved. He slid as far up as he could, using his thighs for leverage and back down. His head fell back, eyes closed as he slowly fucked himself down on Ray's cock. It felt amazing and Nate felt like a blubbering mess, the words falling from his lips barely words. 

Ray grabbed his hips and rested his hands there, wanting more contact with Nate than where their bodies were connected. 

Sometime later Nate's legs were straining in the position and he pulled Ray up, both of them managing to maneuver without Ray slipping out of him. Once Ray was between Nate's legs, Nate on his back, Ray fucked into him a little harder, developing a rhythm. Ray felt like he was going deeper with each thrust, than he had been in the previous position and it felt incredible. His mouth was open, sucking in air as he fucked into Nate, his whole body flushed, sweat pooling under the both of them. 

Nate squeezed him and begged for 'more' 'harder' and Ray was a little wary, but when Nate squeezed his ass and urged him on, he gave into the temptation. His hips sped up and he slammed them into Nate’s ass, grunting loudly as their skin slapped together deliciously, which turned him on even more.

 Nate writhed under him, and for a second Ray thought he was hurting him and he slowed down slightly. "If you even fucking think of it I'll kill you in your sleep." Nate said quickly. 

Ray was taken aback, but he chuckled weakly and sped up again, gripping Nate's legs tightly, knowing he'd probably have bruises the next day. Ray was pretty sure his pelvis would have some bruises as well. He was ok with that. 

Nate gasped when Ray grabbed his dick and started jerking him off. He was close, so close, and had been for a few minutes. He didn't want this to end, but he thought maybe after this it could be a beginning for both of them. "Ray, Ray, I'm gonna..." 

Ray opened his eyes quickly, groaning quietly when he realized he was in his bed, in his room. He put a hand on his bare chest, feeling his heart beating quickly. He tried to not feel too upset that it was just a dream, he'd had them before. But this time it just felt different in a way he couldn't put his finger on. He stilled when an arm came over his waist and he turned his head, looking at Nate, who put his head on Ray's shoulder.

 "What are you doing up?" He mumbled. "Are you ok?" He ran his hand down and rubbed Ray's stomach. "You...you're so tense."

 "Just a weird dream, I'm ok." Ray promised, a little taken aback. He wasn't sure what was going on, but figured he was just disoriented from the dream...or maybe a concussion he'd sustained that he didn't know about, and resolved to bring it up with Gideon later.

 Nate maneuvered Ray onto his back and when Nate moved on top of him, Ray was keenly aware that both of them were naked, which he hadn't noticed at first and he instinctively ground his hips into Nate's, gasping at the friction it caused. 

Nate smirked at him. "I know what'll make you feel better." He said huskily.

 "Yes, please!" Ray blurted out quickly. 

Nate sat back on his haunches, knees bent and he pulled Ray down toward him, almost laying on his thighs. It bent Ray a little at an angle, but he didn't mind as he felt Nate's hard dick against him. He let Nate bend him a little more and when he felt him enter him, both men let out loud moans. 

Nate, once Ray was fully seated on him, moved his hands from Ray's ass up his sides. He grabbed Ray's hands in his and in an intimate gesture, linked their fingers together. 

Ray felt himself tearing up a bit as they started moving together, the actions more intimate than the wildness of his dreams and he sat up a bit when Nate leaned down and their lips met in a kiss that drove the air from Ray's lungs from the intimacy of it. He squeezed both of Nate's hands and mused to himself that if he died right then, he'd at least be really happy.

 Nate smiled into the kiss and nuzzled against him once he pulled back. "I love you, sweetheart." 

"I love you, too, Nate." Ray said quietly, and the tears came as he felt himself getting close to his release. 

Ray sat up in his bed gasping for air. He looked around his room, but nothing was amiss. He put a hand on the front of his pajama shirt, the blue one since it was Tuesday, and frowned. A dream within a dream, that was a new one.

 His head felt a little swimmy and foggy at the same time and he scooted back so that he could rest his back against the headboard as he tried to make sense of everything that was going on. "Dr. Palmer, if I may..." Gideon broke through his thoughts. "It seems as if Kamadeva managed to...use his powers in a very...invasive way. Captain Lance wants everyone at the bridge and requests you come quickly incase Mr. Rory tries to find out just how immortal a god Kamadeva is."

 "Shit!" Ray got out of bed quickly and shoved his feet into his slippers. "Also please remind me later to find Nate...I have something I need to say to him."

 "Of course, Dr. Palmer." Gideon answered as Ray raced out of the room, hearing Mick growling loudly and Sara's loud voice trying to calm him down.  

[nikkalia]

Gotta Get It Right: Dinner and a Show

TITLE: Gotta Get It Right

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 14

SUMMARY: Aleksa lived as an Inhuman at SHIELD's beckon call, but dreams of another life have her questioning everything she’d ever known. Just when she settled into a life of peace and quiet, she's called back to duty. Enter Loki.

PAIRING: Loki/OFC RATING: Mature NOTES/WARNINGS: Just language, mentions of PTSD and torture

Tumblr masterlist Also on Ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/15409323/chapters/43756231

Feedback is always appreciated (just being an attention whore screaming for comments/reblogs)

Tags: @christy-winchester @hovianwookie86-captainxev @wolfsmom1  @fadingcoast  @mrshiddleston-uk  @igotloki  @fandom-and-feminism  @mischievousbellerina  @odinsonsobsessed

Loki pushed Aleksa’s chair in before seating himself. A servant appeared from the shadows, pouring mead into golden goblets.

“Thank you,” Aleksa said softly, bringing shocked looks from the servant and Loki. “What?” The servant struggled for an answer before looking to his master, who dismissed him with a wave after his own cup was filled. “Seriously? You don’t acknowledge the people that are working for you? I thought Asgard was sooooo much more enlightened than that. Do you even know their names?”

“Those that serve in this palace are to be neither seen nor heard. It is honor enough for them to be selected for a position on the staff and...”

“Bloody hell.” She stood and moved to the servant. “What’s your name?”

The wine steward was paralyzed in fear. His gaze shot to Loki and Aleksa stepped to block it. “I...uh...Beiner, madam.”

Aleksa turned to the maid standing next to him. “And yours?”

“I-Ingun, my lady.”

“Ingun. Beiner. Thank you both. Your work is appreciated,” she glared at Loki, “even if that appreciation is never expressed.” The servants shot each other looks of awe as Aleksa resumed her seat, muttering. “How in the hells do you expect to have the respect of your people if you can’t even acknowledge their existence? You’re no better than they are.”

Loki searched for the proper response. Odin all but forbade communication with the servants unless it was absolutely necessary, and even then he spoke with the same venom he afforded his adopted son. Loki never considered any other behavior towards the staff possible, much less appropriate.

“Perhaps it is a tradition that bears updating,” was all he could come up with.

Aleksa rolled her eyes and turned her focus to the plate before her. The platter was filled with several small slices of meats and cheeses, vegetables, and a chunk of bread. Other dishes on the tables held more of the same, accompanied by various fruits and loaves. The thought of devouring everything in front of her crossed her mind, followed by a wave of nausea that reminded her of her restricted abilities. Despite her hunger, she’d have to take it slowly or risk leaving a mess for Beiner and Ingun to clean up later.

Loki had already begun to eat, albeit cautiously. This early exchange of power, or so it seemed to him, appeared out of nowhere and he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. Or of the woman sitting across from him. She seemed to be evaluating the food set before her. Was she considering the possibility of poison, or perhaps mind-altering drugs? He felt compelled to take his bites intentionally as if to convince her that the food was safe until her pace slowed to a stop.

“Is the meal not to your liking?”

“Hmm?”

“You’ve barely touched your plate. If the food is not satisfactory, I can...”

“It’s fine,” she snapped, dropping her fork onto the plate. She pinched the bridge of her nose before blowing out a sharp breath. “I...I’m sorry. There’s nothing wrong with the food.”

“The company, perhaps?”

Loki spoke so softly that Aleksa barely heard him. “I’ve had worse.” She leaned back, rubbing the skin beneath the bracelets. “I’m still...adjusting to these.”

“Perhaps, in time, the need for those will be eliminated.” He resumed his meal, aware of her gaze focused on him.

“What, exactly, do you plan to do with me?”

“Are we beginning our interview?” Loki paused to take a drink. “I’ve not yet established my terms.” Aleksa groaned in response. “Don’t worry. You may find that my terms are as much to your benefit as they are to mine.”

“And it’s always about your benefit, isn’t it?”

“It is good to be the king,” he grinned. “No question should be asked before the one prior is answered to the asker’s satisfaction.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re never going to be satisfied with any of my answers.”

Loki chuckled. “Satisfaction is not in my nature, pet.”

“I won’t tell you again,” she growled, a hand moving toward the knife. “Don’t call me that.”

“No promises.” The glare he received was strangely arousing. “We will continue until all questions are answered or we’ve exhausted ourselves for the evening. Have you any ground rules for our discussion?”

“I would say no lying, but I don’t suppose I have any real way to tell if you’re trying to deceive me or not.”

“Allow me to offer a gesture of good faith, then.” Loki produced her dog tags and placed them on the table. "Oh," he added, tossing a trio of tiny vials in her direction, "these are also yours. Whyever would you consciously choose to carry Kree blood within you?"

She reached for the tags, sliding the chain around her neck before picking up a vial. Memories of their implantation tore through her consciousness, her own screams echoing in her ears. The burning sensations that consumed her body returned, accompanied by the smell of turmeric that somehow permeated the first terrigenesis cocoon. It lasted for months, leaving her a near zombie when she finally emerged. Everything hurt, even the energy she relied on. It was only the beginning of her torture.

Aleksa became aware of Loki’s gaze steady upon her, the concern it held living somewhere between compassion and fear. “I didn’t,” she whispered. “Where did you find them?”

“One was positioned near your heart. The other two on either side of your spine at the base of your skull. A kill switch for an errant pet, I presume.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” She slammed the knife blade into the table, millimeters from Loki’s hand. He only raised an eyebrow. “Use that word again and we’re done.”

His eyes moved slowly from the blade to her face, surprised by the calm he found there. “As you wish,” he whispered. “For now.” Aleksa returned to her seat. “Are we agreed?”

“Fine.” She nodded, mindlessly massaging her wrists. “You first, I assume.”

“Indeed.” Loki reached for his cup, drinking slowly as he considered his words. She began to absently pick at the plate in front of her, and something tore at his heart. “Actually, no. You posed a question that I failed to answer.” Aleksa looked up from her food. “What, exactly, do I plan to do with you?”

She watched him take another drink when he paused, waiting for her reaction. “Well?”

“I’ve not yet made a full decision.” She started to respond when he held up a hand. “What I have determined is that you will be brought out of the dungeons and given rooms here. You will begin training with our Seider masters to regain control over your abilities and learn their proper usage. I am considering allowing you to engage in other activities, but for now, this seems enough.”

Aleksa bit back the instinct to question further. He’d given more information than she expected but not everything she wanted, and she knew he was holding back. By the same token, she was desperate to keep him distracted as she worked to decipher the energies that kept her power in check.

“Are you satisfied with the answer?”

She met his gaze. Was there...hope in his eyes? “It’ll do.”

“Very well. Why were you sent to retrieve the Tesseract?”

“You don’t waste any time, do you?” She swallowed hard, garnering a glare from him. “I suppose ‘it’s classified’ would be enough of an answer?”

The glare darkened. “No.”

“Of course not.” The sigh that escaped her lips stopped Loki’s continued protest. “I had multiple sets of orders. Rescue the team and their research if possible. They were the priority.”

“We’ve already discussed this.” His tone matched his eyes. “And you’re not holding up your end of the bargain.”

“Then let me finish.” she snapped. “Get the team and their data were my orders from SHIELD. The order to get the cube came from someone else.”

“Not Fury? Curious. Who was it?” He leaned closer, growling. “Who?”

“Gideon Malick.”

Loki laughed. “Do you think me so stupid as to not know the players on that pathetic little planet? Malick is the Director of the World Security Council. He gives Fury...”

“Oh shut up!” she shouted, the force knocking over the goblets on the table. “You don’t know nearly as much as you think you do, your Highness. Malick comes from a long line of HYDRA worshippers. Last I heard, he was their undisputed leader. He’s playing both sides.”

“And so were you, it seems.”

“I know where my loyalties lie.” She sighed again, feeling the power in her body a bit closer to balance. “So does Nick.”

“And Malick?”

“He’s not interested in loyalty.” She toyed with the vial closest to her, speaking absently. “All he wants is power. The more, the better.”

“The Tesseract.” She nodded, trading the vial for a piece of fruit. Loki leaned back in his seat, arching his fingers in contemplation. It seemed that Midgard was going to continue to provide a bit of entertainment for some time. As was the woman across from him.  

Aleksa chewed slowly, staring at the vials on the table, losing herself in memory.

“It’s not permanent, Colonel. Merely an insurance policy. You bring back the cube, I remove the vials. An easy mission for someone of your unique talents.”

“And if I fail?”

“You’ll go out in a blaze of glory, preferably on Asgard.” The sinister grin sickened her. “Or your heart will explode in your chest. Either way, you’ll be just another soldier lost to PTSD.”

“Not before I kill you.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Wha-” She blinked, finding Loki’s wide eyes fixed on her glowing hand. “Fuck,” she whispered, forcing the power to dissipate into the air. “Why do you do that?”

“I didn’t.”

“I meant screwing with my head. Why plant memories, trigger...this?”

“I had nothing to do with whatever you just experienced,” he pointed to her hand.

“Gods dammit Loki, what in the hells have you done to me?”

“Nothing.” Her chair went flying as she leapt up, leaning over the table. “While it is within my abilities to trigger flashes of individual experience, I do not possess the power to generate and implant full recollections. So this is decidedly not my doing.” He spoke softly, hoping to defuse her frustration. “My guess is that you are experiencing the restoration of your own memories as your mind continues to heal. Whether this comes from your exposure to the Tesseract or something else, I can’t say.”

“Now I know you’re lying.”

“I know what it is to have your thoughts bent and twisted to someone else’s will.” He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly to calm his own nerves, wondering if he’d overestimated his ability to control her. “I am capable of a great many things, but I would never inflict that experience on another creature.” Their eyes locked, giving him pause. “Ever.”

Her head dropped as he rose, lifting the chair back to its original position. Loki stood next to her, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest, scarcely able to hear her whispers about fear passing through her. He barely touched her back when she spoke.

“I’m fine.” Low, even, and a little forced.

“Now who’s lying?” She straightened herself, looking at him with a smirk, and a soft smile crossed his face. “Do you wish to continue, or would you like to end our interview for the evening?”

Aleksa’s mouth opened to reply but closed without a sound and a shake of her head. “Yeah, I don’t have the mental capacity necessary to keep up with you at the moment.”

“Then we will continue another time. One of the servants will see you to the guest chambers for the evening.” His speech was cut off by a loud growl originating in Aleksa’s stomach. “Along with something more to eat.”

Her face turned sheepish. “Thanks.”  

“Rest well, little one. Your training will begin in the morning.”

She followed Ingun to the door, stopping just short of it to turn and face him. “I do have one question I’d like to have answered now.”

“Which is?”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were showing compassion towards a prisoner. Why?”

Loki approached slowly, sliding his hands behind his back. “Because you are my guest, not a prisoner. I much prefer to think of you as a potential ally. And,” he hesitated for a moment, noticing a few strands of silver mixed into her red hair, “I always take care of my allies.”

They stared at one another for a moment, each trying to read the other. Aleksa finally decided that she needed rest more than anything and nodded before returning to her path out of the library. Loki watched her exit his suite, a smile slowly crossing his face.

[singledarkshade]

A New Life

Summary: An accident in Star Labs leads to Gideon becoming human. Rip is there to help her learn about life in her new form while Jonas wants everyone to meet her. An Alternate Universe Timeship story for Life After A Miracle series. Author’s Note: I couldn't help myself and had to write this when I had the idea. Set somewhere within the Settling In timeline. Enjoy.                                 ********************************************* The ringing in his ears finally stopped and Rip managed to pull himself to a stand. He spotted Harry on the ground across the lab shaking his head trying to get his bearings.

Rip offered his hand, “You okay?”

Harry took the help to get to his feet, “I think we might have made a mistake with the calculations.”

“Possibly,” Rip replied wryly before calling, “Gideon, give me an update on the rest of the team.” He frowned when he received no reply, “Gideon? Gideon, answer me?” Panic began to build when she didn’t talk to him, “Gideon?” At the silence he shook his head, “No, no, no, no,” he stopped when Harry grabbed his arms.

“Calm down,” Harry ordered, “Anything could have happened. It could just be a disconnection in her speech functions.”

“Rip,” Cisco’s voice came suddenly, “You need to get up to the infirmary now.”

The two men shared a confused look before running, reaching the room Rip skidded to a halt and Harry slammed into him. They stared in astonishment at the woman lying on the bed unconscious while Caitlin performed some checks.

Rip tried to say something as he stared at the woman but couldn’t quite find the words.

“Who is she?” Harry broke the silence.

Cisco and Caitlin both winced looking at Rip who was still staring speechless.

“It’s Gideon,” Rip finally managed to say.

Harry stared at him before looking at the woman and back at Rip, “Gideon?” he pointed to the ceiling, “As in Gideon, Gideon.”

They all nodded.

Rip slowly moved to the bed and looked down at the unconscious woman on the bed. He reached out to gently brush a lock of hair back from her face before looking up at Caitlin, “Is she okay?”

“As far as I can tell she’s perfectly healthy,” Caitlin told him.

Rip nodded before turning his attention back to Gideon who let out a soft sigh suddenly, “Gideon,” he called, his hand resting on her cheek, “Gideon, its okay. You’re safe.”

Her eyes fluttered open and she looked up at him with a sigh, “Captain?”

“I’m here,” Rip breathed softly.

She smiled sleepily before her eyes widened and panic filled them, “No,” she cried holding out her arms staring in shock at them, “No.”

Everyone flinched when several lights exploded while Gideon screamed panicked.

“Gideon,” Rip called, pulling her close to him, “Calm down. You need to calm down.”

“I...I...” she stuttered her fingers gripping his T-shirt as he held her close.

Rip rocked her, softly hushing tucking her against him tightly, “Come on, Gideon just take a few deep breaths for me,” he smiled when she shakily followed his instructions, “That’s it. That’s my girl. Deep breaths.”

Gideon’s breathing became normal but she still held onto Rip who hadn’t released his hold on her.

“Better?” Rip asked, gently rubbing circles on her back.

Gideon looked up at him and Rip saw the beautiful storm-grey eyes he’d only ever seen in his mindscape, “I don’t understand, Captain. I shouldn’t be like this.”

“I can’t explain,” Rip murmured rocking gently, “But we’ll work this out. Okay?”

She nodded against his chest closing her eyes as she rested against him.

“Rip,” Caitlin interrupted a few minutes later, “It’s nearly time to pick up Jonas. Do you want one of us to go?”

“No,” Gideon spoke up, “Jonas is more important.”

Rip hesitated for a moment before he nodded, “I will be back soon.”

Gideon squeezed his hand, “I am looking forward to meeting him face to face.”

Rip kissed her forehead, “He’s going to love you.”

  Jonas came charging out of the school making Rip smile.

“What’s this?” he asked when Jonas thrust a piece of paper at him excitedly. He read it quickly, understanding his son’s enthusiasm instantly, “A city wide science fair with some of the school projects being entered.”

“Miss Meadows said mine is going to be in it,” Jonas bounced.

Rip grinned, “That’s wonderful. I’m so proud of you.”

Jonas beamed back, “And Cisco can come and Caitlin and Lisa and Harry...”

“Okay,” Rip cut him off taking his hand to start them walking to the car, “I know they will all want to come.”

“Can I tell Mr Donaldson when we get to the shop?” Jonas asked when he climbed into the car making Rip wince slightly.

“I’m sorry, Jonas I know I promised we’d go to the shop after school today,” he said feeling guilty at the look of disappointment on his son’s face, “But something has happened that I need to go back to Star Labs for.”

“Okay,” Jonas sighed.

Rip squeezed his son’s hand before clipping him into his seatbelt, “There’s something I want you to see there anyway. And you can tell Cisco all about the science fair.”

A smile touched Jonas’ lips and Rip smiled back climbing into the drivers’ seat heading to the lab hoping that Gideon was alright.

  Gideon sat on the bed examining her hands wondering how the nails were so perfect when she’d just come into being. She didn’t feel as safe as she had when her Captain had her in his embrace, the warmth of his body against hers while she heard the beating of his heart. It was a sensation she never believed she would feel.

Mr Ramon and Dr Wells had left with her Captain to check the rest of the building after the explosion as well as to try to work out how she had come into being. Dr Snow was sitting close by checking the results of the tests she had performed on Gideon’s new body.

“Here,” a glass of water was set on the small table in front of her by Dr Snow, “I want you to drink this. I’m going to get you something to eat then I want to do a few more tests just to make sure everything is alright now you’re...”

“Human,” Gideon finished for her softly before adding, “Thank you, Dr Snow.”

“Caitlin,” she corrected squeezing Gideon’s shoulder, “We’re family remember.”

Her cheeks began to heat up, much to her bemusement, she was relieved when the other woman left her. Alone in the room Gideon took some time to explore the body she had. Examining the pale skin and the long flowing brown hair, the strange feelings when she drew her finger softly across the back of her hand, looking at her legs and the way her toes curled.

Sliding her fingers across where her Captain had kissed her Gideon smiled. Even if this was only temporary she would get to experience how it felt to be human for a while. She would be able to hug her Captain properly, the way he had once told her he sometimes wished she could.

                                  *********************************************

  Rip listened to Jonas chatter about his day at school as they walked into the lab. He grimaced at the mess the place was in after their ‘little accident’ earlier that day. Reaching the infirmary Rip smiled seeing Gideon sitting on the bed, now dressed in a pair of leggings and Star Labs sweater.

“Gideon!!” Jonas cried before Rip could say anything.

Rip turned to him, “You know her?”

Jonas nodded, “I’ve seen her in my dreams.”

Stunned he watched Jonas run over and climb onto the bed beside the now human AI. Gideon hesitantly wrapped her arms around the little boy who attached himself to her in a tight hug.

“How is she?” Rip asked Caitlin while Jonas started telling Gideon all about the science fair.

Caitlin smiled, “She’s completely healthy. I’ve found no information on why she’s suddenly human but Cisco and Harry are looking into it further. I’ve pulled together some clothes for her to use for the next few days.”

Rip reached out wrapping an arm around Caitlin in a brief hug, “Thank you.”

He headed over to the bed not seeing the smile on Caitlin’s lips that he had initiated a hug with her something even a few months before he would never do.

“Captain,” Gideon smiled when he joined them, Jonas still holding her.

“Well Caitlin said you can leave,” he said, frowning at the panic that covered her face,

“What’s wrong?”

Gideon looked up at him with wide eyes, “Where will I go?”

Rip stared at her confused but it was Jonas who answered, “You come home with us.”

“I do?”

“Of course,” Rip rested his hand on her shoulder, “It’s always been your home too.”

  The house was different seeing it like this. Although Gideon didn’t get a chance to hesitate because Jonas had a hold of her hand pulling her inside.

“Okay,” Rip said, “Jonas, get your homework out and I’ll be down to help once Gideon is settled.”

The little boy nodded and Gideon followed Rip up the stairs.

“I know this room is a little bare,” Rip said leading her into the small bedroom, “But you can fix it up however you want.”

“If this is permanent,” Gideon noted.

Rip caught her hand and pulled her into an embrace, “We will deal with this. Okay?”

“Yes, Captain Hunter,” she replied, making him chuckle.

Resting his head against hers Rip murmured, “You might want to try using my name, Gideon. Now you’re human.”

Her cheeks began to burn again and she was relieved that he was hugging her so he didn’t see.

“Daddy, I’m ready,” Jonas’ voice interrupted them.

Rip pulled back and pressed a kiss to her forehead, “I’ll call you for dinner.”

When he left Gideon stood in the middle of the room. She placed the bag Caitlin had given her when she left Star Labs on the bed. Opening it she found a few changes of clothes along with a pair of pyjamas. Caitlin had also included a note giving the clothing sizes for her body. Turning to the full-sized mirror on the wall Gideon slid off the clothes she was wearing and studied her body. As an AI she had been aware of how humans looked when they wore no coverings but seeing her own body was strange.

After several minutes studying her new form fully Gideon redressed and pulled the brush through her hair finding she liked the feel of the bristles. With nothing to do she decided to head to the living area, perhaps she could help with dinner or Jonas with his homework.

Walking down the stairs she stood on the bottom step watching Rip and Jonas sitting at the dining room table working through the boy’s homework for the night. It was such a wonderful sight to see the man she’d watched over for so long with the son he adored. After all the heartache he had endured it was good to see him happy.

  Rip looked up from helping Jonas work through his homework to see Gideon standing watching them. He motioned her to join them.

“We’ll be finished soon,” he told her, “Why don’t you relax?”

He forced himself not to laugh at the way Gideon stiffly sat on the couch trying not to disturb them. It took another twenty minutes to finish the problems Jonas had. Rip helped him pack his work away, sending Jonas to put it in its place in the hallway before letting him go join Gideon on the couch. It was comforting that the little boy seemed to have no problem accepting the fact that Gideon was now in human form despite always knowing her as an AI.

Leaving them alone watching cartoons Rip headed into the kitchen to make them all dinner.

In hindsight something a little easier to eat than spaghetti would have been a better idea for Gideon who had never used the utensils before.

Rip did his best not to laugh at the mess she ended up in, giving her a gentle squeeze on her shoulder when he couldn’t hold it in anymore making Jonas laugh as well.

She cleaned herself and changed into the pyjamas she had been given before joining them again for their movie that night.

Rip could see she wasn’t sure of her place with them, reaching out he tugged her across the couch so she was sitting on Jonas’ other side.

  “Daddy, can Gideon read my story tonight?” Jonas asked when he was told it was time for bed.

Surprise covered Gideon’s face at the request and she turned to her Captain hoping his feelings weren’t hurt by this, surprised to find him smiling.

“If Gideon doesn’t mind,” he said.

“Of course not,” Gideon assured the boy, “I would love to.”

Rip grinned before tapping his son’s arm, “Go get ready for bed and we’ll be up in a minute.”

Jonas nodded before scrambling away.

“Are you upset that he has requested that I read to him?” Gideon asked worriedly.

Rip laughed shaking his head, “Of course not. I’m just giving him some time to get changed since he’s now a big boy and doesn’t need my help anymore.”

“That makes you sad,” Gideon said softly, her hand moving to stroke his cheek.

He leaned into her hand confessing, “A little.” They sat in silence for a few minutes before Rip stood catching her hand pulling her to her feet, “Come on, he’ll be in bed and waiting for his story.”

Gideon allowed him to lead her up the stairs, entering Jonas’ bedroom they took a seat on either side of his bed and Rip handed her the book they were in the middle of. She enjoyed listening to her Captain read to his son, his voice became beautifully melodic and it always captured her.

But tonight was her turn. Clearing her throat she began to read, smiling at the way Jonas cuddled close to her. When she finished the chapter Rip took the book returning it to its place before he kissed his son’s head.

“Goodnight,” he murmured to the boy, “I love you.”

“Night, Daddy I love you,” Jonas replied before he turned to her, “Goodnight, Gideon I love you.”

A wave of warmth filled her and Gideon kissed the boy’s forehead whispering without thought, “I love you too.”

  Gideon lay in the bed she was using trying to sleep but not able to because sleep was a completely foreign concept to her. Throwing back the covers she thought of what she would normally do throughout the night and decided that was probably what she needed to do before she would be able to relax. Sliding off the bed Gideon walked quietly to Jonas’ bedroom to check on him. She stood in the doorway just watching the little boy sleep curled around his pillow. He resembled his mother so much when he was asleep whereas he always seemed more like Rip when awake.

Assured the boy was resting comfortably Gideon left the room turning to the one which held her slumbering Captain. Opening the door, she smiled to see him sleeping in the middle of the bed, she knew how long it took him to do so. She loved to watch him sleep so deeply, he hadn’t always, and Gideon was happy he’d found peace.

“Gideon?” his sleep filled voice pulled her back to the room seeing him sit up, “Are you okay?”

Heat covered her cheeks again, “I’m sorry,” she stammered, wincing when he switched the lamp on.

Rubbing his hand over his face he motioned her inside, “Close the door so we don’t disturb Jonas.”

Gideon closed the door leaning against it as he watched her.

“Come here,” Rip slid out of bed and wrapped his arm around Gideon moving her so she was sitting on the edge of the bed beside him, “What’s wrong?”

Gideon frowned not sure what to say, not sure how to explain it to him but she didn’t have to as he suddenly asked, “Can’t sleep?”

Sighing Gideon shook her head smiling when he hugged her close, “It is not something I am used to. I’m...” she hesitated trying to find the right word, “Afraid.”

Rip hugged her tighter pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, “Do you want to stay here with me?”

Gideon nodded before asking worriedly, “Is that appropriate?”

“Will it make you feel better?”

She nodded again.

“You’re my Gideon,” he reminded her, “It’s no one else’s business.”

At his reassurance she smiled slightly. Rip drew back the covers allowing her to get in one side. Sliding back into bed Rip switched the lamp off before gathering Gideon close to him. She tucked her head just beneath his chin, sliding her arm around his waist and took several deep breaths. With Rip’s warmth against her and his hand gently stroking her back, Gideon fell asleep listening to his heartbeat.

                                  *********************************************

  Rip woke feeling a warm soft body pressed against him. Opening his eyes he smiled to see Gideon fast asleep cuddled close to him. Slowly he eased away being careful not to wake her. She murmured at the loss of his warmth but didn’t waken while Rip wrapped the quilt around her pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead before leaving her to sleep.

It felt odd not having her to talk to while he made breakfast, but he went through the morning routine getting Jonas ready for school listening for any sounds she was awake. When time came for them to leave Gideon was still fast asleep, Rip wrote a note letting her know where they’d gone before ushering Jonas out the door.

Rip dropped his son off at school, stopping off briefly at the lab to check everything was fine there. Harry told him they were cleaning up, not to worry and just spend time with Gideon while they worked out why she had become human.

Returning to the house, it was odd to have to open the door himself, Rip found Gideon was now awake and prowling around the kitchen.

“Are you hungry?” Rip asked making her jump slightly that she hadn’t realised he was there.

Gideon nodded, “I did not know what to do.”

Rip smiled, “How about something simple? Toast?”

“That sounds...” she hesitated, “Nice?”

“I’ll make you some,” Rip told her.

  Gideon watched her Captain as he tidied up his kitchen while she finished the mug of tea he had made for her to go with the toast. She loved how much pride he had in his home, how he kept it clean and tidy as much as he could with a seven-year-old child, just like the Waverider.

“So,” Rip turned to her, “What do you want to do today?”

Gideon looked at him confusion covering her face, “I do not know. I have never had a form before Captain, it is slightly overwhelming. All the choices there suddenly are.”

Rip moved to her side and took her hand, “How about we walk around the city then go for lunch?”

“That sounds nice,” Gideon smiled at him, happy he’d cut the choices down to one.

“Jonas will be staying with Clarissa tonight anyway,” he reminded her, “So we can do something tonight as well if you want. Okay?”

“I would like that,” Gideon replied.

Rip kissed her cheek, “Go, have a shower and get dressed. We’ll head out once you’re ready.”

Gideon nodded and started towards the stairs, pausing she turned back to him, “What if this is permanent?”

Rip walked over and gently pushed her hair back behind her ear, “We will work it out, Gideon. No matter what form you’re in we are a family. Now go and get ready so I can show you the city.”

Smiling at him she slipped away and walked up the stairs.

  Rip kept his arm wrapped around Gideon’s waist as they walked through the park he would take Jonas to every Sunday. It was an absolute joy watching Gideon interact with the world. She was as innocent as Jonas in many ways, taking in everything with enthusiasm and wonder.

“Do you want to go and get some lunch now?” Rip asked aware of the time.

“Oh,” Gideon frowned slightly, “Must we leave already?”

Rip mused for a moment before he shook his head, “Come on. I have an idea.”

He moved her to the nearby picnic tables finding one in the sun which also gave her a good view of all the people in the park.

“I’ll be back soon,” he promised heading over to the small cafe nearby.

Getting a small selection of sandwiches, as well as some cold drinks, he returned to find Gideon watching the children in the park with a smile on her face.

“I thought,” he placed everything on the table, “We could have lunch here.”

Taking his hand for a moment Gideon gave him a smile, “I am glad you are here with me, Captain. I would not want to explore being human with anyone else.”

                                  *********************************************

  “Is everything alright, Clarissa?” Rip asked when he answered his phone, which was an odd experience.

“I’m fine,” she assured him, “I’m just stuck in traffic and I don’t think I’ll be able to collect Jonas.”

“Not a problem,” Rip replied, “We will pick him up take him for dinner and you can either join us or we’ll drop him off.”

“I’ll call you once I know what I’ll be able to do,” Clarissa sighed, “It is a parking lot here.”

Rip chuckled, “I’ll talk to you soon.”

Hanging up he turned to Gideon who was studying the dresses in the shop window they were standing outside, her head tilted in thought.

“Is something wrong?” she asked concerned when Rip touched her arm to get her attention.

He shook his head, “We just need to pick up Jonas from school. Clarissa is having some issues with traffic. I thought we could go for dinner before we drop him off.”

Gideon frowned slightly.

“What?”

“Something easy to eat,” she said softly, a pink tinge colouring her cheeks, “If I am eating in public.”

“How about pizza,” he told her with a slight smirk before he hugged her, “You’ll get used to these things soon. I promise.”

Gideon rested in his arms for a moment before she pulled away, “We must go if we are to get to the school in time.”

Rip took her hand and they started back to the car.

  Leading Gideon to his usual spot Rip leaned against the wall to wait for Jonas. He frowned confused as there seemed to be a lot of murmured conversations amongst the other parents but before he could mull it over the bell rang.

Jonas ran over skidding to a halt confused to see Rip and Gideon standing there, “Where’s Grandma?”

“Grandma is stuck in traffic,” Rip told him opening his arms to his son up for a hug, “We’ll drop you off after we go for dinner.”

Jonas threw himself at Rip who lifted him and gave him a big hug, dropping him to the ground again Rip smiled seeing Jonas hug Gideon hello.

“You have to meet Miss Meadows,” Jonas said suddenly, he started to tug Gideon over to where his teacher stood.

Rip nodded to her to go and watched smiling as the woman who taught his son met the ‘mysterious’ Gideon Jonas spoke of all the time. He was pulled away from the scene when his phone began to ring again.

“Evelyn?” Rip answered it concerned.

“Rip,” she said, “I’m stuck in traffic. Clarissa said you’re picking up Jonas, could you pick Adam up as well?”

“Of course,” Rip assured her, “We’re taking Jonas for dinner, he’ll be ecstatic for Adam to join us. Hang on and I’ll pass you over to Mrs Weaver for you to give permission.”

Waiting while Mrs Weaver spoke with Evelyn, Rip watched Gideon’s interaction with Miss Meadows. He smiled slightly amused that Gideon held Jonas by the shoulders keeping him in front of her as a protective shield during the conversation with the other woman.

“Alright, Mr Hunter,” Mrs Weaver handed him back his phone, “I have received permission for you to take Adam with you. Enjoy your weekend.”

Rip nodded before moving to join the others, “Alright, let’s go and get some dinner. Adam, we will drop you off at home afterwards.”

  Gideon smiled listening to the chatter from the two boys watching how her Captain listened attentively to them. He allowed them both to choose their own meal, making sure they would eat it before letting them head to the small play area to run around.

“What would you like?” Rip asked her while she read the menu for the fourth time.

Grimacing slightly Gideon looked over at him, “I do not know. I do not know what I will like.”

“Okay, how about we get you one with just cheese,” Rip suggested, “Since we know you do like that and you can try what I get. Okay?”

“That sounds agreeable, Captain,” she smiled.

“And you should use my name, Gideon,” he reminded her for the tenth time that day.

Her cheeks heated again, she knew she should use his name but he had been ‘Captain’ to her for so long that it was a hard habit to break, “I will try...Rip.”

When he smiled at her Gideon felt her cheeks heat even more before she dropped her eyes to study the menu again, relieved when the waitress arrived to take their order.

“What’s wrong?” Rip asked once the waitress left, reaching out to take her hand.

Gideon gave him a forced smile, “Nothing, Cap...Rip.”

“You’re lying to me,” Rip said softly before gently brushing a lock of hair back from her face, “Whatever is bothering you let me help.”

Shaking her head Gideon sighed, “I am just a little overwhelmed, Rip. There are so many people and so many choices and I...”

“It’s alright,” Rip soothed when she trailed off, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been pushing you so much. If you want we can get the food to go.”

“No,” she smiled at him, “The boys are enjoying themselves.”

Squeezing her hand Rip nodded, “Once we drop them off we’ll go home and you can relax.”

Relief covered her face and she squeezed his hand back, “Thank you, Captain.”

                                  *********************************************

  Evelyn hushed her little girl before settling her into her crib in the lounge. She heard the boys before the bell was rung.

“Mommy,” Adam grinned when she opened the door, “We went for pizza.”

Evelyn gave him a hug hello, “That sounds great,” looking up she started to greet Rip stopping when she saw the unknown, beautiful woman standing with him.

“Can I show Jonas my new game?” Adam asked pulling attention back to him.

Evelyn nodded.

“Five minutes, Jonas,” Rip called as the two boys thundered up the stairs.

“Come in,” Evelyn stepped back allowing them inside.

Rip gently rested his hand on the woman’s back guiding her inside to the lounge. Evelyn smiled at the way he instantly moved to look at Ruth who gurgled waving her arms and legs at her admirer. Glancing up she spotted the other woman watching Rip also with a fond smile on her lips.

“I am so sorry,” he said suddenly, “I need to introduce you. Evelyn, this is my dear friend Gideon.”

Surprise filled her but she instantly offered her hand to the other woman, “It’s so nice to meet you. Jonas talks about you all the time. Are you here for long?”

“It is currently undecided,” Gideon replied, her voice soft, “But it is lovely to meet you also.”

  Rip turned back from introducing Gideon to Evelyn to look down at the baby smiling up at him again.

“You can pick her up if you want,” Evelyn told him with an amused smile.

Rip smiled back and gently lifted the baby into his arms, “Hello,” he cooed softly, “How are you today? Yes, yes you’re such a good girl.”

“I will be back in a minute,” Evelyn said, “I picked up something for Jonas.”

Nodding Rip continued to gently bounce Ruth suddenly aware that he was being watched closely.

“Do you want to hold her?” Rip asked Gideon.

Surprise covered her face, “I do not know if that is a good idea, Captain.”

Rip chuckled, “It’ll be alright. Sit down and I’ll rest her onto your arms.”

Gideon licked her lips following his instructions, letting out a soft gasp when he placed Ruth into her arms. Rip watched his best friend hold the child smiling at the look of wonder in her eyes as she gazed down at Ruth.

“Captain,” Gideon whispered, “You should take her back now.”

Understanding she was overwhelmed by the sudden emotions she was feeling, Rip took Ruth out of Gideon’s arms and cooed to her some more before placing her back in her crib.

“Here,” Evelyn appeared with a carrier bag, “It’s the raincoat and wellington boots for Jonas I picked up.”

“Thank you,” Rip took the bag, “I forgot all about them.”

Evelyn patted his arm, “It’s not a problem.”

Rip quickly checked his watch, “We should get going. I need to get Jonas to Clarissa’s.”

“It was so nice to meet you, Gideon,” Evelyn said, “And I hope we get a chance to talk properly at some point.”

Gideon gave a small smile back, “As do I.”

  Clarissa opened the door as they walked towards it, catching Jonas in a hug when he ran over.

“Hello, Sunshine,” she greeted him.

“Hi, Grandma,” Jonas grinned at her, “Have you met Gideon yet?”

Clarissa shook her head, having been warned of their latest incident, “No, I haven’t.”

Jonas turned and ran over to Gideon grabbing her hand, pulling her forward, “Grandma, this is Gideon.”

Clarissa gave the woman standing before her looking very nervous a warm smile, “It’s nice to meet you like this, Gideon.”

“And you, Mrs Stein,” Gideon replied softly, surprised when the older woman hugged her tightly.

“Clarissa,” she said, “I’m always Clarissa to family.”

Gideon nodded.

“Jonas,” Rip called, “We are going to go home now. Have fun with Grandma tonight, I will call before you go to bed and we will see you tomorrow after swimming lessons.”

Jonas threw his arms around Rip for a hug before he turned and hugged Gideon, “You will meet us for lunch?”

“I promise,” Gideon told him.

Jonas nodded before he ran inside the house and Rip chuckled, “We’ll see you tomorrow, Clarissa.”

                                  *********************************************

  Gideon changed into her pyjamas and walked downstairs where her Captain was waiting for her. She had enjoyed her day, but being human was so complicated and she had at points just wanted to run away to hide.

Reaching the living room Rip looked over from where he was sitting on the couch and gave her a warm smile making her smile back. Gideon was so grateful that her Captain had been with her all day, helping her navigate the strange new world she was in.

He motioned her to join him, “I have a movie ready for us to watch, unless you want to watch one of your cooking shows.”

Gideon slid onto the couch at his side, “A cooking show please, Captain.”

He opened his mouth before shaking his head, “Of course.”

Rip turned on the television, making her smile that he had the channel selected ready for her. Leaning back against the cushions Gideon rested her head against Rip’s shoulder, a smile touching her lips when he wrapped his arm around her moving her to rest against his chest instead.

Gideon took several deep breaths closing her eyes.

“Are you okay?” Rip asked as she cuddled into him, her arm wrapping around his waist.

“It has been a good day, Captain,” she sighed softly looking up at him, “But there were times I was so…”

Rip gently stroked her cheek, “What?”

“Overwhelmed,” she whispered, “Yes, that is the best word I can use.”

He frowned worriedly, “Did I push you too much?”

“No,” she assured, “It is just…I found there were times that my emotions seemed to bubble up and I am not sure how to…”

“It’s okay,” Rip hushed when she trailed off upset.

Gideon frowned, “I am supposed to be able to anticipate and adapt to any situation. It is how I was programmed.”

“You’re human now, Gideon,” Rip reminded her, “You’re not programmed anymore.”

Frustration filled her and she pulled back from him, “I am not supposed to be like this.”

“Hey,” Rip took her face in his hands, “Listen to me, Gideon. It will get easier, I promise you and I am here. I will help you through this.”

“You promise?” she whispered.

Rip rested his forehead against hers staring deep into her eyes, “I promise.”

  The yawns coming from Gideon made Rip smile while he watched her try to keep her eyes open as he talked to Jonas. Hanging up with his son he turned to the human form of his best friend sitting on the couch watching him.

“You should go and get some sleep,” Rip noted, frowning at the fear that flitted across her face, “What’s wrong?”

Shaking her head slightly Gideon dropped her eyes, “It is…silly.”

Taking a seat at her side Rip caught her hand, “No, it’s not. Whatever it is it is perfectly fine for you to feel that way. You can tell me.”

“I…” she whispered, “I’m still afraid of sleep.”

Wrapping his arm around her shoulders Rip held her close before asking, “Do you want to sleep beside me again tonight?”

Gideon nodded against his chest not looking up at him. Rip smiled and pressed a kiss to her hair.

“Come on,” Rip caught Gideon’s hand and tugged her to her feet, “You need to sleep.”

  Gideon crawled into the bed sighing when she dropped her head on the pillow, she heard Rip chuckle from nearby.

“You’re really tired, aren’t you?” he said.

Looking up she saw he’d changed into his sleepwear and gave him a slight smile, “I am not used to this.”

“I know,” he soothed, “You will learn though. It will get much easier as time goes by.”

Rip switched off the main light leaving only the lamp on at his side of the bed before he slid into his side of the bed. Gideon moved instantly to rest against her Captain, arm wrapping around his waist as she tucked her head beneath his chin taking a deep breath.

Rip wrapped his arms around her, sliding one hand slowly up and down her back comfortingly.

“I am scared now I am different from what I was,” Gideon whispered as she burrowed close to him sleep pulling her down, “But with you, Captain I want to stay like this. To stay in your arms.”

Rip tightened his embrace, “I’m always happy to have you here and, if this is permanent, then this is where you’ll stay.”

“Are you sure?” Gideon asked dreamily as she fought sleep.

Sliding his hand up into her hair Rip murmured, “You’re my Gideon.”

“Captain?” she whispered.

“I’m here, Gideon,” Rip breathed.

She let out a soft sigh of contentment at his words, “You always are.”