#but blaming the way jj went out on him…?
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Also, the Rudy Pankow hate is certainly a choice….?
#Idk much about the bts stuff#the bare minimum#so I might be really wrong#but blaming the way jj went out on him…?#and solely him???? crazy behaviour imo#calling him names????#are you 12????#I think you might be 12.#rudy pankow#outer banks season 4#outer banks#obx season 4#obx
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𝜗𝜚 Cherry Picking.
Spencer Reid x Fem!reader
Summary: After your first night with Spencer, you wake up and see that he's left you two dollars and a thank-you note on your bedside table.
Words: 2,3k.
TW: lots of mentions and references to sex, but nothing completely explicit. the reader is quite dramatic and has little faith in men (literally me, sorry). SO MUCH chaos and lack of communication but happy ending. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).
Note: This idea just came to me out of the blue, and I have to say that Sex and the City has had a bit of an influence. I love the chaos, the conversations between friends, and Spencer being the best man in the world (I'm picturing him kind of like in his season four version).
♡ Enjoy! ♡
Saturday afternoon
“Two dollars?!”
Penelope's and JJ's simultaneous exclamations and surprised faces when you finished speaking were pretty much to be expected. They noticed a change in your expression and took a moment to compose themselves, as did the rest of the people in the room, who glanced curiously at your table from time to time. It was certainly a fascinating sight, three women having an animated conversation about their lives over milkshakes as if they were drinks, especially considering that one of them was pregnant and her belly looked like it was about to explode.
You didn't blame anyone for reacting that way, especially not your friends. You were still pretty shocked by what happened, especially by how thoughtless the man you'd developed feelings for and worked closely with over the past few years was. It was a unsettling to find a tip on your nightstand after one of the most memorable nights you'd ever had. You still remembered the excitement you felt when you went to Spencer's apartment yesterday to watch a movie as part of your fourth or fifth date. He seemed nervous when you started kissing more intensely, and the couch wasn't the best setting. The sensation of your body on his bed and his lips on your skin was incredible.
It was a good memory, extremely good if you took away the embarrassment of waking up the next day in his empty bed with money waiting for you, as if you had performed a service.
“Maybe there was a misunderstanding and the money was left on the table by mistake.” Jennifer spoke again in a reassuring tone after turning the matter over. “Spencer can be a little clumsy sometimes.”
You pressed your lips together in a thin line as you listened to her attempt to provide an explanation for his actions. But given their friendship, this was to be expected.
“And he was in a hurry to catch his plane and go to his mother.” Garcia added with a forced smile, trying to lift your spirits. “It all makes sense.”
Yes, it was understandable that he was leaving in a hurry because he had to catch a flight to spend his weekend off with his mother. That didn't worry you, but there was something else that was curious.
“How do you explain the thank-you note?” You asked, taking out the paper and the two dollars you'd pulled out to show them as proof from your purse.
“It was a thank you for hanging out with him, a sweet gesture.” JJ said, taking a sip of her milkshake and patting her belly.
It seemed more like a sour gesture to you, that you had been left with your dignity on the floor. As you left his apartment, you didn't know whether to cry or laugh because it sounded like a bad joke that the only man you thought was decent and for whom you allowed yourself to have feelings would do such a thing.
“My love life is going downhill.” You said.
Just then, the restaurant door opens and Emily appears. After greeting her and apologizing for her late arrival, she asks about the cause of your apparent distress. As a profiler, she was astute enough to know something was wrong just by looking at you.
“What's wrong, honey?” She started talking as soon as she sat down next to you and took a quick look at the table. “Those milkshakes look good, I want one.”
“Spencer thinks I'm a prostitute.” You spoke up without thinking, which surprised Emily and caused her to briefly lose her grip on the menu.
There was a long, awkward silence.
Perhaps you were too direct in saying something that you had been trying to ignore for your own mental health.
“Just a heads-up, we've got a baby in the room. No need to say that word!” Penelope was the first to speak, gently covering JJ's belly with her hands. “He can hear you.”
At that moment, Reid and his comments about pregnancy data at every stage came to mind. You felt a little uncomfortable because you knew it was a little unrealistic to focus on the positives at a time like this.
“Oh, I'm so sorry, baby.” You looked regretfully at your friends and spoke to Jennifer's belly, giving it a gentle caress. “Don't listen.”
“I need context, please.” Emily said confusedly, trying to understand what was going on and why you had said what you had said.
You let out a deep breath, preparing yourself to recount the story once more.
“Okay, Spencer and I made...milkshakes. Very good milkshakes, really good if you know what I mean.” You tried to explain slowly, watching your words and your friends' expressions. “I woke up when he was leaving, he gave me a kiss on my forehead and said to keep sleeping, that he had to catch his flight.”
“That's sweet, but weird to know.” Emily commented quizzically, looking at the menu intently again. “What's the part...you know?”
“Oh, when he thought I was-” You stop yourself as you see how JJ looks at you. “A pie maker.”
You could tell from their expressions that they were about to laugh at your attempts to keep the conversation friendly.
“I woke up hours later to find two dollars on the nightstand with a thank-you note.” You finished the story. “To him, I'm worth two fu...sugary dollars.”
Prentiss stared at you for several seconds, waiting for me to tell her it was a joke. Only when that didn't happen did she speak. “That sounds weird and awful, but I don't think he would do something like that on purpose. Especially you, he really likes you.”
“He likes me enough to give me two dollars.”
When you finished speaking, you experienced a moment of discomfort in your stomach as your own words took effect. You were surprised to find that on a deeper level, what had happened was causing you more pain than you had anticipated.
“That doesn't sound like Reid at all. I've known him for years, and he's not that kind of man.” Penelope said with a frown, trying to reassure you. “I'm sure it's a mix-up.”
You were looking for the same thing and hoping it was just a misunderstanding, but your previous bad experiences made you think otherwise. You'd met enough men to know that they could always be worse. What was different now was that you really liked this particular man. You really longed for him to be different from everyone else.
However, things weren't always as you'd hoped. You'd invested a lot of hope in making your fairy tale come true, and it was starting to take its toll.
“Have you had a chance to speak with him?” JJ inquired.
“He's with his mother, I won't bother him.” You replied with a strange simplicity that made your friends suspicious. “I'm fine, I've calmed down.” You added as you saw their worried faces.
“I love you, but sometimes you scare me.” Emily said, watching you drink from your smoothie as if it contained a painkiller. “It's not okay to pretend that everything's fine.”
“It's understandable to feel a bit discouraged about this. Things may seem challenging at the moment, but I believe things will improve when you discuss this with him.” Jennifer's hand gently touched yours, offering a comforting gesture.
“I'm sure everything will be fine. You have our support if you need it.” Penelope joined in with the motivational words and gave you a reassuring smile.
You took the last sip of your milkshake and leaned back in your seat for a moment before replying. “I'm fine, girls. I don't plan to lose my head over a man, I promised myself.”
They looked at you with some skepticism, but you didn't flinch. You were confident that if you were mentally prepared not to be defeated, or at least not to look defeated, you would be well prepared for the day of the meeting.
You weren't going to lose your mind over this.
Monday morning
You were definitely losing your mind, and no cup of tea or internet video that promised to do so had been able to relax you one bit. You had been cooped up in the office you shared with Penelope for several minutes, pacing in your chair while everyone in the conference room waited for information about a new case and your presence. The mere thought of having to face Reid again was making you feel pretty uneasy.
All weekend, you had been trying to reassure yourself that you were doing well, that you were not hurt or affected by what happened, that it was just one more disappointment to add to the long list you had written since you were a teenager, and that it was normal for someone with your luck. You were not a princess, you were not going to meet a prince, and you were old enough to know that.
But being in the same building as your prince turned toad was not as easy as you had hoped. You prayed that your presence would not be necessary and that the jet would soon take off to take them all away, especially him.
A few sudden knocks on the door startled you. You automatically thought it was your boss coming to scold you for being late, and your blood froze.
“I apologize for the delay, Hotch. I assure...” You spoke promptly as soon as the door opened and a male figure appeared.
But obviously, it wasn't him.
“Oh, sorry, I'm not Hotch. But hey, how are you?” Spencer smiled at you and walked toward you, looking a little nervous.
“Fine.” You replied dryly, getting up from your seat to grab your tablet and some folders to carry into the conference room.
In your mind, you had planned to make a scene as soon as you saw him and make it clear that you didn't cost just two dollars. But after thinking about it a lot, the fear of losing your job over it was greater. And now it was a mixture of that reasoning with your feeling of paralysis at actually having him in front of you.
“I...I missed you over the weekend.” He stopped you before you could walk away, gently holding your hand. The feeling alone made you stop and look at him angrily. “I thought about you a lot, too much, and I bought you something.” He let go of your hand to pull a small box out of his pocket.
“How dare you?” You blurt out, taking a step back.
He looked a little uncomfortable and seemed to be in pain. “I'm sorry if I overstepped. I didn't mean to impose. Did I cross a line? I'm so sorry, I just thought-”
“What? That you could embarrass me even more? Didn't I already go through enough?”
That's when you took out two dollars from your purse and gave it to him.
“Could I ask why this is?” Spencer was still frowning and looked just as hurt as you.
His apparent lack of understanding of the situation made you much angrier. You had thought he was probably the smartest man you had ever met in your entire life, but suddenly, in your eyes, he was an idiot.
“I'm refunding your payment, Reid.” You replied firmly, without hiding your frustration.
The confusion on his face seemed to multiply as he tried to understand. “What are you talking about? I gave you your money back.”
You tilted your head slightly to one side.
“Saturday morning, I left on the nightstand the two dollars you lent me a week ago when we bought coffee. You know I don't like being in debt.” Spencer began to explain calmly, taking a moment to gather his thoughts and present the facts in a clear and concise manner.
Oh, you do remember lending him money at some point, or rather, inviting him for coffee that he said he'd pay you back. That day when his hair was perfect in the wind, when he smiled at you and told you some interesting facts about coffee beans.
“I mentioned it when I said goodbye, but you looked so tired that I left you a thank you note in case you forgot.” He went on to explain. “A lot of studies say that you wake up to full strength at least 20 to 30 minutes after you actually open your eyes. And you still had them closed when I said goodbye.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?”
“I...I thought you-” You fell silent as you saw the stunned look on his face. You didn't want to look crazy, so you quickly added. “I just thought wrong.”
“I'm sorry, I don't understand.” He said, a little embarrassed. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Oh, no, I just...did you bring me a gift?” You changed the subject, taking the box he had previously offered you. Inside was a necklace with a cherry blossom charm.
“Your computer wallpaper is a picture of cherry blossoms. And I saw this necklace in a store when I was walking with my mom, and I thought you might like it. But it's okay if you don't want it-” He spoke fast until you interrupted him.
“I love it, thank you.” You smiled at him and took the necklace out of the box. “Could you help me with this?”
With some trepidation and uncertainty still present, Spencer positioned himself behind you with the jewel in his hands, carefully brushed your hair aside and fastened the necklace around your neck. The sensation of his fingers brushing against your skin made you feel a slight shiver.
“Thanks.” You said as you turned around to face him. You gave him a hug, though you were a little unsure.
He returned your embrace, feeling a sense of relief that things between you were okay. “You don't have to thank me.”
“It's not about the gift. It's just a way to say thanks for being you.”
Perhaps he was your prince after all.
#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#matthew gray gubler
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pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!bau!reader, platonic!spencer x reader summary: in which your close relationship with spencer makes aaron wonder if there’s something going on between you and the young doctor. content warnings: mentions of kidnappings, torture, child abuse (typical cm case stuff), insecurities, age gap, and haley, jealous!aaron (hb is DOWN BAD), he kind of acts like a prick in the middle of this? but it’s v brief and he apologizes!! hints of autistic!spence, angst if u squint but mostly fluff, miscommunication, technically idiots to lovers but hotch is the only idiot <3 word count: 5.1k (this was NOT supposed to be this long omfg) a/n: this was inspired by a dream i had where i was besties w reid and everyone thought i liked him until i had to blurt out that i was into older men… enjoy!!
If looks could kill, Aaron was sure Spencer would be dead by now.
It was contradicting, in a way. How he thought of Spencer like the son that had come before his actual son, yet he was staring at him like a predator stalking their next victim.
You were standing next to the young genius, shoulders brushing against shoulders as you went back and forth with the geographical profile the two of you had been assigned to work on, something Aaron was really regretting having done.
The team had been called in to assist with a case in Portland, Maine, involving an abductor-type unsub. One who would stalk his victims and learn their routines before kidnapping them, torturing them for two to three days before disposing of them in forests and parks all throughout the city.
You and Reid were both tied when it came to your skills with geographical profiles, one of the many things that had blossomed your relationship with him. But with the way the unsub was beginning to rapidly devolve, the rush to develop said profile and figure out his next move had forced Aaron to assign you two together.
Deep down he knew that it had to be done for the sake of the case and all its victims, and that it was the best decision to make as leader of the team.
But, still, he couldn’t help the jealousy that was bubbling from within him, his gaze completely focused on the way you giggled and smiled, endeared, while watching Reid struggle to tape the map one of the sheriffs had supplied you with to a spare whiteboard in the office the team had been given to work in.
He hadn’t even noticed when JJ walked up to him, the blonde hair and white button up she was wearing apparently not enough to break him out of his trance until—
“Hotch.”
Aaron snaps his head towards her, blinking in bewilderment, “Sorry, what?”
JJ stares at him with a look of both concern and amusement, a smile tugging at her lips. Her hand is raised expectantly and her eyes flicker towards the case file in his hands.
He looks down at it, brows furrowing when he finally sees the death grip he was holding the paper with. It’s slightly crumpled from where his thumb had rested, the pages wrinkled.
He clears his throat, trying to soothe out the file as subtly and smoothly as he can before handing it to JJ, “Sorry,” he grumbled.
The blonde chuckles softly, taking it from him and doing her own best to bend it back into place. She begins to flip through the pages, though she can’t help but follow Aaron’s gaze back to you and Spencer.
You had finally gotten up to help him in taping up the map, taking it from his hands and effortlessly doing so before turning around and giving him a cheeky smile.
JJ turns her attention back to him, biting back a smug smile when she sees her boss practically glaring daggers at the two of you, “I assume you’re trying to figure them out, too?” She asks, looking down at the file.
Aaron blinks, this time slowly turning his head to gaze down at her, “What do you mean?”
Her eyes widen at the realization of what she just had insinuated about her co-workers to her boss. She shrugs coolly, trying to play it off, “Nothing. They’re just really close is all,” she gives him a tight-lipped smile before quickly walking away, leaving Aaron more confused than before.
He feels his fingers twitch by his side when he glances back at you. It’s cheesy, the way his heart skips a beat when you tuck the strands of hair that had made itself to the front of your face behind your ears. His hardened features soften at the sight of you laughing at something Reid’s said, something he’s sure only the two of you understand.
Aaron’s not sure what it was that had gotten him to stick out for you like a sore thumb or how his sudden infatuation with watching and admiring you and your every move had happened.
All he could recall was that it happened, and it had happened too fast for him to begin realizing how you had begun to overcome his every thought and consume him with feelings he hadn’t felt since Haley’s passing and his marriage with her.
A part of him had told himself that he wasn’t to blame; not only were you one of the best agents he had ever worked with, but you were the loveliest and wholesome of humans.
You had your rough days, everyone on the team understandably did, yet you never failed to meet people with kindness and patience, something else that Aaron wasn’t used to receiving when it came to his co-workers. And, as much as they loved him and he loved them, even his team members were prone to calling him ‘cold’ and ‘stoic.’
While you, on the other hand would always meet him with fond, bright smiles and greetings, never once avoiding his gaze or running the opposite direction as to ‘not get in his way’ like others did.
You were like the sun peeking out of the clouds after a dark and tremendous storm, shining on him with such warmth.
So, in the end, he couldn’t really help himself from falling for you. Or for even feeling childishly jealous when you were shining your warmth onto others.
Especially with someone who apparently the rest of the team suspected you of dating.
Perhaps he couldn’t blame Spencer for falling for you, too.
Everyone meant well, and Aaron knew he was also victim to cutting him off when the boy rambled, but you were the only one who truly listened to him. Who would interrupt him gently during urgent matters and let him continue after they were solved, and never made him feel inadequate.
He doesn’t know how he hadn’t seen it before now that JJ has mentioned it—too blindsided with his own feelings for you—but he begins to wonder, though, if there actually is something more between the two of you.
He likes to think that he begins playing close attention to your mannerism, body language, and shared interactions the two of you have throughout the entirety of the case because he has to. Now that it's been brought to his attention that two of his subordinates might be in a relationship, it's his job as Unit Chief to keep tabs.
So, he watches, when the whole team is sitting in the rectangular table, debriefing with one another and sharing ideas all whilst munching on take out food.
"So, we obviously know that the significance of the victim's being dumped in nature spots is important to this guy," Morgan explains, motioning his hand around the air as he goes on, "but could it be that he kidnaps and keeps his victims in similar spots, just somewhere more secluded?"
"Spencer and I were thinking that that could be a possibility," you say, stealing a fry off of said boy's take out plate, "Maybe he doesn't live in these same places, but he could be taking them to a hidden spot somewhere in the forests, something possibly hidden by debris, wood, or anything makeshift."
Spencer doesn't even blink as you continue to steal more neglected food off his plate, continuing to sort through pictures. Aaron could see Emily and Derek give each other a knowing, smug look through his peripheral.
He manages to swallow, the tip of his middle finger and thumb tapping against one another, "What else have you two come up with regarding the geographical profile?"
"Well, besides where he himself could be living or where he could keep his victims, the whole profile is scattered," Spencer answers this time, sliding the plate towards you as he sets down a picture of each victim with the name of the forests and parks they were found in written underneath. "The first two victims were dumped in a forest, the third in a park, and the fourth in another forest.."
As he goes on, you take advantage to continue eating, the way in which he had just let you eat off his plate despite his known phobia of germs not going unnoticed by everyone else.
If that one wasn't a sign, Aaron didn't know what else was.
*
With the geographical profile being all over the place, Aaron decides on pulling you away from the task the following day, instead pairing you up with him to check out the crime scene of the most recent victim.
He doesn't know if it's the leader in him doing so, pulling you away from your original project he had tasked you to do, or if it's just the mix of both curiosity and jealousy that continues to gnaw at him.
He was a grown man, for Christ's sake. Yet he couldn't help the way his heart churned when you hold his hand for a second longer than necessary after he helps you climb up the small, but frosty hill.
"Thanks," you mumble sweetly, your shoulders brushing against him as you walk past him and towards the await detectives.
Aaron trails behind you, trying to calm his beating heart as the lead detective on the case walks you both towards the victim's body.
"This is the second victim that's been dumped in a park," you start, squatting down to inspect the cuts and bruises on the woman's face. "These sites are obviously more public than the forests, yet he still leaves them in more secluded spots, away from general view."
"Well, we ruled out that he can't feel any remorse or sympathy," Aaron adds while he looks around the now closed off park. "He holds and tortures these women for hours."
You stand from your spot, placing your hands on your hips as you look around the park. Aaron recognizes the face you make as your 'thinking' face, your eyes squinted and your nose scrunched.
"What is it?" He asks, trying to meet your wandering gaze.
“Reid and I were talking about the possibility of the unsub dumping his victims in the same places where half—if not all—of his childhood abuse took place,” you miss the way his breath hitches in his throat and the way his shoulders sag slightly, continuing. “We know that he has to be a local here from Portland—probably raised around these same areas—and that he was abused severely as a child.”
Aaron tries his best to nod as nonchalantly as possible, “Something from his childhood obviously triggered him for him to start abducting and inflict the same pain on the victims before leaving them in similar places where he could have been left as a child after being abused.”
“Exactly,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. “We were theorizing around that idea for a while but weren’t too sure if the abuse could play such a huge part on his M.O.”
At the mentions of you and Reid again, Aaron couldn’t help but feel like an idiot.
Not only was he a grown man, but he was also your boss. And you were his subordinate, someone he should never had feelings for in the first place and someone he shouldn’t be feeling possessive over as if anything was to truly ever happen between you.
At first he had thought that Spencer wasn’t to blame for having the same feelings Aaron so strongly harbored for you. But, maybe, you weren’t the one to blame.
For falling for someone more your age, for someone you worked and paired so well with, for someone nobody else made such a grand effort to understand the way you did.
Not only was he a grown man and your boss, but he was also double your age, a single father, and a widower.
Swallowing harshly, he pulls out his phone from his suit’s inner pocket, “I’ll have Garcia check out any reported speculations of childhood abuse in these areas and see if she can narrow down our list,” He turns, using his height to his advantage and speeding off, leaving you completely behind.
You frown, rushing to catch up to him. You halt when you come to the same frosty hill he had helped you climb up and open your mouth to call for his help, but close it back up when you see he’s already made it back to the SUV and is climbing inside.
When you finally climb inside the car after successfully managing to climb down the hill without busting your ass, he’s talking with Garcia.
You wait patiently as he drives, the phone on speaker as he gives out quick orders that your friend rushes to catch up with. You try to take the chance of speaking up once he hangs up with her, but he’s quickly dialing for Rossi afterwards.
You’re quiet throughout the ride back to the precinct, the sudden change in mood too heavy for you to gather the courage to make any sort of conversation. Once parked in front of the building, he gets out right away, slamming the door while you’re barely unblocking your seatbelt.
You make a beeline to the conference room where you find Reid, no longer paying any mind on trying to find Aaron any longer.
Spencer jumps when you hurriedly slam the door behind you, eyes filling with worry when you lean against the wood and stare at the floor pensively, “You okay?” he asks.
“Fine,” you mumble, pushing yourself off the door and taking a seat across from him. “I just got back from the latest crime scene with Hotch and he started acting so weird after I told him about our theory of the unsub’s dumping pattern.”
“Weird how?”
You move to speak, but hesitate when you realize that going into detail about how cold your boss suddenly acted towards you after being used to receiving such kind—some might say preferable—treatment would make your friend speculate things he, of all people, did not need to speculate.
You shake your head, “Nothing. He’s probably just stressed or tired,” you drop your forehead onto the table’s cold wood, your arms stretched out in front of you. “I know I am.”
A beat of silence passes before you hear a creak and the feeling of a finger press against your index. You bite back a laugh, looking up to find Spencer leaning forward in his own seat to do a ‘finger touch,’ something you had come up with for him after realizing how persistent his germophobia was, even with the people he loved the most.
You smile at him, leaning your head on one of your forearms and pressing your finger into his.
From outside the glass-windowed office, Aaron watches you both, a solemn look on his face.
*
The case is finally closed once you and Spencer’s theory is proven right, the unsub securely put away and the green light to go home given at last. But with the late night icy weather too dangerous for the jet to take off, Aaron orders for everyone to instead turn in for the night at the hotel and head out first thing tomorrow morning instead.
He gives a silent thanks to no one in particular when he finds out it's his turn to have a room all for himself, the rotation always being cheated by Dave, Derek, or Emily that he always forgets who's next.
Shockingly enough, he's ready to turn in for the night, not even sparing an extra glance to any of the files he had brought with him as he prepares for bed. He's just about to sit down when a knock comes from behind his door, echoing throughout his room.
He lets out a quiet groan but stands nonetheless, rubbing tiredly at his face before swinging the door open. His first instinct is to snap at whoever's behind, but that's before his eyes cast over you.
You're fiddling with your fingers, dressed in your pajamas that consists of an off-the-shoulder shirt that dips low enough to show off your collarbone and the very top of your chest, your bra strap in the middle.
And, despite the chilly weather outside, you were wearing shorts. A pair of cotton shorts that peek out from underneath the shirt you were wearing and leave little to the imagination—more so, Aaron’s imagination.
Truth be told, he's seen you in a lot less. Your usual team outing outfits consisted of tank tops, baby tees, shorts, and slightly more revealing clothes.
But this, seeing you in what you would normally sleep in, sends him into a completely different spiral.
You cringe and immediately panic at the thought of having woken him up, "Sorry, were you already asleep?" you ask, taking a tentative step back.
Aaron blinks and clears his throat, the pads of his thumb and middle finger once again tapping against one another, "No," He lies. "I was barely getting ready."
Your shoulders drop and the panic dissipates as a small smile replaces it, “Oh, okay,” you bring your hands behind your back, rocking on your heels, “I just wanted to talk to you. If that’s alright?”
Aaron’s brows furrow though he immediately steps to the side to allow you in, a soft ‘of course’ following.
He takes in the way you hesitantly step in, back facing him and arms still intertwined behind your back.
You’re being respectful, probably hoping that you’re not overstepping with whatever it is that you want to talk about. And though you always are, he can’t tell if you’re nervous, worried, or filled with insomnia that you just couldn’t sleep.
“Is everything alright?” He finally asks when you don’t make a move to sit down anywhere, his hands slightly ajar to his side like he’s ready to reach out and touch you.
God, how he wishes he could touch you.
You clear your throat and turn around, “Actually, I was just coming to ask you the same thing,”
The harsh lines on Aaron’s face deepen when you take a seat on the edge of the bed, glancing beside you as a signal for him to join you.
He swallows as he does so, careful not to sit too close and award you space. His eyes flicker back up at you when he hears your breath hitch.
Seconds of silence pass before you shuffle closer to him, bringing your body forward so that you were staring at him directly.
“Are you… feeling okay?”
Aaron freezes, his movements completely stilling at your question. His mind begins to race with all the possibilities of what could have brought on your question when it clicks.
How he had concurred that you and him were completely different and could never be a possibility, and how he immediately decided that acting cold towards you would shun out the feelings he’s felt for so long now.
Another clear of his throat, he replies, “I’m fine.”
You raise a brow at him, giving him a look that shows that you know he’s not telling the truth.
“Are you sure?” you ask again, this time more firmly. “I don’t mean to overstep, but you’ve been acting rather…strange ever since you and I got back from the fifth victim’s crime scene.”
Aaron cringes at how your expression turns into a sad one, quickly masking it with one of concern afterwards.
He sighs. He supposes that if there’s a possibility that you and Spencer are dating, now’s the time to ask you about it.
He makes a show of staring directly at you in the same way he does when he’s in his ‘boss mode,’ trying to study your face before he asks the question, “Is there something I should know about you and Spencer?”
That wasn’t what you were expecting.
You’re taken aback, quite literally flinching as if you had been struck. It takes you a few seconds to take in what he’s just asked you, and you shake your head almost as if it wasn’t real.
“I’m sorry?”
The desperation gnaws at him once more, and he’s not sure which side of him wants to find out the answer.
“Are you and Spencer dating?” he asks again, voice somehow unwaveringly calm as he punctuates each word clearly.
Your mouth opens in shock, letting out a sound that’s half a scoff half a broken laugh. You look around the room in utter bewilderment.
“What correlation does my relationship with Spencer have with what I asked you?” You can’t tell if you’re angry or just confused, but you stand from the bed and stare down at him.
Aaron follows your lead, “I never noticed it before until the rest of the team pointed it out, but you two are close. Close in such a way that—” He swallows, “—as your boss, I have to ask.”
Before the rest of the team pointed it out. Of course.
You fully scoff this time, “As my boss, you should know that Spencer and I have always been close,” you concur.
“Then why can’t you look at me?”
Despite your heart hammering in your chest, you force yourself to look at him, “Excuse me?”
“You’re not looking at me, you’re getting defensive, and you’re practically avoiding the question,” he says, his own gaze practically boring into you.
“Hotch—”
“You’re deflecting by saying that I should know that you two have always been close, and while I do know that, you’re still not answering my question.”
It feels cruel of him to press you for answers like this, knowing that there was an easier way to do it.
“Reid and I are not dating!” you do your best to not shout it at him in fears of waking the rest of the team up, fists balled at your sides.
“Then why are you so nervous?” he asks, taking a step closer to you. “Why can’t you still look at me?”
“Because it’s you that I like!”
You slap your hands over your mouth immediately and the room falls silent.
Aaron blinks. Once, twice, three times.
You liked him?
You lower your hands, nervously brushing your hair behind your ears as you look around the room in a state of panic, “I-I’m just going to go,” you mumble and immediately rush towards the door.
Aaron stands the for a second, too frozen to do or say anything before his own panic settles in brazenly. His body moves before he has time to register what he's doing and what he'll do when he reaches you.
He wraps an arm around your forearm just as you open the door, halting you from stepping outside, "Y/N, wait,"
"Hotch, please," you're quick to try and release yourself from his grasp, yanking your arm towards yourself in what results as a poor attempt. "Just ignore what I said."
"I can't do that," he dips his head to try and get you to look at him but you simply avoid your gaze even more than your originally had, your cheeks flushed.
"Hotch, let me go!" you whisper-shout, once more fighting his grip. “I’m already embarrassed enough, I don’t need you chastising me anymore.”
“I’m not chastising you, Y/N,” Aaron’s sure he sounds as desperate as you probably feel, but he can’t find it in himself to let you go and ruin his one chance of bringing his feelings to the light. Even if it went against everything he had been telling himself earlier that week.
“Do you not think it’s possible for me to feel the same way?”
Your head snaps towards him, your movements suddenly rigid at his question, “W-What?”
You’re sure that, if your heart hadn’t raptured beforehand, it certainly will now.
Aaron takes you letting your guard down as the chance to bring a hand to your waist and pull you back into the room, shutting the door and thanking that nobody else from the team had emerged from the commotion.
“What do you mean by that?” you’re quick to ask, staring up at him with curious, yet hopeful eyes.
He lowers his head as to avoid your gaze this time, letting out a deep breath. Everything he wanted to do now went against everything he had told himself the day before, when he ridiculed himself for ever thinking that you would like someone such as him or that something could ever happen between you two.
“Hotch,” your voice is firm and you allow yourself to take a step closer to him. You need him to look at you, to give you some sort of clue that he didn’t just say what he said to play you, to get you to re-enter the room just so he could profile you even more. “What do you mean by that?”
Repeating your question doesn’t help him and it certainly doesn’t help the way his heart hammers in his chest, a sound so loud that he’s sure you can hear it from how close you’re standing.
“You like me?” you whisper, dipping your head to try and meet his eyes. How ironic that just a couple of seconds ago you were trying to avoid it.
Aaron shrugs, finally looking up, “How could I not?”
His boyish, yet vulnerable expression makes your breath hitch.
“I said that I had to know if there was something between you and Reid as your boss, but it was just because I was jealous,” he shakes his head, trying his best to suppress an all but amused smile. “It was immature of me, really.”
You shake your head, trying to collect both your own thoughts and everything he was telling you. He had been jealous?
“So, is that you acted that way after I told you about our theory in the park?”
The way in which he left you behind in both the park and in the parking lot of the precinct hits him like a brick, cringing at his actions, "I realized then, when you were talking about what you had both come up with, how compatible you two are. How it would make more sense for you to like someone more suited for you. I'm sorry for how I acted,"
Your heart breaks at hearing his confession, of how he, the same man you practically fell head over heels for after your first meeting, could think that he was unworthy of your attention. If you were being honest, you hadn't been hurt by the way he had acted earlier in the day, only confused as to why.
"Hotch--" you stop yourself. You take another step closer, closing the space between the both of you more and more. "Aaron,"
He snaps his head up at your usage of his first name, the way you said it so gently and naturally getting all his attention.
"I've liked you ever since I first met you," you confess. "I'll admit I was too intimidated by you to fully register what I was feeling, but the more I got to know you, the harder I began to fall. And I fell really hard," you let out a laugh, trying to ignore just how much you were putting on the line right now and how self-conscious you felt with his eyes boring into you.
"You've been with the BAU for three years," Aaron's voice is barely above a breathless murmur and he's sure you wouldn't have heard it if you weren't standing so close. "That's how long you've liked me for?"
You nod, lips pursed, "I never said anything because I thought you would never see me that way, let alone reciprocate my feelings. If I'm telling the truth, I wouldn't have said anything if it weren't for you pressing me into telling you that I was dating Reid."
Aaron smirks despite the warmth he feels on his cheeks, shrugging his shoulders and letting out a soft laugh, "Well, then I'm glad I ended up asking. Who knows how many more years we would've gone like this if I hadn't."
You both laugh, subconsciously curling towards each other when you both double over and bring yourselves even closer than before.
You stare up at him with a warm expression before casting your eyes downwards. You lift your hand to linger above his, the pads of your fingers brushing against the hairs on the back of his palm, "So, what happens now?"
Without breaking eye contact, he takes your hand in his while the other reaches for your waist once more. You let out a small yelp when he pulls you even closer, your bodies now touching and radiating the warmth you both thought you’d never be able to feel from one another.
The next few seconds are filled with bliss when he lowers his head to press his lips against yours. You’re immediately weak, letting go off his hand to place both on his shoulders as to support yourself.
The other now free hand of his comes to rest on your other hip, fingers digging into the fabric of your shorts ever so possessively. A whimper escapes from your mouth and Aaron takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, doing so with so much fervor and passion that it leaves you feeling dizzy even with your eyes closed.
Aaron is relentless even after you pull away to catch your breath, the act of kissing you now something he’s inevitably hooked on. He presses kisses all over your face, from your cheek to your chin to your jaw, then all the way down to your neck.
“You know,” you cough out, flushed from the attention, “I told you how long I’ve liked you, but you didn’t tell me how long you’ve liked me.”
Aaron smiles into your skin, immediately recalling when he first realized his own feelings for you. He lifts his head to press a sweet kiss to your lips, eliciting a hum from you.
“I can tell you all the details over either a nice dinner tomorrow evening after we land,” he says, another kiss to your lips. He turns your bodies around so that his back was to bed, the mattress dipping under his weight when he sits. “Or you can spend the night here and we can stay up all night talking about it.”
His voice is sultry, and the way in which he grabs at your hips to get you to straddle him makes you flush.
“Are you already trying to seduce me?” you ask, mock offense in your tone though you happily take your guided seat on his lap, both knees on each side of his thighs.
Aaron hums this time, brushing your hair back to begin kissing at your neck again, “Can you blame me?”
He already knows your answer, he’s sure. He knows you can’t, because he can’t, either.
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner fan fiction#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotchner drabble#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x you#criminal minds fic#maddie writes
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⊹ ᜊ(ᜊ ´ ˘)੭ ♡ … REACH OUT AND TOUCH FAITH ♡
we often talk about jj and lamb!reader, and how those interactions go down. but we forget that rafe too has his feet planted firmly in the equation.
he’s so much worse. so much more manipulative. whilst jj drives you away from those toxic idealisms the strict church that raised you had you believing, rafe leans right into them. upon limbreys request he’s up early every sunday no matter what coke-fuelled-party he found himself at on saturday night to drive you all the way to church, the kook poster boy ushering you inside whilst you wear those pretty little pastel dresses— often getting through the service by wondering just what you’ve got on underneath. ♱ ⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆
tw: dark themes! blasphemy, catholicism, rafe disrespecting readers faith. i have catholic trauma so this was healing in a weird way to write — but don’t read if you feel you are to be bothered by this content. you are responsible for your own media consumption.
in moments of silence amongst rafes mental spiralling — he’d come to the conclusion that you were sent to save him like an angel. he’d done so many bad things, lead astray by his father and the pogues and whatever else he could blame. but you, you were pure and untouched by this cursed island. if he had you by his side, he’d be forgiven for all the bad he’d done before.
that being said, he couldn’t help his lecherous gaze. his boyish tendencies and moments of self indulgence unsurprising to the addict himself. he wanted to see you on your knees and no not before a wooden pew — wet mouth and cross necklace glistening as you look up to the only lord you should know and worship. him.
there was so much that went over your head he found himself having fun with it. pretending he’s helping out around the house by leaning against your doorway and watching you organise your dresser for a moment before speaking.
“hey, uh— m’doing the laundry for your mom. gimme those.” he nods to your white tights and you furrow your brows.
“my tights?” you feel a little flushed at the mere mention of them. you might have scoffed if it were one of those pogues, but rafe was a good boy— he did good by you, that’s what your mother always told you anyway.
“yeah.” he nods like it’s obvious and you’re silly for even asking. “hand ‘em over already.”
a silence washes over the room, and you timidly slip them down beneath your thin little dress. rafe presses a tongue between his lips as if to act as some kind of glue to stop him from smiling but he does so anyway, scratching his cheek before stepping into the room with his hand extended to retrieve them. you keep eye contact with him the whole time too, you teasing little thing. it must’ve been a respect thing. you were raised that way. always look someone in the eye. it’s polite, and you’re a polite young girl.
he crowds your space before you’d even gotten them off, looming over you when you place the limp hanging fabric into his outstretched palm. he’s insatiable and he hasn’t pushed it far enough, so with his other hand he hungrily approaches once more. “yeah uh, look. m’washing all the delicates here so uhh… i’m gonna need…” he lowers his tone into a raspy drawl as a hand disappears up the hem of your dress to find the waistband of your panties, rubbing a thumb between the space that connected your skin and lace. he wishes he could play the shudder you let out on repeat. “these.”
you make no move to remove them, so being the kindhearted citizen that rafe cameron notoriously is— he stares right down into your eyes as he pulls them down for you slowly, lowering himself just enough so you can step out of them. “theres a good girl.” he praises and somehow it feels dirty and rude. you frown, because you hate the way it makes you clench around nothing though you knew he was somehow probably insulting you. he’s smirking obnoxiously when he backs up, looking down at the girly panties in his hand before walking out.
and of course he does wash them for you, but not after he’s jerked himself raw into the lace of your gusset.
another day rafe is around at the house, this time helping your mother with things regarding this magical cross that held the cure to her illness. it almost felt too good to be true, and you knew for a fact rafe felt that way too — but you defended her with each slight remark he’d make about it, as you felt it was your duty. who were you to believe rafe cameron over the lord himself?
one of limbreys wealthy friends arrives bearing gifts, and hands you holy water from a far away church she visited on her travels. it was packaged in a glittering cross bottle, and you marvelled at its beauty— vowing to save it for when you really felt you needed it.
of course, rafe had already come up with ways to mess with you regarding the gift. the two of you are left alone in the living room while your mother fills her friend in on all the exciting life updates she had to share.
“you know, uh— the most effective way to feel god… inside you and stuff, is to ingest the holy water.” rafe wanders around the table to you casually, reaching and gently grasping the bottle in your hand. “give it.” he orders quietly and you let go on instinct, turning to look at him.
“thats mine.” you argue and he scoffs out a chuckle at your childishness as he uncaps the lid.
“cant believe you didn’t know this.”
“thats not how holy water works, you’re just making things up.” your voice raises in pitch as you watch him pour some into the lid like he was pouring a shot of vodka. your brows are all pinched and he thinks it’s adorable how worked up you get about these things.
“yeah?” he smirks, dipping two fingers into the water before setting it down to grasp your jaw with his hand, gently prying it open. “open.” he demands, and once more you can’t help it. weak in the knees, you fall submissive to his commands and open your mouth, feeling the liquid coating your tongue through his coarse fingers. he rubs your tongue in circles and you suck off the water, hating any to go to waste. your eyes flutter like his touch is addictive.
he’s enjoying himself too much, dips his fingers again and stuffs them back in— and you’re just as hungry, grasping his wrist and letting out a greedy little groan as he strokes your tongue and stuffs his digits further until you gag. there’s drool on your chin and he’s chuckling now, giving it one last go before he’s pulling back to the sound of approaching footsteps. he doesn’t seem as frantic as you when you’re wiping your mouth free of drool, in fact— he openly laughs. “bet you feel Him in you now, huh?”
the final straw comes when the ever trusting limbrey asks rafe to stay with you whilst she’s off chasing whatever with big john routledge. you’d already told her you didn’t need a babysitter — coming up with just about every excuse to not be left alone with the cameron boy. you weren’t scared of what he’d do, no — he was predictable. you knew what he had planned. you were scared that you’d give in, unable to resist temptation.
only three days in and he’s cracked you, something about him having spoken to a priest who told rafe to pass on the message that you must cure him of his devious ways by sharing your body with him. it sounds bad when it’s put simply like that, but it was a whole thing — rafe can be super persuasive. you started off in outright refusal, but he kept chipping away at you until he was slowly approaching you with a trusting smile and a hand undoing his thick leather belt, and soon you were mushy in the brain. too mushy to deny him any longer.
before the end of the week he’s got you brainless and well trained, milking him of every last drop of the devil until you’re limp on the bed — legs over his shoulders. you were doing this for him. you were doing this for him.
plap, plap, plap — the sound of your sticky walls swallowing his cock with each full thrust harmonises perfectly with the sound of each creak your wooden bed frame makes. you’d never heard your bed make so much noise, probably because it’s never seen so much activity in your whole life. rafes above you now, hands gripping on your tits and rolling his thumbs over the nipples and you truly can’t see how that’s supposed to be helpful to the cause— but can’t bring yourself to care with how good it feels.
you’ve made a milky ring around his tip, so soaked with your own completion from his relentless thrusting that it’s created a puddle beneath your ass on the bed. you couldn’t believe yourself, if your mother could see you now she would surely disown you.
“ra—rafey!” you hiccup, grasping at his broad shoulders when it gets all too much.
“yeah— hey, shut up okay? you’re okay.” he pants, trying his hardest to be sweet and keep up the act still, quickly silencing you by cupping your clammy cheek and slowing down his thrusts. “you’re fine.”
“this isn’t right.” you’re incoherent, and it takes rafe a moment to figure out what you even said.
“oh yeah?” he asks, uninterested as he rolls his hips. he glances up at you, lips parted and wet from your greedy kisses. “that why you just locked your legs round me? huh?” he teases, carelessly and you whine, throwing your head back petulantly.
“uh huh. y’know why you get so — so fuckin’ wet? huh? s’because you’ve been holding out on me. why the hell would god create this fuckin’ perfect body if it wasn’t meant to be used by me, huh? answer me that.”
“i cant!” you cry, no— sob, because you couldn’t argue. rafe was too clever for your arguments, a rebuttal to every worry in your head. it still felt wrong and dirty, but yet you clung to him— indulging in your pleasure as you fall hopelessly towards another orgasm from the way his pelvis scrapes your exposed clit.
“shit… yeah, y’cant.” he’s close too— and when he leans down close to you, he wraps his fingers around the glittering cross necklace that lies against your breast, lifting it and pressing a kiss to the centre, before bringing it to your own lips. you weakly kiss it, struggling to keep your eyes open on his and he hums in approval, dropping his hands back down either side of your head to work on fucking you quicker. “should be worshipping me, kid.” he speaks between grit teeth.
you think he might be right.
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THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - three
request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛"
WARNINGS: maybank!reader; smut!; rafe is a red flag; guns; mentions of human trafficking; 80% of it is smut you've been warned;
word count: 7.9k...
part i; part ii; part iv
Growing up, you had to develop a thick skin.
With two deadbeat parents, it wasn't a choice—it was a necessity. Unlike JJ, you never blamed your mother for leaving. She was a victim too, and despite your nightly wishes and prayers that she had taken you with her, you found solace in knowing that at least one of you had escaped the torment of the Maybank household.
You learned early on to rely only on yourself.
While you had your younger brother, you never placed that burden on his shoulders. As the older sister, it was your responsibility to take the blame for everything and to shield him from Luke's drunken or drug-fueled rages.
You never resented JJ for it, you couldn’t—neither of you asked to be born into that situation.
You tried to take each day slowly, avoiding the house and staying at John B's as much as possible.
It was easier said than done; it was hard not to feel like a burden to your friends, especially since you were the one who had to be the adult in the group.
Kie, Pope, John B…weren’t supposed to take care of you. And yet, they did. They took you in, shared their homes, and gave you the semblance of family you craved but never had. It was a weird balance, living with a foot in both worlds: the chaotic storm of the Maybank household and the calm haven of your friends' places.
At John B's, despite its share of brokenness, it provided a refuge where you could breathe without the constant fear of violence.
You often found yourself on the porch, watching the sunset over the marsh, your mind wandering to dreams of freedom. Those moments were precious, tiny pockets of peace in your life. But no matter how much you tried to distance yourself from the fucking chaos, it was always there, lurking in the background.
Luke Maybank’s shadow was long and dark, and it followed you everywhere. Each time your phone buzzed with a message from JJ, your heart would race, fearing the worst.
It was a burden you bore proudly, protecting your brother from a world that seemed determined to break you both.
You eased into being the provider, to think, to act, to protect. It became second nature, an ingrained part of your identity forged from necessity.
While others your age worried about stupid matters, you were strategizing the best ways to keep your brother safe, figuring out how to stretch what little money you had, and ensuring that there was always something for JJ to eat, even if it meant you went without.
You learned how to calm Luke down when he was on the brink of a violent outburst, and how to read the signs of an impending beating in his eyes.
You figured out which neighbors might turn a blind eye to your requests for help, and which ones might call social services if they saw too much. There were moments, rare and fleeting when you allowed yourself to dream.
You imagined a future where you and JJ were free from the chains of your upbringing. But dreams were a luxury you could rarely afford.
So, when Rafe told you—no, demanded—that you stayed in the deadbeat motel room while he met up with his contacts, you lost it.
He'd gotten the text earlier in the morning and decided he was smart enough to lure you out of this. Except he wasn't.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re not going.”
You didn’t take it lightly to people making choices for you. Your eyebrows shot up, mouth opening in indignant shock, "You think you can just order me around like I'm some puppet? I'm not staying here while you go off and do God knows what.”
Rafe's eyes narrowed. He wasn’t used to people standing up to him, you knew that. His expression hardened, the arrogance, and entitlement you’d grown to familiarize yourself with flaring up again.
"It's for your own good," his tone was condescending, like you were a child, “You don't understand the kind of people I'm dealing with. It's dangerous."
"Dangerous?" you laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. "You think I don’t know what danger is? Look around, Cameron.”
Rafe opened his mouth to retort, but you cut him off, stepping closer and jabbing a finger into his chest. You’d done a lot of that recently.
"It’s my life on the line too. And I’m not going to sit here and wait for you to come back like some obedient little bitch.”
His face practically matched the color of the deep red curtains in your room, “You’re making this a lot harder than it needs to be, Maybank.”
"No, you are," you fired back. "I’m going with you.”
“No.”
“I wasn’t asking.”
He took a step away from you, fingers pointed at his temples, “What part of fucking dangerous do you not get?”
“If it’s dangerous for me, it’s dangerous for you.”
Rafe’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tensing visibly. His gaze bore into yours, and you’d be damned if you were the first one to look away.
“This isn’t a game,” he said, clearly growing frustrated with your stubbornness, “You have no idea what these people are capable of.”
“Maybe not,” you conceded, “But I’m not staying behind and you’re not going alone.”
He let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand along his grown-out hair.
“They chew up people like you.”
“I’ve been chewed up by worse.”
He knew that.
And then, he saw the determination in you, that unyielding resolve that drove him up the fucking walls and he understood that he wasn’t going to win the fight. Unless he played dirty.
“You’re too stubborn, y’know that, right?”
You chose to ignore him, grabbing the simple sweater he’d gotten for you the day before at a local market, “So, when do we leave?”
He almost sprinted to the door, “Now.”
You moved to follow him as he stepped outside into the hallway, but before you could follow, he grabbed your arm.
"Wait."
You almost pulled away, frustration boiling over.
"What now?"
His grip tightened, "This might hurt.”
"What?" You tried to twist free, glaring at him.
"Change of plans."
Before you could react, he pushed you back inside the room, slamming the door shut. He didn’t push you hard enough to fall, but the treason came so suddenly that you nearly lost your balance as you heard the lock click, the sound echoing in the small space.
"Rafe! You piece of shit!” You pounded on the door, “Let me out! You can't do this!"
His voice was muffled but firm from the other side. "Stay here.”
"You motherfucker!" You screamed, kicking the door. But there's no clipped answer from the other side. The only sound was the echo of your own frantic breathing.
He was gone, the stupid bastard.
You collapsed against the door, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Rafe just left you there, locked like some helpless child. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall.
You were a Maybank, damn it, and Maybanks didn’t back down from a fight, even when their choices were taken from them.
In any other situation, you would’ve jumped out the window. You’d done it enough times back home, but this was different.
Your room’s floor was too high and even though you could get away with just a few scrapes or a broken finger, you couldn’t risk putting yourself in such a vulnerable state. You needed your body intact in case danger was nearby. If you had to run for your life, you needed both legs functioning.
You glanced around the room, eyes landing on the bed, the frame sturdy.
That’s it!
You thought to yourself as you rushed over and began to strip the sheets from the mattress, working quickly as you tied them together, creating a makeshift rope.
And they said pogues weren’t fucking smart.
It wasn’t your best work, but it was the best you could have under the circumstances.
Once you had fashioned the rope, you secured one end to the bed frame, testing it to ensure it could hold your weight. Satisfied that it was strong enough, you tossed the other end out the window, watching as it unfurled down the side of the building.
You gripped the makeshift rope tightly and began to lower yourself out the window. It wasn’t your first rodeo; you knew better than to rush. Your heart pounded in your chest as you slowly inched your way down the side of the building.
Finally, your feet touched solid ground, and you released a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You tried to remember bits and pieces of information Rafe had laid out the night before, about the meeting, something about a dingy marine bar, a bartender named Miguel.
You rushed back inside the motel, ignoring the puzzled look from the front desk guy as you practically demanded information about the bar. He hesitated clearly taken aback by your urgency, the way you blurted out the words, but you didn’t have time for explanations or politeness.
"Just tell me where it is," you pleaded, “It’s important.”
He scribbled down an address on a piece of paper and thrusted it into your hand.
"It's not far from here," his tone was wary, "But be careful. That place is no good for a lady on her own.”
So, nothing new, you wanted to tell him.
Any place infested with men or drunk men was a trap of its own. But instead, you only offered him a curt nod of thanks before running out the door again. You needed to find Rafe, you couldn’t afford to waste any time.
You nearly raced through the streets, the address clutched tightly in your hand. And then, before you could process what the hell was going on, a hand enveloped your upper arm, fingers digging dip in your flesh before you could make a turn, dragging you to the dark alley you’d avoided.
The situation felt all too familiar. Your heart leaped into your throat, adrenaline pumping in and out of your veins. Instinctively, you struggled against the unknown grip, kicking and clawing in a desperate attempt to break free. Were you getting mugged?
"Let go of me!" you shouted, your voice echoing off the narrow walls of the alley, “I got nothing on me, let me go you stupid fuck!”
With a surge of adrenaline, you mustered all your strength and delivered a sharp elbow to your captor's stomach, causing them to grunt in pain and loosen their hold for a moment.
You wrenched yourself free, stumbling backward as you scrambled to put some distance between you and your attacker. You were about to land the best punch of your life as you spun around to face them, but as you finally got a good look at him, fear turned into anger.
“What the fuck is wrong with you!”
“Me?” Rafe barked, all up in your personal space, “What the fuck is wrong with you? You jumped out a fucking window?!”
He knew you wouldn’t back down so easily. So he waited around the corner, hoping you were smart enough to keep still even though he knew you would never.
You blinked, the shock of seeing him in front of you momentarily overriding your anger. "You... You locked me in there!"
"Yeah, because you wouldn't listen!" he shot back, his frustration evident in his tone, “Fuck—Jesus fucking Christ.” He was shaking his head wildly, his hands balled into fists as he cursed away like a mantra.
"I told you; I'm not staying behind while you go off risking your life!" You nearly spit but managed to tone down just enough.
"And I told you, it's too dangerous for you!" Rafe's voice rose with each word, his hands balling into fists at his sides. His pacing intensified, “What the hell were you thinking? What were you gonna do? Walk in and what, huh? You don't even have a gun on you!"
“So? Give me yours!”
Rafe’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Give you, my gun?! Did you hit your fucking head against the concrete?
“I’ll hit your head against the concrete if I have to.”
His left eye twitched in irritation, the look he gave you filled with enough ire to leave a hint of satisfaction sparking in your chest, “Maybank, I have half a mind to spank you right now, don’t fucking push it.”
You ignored him, “You’d rather I go in there unarmed?” you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm, “I can do it.”
“Clearly. Look at you,” Rafe’s voice was sharp,“You think I wanted to leave you behind? You think I liked putting you in that room?”
“You didn't give me a choice! You think I was just gonna sit around waiting for you?”
Rafe sighed, palms pressing into his eyes “I’m trying to protect you, God fucking damn it. I’m trying to keep you safe.”
“Save it,” You hissed out, pressing a hand to your chest as though to keep everything in. “How am I supposed to trust you when you pull this—this shit!”
Rafe reached into the waistband of his trousers, his movements slow and deliberate. Your breath caught in your throat as he pulled out his gun, lifting his shirt in the process. He took your hand and dropped it into your palm.
“Show me.”
“Uh?”
He nodded towards the gun in your hand. “Show me you know how to handle it.”
The sudden changes in his attitude always left you speechless. You hesitated, staring at the weapon in your hand. You had never held a gun before, let alone fired one. But the authority in Rafe’s eyes spurred you to action. With trembling fingers, you checked the safety and made sure the gun was loaded, trying to mimic what you had seen in movies.
“Alright,” Rafe said, his voice low. “Now, point it at me.”
“What?!”
“I said point it at me,” he repeated, “C’mon.”
You swallowed hard, your grip tightening on the gun. This was crazy. With shaky hands, you raised the gun, aiming it at his chest. Your heart pounded in your ears, the weight of the weapon feeling heavier with each passing second.
“Good,” Rafe nodded in approval. “Now, pull the trigger.”
“What the hell?! Rafe?!”
“Trust me, Maybank, just once.”
Your breath caught in your throat.
Pull the trigger? He wasn’t fucking serious, was he? You couldn’t actually shoot him, could you?
But Rafe’s expression remained unwavering. He was being dead serious.
Maybe months ago you would’ve done it without a second guess, but now?
“I’m not pulling the trigger.”
“Just do it. You’re not going to hurt me, okay?”
With a deep breath, you squeezed the trigger, half expecting the gun to recoil in your hand. But nothing happened.
Oh. You had forgotten to chamber a round. He knew that already.
Rafe’s mouth twitched in a half-smile, as if the entire situation was normal, “You forgot to chamber a round.”
You watched him carefully, his bottom lip stuck out and, embarrassingly, you found you wanted to kiss him.
You lowered the gun, your hands shaking with adrenaline. You had just fired a weapon for the first time in your life. He reached out and gently took the gun from your hand, expertly chambering a round before handing it back to you.
“Try again.”
This time, when you aimed the gun at the wall and pulled the trigger, you felt the recoil jolt along your body as the bullet fired. The sound echoed off the walls of the alley, causing your heart to race even faster.
“Atta girl.”
“I’m still pissed, Cameron.”
“I know,” Rafe conceded as he reached up to brush your hair from your eye, fingers grazing the side of your neck. “I panicked, okay?”
You studied him for a moment, taking in the tired lines around his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged with exhaustion. He’d done so much for you over the past weeks, it shook you to the core. The countless times he had gone above and beyond, selflessly putting your needs before his own. So maybe, just maybe…you could let it go.
“Okay.”
"Let's go.”
“Wait, right now?”
“Yeah,” Rafe said, his tone brisk as he holstered the gun. "We’re late.”
Hours later, you collapsed onto the bed, wondering what the hell you’d gotten yourself into, again. The events of the meeting replaying in your mind like a broken record. You’d never met such a group of people before. And you didn’t want to, ever again.
"Human traffickers," you muttered, the words feeling foreign on your tongue. "I can't believe we just met with human traffickers."
Rafe nodded solemnly, "Yeah.”
"I don't trust them. What if... What if they decide to snatch us up and... Oh my god, what if this is all just a ploy..."
“We’re in this together, okay? I won’t let anything happen to you.”
You wanted to believe him.
Your brow furrowed, your mind racing with questions. “How do you even know these people?”
He hesitated, “Barry. It’s... a long story. But right now, what’s important is that we got a way out, yeah?”
You nodded slowly, realizing that asking him for more information wouldn’t get you anywhere.
There were more important things to worry about.
You didn’t know what was worse, running from Ward Cameron, finding yourself at the mercy of human traffickers, or potentially developing feelings for someone who’d ruined so many lives.
God, if your brother saw you now…you’d be the greatest disappointment of his life. The mere idea consumed you entirely. The things you’d done.
The way you’d let Rafe into your bloodstream.
You hated yourself for it. Everything felt like it was spiraling out of your grasp, and you hated it.
What would you even tell him? You didn’t even know if had made it, but something told you that he did. He always did. And that meant that sooner or later you’d see him, and you’d have to watch him gradually despise you.
And then there was Rafe.
The very thought of him made you want to stop breathing altogether. How could you even begin to reconcile the feelings you harbored for someone who had brought so much pain and destruction into your life? It felt like a betrayal to even consider it.
“You good, Maybank?”
You dragged your gaze away from the swirling fan on the ceiling to meet Rafe's concerned stare. He was studying you intently. You shifted on the bed, turning to face him fully.
"I don’t know,” you muttered, forcing a weak smile that didn't quite reach your eyes, “You?”
He reached out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His touch always surprised you, how surprisingly light it felt.
“I don’t know.”
He had every reason to abandon you, to wash his hands clean of the entire situation, but he hadn’t.
You nodded, a lump forming in your throat.
It was hard to believe that someone like him could be capable of such tenderness, such vulnerability. But there he was, lying beside you, his attention fixed on you with an intensity that made your heart race.
“They’re about you.”
"Me?" you repeated confused, your voice barely a whisper, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile moment between you.
Rafe nodded, scanning your face for any sign of understanding. "Yeah. You."
Your brows pulled together, “What is?”
He visibly gulped, pressing his lips together, blinking several times before releasing a held breath “The nightmares.”
You almost stopped breathing, "What about them?"
He shifted uncomfortably, “They used to be just about my mom. Then dad. Now, it’s—uh, it’s just you. Ever since that night, it’s just you. Dying, because of—yeah.”
Oh.
You hadn’t realized the extent of the impact that night had on him, on both of you
It was a lot to process, and you handy had the time to figure everything out yet.
His fingers brushed over the scar on your arm, and memories flooded your mind. The gunshots, the crippling fear you felt when they got to you, how Rafe reacted, how he touched you.
“You should’ve told me before.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
You flinched instinctively at his touch, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity through your body. For a moment, you let yourself lean into his touch, allowing the warmth of his hand to chase away the ghosts that haunted you.
"Does it still hurt?" He asked, leaning in so his nose brushed against yours; it was warm against your skin.
You shook your head, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "Not anymore."
His fingers continued their path up, eventually reaching your cheek as he cupped it tenderly, carefully, as if he’d break you if he rushed it.
You closed your eyes, savoring the closeness between you. And then, almost hesitantly, you felt him lean in, his mouth brushing against yours in a delicate caress. You hardly had to move to kiss him, only tilting your chin up.
It was tender, different from the ones you had before, just so quiet that it made you want to burst into tears.
You kissed him back, tentatively at first, then with a growing hunger that mirrored the longing you had been feeling deep within your soul. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as if afraid to let you slip away. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the dangers lurking in the shadows, not the weight of your past sins, not the uncertain future that lay ahead.
All that existed was the intoxicating feeling between you and Rafe. But as the kiss deepened, a voice of reason scolded you in the back of your mind, reminding you of the consequences of your actions. You pulled away, breathless and dizzy, your heart pounding in your chest.
“We shouldn’t…”
Rafe only stared, before he nodded, understanding dawning in him. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.
“I know,” he sighed, “Just get some rest.”
You nodded in agreement, grateful for the distraction. With a heavy grunt, you lifted yourself off the bed, making your way to the bathroom to change into some booty shorts and a simple tee.
When you emerged from the bathroom, Rafe was already settled on the bed, only in his boxers, his attention fixed on some point in the distance. You hesitated for a moment before joining him, the distance and closeness between you feeling suffocating.
You wanted to say something, anything to break the tension, but the words stuck in your throat like a lump of lead.
Instead, you settled for a nod, and a quiet “Goodnight.”
You slipped under the covers, the warmth of the blankets cocooning you in a false sense of security.
“Night, pretty Maybank.”
You shut your eyelids, willing your racing mind to quiet down. But no matter how hard you tried, sleep eluded you, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. Every creak of the floorboards, every distant sound of passing cars sent a shiver down your spine, your senses heightened to the point of paranoia. You shifted restlessly in bed, the new sheets tangling around your legs like shackles, trapping you in a prison of your own making.
You heard Rafe's voice beside you, breaking the silence of the room, “Can’t sleep if you keep moving.”
“Sorry.”
Rafe reached out, his hand finding yours in the darkness, “What is it?”
“I can’t sleep.”
His hold tightened around yours, "I know, Maybank," he spoke in a ushed tone, "But you're safe here. Try to relax, okay?"
You squeezed your eyes shut, already feeling the upcoming headache, “I don’t know how to.”
It was quiet again for a minute and you feared you’d bored the man to sleep with your insecurities, but then he spoke again.
“Turn around.”
You opened your eyes, even though you could barely see him. Was he telling you to spoon him?
“What?”
Rafe's thumb gently brushed against the back of your hand in a soothing rhythm, “Turn round f’me, kay?”
With a soft sigh, you did as he asked, turning onto your side to face away from him.
He moved closer, his body pulling against yours as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you snugly against his chest. His warmth enveloped you like some kind of shield as he pressed a light kiss to the back of your neck, his lips lingering against your skin.
“There,” he whispered, his breath tickling your ear. “Better?”
Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
These were dangerous waters.
If you couldn’t sleep before, you sure as hell weren’t about to do it now. All you could think about was that night, how he felt, how he touched you, how he fit right.
An almost overwhelming feeling of arousal took over you, and with whatever courage you had left from the day, you moved again, pressing yourself impossibly closer to him. His warmth seeped into your skin, melting away the tension that had coiled tight in your muscles during the day, you could feel every ridge and turn of his body.
Your touch drew a low, guttural groan from Rafe, his breath hot against your skin as he pressed closer, his arousal unmistakable against your back. His teeth grazed your shoulder, followed by the flick of his tongue, and you released a breathy sigh as he lowered his head to bite the area.
His arm tightened around you as you traced the contours of his fingers, mapping out the familiar territory with ease and want. His heartbeat echoed against your back, a steady rhythm that matched the frantic beat of your own heart.
His lips brushed against your neck, sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core, “Relax,” he murmured, his hoarse, “’M right here.”
With a boldness that surprised even yourself, you shifted your hips, grinding back against him, seeking the friction that would ease the ache between your legs and your head.
Rafe's reaction was immediate, his hands roaming over your body with a fervor that left you dizzy. His fingers found their way to the hem of your shorts, teasing the sensitive skin with feather-light touches. You twisted your fingers into his long hair, tugging lightly, delighting in the gasp it pulled from him.
“Tell me to stop, please,” His mouth brushed against your ear again, words coming out a slurred mess.
You ran you finger over his leg, where his boxers had risen, the warm skin driving you insane. If you lifted your fingers just a little higher, you’d be able to feel all of him.
You had to bite back a squeal when his thumb brushed over your covered nipple, “I can’t.”
You felt the tension in his muscles as he paused for a moment, his grip on you tightening. An unrestrained, almost desperate plea escaping his mouth, "Are you sure?"
You swallowed hard. This was so fucking wrong. But underneath it all, you knew what you wanted.
You turned your head slightly, your lips grazing his jawline as you muttered a "Yes."
You gasped when Rafe raised his thigh, placing it between your own, as he used his hands on your hips to guide you back and forth, grinding you down against his skin. You couldn’t remember a time you’d ever felt so out of control, so desperate for someone’s touch. The thin barrier of your shorts and panties felt like an unbearable hindrance, a small but significant obstruction to the shattering desire you needed to reach.
One of his hands slipped under the waistband of your panties, the other splaying across your stomach, holding you firmly in place. His fingers found you slick and ready, a whimper vibrating across his chest at the discovery.
“Fuck,” he breathed out, his fingers starting a slow, torturous rhythm against your clit.
You bucked against his hand, seeking more, needing more. Your head fell back against his shoulder, and you turned slightly to capture his lips in a heated kiss.
You felt his tongue press against yours and you nearly came on the spot. He slowly circled your clit, sending your hips jerking into him, “I can’t stop touching you.”
You struggled to form words as breathy moans escaped your mouth, “Please don’t,” you rasped, your thoughts turning to mush as he dipped the tips of his fingers inside you, gathering your wetness. When you finally found your voice, it was a mere screech, “Rafe...”
“I’ve got you,” he murmured back, finally pushing two fingers inside you, at an agonizing pace, “I’ve got you.”
Your jaw went slack as he curled his thick fingers, a gasp escaping when he found that spot that made you see stars. Your nails involuntarily dug into his skin. The heel of his hand pressed against your clit, pulling another moan from you. With his other hand still on your hip, he pushed you back, guiding you to grind against his fingers.
The rhythm he set was maddening.
His breath was hot against your neck, his voice a growl as he removed his fingers, making you whine in protest.
He glided one between your folds, the wetness easing up the process, “You’re so fucking perfect,” he muttered, his words sending a thrill down your spine. “Can’t get enough of you.”
“Ra—You’re gonna make me come,” you gasped as his arm left your waist, sliding underneath your ribcage and resting on your chest, kneading your breast through the fabric of your shirt, “Fuck.”
“Yeah, baby, that’s the point,” he purred into your ear, two fingers sliding inside you again, so suddenly you threw your head back again, thighs clenching together tightly as he pumped his fingers in and out.
At this point, you were lightheaded, fucking yourself back onto him, grinding down as you chased your orgasm.
“Don’t stop,” you begged, your voice trembling with desperation. “Please, Rafe...”
His fingers quickened their pace, each thrust sending oceans of pleasure down your body. “Not stopping,” he promised,“Want to feel you dripping around my fingers.”
His words sent you spiraling, the buzz inside you building to an unbearable peak. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your body trembling with the intensity of your approaching climax. Rafe's touch was relentless, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over.
“Rafe—” you cried out, your voice breaking as your orgasm crashed over you, wave after wave of intense pleasure radiating from your pussy.
Your body convulsed, and you clung to him, nails digging into his arm as you rode out the ecstasy.
Rafe held you without a break, his fingers never slowing, drawing out every last tremor of your release. When you finally came down, breathless and spent, he withdrew his fingers, not giving you a break to breathe as he shuffled behind you, pulling his boxers down, just enough to release his aching cock, doing the same to you as he slid his length between your folds.
The sensation was…everything, his heaviness pressing against your sensitive, slick entrance, the heat of him making you shiver. You bit your lip, suppressing a scream as Rafe's hand gripped your hip, holding you steady.
“Shit shit”, you breathed out, barely able to form coherent thoughts. The anticipation coiled inside you again, your body already aching for him, “’M sensitive.”
“Shhhh,” he purred, his voice husky against your ear. “Just relax, pretty.”
He rocked his hips slowly, the head of his fat cock teasing your entrance, not pushing in but sliding between your folds, spreading your wetness over his length.
Holy fuck, you’d gone to heaven.
Rafe's breath hitched, his grip on your hip tightening as he tried to control himself.
“You feel so good,” he groaned, “So perfect.”
“Oh my god,” you sighed, biting your lip when his tip bumped against your clit, “I need you to—Shit, just fuck me.”
With a slow, deliberate motion, he angled his hips and began to push inside you, inch by tantalizing inch. The stretch was exquisite, slowly filling you in a way that left you gasping, your body accommodating him with a shuddering breath.
“Jesus,” Rafe hissed, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as his cock twitched inside you. “So tight.”
Your fingers dug into the sheets, the thrill and the sensation of being filled to the hilt almost too much. You could feel every part of him, the way he throbbed inside you, the way his body fit perfectly against yours. You felt his breathing against your skin, coming out in uneven and ragged breaths.
He started a slow, steady rhythm, each thrust measured and deep, pulling out almost completely before pushing back in.
His other hand found your breasts, kneading the sensitive flesh through your shirt, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.
You couldn’t hold back the mewls that escaped your lips, each movement driving you higher, the tension building again. Rafe’s breath was ragged against your ear, his lips brushing your skin in sloppy, open-mouthed kisses.
He gently bit your earlobe, withdrawing his hips until only the tip of him remained inside you, before slowly pushing back in with deliberate, languid movements. You reached back, tangling your fingers in his hair once again.
“Rafe... harder, please,” you begged, shame thrown out the window, “I need it harder.”
He moaned, the sound vibrating through his chest as he complied, his hips snapping against you with more force, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. His hand slid down from your chest to your clit, circling the sensitive nub in time with his thrusts.
You felt the familiar coil of pleasure tightening, your body tensing as you teetered on the brink.
“Can’t belie—fuck. Can’t believe I get to have you again.”
You curved your back again, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor, your body craving the release that was so so close.
“I c-can’t hold on much longer,” you gasped, your voice barely more than a breathless whimper.
“Then let go,” Rafe growled, his fingers pressing harder against your clit. “Come for me, baby. I want to feel you.”
You groaned, “I want to see you when I do.”
Before he could answer, you pulled away from him, making him groan, but you shut him up as you turned to face him, dragging your shorts and panties out of the way, not looking where you threw them as you quickly lifted your body and settled over his, hands pressed to his naked chest as you rubbed yourself against him.
Rafe's hands gripped your hips firmly as you positioned yourself above him, “You tryn’ to kill me, pretty Maybank?”
You smirked, leaning down to press a quick peck against his lips, “Yeah.”
Without any warning, you lowered yourself onto him, both gasping at the sensation of being joined once again. He filled you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way, his tip touching your cervix.
Your movements were slow at first, savoring all of him, every sensation that rippled from end to end of your body. But soon, the slow burn grew into a raging inferno, and you found yourself moving faster, chasing that peak of pleasure one more time.
“Get this fucking thing off,” He growled, pulling at your shirt. You would’ve found it funny if you weren’t so desperate to feel him.
You sat up, quickly tugging the shirt over your head and tossing it aside. Rafe's eyes darkened with lust as he took in your bare chest, his hands immediately finding your tits, thumbs brushing over your nipples in a way that made you gasp and arch into his touch.
You started to move again, lifting yourself up before sinking back down onto him, each movement sending waves of desire through both of you.
A filthy kiss followed, all spit and tongues tangling messily as if trying to devour each other whole.
The taste of him filled your mouth, cigarettes and toothpaste, his moans mingling with yours.
The kiss was a brutal assault, his teeth nipping at your lips, drawing blood, which only seemed to fuel the frenzied rhythm of your body. Rafe's grip on your hips tightened, guiding your movements, and encouraging you to take him deeper, pounding into you, abs flexing.
You leaned forward, your hands bracing against his sturdy chest, the new angle allowing him to hit even deeper inside you. The room was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing, your cries, and the rhythmic, filthy, slap of skin against skin.
“Fuck, this pussy can’t be real,” Rafe groaned, his eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race. “Ride me harder, baby. Wanna watch you.”
You increased your pace, the friction and fullness driving you closer to the edge with each thrust. His hands moved from your hips to your waist, holding you steady as you moved, his touch grounding you even as you felt like you were about to come apart at the seams. His thumb found your clit again, rubbing it in tight, precise circles that had you crying out his name.
“Oh god, Rafe, I’m s-so close,” you panted, your body trembling with the effort to hold back your release, wanting to savor every second of this moment.
“Come for me, pretty. Wanna to feel you drippin’ all over my cock.”
That was all it took.
With a loud moan, you came, your body convulsing around him, your nails digging into his chest as the phases of your pleasure crashed over you. Rafe watched you, his expression one of pure awe, jaw slack open as his hands never left your body.
As your climax subsided, your breathing ragged and your limbs trembling, he gently kissed your temple, his lips tender. He murmured soothing words and you swore you were on cloud nine.
You felt his heartbeat, steady and strong against your own. His fingers traced lazy circles on your back, calming you, bringing you back to earth.
But as the pleasure subsided, you became acutely aware of Rafe's cock still hard and throbbing inside you. His breath was ragged, his eyes void of any color, and you knew he was on the brink. You lifted yourself slightly, feeling him slip almost out of you before you sank back down, taking him deep again, despite the way your thighs burned, the way your hole ached.
"Rafe," you called, “Need to feel you come inside me."
His grip on you tightened, his eyes briefly closing as a guttural moan escaped his lips. He released you for a moment, only to bring his hand down sharply, delivering a stinging smack to your ass,
"Watch your fucking mouth.”
The sudden impact made you gasp, the pain amplifying your desire.
Rafe's eyes snapped open,"You like that, don't you?" he growled, "Look at you."
You could only nod, breathless and aching for more. His hands returned to your hips, guiding your movements with a renewed urgency. The sting from the slap lingered, a delicious reminder of his dominance, the only place you'd let him take the lead.
You started to move again, your pace slow and deliberate, your movements designed to drive him wild. Each time you sank onto him, you could feel him throbbing, his control slipping with every passing second. His fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he tried to hold on.
"Please, baby," you whined, "I need to feel your cum."
The pet name did it.
With a growl, he shifted, flipping you onto your back and pinning you beneath him.
The sudden change made you gasp, your legs instinctively wrapping around his ass as he drove into you in a mean mating press. His pace was relentless, like he’d die if he stopped.
The sounds of your “oh’s” mixed with his grunts, only amplified the passion. You could feel the tension coiling inside him, the way his body strained against yours, every muscle taut with anticipation.
"Gonna fill you up,” he grounded out, his voice strained, "So fucking close."
You tightened your legs around him, pulling him deeper, your nails raking down his back, leaving red trails in their wake. "Come for me, baby," you urged, your desire reigniting at the thought of him finding his release, “Need you so bad.”
His eyes snapped open, locking onto yours with a feral intensity. "You want my cum?" he growled, thrusting harder, making you cry out in pleasure. "Beg for it."
"Please, Rafe," you gasped, feeling the pressure building inside you, "Fill me up. I need it. I need you."
With a final, powerful thrust, Rafe's body stiffened, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as he let out a hoarse cry. You felt the hot rush of his release, the pulsing of his cock as he emptied himself inside you. His entire body trembled, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he rode out his orgasm. You could feel him pulsing, the warmth flooding you as he let out a primal growl, his grip on you almost bruising.
And right there, another orgasm ripped through you, your body tightening around him as you cried out his name.
He collapsed onto you, both of you panting and trembling. His weight was comforting, his breath hot against your neck as he pressed soft kisses to your skin, his earlier roughness giving way to a tender aftermath.
You held him close, your hands running soothingly over his back, feeling the ridges of the muscles you had just marked with your nails. Your own body still buzzed with the aftermath of your pleasure.
When he finally lifted his head, his eyes met yours, a look of pure adoration in his gaze that left you speechless. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a tender, lingering kiss.
He cradled your face in his hands. "We’re gonna be okay," his breath felt warm against your lips.
The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten with emotion.
Tears welled up in your eyes as his lips touched yours again, the faint tender kiss so different to the man you used to know. You tried to hold back, to keep the overwhelming tide at bay, but you broke, and a sob escaped your lips.
He pulled back slightly, concern etched across his pretty features. "Hey," he murmured, his thumb brushing away the tears that spilled down your cheeks. "What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?"
You shook your head, "No, it’s not that," your voice trembled, “I’m scared.”
Rafe's expression softened, thumbs gently caressing your cheeks. "Shh, it's okay," he soothed, "Let it out, baby. I’m right here."
You buried your face in his chest, your tears soaking into his skin. The warmth of his embrace, the rhythm of his heartbeat, and his hold were the only thing keeping you together at this point and if you weren’t feeling so much, you’d feel pathetic for relying so much on someone else.
He held you tightly, his hand stroking your hair as you cried, releasing the pent-up anxiety.
"We—I, I don’t know what I’m doing," you admitted through your tears, your voice muffled against his chest. "I’m really, really scared.”
Rafe kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering, "I know, Maybank," he whispered,"I’m scared too.”
You pulled back slightly, looking up at him through tear-filled eyes. "You are?"
He nodded, his attention never wavering from features.
"Yeah, I am. This...And—don’t know what I’m doing either. But I want it. I want you."
“But it’s wrong.”
“I know, pretty.”
He pulled out slowly, both of you hissing at the sensitivity. Rolling onto his side, he gathered you into his arms, holding you close. You nestled against his chest.
“I’m sorry for jumping out the window,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his skin, “You just...make me so angry.”
He chuckled softly, his fingers running through your hair in soothing strokes. "I shouldn’t have locked you in.”
You closed your eyes, feeling the last of your tears dry against his skin. You knew things wouldn’t be easy, but his reassurance gave you a little strength.
After a while, Rafe shifted slightly, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze.
"We’ll figure this out, Maybank.”
“Promise?”
He hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly.
Promises weren’t something he was used to making, you knew that. But then he nodded.
“Promise.”
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GREEDY — j.m
pairing jj maybank x wife!reader
summary an ode to breeding kink!jj
warnings 18+, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, praise kink, dad!jj dirty-talking reader's ear off, language
author’s note this is supposed to be a blurb, so let's see if i get carried away (basically 1.4k words, definitely not a blurb but i'm not surprised). side note — i'm going back to capitalizing.
jj masterlist
One weekend.
One whole weekend away from your happy and healthy son.
Your parents had volunteered to babysit their grandson, allowing you and JJ to abandon ship and spend some much-needed time together. As first-time parents, the two of you had been running yourselves ragged. Every day seemed longer than the last as you navigated through the ups and downs of parenting. It was a challenge, but it was one that the two of you were grateful for. You both adored your son more than either of you could ever fathom, and you were overjoyed that your family of two had expanded into a family of three.
Still, you and JJ needed time to reconnect. Not as mother and father, but instead as husband and wife. Your romantic getaway was long overdue, and you'd be damned if you two were going to let those precious seventy-two hours go to waste.
In typical Y/N and JJ fashion, the two of you hadn't left the bed since you'd arrived at your family's lake house. It took JJ exactly ten seconds to shut the door, rip your clothes off and throw your body on the mattress before he went to town.
You'd always been insatiable, both refusing to keep your hands off each other. This time, though, it was different. The sneaky quickies you two partook in while your son was sleeping weren't cutting it anymore. Not that you'd ever get enough of each other, but not having the opportunity to go at it for hours like you used to was quickly beginning to frustrate you both — in every sense of the term.
"Shit, J. You're so deep," you cried out, your nails clawing jagged cuts into the skin of JJ's back. He thrusted into you hard and deep, and each stuffing of his thick cock made your toes curl and your head spin. "Hurts so fucking good."
"Christ, this pretty pussy's all stretched out around my cock. You feel how tight you're squeezing me, baby?" He gritted, pushing down on the backs of your thighs and bending you in half. He fucked you harder, each thrust knocking the wind out of your lungs as your body shook from the force. "You're taking this cock so fucking well. Love you so much, babygirl."
Curling your legs around his upper back and helping him keep your legs out of the way, you mewled loudly. Your arms slid around JJ's neck as you held him close. "Love you, J," you whined, your tongue tangling with his when your lips met in a searing kiss.
"Your pussy's so good for me, holding so much of my cum. There's no goddamn way you aren't pregnant again by the time we leave here."
"Was that your plan, Maybank?" You questioned through your panting.
"Can you blame me? I fucking loved when you were pregnant. You were taking this cock all the time, weren't you?" JJ taunted. He slowed the pace of his hips, slamming his cock into you with focus and precision. His head dropped to the crook of your neck, pressing kisses on your tingling skin before his lips found your ear. "Remember our anniversary?"
"God, yes," you called, both in response to his question and how his cock massaged every aching inch of your walls.
"Yeah? How many times did you take my cum, pretty girl?"
"Nine times, J."
"That's right," JJ cooed, his pace picking up as the memories flashed through his mind, "Nine times. You made me so fucking proud, baby."
You gasped when JJ's hips began to snap into you quicker, and your head sank further into the pillow as JJ worked his magic on you. You were getting close, and your cunt starved for another orgasm. "Want your cum, J. Give me another baby."
Your pleading tone and doe eyes sent a thrill up JJ's spine. He loved hearing you beg for him to fill you up almost as much as he loved actually doing it. "Shit," he rasped, slamming into you faster. His fingers found your clit, and he rubbed it vigorously, trying to push you over the edge. "'M gonna knock you up again so I can stuff you full of my cum as many times as I want. I think we could break our record."
"Yes, right there! Don't stop, J!" You cried. Your legs began to shake as your high raked through you, and you held onto JJ tightly.
"Go ahead, baby. Cream on my cock. I want you all over me." JJ kept his pace up until you came down. He gave you a few shallow thrusts, keeping your releases inside you as best as he could, but his circles on your clit didn't halt. They slowed, but he kept his pressure there.
Your walls continued to flutter around him, and he knew your body yearned for more. His hips snapped into you with more force, with JJ returning to burying his cock inside you as he strived to fill you up again.
"It's too much, baby. I don't think I can do it," you whimpered.
"That's okay," JJ assured you, "You can take it, pretty girl."
JJ's pace picked up, and your eyes sprang with tears in response to the paralyzing pleasure building in your core. His cock was unforgiving, ramming into your entrance with brutal force.
"I don't deserve your cock, J. It's— it's too perfect," you hiccupped.
JJ brought his face closer to yours, the thumb of his free hand stroking your cheek as his eyes locked on yours. He pressed a kiss against your lips, barely pulling away as he spoke, "Yes, you do, baby. You deserve all this fucking cock every day."
You chased his lips hazily as they murmured sweet nothings. Your lips finally connected, and JJ pushed his cock all the way inside you, completely stuffing you full. He stilled, and he felt your walls clamp down on him. You whimpered into his mouth, your hips gyrating as you fucked yourself with his cock.
JJ broke the kiss, wanting to watch the look on your face as you fought for another orgasm. "Take my cum," he spoke, "Good girl. Take my fucking cum."
Your eyes remained shut tightly, and your fingers threaded through his long locks as your high approached you. Your feet planted on his hips, giving you leverage as you fucked him.
"Open your eyes. Look at me while you fuck me, baby," JJ ordered. You opened your eyes, obeying him as you got lost in his blue orbs. The intimacy from this small act still gave you butterflies, no matter how often you and JJ found yourselves in this position (no pun intended). You moved your hips with urgency, feeling yourself on the brink. Knowing your body so well, JJ felt it too. "That's it, princess. Look into my eyes and take my cum from me. Fucking take it. Be as greedy as you want."
"J, I—"
"I know, baby. I'm right there," he said. "Cum with me."
Your moans filled the room, along with JJ's loud grunts when the two of you came. You felt JJ's cock twitch inside you as he unloaded his cum into your pussy yet again. The warmth surged through you, reaching the core of your bones and filling you with immense pride.
"Shit," JJ breathed, pulling out slowly. He watched as his cum oozed out of you, running down your skin. It threatened to soak the sheets, but JJ quickly caught it with his fingers. He pushed his seed back inside, stuffing you full of him again. You inhaled sharply at the sudden intrusion, your hips stuttering. "Can't have you wasting a single drop, baby. Need to see exactly how much of me can fit in there."
Your eyes searched his and found the flashes of lust hiding behind them. "JJ, no. Let me catch my breath," you told him.
JJ smirked, gripping the base of his cock and tapping the head against your swollen clit. Your hips jerked in response, and you could barely register what was happening before you felt JJ's cock inside you.
"J!" You gasped.
"Don't try to act all coy as if you weren't begging for all my cum five minutes ago, babygirl. We both know you'll take this cock as many times as I want."
And you did, without a fuss.
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𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄 ’ part one.
SUMMARY: jj finds himself crushing on kildare’s good girl.
PAIRING: bad boy!jj maybank x good girl!reader ( basically kook!reader. )
WARNINGS: smoking , cursing , thoughts of ‘corruption’ & violence.
listened to ‘born to die’ by lana del rey & ‘delicate’ by taylor swift & this plot was born! i’m obsessed with bad boy jj x good girl reader trope & i really liked the nsfw headcanon i did a few months back. this is one of my favorite’s i’ve ever writtenz
Your voice was sickly sweet in his ears everytime he heard it. Your words rolling off your tongue smoothly , slipping into his brain and making it go into a fog— like the highest he’d ever get. He always wanted more , listening in absentmindedly during class when you gossiped with your friends. He loved it when you laughed at something , the way your eyes would wrinkle and your hand would cover your mouth because you were embarrassed by how loud your laughter would carry. You shined in his eyes , always floating around like some god damn angel.
You were painfully innocent. Kind and friendly to everyone you came across. It was the type of innocent that all the boys adored , and all the girls found endearing. You wouldn’t hurt a fly. Everyone who knew you either loved you or hated you— the latter always one in a million. It was hard not to like you , because of your habit to cheer up even the angriest of people around you. You were a simple girl , always walking around in your little sundresses waving at everyone and wishing them a good day.
JJ adored that part of you. He found it cute the way you were so naively oblivious. When the boys would shower you in gifts and compliments , the thought of an ulterior motive never crossed your mind. You’d simply thank them with a smile , promising to do something sweet in return. It had gotten to the point that people had stopped trying because no matter what anyone did— you treated everyone the same. You were friendly and kind to everyone , no matter how hard they tried to be special or different in your eyes it just went right over your head and you didn’t give it a second thought.
Like today , in the cafeteria , JJ watched you from across the room with his hands in his pockets leaning back in his seat. His toothpick on the side of his lip hanging as he lightly chewed it. JJ Maybank out of all people— the boy who was the complete opposite of you had been so hellbent on you. Nobody really understood it but at the same time , they were all too afraid to speak up to him about it. He was violent and mean , dismissive to girls like you. The Kooky , preppy kind. But it hadn’t mattered to him because you were his only exception.
Your friend whispered in your ear , something JJ could only guess was something about him. He watched as you flushed , not being able to stop the smirk on his face as you swatted her away with the shake of your head. With eyelashes fluttering , you looked up at him , pursing your lips. He nodded your way as a sign of approval— a hello all in the same. Your lips pressed into a smile at that , wiggling your fingers lightly before adverting your attention back to your friends. The way the girls around you went to whispering in your ear caused something to swell in JJ’s chest , hoping you’d finally manage to let him have a conversation with him. For everyone else he was hard and mean— but for you , he was soft.
“You need to give up this Y/N fantasy already.” Pope interrupted JJ’s thoughts by kicking his foot from underneath the table and earned an eye roll in return. “I’m serious. You’re acting creepy.”
John B couldn’t contain his laughter , nodding his head in agreement. “Yeah , dude. I thought you’d be over it by now but it’s been like a month and a half and all you do is stare at her.”
JJ sighed in irritation. His friends constantly gave him shit about him. Not that he could blame them. If it hadn’t have been him , he’d be giving either them the same amount of trouble over it.
Any other girl would’ve been fucked and discarded by now. He never focused on one girl for more than a week , let alone over a month. But there was something about you that always made him curious , wondering how innocent you truly were. You were beautiful , prim and proper. His crush had turned into something else inside of him— obsession at best. The way you hadn’t looked at anyone else , staying to yourself and your group of friends. The girl everyone wanted but couldn’t have. There was just something about you that caused his body to react a certain way it didn’t with the others he’d been with. Just the sound of your voice made his heart race , the little looks you’d give him sending shivers down his spine.
“Shut the fuck up and mind your business , alright?” JJ grumbled out.
“Look JJ , be realistic about this—” Pope started.
“Y/N’s a kook , okay? And not just any Kook. Like practically the Kook princess. I’m pretty sure she has Sarah Cameron beat by a long shot.” John B continued listening on the reasons. “You can’t stand Kooks and she’s like—” he glanced over at you , in your pretty pink sundress. “She’s like nice and you’re not all that nice.”
JJ narrowed his eyes at John B. “I’m nice to you.”
Pope chuckled. “Yeah barely. And that’s because you have to be or you’d be homeless. I have Chem with Y/N and John B’s right. She is pretty nice. You don’t like girls like that.” He thought back to all the girls JJ had been interested in the past and none had been like you. There were all same , a bit snippy and wild. Partying at the bonfires , sleeping with him the same breath. You weren’t like that and he’d rather be honest with JJ then have his friend hurt the good in you , regardless if you were a Kook or not.
“You guys need to just mind your fucking business.” JJ spat them , clearly fed up. They should’ve known better than to push at him— his anger always got the best of him in any situation. His chair scraped loudly as he stood up and yanked his bag from off the floor.
“JJ , c’mon man—” John B called after him , but it was too late. The only reminder that the blonde had even been in the cafeteria was the doors swinging closed behind him.
The commotion caught your attention. You watched as JJ briskly walked away from his friends , an unreadable expression painted on his face. Whatever conversation your friends were in now seemed like white noise to you , knawing on your bottom lip nervously.
It was JJ Maybank. The boy all the girls talked about in the locker room. Some of things you had heard , though , you had wished you hadn’t. You felt pervy when you listened in on certain conversations about how he was in bed , rough and fucking girls like a man scorned one too many times. And you knew he looked at you. Your friends would always gush about it , saying how lucky you were to have had his attention this long. Your parents knew of him , too. Nothing good ever leaving their mouth when a conversation involved him— your dad complaining about his trouble–maker lifestyle.
The inward war in your head seemed to come to a close when your body reacted before your brain did. Looking towards your friends you flashed them an innocent smile , claiming that you didn’t feel good and wanted to use the bathroom before the period ended. Brushing off their concerns , you grabbed your own schoolbag before rushing towards the door JJ had once walked through. Your eyes flickered around the halls to find him , only barely catching sight of his blonde hair rounding the corner.
Taking in a deep breath , you took it amongst yourself to follow behind him— your legs moving before your brain could think it through. “JJ!” His name fell off your lips easily , like it was something you had practiced in the mirror for days. The way his movements immediately stopped at the sound of you , looking over his shoulder to make sure it really was you. Starting to feel nervous , you swallowed anxiously while tightening your grip on the backpack straps. “I uh— well I saw—” you flushed red as you stammered.
His eyes on you this close , just a mere foot away seemed to cause more of a reaction than you thought. Beautiful even up close , the way his lashes dusted the apple of his cheeks seemed to entrance you more up close. He still held that cocky smirk though , pleased to see you had come looking after him. His reaction was practically stoic besides that , but you weren’t inside of his chest feeling the way his heart had started beating rapidly. “Yeah?” JJ drawled out , his voice teasing.
You cleared your throat as you tried speaking again. “Well you left in a hurry and I was just making sure you were okay.” You finally managed to breathe out trying your best to ignore how shaky it sounded.
You weren’t used to things like this. Feeling so worked up over a boy. Your whole demeanor had seemed to shift just slightly , and it pleased JJ to see. “Sweet little Y/N , like always.” He hummed.
You blushed at that. The name coming from JJ made your pulse quicken. “Yeah. . .” you managed to breathe. “I–I can go. I just , you know—”
“Were worried.” JJ finished for you , finding humor in the way you stumbled over words.
“Yeah.”
Silence seemed to begin to suffocate the two of you. Suddenly you felt warm , almost sweating with JJ’s eyes on you. Biting the inside of your cheek , your nervous habit , you tucked your hair away from your face. “I have to get back to my friends—”
“Okay.” Was all he said , still looking at you. Flushing red , you nodded awkwardly and slowly started moving to turn away. You silently cursed at yourself as you began to feel embarrassed.
Before you disappeared around the corner , you heard JJ’s voice once more. “Come to the Boneyard tonight. We’re throwing a party. Come.”
You hadn’t bothered turning back or even sparing another look. His words rang around in your head— the way he looked at you burned in the front of your memory , replaying the color of his eyes.
Parties weren’t your thing and they never really had been. Your parents didn’t like them much and the crowds always seemed to overwhelm you. And the idea of being at the Boneyard of all places. . .
But something in the way that your stomach bubbled and your heart hammered— told you to raid your closet and find something pretty to wear.
The night had come faster than neither you or JJ would’ve liked it to. You were a bundle of nerves. You had reapplied your lip gloss for what seemed like the hundredth time. And JJ just as equally on edge wondering if you’d even show up. As cool as he tried to play it , he knew it wasn’t cool. He wanted you there , to sneak you off somewhere to have you all to himself the way he had fantasized about. Too afraid of the chance of you not bothering to show up— though he couldn’t be too mad at you with the way he had invited you ( he wasn’t even sure you heard him ) , he hadn’t told the Pogue’s about it.
Wanting to play it safe rather than sorry.
Little did he know how determined you actually were. You picked out the prettiest thing in your closet , wanting to look your best. Paying attention to the littlest details , butterflies swirling in your stomach at the anticipation to see him. It seemed like a long time coming , anyway. Right? Your friends had noticed it before you had and at first , you weren’t sure to even bother. But JJ— JJ was different than all those other boys that tried it on with you. That’s all they seemed to be , boys. But JJ was more than that. You could tell in the way he carried himself. How closed off he was. There were things about him that nobody knew , things he had kept hidden about himself. Short sentences and broading shoulders , you knew there was more to him and your eagerness to know was foreign to you.
You had debated on calling one of your girlfriends to go with you. That’s what you had told your parents anyway. You knew they’d be furious with you if they found out where you really going , so you shrugged it off as just a get together with your girlfriends. Your excuse also allowed you to be out later than your normal curfew. Lying wasn’t something you liked to do and so you considered calling your friend— Jessie , to go with you but you didn’t feel like explaining it to her or anyone else for that matter.
Your mother allowed you to take her car and as you drove off towards The Cut , you did feel a little bad for your lie. The whole thing made you feel guilty and considered turning around and blowing the whole thing off , but the excitement you felt of seeing JJ again triumphed it.
You were a mess when you pulled up. You inwardly cursed yourself for the position you were in now. There was no way of finding JJ other than scouting through the crowds for the familiar color of his dirty blonde hair , hoping it wasn’t covered with a hat. Being by yourself made you feel open , and you fidgeted with your hands as you walked towards where everyone was— the sound of music booming on the beach helping you know where to go.
The moonlight illuminated your path just enough for your feet to hit the sand , the fire doing the rest. Your eyes flickered around to see any familiar face , but there was so many people. Red solo cups everywhere , the smell of weed making your nose crinkle. It wasn’t until now that you realized how in over your head you were.
Taking a deep breath , you gained the courage to move. You smiled at the people who glanced your way with wide eyes , not expecting to see you there. Sheepishly you waved , hoping to find someone you had at least more than one conversation with.
It took a bit of searching until you finally found someone. Pope Heyward.
He was JJ’s friend and the two of you had Chem together. Once even being partnered together. Taking a breath of relief , you politely pushed your way towards him , chewing harshly on the inside of your cheek. He hadn’t noticed you— not until you nervously approached in front of him.
When his eyes landed on you , his face went pale. He had to blink a couple of times to make sure it was really you. “Y/N?” He said your name confused , glancing around nervously. “What’re you doing here?” Pope asked but he had feeling he knew.
Pulling at your fingers you shrugged and tried to look around him to see if JJ was anywhere near. “It’s me.” You laughed lightly , flushing. “JJ invited me.”
“Oh!” He chuckled with eyes flickering around crazily. You cringed to yourself embarrassed and when Pope noticed , he quickly spoke again. “Not like a bad oh! Just a surprised oh. I didn’t think you came to things like this.” Pope explained himself.
“It’s okay , trust me I know.” You brushed it off to ease the tension between the two of you now , hoping it’d disperse. “But um— I don’t know.” You shrugged. “Wanted to see what it was like s’all.”
Pope nodded in understanding and wrapped an arm around your shoulders loosely , looking around again. He could tell you felt uncomfortable and wanted to make you feel a little better before finding JJ. “Did you come by yourself?” He asked , a bit of concern lacing his voice.
“Um , yeah.” You grimaced at how small you sounded but the look on Pope’s face made you feel a little better. “I figured I’d already know some people here and look— I found you.” You offered a grin , to which Pope gratefully returned.
“I’m sure JJ’ll be happy you’re here.” He assured you with a confirming nod.
He helped guide you through the mess of people towards the Kegs , and you spotted him. Your stomach fluttering at the sight of him. He wore his usual white t–shirt though it was a little more tighter than you were used to seeing. It hugged his biceps well and the sight made your legs feel like jelly. A backwards hat on top of his head. He was laughing giddily with John B and a couple other friends , his arm around his friend shoulders.
John B spotted the two of you first. His eyes widened just like Pope’s had and he quickly nudged JJ’s shoulder obnoxiously , pointing towards the two of you.
When JJ looked over and saw you , he couldn’t help but the accomplished smile that took over his face. His eyes scanned you slowly , not bothering to hide how he was checking you out. You were still wearing his favorite— a pretty little sundress , in the color light pink this time. He almost groaned at the sight. The night sky did you justice , drawing attention to the highlights of your face , the plumpness of your lips. He found you to be the most beautiful he had ever seen you.
“There’s no fucking way.” John B mumbled as you approached them obviously anxious as you smiled.
“What’d you know.” JJ spoke up , grinning at you. “The Kook Princess actually came.”
The name he used for you made you flush but you roll your eyes all the same. Trying to play it cool , you simply shrugged and looked around. “Thought I’d see what the hype was all about s’all.”
JJ threw his head back in laughter. Knowingly. “Of course you did. Well—” he threw his arms up and gestured towards the atmosphere. “Thoughts?”
“It’s alright.” You hummed and turned your attention towards John B who was watching the interaction with his jaw slacked open. “Hi John B.”
“H–Hey.” He stuttered in surprised. “I can’t even lie right now I’m fucking shocked to see you here , Y/N.”
Closing your eyes in a bit of frustration , you nodded slowly. “So I’ve been told. Twice.” You emphasized the word.
“Right.”
Rocking back and forth on your heels , JJ dropped his arm and walked closer to you. You looked up at him through fluttering lashes coated in mascara , the blush you wore drawing attention the way the smell of his cologne made you flush. “Want a drink?”
Looking back at the keg , you shook your head timidly. “Any water?”
“Inside.” JJ told you. Without wanting he reached down and grabbed your hand , pulling you towards you and away from Pope. “Catch you guys later.” He said , pulling you in the direction of the Chateau.
His hand in yours was like salt and ice. It burned so bad but in a way that made your breathing hitch and mind become hazy. You liked it. Ring clad fingers squeezing your own.
“I didn’t think you’d come.” JJ admitted as the two of you walked in the kitchen. You leaned against the counter and watched as he moved towards the fridge. “Didn’t think it was your scene.”
“It’s not.” You quipped. The smirk on his face making you squirm. “Like I said , I was curious.”
JJ chuckled and walked towards you again. Just like in the hallway , his attention attentively on you as you shifted foot to foot. Handing you the water bottle you reached for it , fingers grazing his making you gasp lightly. Blushing you cleared your throat. “Cold.”
Your reaction to him made his chest feel big. The way you were squirming around trying to act all confident when JJ knew you weren’t. Humming to himself , he stepped towards you closer. One arm leaning on the counter your back was using , the other reaching out to touch your necklace. Your breathing hitched once again , caught in your throat as his hands danced on your skin lightly. Barely touching but just enough to make you feel it.
“You look pretty.”
The sentence was simple and sweet. Something you had heard a thousand times before. But hearing it come from JJ made you feel different. It made your stomach bubble and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You hadn’t even noticed how hot the tips of your ears were starting to get. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
You almost laughed how the situation mirrored the one from this morning. Cocking your head to the side , you decided to speak up again. “Do you like me?” The question slipped before you meant it to and you instantly regretted it. JJ’s face didn’t falter though , instead his face only looked amused.
“Why do you ask?” He was teasing you now. His tone of voice showing it off.
“Well— well because! My friends always catch you looking at me in school and sometimes when I’m in the library it looks like you’re going to talk to me but you never do and— and you invited me here.” You squeezed your eyes shut in pure embarrassment. Your cheeks were surely flamed red and you were positive you sounded like an idiot.
JJ softened at your expression.
“You’re right.” He started watching as you slowly peeled your eyes open to look at him. “I do all those things and I do it because—” pausing he tried to figure out what to say. JJ did like you , alot. But you were fragile and delicate , the prettiest flower out of a whole entire garden. And as much as he wanted to pick you and keep you forever , he couldn’t stand to be the reason you wilted. For the first time that JJ could ever remember , he didn’t want to hurt you. “I like you , Y/N—” his words barely above a whisper.
“But. . .” you guessed.
“But you’re you and I’m me. You’re everything good in this world and I don’t want to go corrupt that.” Selfishly he did , but he wouldn’t— couldn’t , be selfish when it came to you.
You paused to look at him. Searching his face for any sign of anything other than him being truthful. You were quick to find that there was nothing there. He was being genuine and your heart lurched at that , speeding up like crazy. You knew it was insane. The idea of you and him. You knew he was violent , and a player and just the type of boy your mother always told you to stay away from.
Shamefully , you weren’t strong enough to walk despite all the facts spelled out in front of you.
“I like you , too.” You said carefully. Studying him as you spoke. He hung on to every word , absentmindedly leaning in a bit closer each second. “That’s enough for now.”
Your words made his eyes flutter closed. His forehead leaned against yours as you felt every sense in your body overload. Goosebumps rising.
“For now.” He let out breathily.
It would be enough. For now.
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Sick Leave
Synopsis: There has never been a time where she was ‘too sick’ to go to work.
Request: Could you do a Spencer x BAU Reader where she is sick but doesn’t want to admit it and comes into work? Please?
Warning: SpencerxFemReader, ambiguous relationship, symptom descriptions, sans Spencer’s germophobia, light displays of affection // let me know any I missed!
Word Count: 1.8k
Masterlist
If you had asked me what my problem was that morning, I would have endless options but I couldn’t really decide on which one was actually the front runner. Maybe the inability to breathe properly, maybe the scratchiness at the back of my throat, or maybe it was the headache that seemed to be wrapping around my head like it’s own imaginary gym headband. But maybe, it was the way I still went to work, having taken some medication and telling myself the symptoms would subside. Or at least I hoped they would.
I had stopped by my desk, trying to rub the pressure from my head as I felt a pair of eyes on me, studying me in my state from across the aisle. “Are you feeling okay?” Most sounds had only made my headache twinge in sharp pain, but I was thankful that didn’t seem to be the effect with him. His voice was a cool breeze, wrapping around my shoulders to fight the heat that had rushed over my skin.
“Pfft, yeah. I’m fine.” I tried to dismiss him though, turning to see the rightfully deserved quirked up eyebrow he was casting at me. “I’m fine.” Was another attempt at reassurance that probably would’ve been believable if, in my state, I hadn’t also tried to take a step forward towards my chair, and nearly stumbled on my two feet, almost falling to the ground.
Spencer was soon behind me though, pulling me up onto my feet with an arm around my waist as he pulled me to his chest, safer there than the floor. He kicked my chair further out with his foot as I grabbed onto the desk for stability, the both of us wrestling my body towards the seat.
“You’re definitely not fine.” Was huffed into my ear as I was finally seated, eyes all over me as he backed up slightly, assessing me in my state. The back of his hand raised to my forehead, bottom corner of his lip pulling inward. “You have a fever.” I avoided looking into his eyes as his hands slipped under my ears on both sides of my head and towards the back of my head, somewhere near where my hairline met my neck, fingertips pressing into the skin in their vicinity. “And I can feel how swollen your lymph nodes are.” I would blame the potential fever on the blush that rushed to my cheeks, knowing that the way he was holding my head was a bit more intimate than acceptable for simple coworkers. If Derek had held Emily or JJ’s head like this, there would be room for concern or rumors.
“What is that supposed to even mean?” An attempt to breathe through my nose had him recoiling back, the proof that I was congested hanging between us.
“It means you’re sick and need to go home.”
“You’re not even a medical doctor. You can’t make that call.” His stare softened as his hand reached up once more to brush hair from my face to behind my ear.
“Do you want to talk to Hotch or should I?”
“I don’t want to go home. I want to work.” I forced the pout on my lips, knowing my bottom lip jutting out was often how I got him to cave in an argument. But he simply closed his eyes and turned away from me, moving back towards his desk.
“Okay,” was his admit of defeat, “Fine. I just feel like you should go home. Just trying to look out for you.” There was a layer of hurt in his words that made me feel guilty. Spencer buried his nose in a book, practically ignoring me from my side of the aisle, and that might’ve hurt more than his words. No matter how aggressive my cough had become, or how many times I sneezed, not a look, not a ‘bless you’, nothing. It was just an effort to look out for me, we both knew this. But I was stubborn, and it honestly just felt like a head cold. I could work through a head cold with medicine. I had done it before, I could surely do it again.
-
I’m not sure when, and I’m not sure how. All I know is, I was being woken up by someone shaking my arm, and when I opened my eyes, Aaron Hotchner was squatting down at the side of my desk, a sympathetic smile on his face. Dad Hotch was coming out for me in his smile, a sharp contrast to the stern exterior that usually accompanied SSA Hotchner. “Go home.” Was all he offered, the corner of his lips never falling.
“No,” it came out more of a whine than I had originally meant, my head pounding as I lifted it from where it had been resting on my arms. “I want to stay.”
“You’re sick. And you were sleeping here for an hour. Go home.” Another attempt at pleading with him would have dropped cold on the floor, and I wasn’t going to argue with him when he just explained to me how long I had been out. Gathering my things from my desk, Aaron walked me towards the sixth floor elevator bay, where Spencer joined us.
“I got her from here.” The grudge from earlier had been dropped, as his hand reached for my bag, draping the strap onto his other shoulder that wasn’t occupied by his own work bag. Aaron offered him a smile and nod before reentering the BAU glass doors, the only other company with Spencer and I being the hum of the elevator car as we waited. I kept my arms wrapped around myself, feeling very much like a child in a child swap dynamic. “Told you.” He muttered under his breath as he rocked from his heel to his toes. Rolling my eyes at him, I entered the elevator when it finally showed up, Spencer reaching over for the ground floor button as the door closed us in.
On the few occasions Spencer and I had carpooled to work, Spencer had noted that I tend to park in the same area and I tried to explain to him it was the prime parking spot location, and the banter had fallen off after that. Now, I was happy he seemed to know where I would have parked that morning, his hand reaching into my bag for my car keys. I had wanted to drive, but it was another instance where Spencer seemed to know better than me, and my energy was dwindling to maintain any fight that could start between us.
The drive home was quiet and I was fighting sleep. I would never admit to being sick and/or tired, but I was grateful for being sent home. I was grateful for having someone like Spencer as my coworker and my ‘something more’, but I didn’t know to what extent I was entitled to some actions. “Are you at least going to stay with me?”
“I’m taking you home, aren’t I?” There was a twinkle in the corner of his eye as he tried not to laugh at me, doing a terrible job of suppressing his humor from his lips. I sank further into my seat as we traveled further from Quantico and closer back to the residential part of DC. I had already fallen asleep at work, surely Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if I fell asleep on the car ride home.
-
“We’re here.” This time, I was woken by Spencer’s hand on my thigh as he had opened the passenger door and was working on getting my seatbelt off of me. Something he couldn’t quite do as my arms were once again wrapped over my chest and my head was resting against the strap as it crossed my shoulder. I just grunted as I reached for my bag that had been at my feet, seeing Spencer had once again placed the strap over his own shoulder to carry it for me. He stepped to the side as I tried to climb out, offering a hand for me to hold when he thought I might need it.
I was still capable enough to unlock my apartment in my state, but that didn’t stop Spencer from wanting to stay, entering my place with me. He placed my bag on one of the bar stools, like he’d seen me do countless times before, then just kind of watched me as I moved through my space. Sleep hadn’t left my system just yet, as I bumped into the door frame into my room, immediately pulling my top off, attempting to throw it towards the hamper. My pajamas had been resting on the foot of my bed and I had fully changed over to those by the time Spencer entered my room, hand in his pockets as he watched me from the door. “You didn’t have to tell Hotch.” I tried to chide him as I pulled the layers of fabric back from my spot on the mattress.
“I didn’t.” I raised my eyebrow at him, his head bowing as he took a moment to laugh under his breath, stepping into the room now. “You fell asleep at your desk. He asked what was wrong and I just told him you hadn’t been feeling well.”
“So you snitched on me?”I climbed into bed, back under my covers because that seemed like the best place for me to be in this moment. If I had been sent home from work, I was simply going to sleep the day away. Spencer sat on the side of the mattress, reaching for the covers to pull them over my body for me.
“Get some sleep.” The look of adoration was so intense, I thought I might actually see cartoon hearts take form in his eyes, his hand reaching up to gently brush the pad of his thumb over my cheekbone.
I couldn’t stay mad at him, not for being overprotective or for telling Hotch. He was doing what he thought was best in an effort to care for me, and where it maybe hadn’t been how I would’ve handled the situation, it was only in my best interest. I reached for his hand as it rested between us now, trying to interlace my fingers with his. He let it happen, his focus seemingly only on our hold. “Spenc-”
“Sleep.” A kiss was applied to my forehead before I laid back against the pillows, watching him as he moved from the bed back towards the door frame, hand lingering over the light switches.
“Thank you.”
“Anytime.” Pressing a hand to my lips, I blew him a kiss as he turned off the lights in my room, a blush rising to his cheek as he cracked the door in his exit. I listened for the sounds of his departure from the apartment, but instead only heard the sounds of him moving through the kitchen, probably making lunch. I pulled the pillow next to me closer, trying to imagine it was him, that it had been him cuddling me into tranquility as I drifted off to sleep.
-
For the alternate twist on this trope, check out my SickSpencerxFemReader fic here!
Thank you for reading!
#criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fandom#spencer reid x you#angst#spencer reid x y/n#oneshot#comfort#aaron hotchner#ask fic#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid y/n
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the one time you got sick, you'd never forget it because pope heyward was with you the whole time. at your worst, as you stomped up his doorstep, he took care of you with all his being.
it was a chilly season, as the autumn leaves turned a bright crisp. cascades of oranges, maroons, and golden floated down to gently scrape the floor. you liked it the best, with your sweaters, and knitted hats. you'd made pope some matching ones, and jj teased him for being so pussy whipped.
of course, pope wore it everywhere the two of you went. it was crochet so you'd taken extra time to make sure it fit him. you liked making him these sorts of things because sometimes it was hard for you to use your words. sometimes your tongue felt like an awkward sludge in your mouth—but pope had this way of making you feel enough. there were times where his expression brown eyes, and that smile he gave you was enough for you to sigh and hum.
see it was you acting dazed around him was where you got this cold in the first place. no, that wasn't really the answer, but you'd like to think it was.
"if you hadn't distracted me, i wouldn't have this cold!" you croaked out, sniffling quietly as pope gave you a cup of tea. you'd stomped onto his step, shaking from the cold, your lips cracked. this was the day that the two of you had put aside for a date.
pope had gotten a few scholarship things done, and you'd put time aside from school. but as you stood there on his doorstep you knew pope was looking at you with nothing but sympathy. but you still raged on.
"hmm, how did i distract you?"
you could tell he was trying to distract you. (or maybe take care of you, but you were too mad to distinguish the difference between the two,) it was that absentmindedly way he was gently dragging into his room. it was the way the space between his forehad creased as he studied your temperature. it was the way he told you to sit down on the bed.
"by..." suddenly you felt a bit inadequate, stumbling on your words as you watched pope dabb your forehead. then you just huffed, folding your hands across your chest. it was very hard to be unreasonable when pope was being so kind, but the ache in your throat was helping you become more vengeful.
"by being too cute!"
at this pope hummed again, a smile on his face, "yea? by being too cute? that's your reasoning?" he laughed again, but then watched your face crumble up, and quickly looked serious again.
"shit, i'm sorry. i'm not very good at this," pope muttered, quickly trying to fix your spacing. "c'mon bambi, no need to cry," he cooed. then suddenly he was shuffling everywhere at this point, fixing the blanket, bringing you a different cup of tea because the goddamn tea was too cold, and then telling you maybe he could put on a nature film because you really liked those—
and that's when you burst into tears, "i'm so mean."
he stilled. you took that as an agreement, and you settled again. tears streamed down your face freely as you clutched the stupid childhood stuffie in your hand. apparently pope had thought that little paddington bear had magic powers when he was younger. he had given it to you because he thought you'd feel better. he was so good to you.
"pope, i'm cranky, and i'm blaming you," you cried, then you snuggled closer to the bear, "and you gave me your bear! you gave me the bear," you whispered those words quietly, solemnly like a grave mistake that would never leave.
finally, he turned back to you. his face was soft as he wiped away your tears. he was staring at you with a gentle fondness, "you're sick. you're a little grumpy. you're going to be fine."
you stopped your sniffling at that, feeling your heart swell up. your voice was soft, a bit creaky as you whispered to him.
"you think?"
"i know."
you laughed, in that watery way of yours as you brought the bear closer to your chest, "of course you know." then you bit your lip as you watched pope purse his lips in that solemn, all-knowing way of his.
"yeah, baby, i know."
then despite the fact that you probably had snot running down your nose, that your hair was a mess, and that you had been awful to him, pope pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead and that was it.
you knew you were going to be fine.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ໒꒰ྀི´• ˕ •` ꒱ྀིა ♡
#pope heyward prompt#pope heyward x reader#pope heyward#sweet talk ໒꒰ྀི´• ˕ •` ꒱ྀིა ♡#pope heyward fanfiction#pope heyward imagine#obx fic#kook!reader#lamb!reader#yes i'm posting so much more- but idk if i like this one...whatever
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Unsub! Reid x Reader
18+ murder, blood, sex
Y/n typed away at her computer as she thought about what to have for dinner, her mind going back and forth between forcing herself to cook or ordering takeout. Sighing she looked at the clock, 10 minutes left and she could pack her bag and be out the door by 5pm. Her nails clicked against the keyboard as she finished up the last report, her job just to check the BAU’s reports and finalise any details before they were sent to head office for review. It sounded easy, but each case brought in one report per BAU member and some of them ran behind more often than not, not that Y/n blamed them with their insane work schedule.
“Hey Y/n.” Spencer’s voice was chirpy as he poked his head into her little office, a small smile gracing his face as Y/n grinned and ushered him in.
“Hey Spence, you got more reports for me?” Y/n teased as she held out her hand, Spencer blushing slightly with a nervous smile handing her three folders with messy papers inside as Y/n shook her head and laughed.
“I swear if you weren’t so cute i’d kick you out of my office for handing these to me at 10 to five.” Spencer could feel his ears burn as she complimented him, her eyes now on the paperwork as she skimmed it, she knew she’d only have to upload his work since she’d never found a single error in the past 3 years.
“Thanks Y/n.” Spencer stumbled over his words as he pushed his hair back and waved, exiting her office as Y/n sighed and placed the folders on top of the others she had accumulated in the last few hours. It was a friday and she didn’t want to stay late but the thought of picking it all up Monday was much less appealing.
She could hear everyone saying bye and leaving, JJ, Emily and Derek popping their heads in to wave goodbye whilst Y/n waved and continued typing up the reports.
“Hey Beautiful.” Penelope spoke as she entered, sitting across from Y/n as they grinned at each other, Y/n taking a break to lean against her hand and stare at her friend.
“Hey gorgeous, what can i do ya for?” Y/n winked at Penelope as the blonde giggled and looked at her desk.
“I fancy a sex on the beach and you’re just the gal i’m looking for to provide it.” Penelope flirted back, the two laughing as Y/n leant back in her chair and looked at her reports, she was only half way through the first of three that she wanted done. Penelope quickly stood and placed her hands on the folders, Y/n pouting at her friend as she gave her a devilish grin.
“The reports will be here Monday, however $3 cocktails and nachos won’t be.” Y/n rolled her eyes and stood up, Penelope cheering as she watched Y/n grab her bag and turn off her computer.
“In that case how could i say no?”
Y/n and Penelope laughed loudly as they drank their fourth cocktail, a pornstar martini, the both merry as they spoke about their plans for the weekend.
“Honestly i think i’m going to be so hungover tomorrow the way we’re going that i’ll be laid on the sofa all day.” Y/n laughed as Penelope spoke about her plans, Y/n agreeing as the pair ordered two more cocktails.
“So…how was your date?” Y/n groaned at Penelope’s comment, sinking into her seat as she sipped from her straw.
“I thought it went really well, we shared a kiss and he promised to call me the next day. Three days later i tried to call him, which sounds so desperate now i say it but he was really nice y’know? And it says the number doesn’t exist.” Penelope reached over and took her hand, sympathising with her friend as Y/n finished her cocktail and smiled at the waiter as he brought the next round. The cute black haired man winking at her as he placed the cocktail in front of her, a napkin placed next to it as he walks away. Penelope grabbed the napkin and squealed, Y/n sitting up straight as she looked between her friend and the cute waiter.
“Well then tonight just might be your lucky night! He left his number and wrote he finishes at 11.” Y/n blushed and grinned as she took the paper, looking towards the waiter where he stood, leaning against the bar with his finger in a call signal grinning at her. Y/n turned back to Penelope and the pair giggled and began drinking their cocktails, the waiter coming over and flirting with Y/n periodically.
Penelope looked at her watch with a drunken grin, standing up on wobbly legs as she pulled out her phone and dialled Derek knowing he would come get her in a heartbeat.
“Well my beautiful squirrel friend, it is 10 to 11 and the hot waiter is basically undressing you with his eyes so i am going to take my leave. Don’t do anything i wouldn’t.” Y/n laughed, standing and hugging Penelope before she watched the bubbly blonde leave, hearing her speak to Derek as the waiter walked over.
“Can i get you another drink? On me.” His hand extended as Y/n placed hers in his, allowing him to pull her from the booth and towards the bar as she grinned at him.
“I fancy a nightcap.” The waiter grinned widely as he threw his apron behind the bar and they walked to the exit.
“Whatever the lady wants. James.” Y/n shook his hand as she introduced himself, glad she was more than tipsy for some friday night fun. She needed a pick me up and here was a handsome tall black haired waiter to provide just that.
Y/n stumbled as she walked, James laughing as he held her up, the pair talking about anything that came to their heads before Y/n’s phone buzzed. Pouting, she stopped walking, James holding her elbow as she answered it.
“Hellloooooo.” Y/n’s voice was full of cheer as she grinned at James, wiggling her eyebrows as he dropped his head to her neck and peppered kisses along the exposed skin.
“Hey Y/n, it’s Spence, are you at home?” Y/n covered the speaker and whispered to James.
“Stop distracting me.” Her smile giving away that she wanted him to do it more as he pulled her into his chest and kissed her. Parting quickly as she placed the phone back against her ear.
“Hey Spencey, no i’m out right now, is everything okay?” Her voice sweet as she swayed in James’ arms, his hands roaming her body and pinching her eliciting drunken giggles as she looked at him.
“Mrs Fredicks just knocked saying Dorito has somehow climbed onto her fire escape and she’s got him with her.” Y/n face palmed as she moved off of James and mouthed an apology to him as she sobered up slightly.
“Oh god, okay i’ll be back asap, i swear i locked all the windows but he is an escape artist.”
“Sorry.” Y/n hushed Spencer, thanking him for calling her and hung up. Turning to James she gave him an apologetic smile and leaned into his arms.
“I am sorry James but i have to go, my cat has decided to cockblock me.” James laughed and placed a kiss on her lips, his hands squeezing her hips as she let out a small moan.
“It’s okay Y/n, next time you come to the bar, drinks will be on me.” Y/n grinned as she waved goodbye and hailed a taxi.
Y/n sighed as she knocked on the apartment below hers, smiling apologetically to Mrs Fredicks as she older lady opened the door with her ginger cat in tow.
“Here you go.” Y/n apologised profusely as she took Dorito from her neighbour, the older lady waving her off with a smile.
“It’s okay, he’s a sweet boy.” Y/n thanked her again as the door closed, turning and holding her cat up to face her as she scowled at him.
“You Mr Dorito are in big trouble.” Y/n placed kisses over his face as she cuddled him close, unlocking her apartment and letting Dorito in before she went around and found the bathroom window open. Shaking her head she closed it, she swore she had closed that before she left this morning but she must have forgotten. Sighing she kicked off her shoes and grabbed her slippers, exiting her apartment and walking over to the door on the right knocking as she waited for an answer. Spencer answered moments later with a sleepy smile, matching check pyjama’s on brand for him as Y/n smiled up at him.
“Hey Pretty boy, thank you for calling me. Dorito’s all safe and sound.” Spencer nodded and leant against his doorway as he took her in, the smell of cocktails and her smeared lipstick giving her away before she yawned and rubbed her eyes.
“Thank you again Spence, have a good night.” Y/n waved to him as he wished her good night back and closed his door. Y/n entering her apartment and stripping down before flopping on her bed and passing out.
Y/n was awoken suddenly as she heard her phone blaring, her head pounding as she got out of bed and wandered around her apartment searching for the obnoxious noise. Finding her phone buzzing on the sofa she grabbed it and answered it quickly.
“Hello?” Y/n didn’t have a chance to fully wake up before she heard Penelope’s loud voice.
“Oh my god you’re okay! Thank god! Have you seen the news?” Y/n held the phone away from her ear before yawning and shaking her head.
“No, why?” Y/n heard Penelope gasp before she said she’d be over soon, before Y/n could say anything the phone was cut off. Sighing she wiped her eyes and turned on the tv, her jaw dropping as she saw James’ picture all over the news.
“A man was detained last night after police found human remains in his house and garden. The suspect was apprehended and arrested by local law enforcement for three hours before a handwritten confession was handed to the chief. The man’s name is James Stevens and he is being held in police custody until a court date can be arranged. So far none of the remains have been identified but we have been told there was atleast three women’s bones found with potentially more to be discovered. This was the morning news at 8am, stay tuned for the weather.” Y/n turned the tv off as she stared at the screen wide eyed, she had almost gone home with him, she could have been his next murder. She could feel her body shiver in disgust as she ran the shower, turning it up as she climbed in and tried to clean the man off her, scrubbing at her lips and cleansing herself. Climbing out she wrapped a towel around herself, hearing her apartment door open and the sound of Penelope clattering about.
“In the bedroom.” Y/n shouted as she grabbed a t-shirt, throwing it on and pulling on some underwear as Penelope ran in and pulled her into a tight hug.
“When i saw the news i almost had a heart attack!” Y/n let out a small laugh and hugged her back.
“I’m okay, luckily Spence called me as Dorito had gotten out.” Penelope let go of Y/n and picked Dorito up from the bed, the ginger cat letting out a grumble as she kissed him dramatically.
“You angel Dorito!” Y/n laughed and shook her head as she walked through her apartment and flopped onto the sofa, Penelope carrying Dorito as she came in and sat beside her.
“Seriously though, that’s so creepy.” Y/n nodded as she ran her hands down her face, fingers pulling on her under eye as she groaned.
“Why is my life like this?” Penelope pat her friend's arm as she grabbed the remote and turned on Netflix.
“Let's have a chill day.” Y/n nodded as she grabbed her phone and sent Spence a quick text thanking him for calling her last night.
Spencer grinned as he read the message, his apartment dark as he laid on his sofa, his eyes moving to the tv where he watched the video of James being arrested again. He felt pride surge through him as he stood, his hand running along the fabric of the sofa as he entered his kitchen, sighing to himself as he began cleaning the blood soaked knife.
Y/n smiled at Spencer as she opened her apartment door, Spence smiling back as he took in her attire, a fitted white blouse and black jeans which complimented her figure.
“Thank you for walking me in, sorry it was such short notice i’m still a bit freaked out from the news.” Spencer nodded and moved so Y/n could lock her door, placing the key in her bag before turning to Spencer.
“It’s no problem Y/n, i love walking in with you.” Y/n smiled widely at Spencer as the pair began walking down the stairs, Y/n listening intently to Spencer’s ramble about the new chest move he had learnt over the weekend. His voice full of joy as he moved his hands around explaining how it would corner most opponents, his laugh contagious as she laughed too and explained how she had only won one chess game in her whole life.
“You’ll have to come round and have a game with me, i’ll teach you everything.” Y/n blushed slightly as she agreed, pushing her hair behind her ear and grinning.
“That would be amazing, thank you Spence.”
Spencer walked around his apartment, his mind whirling as he tried to make everything look purposefully out of place and disorganised as he wanted everyone to believe he was. He’d cleaned the apartment from head to toe before casually splitting coffee and placing a mug over it to make mug stains over the various surfaces. The kitchen had coffee granules and sugar sporadically spread across it to emanate use, the fridge had a mixture of fresh and out of date food, not by a lot but enough that he could be seen as forgetful of it. He’d laid certain books out, coffee stains on specific pages and a pen that he’d broken leaked onto another one. His bed was lazily made, spraying his everyday scent onto the pillows and the sofa to make it seem like he was there often. He’d left a few articles of clothing in a pile on the floor, all clean but purposefully mixed about to create a laundry pile. His bathroom had a toothbrush on the sink, toothpaste put in a cup and a couple of body washes sat at the bottom of the shower. A fresh towel he’d sprayed down with water hung up on the radiator, and the window cracked slightly. It looked like someone truly lived in it, as opposed to his normal almost borderline military lifestyle within the four walls. He placed a case file on the coffee table, opening it and placing pictures around to look like he’d recently looked through it, a half finished coffee sat next to it along with a breakfast bar wrapper. Nodding he concluded it was perfect before he texted Y/n to say she could come over whenever she was ready. It took her 30 minutes before she knocked, 30 minutes of pouring over each detail of his outfit and hair, making it look messy yet attractive. Opening the door he gave her a pathetic smile allowing her in, Y/n gushing over his apartment, looking at all his books and giggling at all the coffee stains.
“You really need to cut down.” She teased Spencer pretending to be embarrassed as he cleared the half filled cup and shoved the case file into a drawer, a bashful smile on his face as he told her to make herself at home. Entering the kitchen he pretended to clean, washing the cup up and placing it down. He watched her as she sat down, her hands running over the fabric and smiling to herself at the book placed next to the seat, her head turning to read the page. Grabbing two drinks from the fridge he walked in, smiling as he handed her one and sat next to her.
“If you ever want to borrow any of my books you're more than welcome but i can’t promise they won’t be stained or full of pen marks.” Y/n giggled as she opened the drink, looking around before placing it carefully on the coffee table and clasping her hands together.
“Alright Genius, show me how to play chess.” Spencer grinned as he grabbed his board, spreading it out and spending hours pouring every bit of knowledge he could into Y/n. His mind took in each part of her as she nodded along and tried each move, her eyes lighting up when she captured a piece or pouting when Spencer won. It was so domestic, so perfect and exactly what he desired, for her to be in his space and to enjoy him as he enjoyed her.
Y/n yawned as she looked outside, the sky was now dark as she smiled at Spencer, his eyes half open as she watched him take her King.
“You are way too good at this. Thank you for an amazing day.” Spencer smiled as she stood, standing with her as she gave him a hug and pulled back, running a hand through her hair.
“I’d better check on Dorito incase he’s somehow broken out again.” Y/n laughed and waved at Spencer as she opened his apartment door, his hand coming to hold it as he watched her enter her apartment. Her voice sweet as she called out to Dorito, a small giggle coming from behind the door before it closed. Spencer closed the door and sighed, itching his head from the headache he’d had all day. Trying to hold in his own thoughts and control his impulses was tiring, especially when she was sitting so close he could smell her conditioner.
Entering his bedroom he unlocked his bedroom door, smirking as he pulled out her underwear and laid on the bed, smelling them with his eyes closed as he pictured her laid out in front of him. Her eyes half closed and chest rising and falling as he thrust into her, his hand dropping to his cock as he released it and thrust into his palm. He imagined how she’d look at him as he made her play her next move, her breasts bouncing as he thrust harshly into her making her moan, hand shakily grabbing a pawn and pushing it two places forward. He’d easily take the piece and in return he’d bite her nipple, hand on her hip as she whined and clenched around his cock, his eyes meeting hers and indicating to the board. Her eyes brimming with tears as he dropped a hand to her clit and forced her closer to the edge, a choked moan coming out as she knocked over the chess pieces. His own moan cut into his fantasy as he spilled over his hand, panting as he opened his eyes and moved the underwear off his face. Huffing as he got up and entering the bathroom, showering quickly before staring at himself in the mirror.
He needed a plan.
Spencer poured over the ideas in his head as he held onto the blade in his pocket, he’d already enacted his first part of the plan and now it was time to put it all into place. Breaking down the door he attacked the lady, his knife slicing through her carotid artery and stabbed her multiple times, the glove on his hand feeling wet from the blood before he threw the knife to the side. The shoes too big for his feet stomped in the blood as he trailed around the apartment, throwing things onto the ground and finding her address book. Opening it to the correct page and smearing a bloodied glove print over the name before he left, leaving the door slightly ajar as he did.
Y/n cried as she sat in Hotch’s office, Penelope and JJ sat with her as they explained James Stevens had escaped prison and her neighbour Mrs Fredricks had been found murdered. She didn’t know how to process the information as Hotch turned a photo over to her, an address book had been found in Mrs Fredricks apartment, Y/n’s name and number scribbled down by the lady with Doritos name next to it and a little heart. Blood covering the page as she shakily took the photo and sobbed. Penelope consoling her as JJ looked over the photo and frowned at Hotch.
“I think it would be best if we put you in secure housing and have someone with you until we can find him.” Penelope agreed with Hotch as she hugged her friend, Y/n nodding as she wiped her tears and stood, thanking Hotch as she left his office. Her head down as she bumped into Spencer, his eyes full of hurt as he hugged her, her tears soaking his jumper as he comforted her.
“I’m so sorry Y/n, I know how much you liked Mrs Fredricks.” Y/n nodded against his chest and sniffled as she raised her head and wiped her eyes.
“I just don’t understand why someone would do that to her. She was so sweet and all because of me, she’s dead because of me Spence.” Spencer went to comfort her but she brushed past him and rushed to the ladies toilets, his name being called by Hotch as he pretended to look concerned and entered his office.
Spencer grinned as he watched James struggle in his chair, tears streaming down his face as he begged for his life.
“Please, i don’t understand. I did what you wanted, i, i confessed and i didn’t say anything. Please. Please just let me go. Please.” His voice cracked from his begging as he sobbed, Spencer laughing as he slowly pressed the needle into his arm, watching James eyes squeeze close before opening, pupils blown and brain slowly rotting from the drugs.
“I need you for just a bit longer James, just enough to get her into my arms. Then and only then, do you get to die.”
Y/n hugged herself as she sat on the sofa, the safe house felt so empty apart from her and Dorito, no neighbours moving around, no opening or closing of doors. Just her and her cat, she knew an agent was outside watching but she didn’t feel safe in the slightest, it had been a week and two more bodies had turned up. It had terrified Y/n to the core how similar they looked to her, and each one more brutalised than the other. Jumping she heard a knock, her hands shaking as the door opened revealing Spencer, a takeaway pizza in his hands and an apologetic smile on his face.
“I’m sorry for scaring you.” Y/n calmed her heart and smiled sadly back at him, watching him closely as he placed the pizza down and locked the door, checking outside before closing the curtains and sitting beside her.
“How are you?” Y/n just nodded in response, opening the pizza and taking a bite as she leant against Spencer and took solace in his company.
“I don’t know.” Spencer nodded, taking a slice and eating it as he felt her relax against him, her warmth invading him as her scent captured his senses and his whole body reacted to her closeness.
Spencer spent the next week going between the safe house and Y/n’s apartment, his FBI badge allowing him private entrance over and over as he did as he pleased. Sifting through her lingerie, showering with her products, taking her clothes and personal items. Anything and everything he desired to do was easy to accomplish, all he had to do was kill someone every now and again. It brought him such a thrill to watch the life leave their eyes, to know how pitifully they died at his hands and that each kill brought Y/n further into his arms.
Now he was going to make sure she didn’t leave them.
Y/n curled up next to Spencer on the sofa, the lightning crackling outside making her jump as he soothed her, the tv playing some movie she couldn’t concentrate on as she heard a gunshot. Her body jumped up as Spencer’s eyes widened, his hand grabbing hers as he pushed her into the bathroom, handing her a gun with shaky hands and demanding she stay there. Y/n could feel tears falling down her face as she stared at the gun in horror, another gun shot rang out and she began sobbing, every noise making her body want to collapse onto the floor.
Spencer held a gun close to his side as he ran around the building, hiding his smirk at the FBI agent on the ground, blood dripping from the gunshot wound to the head and stab wounds to his chest, turning her saw James stumbling towards the entrance of the safe house. His gun raised as he let out a shot, pretending to curse himself as it missed, he knew the BAU would be here soon after someone saw the video feed. Now he ran inside, calling out to Y/n as he found her, her gun on the floor as James held a knife to her throat protecting his body from Spencer. His eyes dilated and breathing resembling that of a rabid animal. Spencer held the gun up, showing James he was of no threat as he watched his commands take over.
“Back away or i slit her throat Pig.” His voice was almost robotic as he read off the mental script he’d been hypnotised to recall.
“James, you don’t want to do this. Please give her to me.” James pressed the blade closer to her throat as Spencer pretended to step forward out of concern and winced at her face, eyes darting to her as she cried.
“Y/n. Y/n listen to me. It’s going to be okay.” Y/n tried to nod, her eyes staring into Spencer’s as he gave her a reassuring smile and looked back at James with an angry look.
“Put the knife down and we can talk this through James. No one has to get hurt.” The last three words triggered James’ next actions as he moved the knife away from Y/n’s throat, his arm still around it as he pointed it to Spencer and shook with anger.
“Oh yes they do! You all just had to get involved when i was finally getting what i wanted! All she had to do was come back to mine and die.” He seethed, Y/n shaking in fear before he threw her down and ran at Spencer, Y/n watching in horror as the knife slid along Spencer’s arm before he managed to shove James off. His gun shot twice before James’ body hit the ground, Y/n letting out a scream as his head rolled to the side and his eyes bore into her head. Spencer ran to her, holding her tightly as his blood dripped down his arm, her body collapsing into his as she clung to him for dear life. His words echoing in her head as he coaxed her to stand, turning her head away from James as he guided her out the house, a sob escaping her as she saw the agent on the ground but Spencer turned her away. The team arrived moments later as Penelope engulfed her in a hug and Derek tried to get Spencer to seek medical attention but he played his part perfectly. Refusing treatment, saying he was okay, wincing when Derek touched his arm. Everything was falling perfectly into place, the ambulance cleaned him up and just like that he was holding Y/n in the back of the SUV whilst Derek drove them to the apartment block.
Spencer held open her apartment door as Y/n stood in the doorway, her arms hugging her before she looked back at Spencer
“Umm…could i stay with you tonight Spence?” Spencer pretended to be shocked and nodded, giving her a concerned look as she shuffled out the doorway allowing him to lock her apartment and watched her follow him to his. He unlocked the door and opened it, letting her in as he mumbled an apology for the mess. Y/n not even responding as she awkwardly stood in his living room, he’d made sure it looked more chaotic, a case file on James on the coffee table, aswell as pictures of each of his victims and a map of where he’d been. Pretending to panic he rushed around hiding them all as Y/n walked towards the pictures, picking up one of the victims photos and staring at it blankly as he slowly approached her.
“I’m sorry i didn’t think.” Y/n shook her head and looked up at him, handing him the picture as he shoved it inside the case file and carded his hand through his hair in fake stress.
“You don’t need to be sorry Spence. You saved my life.” Y/n reached up giving him a kiss on the cheek as he blushed, a real one that made his whole body tingle in excitement as she hugged herself closed.
“Do you…do you want to shower and i’ll set the bed up? I’ll sleep on the sofa.” Y/n nodded emptily as she wandered into the bathroom, a grin coming over Spencer’s face as he threw a blanket and pillow on the sofa, entering his bedroom as he made sure it was perfect. The bed was fresh but he’d made sure to lay in it multiple times and spray it aggressively so the second she touched it she’d be reminded of him. Grabbing a t shirt and boxers he folded up a towel and placed them outside the bathroom door, listening intently as he heard her showering, his mind demanding he enter and fuck her under the hot water. To fill her fully with him whilst she cried but he knew it would be much sweeter to wait.
He waited by the kitchen as he heard the shower turn off, her feet padding against the floor for a while before he could hear her gasp and realise she had no clothes, the door opening a crack as she went to call his name. Her eyes dropping to the clothes as she smiled with teary eyes and collected them, his smile turning dark as he chuckled to himself, pouring tea for both himself and Y/n as she exited the shower.
“Thank you for the clothes.” Spencer nodded as he handed her the tea, apologising for it being a little cold as he hadn’t got the timing quite right but she brushed him off, drinking it with a little moan as she felt her body relax, a smile on her face as she looked at him. Y/n shuffled her feet for a minute as she looked between the cup and the sad excuse for a bed Spencer had made, guilt filling her before she put the cup down and looked at him fully.
“I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me Spence, I can't have you sleep on the sofa, if you’re okay with it maybe we could share the bed?” She knew he would never let her sleep on the sofa, he was too sweet for that and she watched as he blushed and stumbled over his words coming up with excuses before he looked at her desperate face and agreed. Y/n smiling as she took his hand and guided him into the bedroom, both shy as they crawled into the bed, Spencer pretending to be rigid as she curled up to him.
“Is this okay?” Spencer nodded as Y/n gulped and hugged him, basking in his warmth as she felt him slowly relax, aware of how he was trying to be as respectful as he could. Y/n felt his arms slowly close around her as she closed her eyes and felt safe with him, his lips meeting her head in a quick kiss before he apologised.
“I’m sorry.” He stuttered out, red in the face as Y/n looked up at him, her eyes dropping to his lips before she slowly moved forward, eyes finding his to give him time to move away before she met his lips. The two closing their eyes as they kissed, hands slowly becoming harsher until Y/n was panting under him as he claimed her mouth. Both panting and frantic as Spencer stripped Y/n, her hands scrambling to push his shirt over his head, barely moving away to do so until their lips met again. Hot and heavy as her legs fell open allowing him between them, her hands clutching onto his upper arms as she moaned against his lips. Their bodies grinding against one another as he desperately tried to push down his bottoms, her hands coming to untie the knot holding them up as they giggled, eyes finding each other before they slowed down. Their kisses were more gentle and full of meaning as Spencer fully stripped, his body pulling away from hers to crawl down her body when she stopped him.
“You don’t…you don’t need to go down. I’m ready.” She felt ashamed at how aroused she was, Spencer’s eyes dropping to her pussy as he held in a moan at how soaked she was. For him. Nodding he pretended to be bashful as he kissed her, her arms around his back as he kissed down her neck, sucking and biting her collarbones. He could tell she was getting restless, her legs wiggling and hips lifting slightly to meet his cock before he lined up and raised his head.
“Are you sure?” Y/n nodded quickly, pulling his head back down to kiss him as he pushed halfway in, reminding himself he had to be timid, inexperienced and unsure, not overly confident and ready to fuck her so hard she screamed. Instead he looked at her as she nodded and bit her lip, a moan dropping from her lips as he slowly pushed further, his eyes full of care as he watched her face contort in pleasure. Her nails digging into his skin until he was fully in, her breath shaky as she ran her hands along his shoulders, one twisting in his hair whilst the other held his neck. Her head raising to meet his lips as he began thrusting, slowly and controlled, stuttering his hips to emanate that of someone unsure, each thrust gradually getting deeper as she moaned. Spencer moaned her name as he pushed his head between her shoulder and neck, kissing along her neck as she whimpered in pleasure. His thrusts now quick and long, his body fully controlled and each thrust powerful as he felt her jolt in pleasure and squeeze his cock each time. He could tell she was getting close, her pussy a vice-like grip on his cock as she moaned his name and clung to him. Raising his head he kissed her deeply, a hand reaching down to rub her clit as her head fell back and body spasmed, just like that she was cumming around his cock. He knew her body so well he could tell how deep he needed to thrust to optimise her pleasure, to push her over the edge and force her to whimper at overstimulation. Panting he pressed his forehead against hers as he slowed, pretending to not know what to do as she mumbled.
“No…no i’m okay. Keep going, please, i want you to cum.” The words alone made his dick pulse, making her squirm as he nodded and kissed her gently, his eyes now watching his cock slide in and out of her pussy as he quickened, her moans filling his ears as she cried out, pussy tightening around him as he moaned and came suddenly. His own mind was blown by how quickly he had lost control, eyes shooting open to stare at Y/n, her eyes still closed whilst her pussy milked him. His thrusts slowed until he stilled and let some of his weight go, her hands running up and down soothingly on his back. He went to move off but instead she locked her legs and shook her head, both of them sweaty and boiling as they cuddled, his soft cock nestled in her pussy as their breathing slowed until he could hear Y/n had fallen asleep. Raising his head he slipped from her pussy, watching her carefully to ensure she was asleep before spreading her lips and watching his cum seep out. Using his finger he pushed it back in, loving how she whined at the intrusion but her pussy took him so well. Chuckling to himself he laid beside her, pulling her into his side as he fell asleep beside her.
Y/n didn’t move back into her own apartment, instead she moved Dorito in and Spencer had to remove any trace of his previous stalking from existence. Now he had her in blissful domestic life, she worked from home, case files brought home by Spencer so she could relax all day after he fucked her thoroughly each night. A wide smile on her face each time he came home, rushing into his arms and kissing him whilst she asked about his day. He’d finally gotten everything he wanted, sure he still would go out and kill every so often, just to quench the need but when he returned and felt her hug him it all slipped away. It was just bliss. His plan had worked, she was his.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x bau!reader#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid#criminal minds x reader#Unsub!Spencer Reid x reader#Unsub!reid#unsub spencer reid
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YOU LITERALLY SAVED MY LIFE
Word Count: 1.3k
Pairing(s): Dark!JJ x Reader, Sarah x Reader, Rafe x Reader
Warnings: domestic abuse, physical abuse, strangling, gaslighting, alcohol, mentions of blood, toxic relationship, controlling behavior, trauma, rape, 18+
Summary: Y/n trusted JJ, who initially seemed to be the love of her life, but ultimately became the source of her deepest fears.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
Part 1 - Broken Trust
It’s hard to believe you’ve become this person—the one whose boyfriend has abused her, both physically and mentally.
You used to see yourself as strong, independent. Yet here you are, trapped in a nightmare that feels impossible to escape. JJ’s actions have slowly eroded your confidence, your spirit, until you no longer recognize yourself in the mirror.
The bruises on your body are painful reminders of the suffering you endure daily, while the scars on your heart run even deeper.
Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d be making excuses for his behavior, hiding the truth from your friends and family.
How did it come to this? Are you somehow to blame? Questions swirl in your mind, but one thing is clear: you can’t continue like this.
You need help—someone who will believe you, stand by your side, and help you find a way out of this darkness.
-
You weren’t always this way. There was a time when you loved JJ deeply, willing to do anything for him. You cherished the moments together, the laughter, and the shared dreams of a future. But then, little accidents began to happen—his temper flaring unexpectedly, small outbursts that left you shaken and confused.
At first, you brushed it off, chalking it up to stress or bad days. But as time went on, the incidents became more frequent, more intense.
You found yourself walking on eggshells, trying to avoid triggering his anger. His apologies were always followed by promises to change, and you wanted to believe him, desperately clinging to the hope that things would get better.
But deep down, you knew something had changed. The person you loved seemed like a stranger at times, and you couldn’t understand why.
You tried talking to Kiara and Sarah, pouring out your heart and sharing the pain you were going through, but they couldn't believe that JJ would ever do such things.
Kiara, your best friend since childhood, defended her best friend adamantly, unable to reconcile the JJ she knew with the one you described.
Sarah, who had been like a sister to you, also shut you down, insisting that she had known JJ for years and couldn't imagine him behaving that way.
Their disbelief cut deep, leaving you feeling isolated and alone with your suffering. Little did you know that someone would eventually step in and literally save your life. And this is your story.
—
The first time you noticed a bruise on your face was after the night the Pogues came over for a games night and drinks. It started as a fun evening, with laughter filling the house as everyone enjoyed themselves. However, as the night progressed, tensions simmered beneath the surface, and JJ's mood grew darker.
By the time the others had left, you were very drunk, and it was just you and JJ alone. He had a bad day, you vaguely remember. The details from that point are fuzzy.
You remember feeling a sudden push, a jolt that sent you tumbling down the patio stairs. The next morning, you woke up groggy and sore, finding JJ beside you. His voice was gentle but firm as he assured you that you must have fallen on your own, too intoxicated to recall.
You wanted to believe it was just an accident, a consequence of being too drunk. Yet, a nagging feeling persisted—that push, that sudden fall—it felt deliberate, calculated.
The next time it happened was the week after, on Kiara's 21st birthday. You were in the kitchen, preparing dinner for everyone, when JJ came in from fishing outside. His mood was already sour, and when he saw you preparing chicken schnitzel strips, his temper erupted.
"What the fuck is this?" he yelled, storming over to you and pushing your body out of the way. Confusion and fear gripped you as he inspected the food.
"These aren't strips, they're like mini steaks. Can you do anything right, or do I need to show you how to do it properly?" His voice thundered in the small kitchen, and in his frustration, he waved the knife at you. As he went to set the knife down, the blade sliced your arm.
Pain shot through you like fire as the knife cut deep into your arm, blood pulsing out in hot, crimson rivulets. The kitchen air thickened with the metallic tang of blood, mixing with the acrid scent of fear. Shock and disbelief froze you for a split second, but then a surge of defiance rose within you.
"You just cut me!" you screamed at JJ, your voice cracking with pain and fury. His eyes, dark with anger, bore into yours, his face contorted with disdain. But instead of remorse, his expression twisted into a mask of pure rage.
"You made me do that!" he roared, grabbing a glass cup from the counter and hurling it at you with terrifying force. The glass shattered against the wall, fragments spraying across the room like deadly shrapnel.
"What the fuck is wrong with you, you psycho?" you yelled back, your voice trembling with a mix of terror and defiance. The accusation seemed to unhinge him further, igniting a storm of violence that was about to consume everything.
With a primal roar, JJ stormed toward you, his steps thundering on the floor. He shoved you brutally against the fridge, the impact jarring your already injured arm. Before you could react, his hands closed around your throat like a vice, squeezing off your air supply.
Panic surged through you, a desperate, primal instinct to survive. You clawed at his hands, your vision blurring with tears and lack of oxygen. But JJ's grip was unrelenting, crushing, his face twisted with hatred and derision.
"You think you can compare me to my father?" he hissed, his voice dripping with venom. "You're lucky I even put up with you, you worthless piece of shit!"
His words were like shards of glass, cutting through your soul. Darkness closed in around the edges of your vision as you fought for breath, for life.
In that terrifying moment, with JJ's fingers digging into your throat, you realized the magnitude of the danger you were in. Every part of you screamed for escape, for survival, as you battled against the monster you once loved.
The ringing of your phone shattered the tense silence, snapping JJ out of his violent trance. You collapsed to the ground amidst the shards of broken glass, gasping for air, your throat raw from his merciless grip. Through the haze of pain and fear, you heard JJ answer your phone with forced calmness.
"Yeah, she's not feeling well. We'll just get pizza tonight," he said, his voice unnervingly composed. The casual dismissal of your suffering sent a chill down your spine.
Weak and trembling, you struggled to your feet as JJ roughly grabbed you and shoved you into the bedroom, slamming the door shut and locking it behind him.
Alone in the suffocating darkness of the room, you crumpled to the floor, tears mingling with the blood from your wounded arm. Fear gripped your heart as you realized you were trapped, helpless against the man you once trusted, who now seemed capable of anything.
That was the day, you knew you needed to get out!
#dark!jj maybank#jj maybank#outer banks#rafe cameron#rafe obx#rafe mf cameron#rafe x reader#obx#outerbanks rafe#rafe outer banks#obx smut#obx domestic#obx imagine#obx drabble#protective!rafe
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Theory me and @jjmaybankssurfergf came up with.
Warning: major OBX season 4 part two spoilers.
Have you ever wondered why JJ was introduced first and had the longest intro? Have you ever wondered why he was a little bit snarky in Kiara’s? Well let’s get into it.
John B is telling his and Sarah’s child the story of JJ Maybank, his best friend and his child’s uncle/godfather.
His intro came first because the story is about him, and his intro had the most clips, thus showing how much of a pivotal role John B’s best friend would be.
He wants his child to know that they were named after one of the greatest people he ever knew, someone that was fierce, loyal and always put his friends first and loved unconditionally all the way to his death.
JJ Maybank was his best friend since the third grade, his brother from another mother, the one person he could always rely on to be there no matter what.
JJ’s death in Morocco changed something in John B, it left him with this dark bitter feeling he’d never known before, and based on his facial expression at that fire after JJ’s burial, it’s clear he blames Kiara.
This is why he is snarky in her intro, giving the most useless details and calling her out for being a rich kid, questioning what her motive was for hanging out with them. He made sure to add in the detail of them all liking her, foreshadowing her kiss with John B, her fling with Pope, and her relationship with JJ until he died.
In JJ’s montage we see Kie isn’t even really in it as he tells the story of JJ’s life, in fact he’s mainly shown with the whole group, John B or Pope. He only shared two memories of JJ and Kiara for romance and went back to showing the whole group.
It’s safe to say John B has never forgiven Kiara for letting JJ die in Morocco, she didn’t even try to save him.
He wants his child to know JJ did not die the criminal Pogue from the cut, instead he wants his kid to know that JJ was the best person anyone could have ever known.
Outer Banks is a story of John B grieving his best friend and making sure his kid knows the legacy of JJ Maybank.
Because he thinks everyone should be like the greatest guy he ever knew.
JJ Fucking Maybank.
#jj maybank#john b routledge#kiara carrera#pope heyward#sarah cameron#rafe cameron#jj maybank smut#obx fic#obx#outer banks#obx 4#outer banks spoilers#obx spoilers
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Young (Tennis) Love
Request from anon: So reader(female teenager it's not a problem if she's adopted or not) plays tennis since childhood(ok tennis rules and it's self indulgent)and now there's a big championship in DC and ofc the whole team is there to cheer for her. So she wins and while everyone congratulate her with derek being so proud of his babygirl, her crush comes up to her to congratulate her. They are giggling and slightly flirting with each other while the team watches this interaction stifling their laugh at Derek's shocked reaction. And she explains to them later on and derek makes a mental note to have a "talk" with her.
Derek Morgan x daughter!reader
Summary: After winning a tennis match, your dad, Derek, and his team aren’t the only ones there to congratulate you.
A/N: First, I apologize for this being so overdue. Life has been kicking my ass. Second, I know nothing about tennis, so I hope this is okay. I changed the plot a tiny bit because I didn’t want to keep you waiting any longer.
CW: alcohol consumption (it’s Hotch and Rossi. Still sober), the BAU women are the best adoptive aunts, Derek is a protective dad, I think that’s it.
---
Derek Morgan had been shocked when you were five years old and chose tennis out of all the sports in the world. Seriously… why couldn't you have picked basketball (though he would have quit his job and coached you all the way to the WNBA himself) or baseball (he knew enough to get you through high school) or soccer (at least then he could have been a little league coach)? Instead, you picked a sport he, himself, had never cared for.
Truly he only had himself to blame. While in line at the store, he had spent a second too long ogling at Serena Williams on the cover of a sports magazine. He was enchanted. You were enchanted. And the next thing he knew, Derek Morgan was adding a pink children's tennis racket to the cart.
It all payed off though- the classes you took as a kid where all your dad could do was sit on the sidelines, the weekends spent on the court where he tried his best to help but kept messing up, the late-night pick ups after you’d spent hours practicing, the even longer weekends filled with tournaments watching the sport that he eventually learned to appreciate for you - because you were playing in the finals of the east coast championship.
It took every ounce of control your dad had, not to be cheering as loudly for you as possible. He watched you, his baby girl, the same one who had carried around that little pink racket like a teddy bear, prepare to do the most important serve of your life thus far. Penelope sat next to him, holding his arm to keep him from springing forward. JJ and Emily were sitting on either side of Spencer, who was very quietly explaining to them the physics of the game, though neither one of the women were paying attention to him. Hotch and Rossi were sitting back in their seats. They were sipping on some very expensive whiskey that Rossi had snuck in, looking a little too much like they were trying to recreate Wimbledon.
You swung with speed and your opponent couldn’t catch it in time. A double bounce meant another point for you. Derek held his breath, waiting for the umpire to call the score. He was too nervous and excited to remember it himself.
“40-30.” To you. One more point and you’d win the whole thing.
He saw you take in a deep breath before serving, and the game began. You and your opponent wasted no time, getting into the nitty-gritty fast. At one point, you almost missed and Penelope let out a muffled gasp. Still, you went on without getting flustered and came back faster and stronger. All those early morning workouts you had done with your dad were paying off. When your opponent began to tire, you were still light on your feet. The ball came at you at a perfect angle, and you took your chance - sending the ball back at a speed your opponent could no longer handle after going too hard at the beginning. She swung back desperately and it landed out of bounds.
The umpire called the game, with you as the clear winner, and the entire BAU team erupted. Hotch and Rossi got to their feet to clap. Spencer bounced on the balls of his feet with a simple “wooo” as Emily and JJ jumped up more excitedly beside him, cheering with delight. Penelope squealed with joy. And Derek, well… he was cheering too, with happy tears streaming down his smiling face.
You beamed up at him, taking in the biggest moment of your life so far. Every late night and early morning, every party you missed to get in extra practice time, the horrible cardio workouts, and the long days spent training in the summer heat or bone-chilling winters were worth it. Your opponent came over to congratulate you, and you shook her hand politely. Your coach, who was standing by the locker room, ran over to wrap you in a hug and escorted you into the locker room.
“She’s growing up,” Hotch sighed. The rest of the team nodded in agreement, but Derek was still watching where you had disappeared behind the locker room door, his eyes filled with pride.
“Let’s go see your baby girl,” Garcia said, putting a gentle hand on his arm. Derek turned to her with a smile, and a happy tear. She hugged him tight, before they followed the rest of the team out of the stadium.
---
The team stood outside the players’ entrance with the rest of the gathering families. With such a huge event, they were having difficulty tracking you down and in their line of work, they couldn’t help but think of the worst.
“I’m sure she’s fine, Derek,” JJ said, trying to comfort him.
“Yeah yeah… I know…” But Derek could still feel the tension in his chest and hear the panic in his tone. But he wouldn’t relax until he saw you emerge from the crowd. You were looking around for them, trophy in hand and bag slung over your shoulder, scanning the mass amounts of parents talking with their kids in search of your own unconventional little family.
It was Rossi who spotted you first. “Hey! There she is!” He sounded like a proud grandpa.
Your dad smiled brightly and called to you. “Baby girl!”
The sound of your nickname caught your attention and you turned to see the entire team standing there with open arms. A beaming smile spread across your face as you ran over to them. Derek caught you in his arms, spinning you around while the rest of the team clapped and shared their congratulations with you.
“I’m so proud of you,” your dad whispered, on the verge of happy tears.
“Thank you,” you whispered back.
“My turn to hug the little champion!” Garcia squealed with excitement. You received hugs from everyone on the team (including Reid, surprisingly), thanking them for coming to cheer you on.
You’d just finished giving out the last of your thank you embraces when someone called your name. The entire team turned to see a boy standing a little ways away, waving shyly in your direction. Your face heated and you turned to your dad. “I’ll be right back.”
He nodded, taking your bag and trophy from you before watching you walk away.
“What’s that about?” Emily asked.
Derek didn’t bother to answer. He was too busy watching the doe-eyed expression, shy smile, and rather ditzy giggle you had as you talked to the young man. All the signs of young first love.
JJ sighed. “Oh, I remember those days,” she said in a teasing manner. “And if he’s coming to her sports games you know it’s serious.”
Penelope joined them just in time to watch the young man hand you a flower, making your smile brighter.
“Oh!” she cooed. “That is so sweet!”
Emily smirked. “Looks like someone’s in lov-”
“Prentiss,” Derek cut her off. “Don’t.”
The women of the BAU giggled at your dad’s reaction, giving one another knowing looks. In their heads they were already planning a girls night out to ask you about everything. Derek, on the other hand, made a mental note to give you a different kind of talk later.
#derek morgan fanfiction#derek morgan x reader#derek morgan x daughter!reader#derek morgan x child!reader#derek morgan x y/n#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x y/n#criminal minds x teen!reader#criminal minds x daughter!reader#criminal minds x child!reader
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Rafe fucking jayj’s step sister to piss him off because he has a feeling your relationship with him goes beyond being step siblings
- 💅🏽
꩜⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
rafe has been watching you. he was intrigued truly, how a sweet girl like you wound up being a pogue. he knew you couldn’t be jj’s actual sister, no— you didn’t quite look the same, and the way you and him interacted, even in public was odd. too touchy, yet cautious, overly self aware. shit, he couldn’t blame jj. if a fine piece of ass like you found your way into his family he’d probably do the exact same.
the need to get back at jj came when he went down for technically vandalising toppers boat. technically, it was pope. but pope didn’t have anything that rafe wanted… jj however…
you were stood so shyly at the entrance to the cameron residence, having received a message from ‘ward’ (actually rafe) that he was interested in hiring you, some kind of personal assistant job. but ward was out of town, and rafe was welcoming you inside.
“y’know i—i don’t know what he was thinking inviting you round right now, he’s out of town.” he scratches his temple, squinting apologetically.
“oh…” you fiddle with your fingers, glancing around at the inside of pristine tannyhill.
“yeah… yeah, i’m sorry about that. you want somethin’ to drink? whilst you know, whilst you’re here?” he extends his arm, backing up towards the kitchen.
“oh i couldn’t possibly—”
“please, anything you want.” rafe waves you off as you follow him through to the next room.
“well, if you insist. just a water please, i’m a little parched from riding my bike over here.” he tries not to snicker, thinking about that little pogue-mobile of yours. it was so you, rickety little thing with a pink basket on top. cute, rafe thought.
even the look of a brita water filter seems to slightly excite you and he smiles, filling up a glass and handing it to you. as you drink, he speaks— seemingly making conversation.
“so you’re uh… maybanks sister, right?” he leans on the counter. he sees you stiffen slightly, knowing the two of them have had their quarrels, but jj never really letting you in on the ins and outs. “s’okay, i can separate the two of you. we’re all adults here, right?” he reassures.
you put the glass down on the counter, wiping your wet hand on your dress. “well, he’s my step-brother.” you clarify.
“ah, yeah… yeah i thought so. no one acts like that with their step sibling.” his gaze doesn’t leave yours even when yours flickers away, guilty. right then, that moment there — rafe knew his suspicions were true. he steps back, nodding for you to follow him. “lets go sit down, yeah?”
you feel you have no choice but to follow him, sitting on the large couch now beside him with your hands on your lap. he leans his elbow on his knee, watching you.
“i—i wanna be straight up with you, that okay?” he drawls after the small talk time is up, eyes boring into yours.
“…yeah.”
“i know it’s not my business but i… i feel like your step-brother is doin’ things to you that he shouldn’t be doin’. and… it just wouldn’t be right for me to sit here n’not intervene i mean i’m older than you, right? and — and it’s my duty to watch out n’protect girls like you. i’m… right aren’t I? he’s touching on you?”
“rafe… no.” you shake your head, looking away shyly, clearly scandalised.
“you know it’s not very polite to come to someone’s house n’ lie to them, sweetheart.” he squints one eye, the idea of upsetting him making you nervous.
“no i’m sorry it’s just… it’s not like that, okay? he teaches me stuff. that’s all. i… dont have a lot of experience so he’s helping me. that’s it, i swear.” you break easily, and rafes fighting everything in him not to smirk.
“your brother?” he almost sounds mocking, like he wants to laugh and your brows furrow.
“step brother.”
“yeah i…i dunno, kid. you know you could have anyone on this island. m’serious, with a — a pretty face like that? shit.” he leans back, shaking his head. “even i’d help you out.”
and that’s how he gets you, right there on that couch — because fifteen minutes later he’s got you on his knees, sucking on his tip as you look up for guidance.
“yeah, yeah like that. go ahead n’start twisting your hand for me. that’s right… see, kid? don’t need your brother. you got me now.”
꩜⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
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par for the course
pairing ⤜ rafe cameron x fem!kook!reader
word count ⤜ 3.2k
summary ⤜ in which you forgive your childhood nemesis, rafe cameron.
a/n ⤜ season one reminiscent? i’ve had a draft of this piece forever so i decided to finish it!
rafe cameron masterlist
© goldenroutledge || do not plagiarize, repost, or translate my work in any way
The slam of your bedroom door echoes through your house and the fall onto your bed is cushioned by the decorative throw pillows on top of it, drowning out your exasperation for the moment. A deep exhale fell past your lips as reality sunk in. The nags of your parents reached an all time high so far this summer, as they went on and on about how you were going to be stuck in the house with nothing to do.
Unfortunately, your explanation didn’t cut it. In the back of your mind, you were well aware that your friends would be busy doing their own things. You just chose not to believe it until it came true. John B and JJ became camp counselors for some group of kids over the summer, those poor kids. Pope decided to fill his free time with summer classes, and Kiara was tied up at The Wreck. And with John B going away, Sarah didn’t have a reason to stick around either, much to your displeasure. She’d decided to visit her cousins overseas. Not that you really blamed her, or any of your friends for that matter.
But it was slightly embarrassing to have nothing to say when it was your turn to reveal your plans for the next few months. Any other time, you’d always assumed your plans would be with any one of them.
And now, your problems were a whole lot bigger. Judging by your lack of plans, your parents went ahead and made some for you. And with the last person you would’ve wanted to spend your summer days— or any days at all— with, Rafe Cameron.
Both of your fathers had worked together in the past, and they still kept a friendship because of it. If that’s what you call two middle-aged businessmen drowning in drinks and making small talk at the occasional kook event.
To put it simply, Rafe had it out for you. Just the mention of his name made you shudder; your horrific childhood experiences with the boy forever carved in your memory.
His bratty behavior towards you began at about age 9 or 10. For instance, when you wouldn’t budge off of his favorite swing at the park. It would be impossible to forget how he popped one last bubble from his piece of bubblegum, faded pink and chewed thin, before wading it up and planting it right in your hair.
You lunged off the swing towards him immediately, screams of terror piercing the serene island air. He ran in circles, cackling mischievously as you chased him. All for Rafe to ‘take back’ his spot on the swing while he had you distracted.
As years went on, the memory became less and less vivid— except for that moment when he popped in another piece of gum, one bigger than all his teeth combined, before shouting: “Thanks for keeping’ it warm for me.”
And without an inkling of remorse, he began swinging gleefully while you ran to find your mother, hot tears cascading down your cheeks. The tear stains remained for another day or so. The sadness and frustration was simply too much for your nine year old self to handle. Not to mention the wad of gum that had to be cut out of your hair later that day. And it was all Rafe’s fault.
So it couldn’t be chalked up to anything less than betrayal, really. For your parents to coordinate summer golf lessons with your childhood nemesis. It was pure treachery. Especially after your strong argument of course, not failing to mention the dreaded gum incident. Only to be told off by your mother, as she assumed any child of Ward’s would mature into nothing short of an upstanding citizen. If she only knew.
Days later, you were throwing on a Ralph Lauren polo and a tennis skirt to match, hating every minute of it as you knew what was to come. You couldn’t deny how the material hugged your body just right; and a shred of your subconscious hoped that Rafe would notice too.
For no reason other than revenge, of course. How dare he terrorize you as a child and not be consumed with regret years later? His unforgivable acts couldn’t go unpunished.
Grabbing your keys and phone, you sped off in your car without so much as a goodbye to your mom before leaving. No amount of time could help you process what you were in for, and no amount of forethought would make this reunion any more bearable.
-
Scanning the cream colored walls of the Island Club, it didn’t take long to spot the tall Cameron leaning up against one of its pillars, scrolling on his phone with an expression of pure boredom. His foot tapped the floor occasionally, his eyes lifting every minute or so in search of you.
Just two taps on his shoulder was all it took to grab his attention. Rafe’s lips spread into a smirk just as quickly as he turned around to meet your irritated gaze. That stupid smirk, one you knew all too well.
“Long time no see, Y/n. Missed me?”
“Not a chance in hell. I’m here against my will.”
“Yeah, right. I bet you were just begging for a chance to see me again.” Rafe whines dramatically.
“Delusional as ever, huh, Rafe? I guess some things never change.”
“Childish as ever, huh, Y/n? Good to know we agree about something. And to think I had hope that you’d leave the hostility at home.”
“Didn’t you get suspended from the Academy for fighting? Twice?”
His expression shifts from smug to scowl.
“That was a long time ago. You ready to get started or what?”
You smile at him with faux innocence, glad to have landed a punch in this endless match between you two.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
—
The silence remained as thick as molasses, tension lingering that not even the sharpest of machetes could slash through.
Rafe steered the golf cart in silence, movements hasty and abrupt as an expression of his frustration. Your memory wasn’t as short as he’d expected; and now he was subjected to a summer of what he anticipated to be vengeful torture.
Lost in thought, he came to a stop at your destination. And by the looks of it, you were more than ready, willing and able to carry on without him as you began teeing up.
“Aren’t I supposed to be teaching you how? Isn’t that the whole reason why we’re here?”
With a sigh, your eyes darted to the clear blue sky, silently praying to a higher power to keep you sane. “I’ll ask for your help when I need it.”
You resume lining up your footing and the club with the ball, envisioning your swing before Rafe interrupts once again.
“Why bother showing up here if you’re gonna act like a bitch?”
“I was sent here against my will, remember?”
“So you say.”
“And I’m not a bitch. Not to those who don’t deserve it.”
“I couldn’t tell the difference.” Rafe scoffs. “And I never said you are a bitch, I said you’re acting like one.”
A cold chuckle makes its way out of your throat at his blatant contradiction. “You do not wanna go there with me, Cameron.”
After the mumble fell from your lips, you were set on taking a swing at the golf ball. Until Rafe opened his mouth once again, as if he was just waiting for you to swing, to piss you off even further. Provoking you at this point.
“Actually, let’s go there. I’d love to go there. Please enlighten me as to why you feel entitled to be so rude to me. Especially since I am the one doing you this little favor, aren’t I? Giving you a break from those losers on the Cut you love so much.”
“Isn’t it disrespectful to talk when I’m trying to hit a ball?” You query, quoting his very own words during an encounter with the notorious blond pogue. “Learn some etiquette, my friend.”
“Pathetic. So it’s Maybank? He’s been whispering in your ear? What, is he your boyfriend?”
“As if I haven’t experienced enough of your obnoxiousness firsthand. Trust me, I hate you plenty on my own. And he’s not my boyfriend, idiot.”
Rafe raises an eyebrow, his smirk returning at your defensiveness. “Though from what I hear you have some ‘losers’ of your own these days. Barry, isn’t it? Would be a shame if Uncle Ward found out.”
Rafe rolls his eyes at your disingenuous mention of his father. Sure, your fathers were somewhat close friends, but for some reason, it made his blood boil. “What’s it to you? Don’t tell me this is your attempt at blackmail.”
You shrug, grip still firm on the golf club. “Not necessarily. Have to admit it does feel good to get under your skin, though.”
“Touché.”
—
You moved through the golf course rather quickly, nearing its end. Both of your intentions were evident that you were eager to get home, and best of all, away from each other. Rafe slides into the driver's side of the cart, but doesn’t pull off immediately.
“You never actually answered my question, by the way. About why you’re being such a pain in the ass to me.”
You stop scrolling on your phone to look at him, trying to understand his purpose for bringing this up again. “You don’t happen to have some sort of short-term memory loss, right?”
“You said you hate me plenty on your own. But what fucking reason have I ever given you to?”
“Oh?”
“I told you to go there, didn’t I? I’m giving you a chance to let out your grievances. And that’s one more than I should, you know patience isn’t my strongsuit.”
“Can’t a girl just hate Rafe Cameron with no strings attached? I’m sure it’s not the first time.”
He looks over to you, blue eyes staring into yours. “You and I both know there’s always strings attached.”
“What can I say, Cameron? Guess it’s just par for the course. Or are you so desperate to know because you crave my validation?”
“What can I say, Y/l/n? I guess you wouldn’t be able to understand what it means to learn from your mistakes.”
“You’re full of it.”
“No more than you are, peach cake.”
“Just drive us back to the club already.”
“Not until you confess.” He protests, dangling the keys in your face before sliding them into his pocket. Rafe leans back, unintentionally manspreading as he does so, and drapes an arm over your shoulder. “We could be here all day.”
The exasperation was pretty much dripping off of you. His antics felt so familiar in the most intense way possible, and it made you want to scream. He was the same Rafe bullying you out of the playground a decade ago. The same Rafe you were now wondering had you misjudged. Or judged a little too harshly over some measly childhood rivalry.
“Primrose Park.”
“Excuse me?”
“Primrose Park.” You reiterate. “Don’t feign amnesia. I know you know.”
“How could I forget? I was the king of that place for years.”
“King? More like dictator.”
He shrugs. “I had a delicate ego back then.”
“As well as no patience or manners. If I didn’t know any better I would’ve thought you were raised by wolves.”
Rafe chuckles, amused by your memory of him as a child. “Blame it on Uncle Ward.”
“Sarah and Wheezie were always sweet as pie, so I don’t know if that’s fair.”
“Probably just caught me on a bad day, Y/n. I, too, am sweet as pie.” He defends, eyes twinkling as he smiles.
“Like hell you were! Do you recall wading up your gum and sticking it in my hair? Does that ring a bell?”
His eyebrows furrow as he recollects the memory.
“When we were kids at the park, you got all pissed that I wouldn’t give you a turn on the swings, so you spit your gum in my hair.”
He chuckles at first, but his laughs grow much louder as he ponders the memory.
“It’s really not that funny, Rafe. My mother had to cut that chunk of gum out of my hair.” You remind him. “You’re lucky I don’t shave your damn head right now!” You take a swat at his cap, knocking it to the ground as he’s struggling to get his laughter under control.
“And after all these years you never forgave me? It’s been decades, Y/n.”
“You never apologized.”
“Well I’m sorry, now. If that means anything.” He mumbles the last part, apologies being a foreign art to him. “But you should be thanking me, actually. You have no idea what you were in for had you stuck around.”
“What?”
“Henry Haberstroh. He was gonna give you another one of those stupid bouquets of weeds.”
“The dandelion bouquets?” Your mouth hangs open at the revelation, remembering the boy with an incessant crush on you. A crush so intense in fact that he wouldn’t stop giving you bouquets of dandelions he’d picked from the grass— not until you’d agreed to a playdate with him despite being painfully uninterested.
“The gum idea was more of a last resort but I thought you might wanna get out of there. I mean, dandelions? You’re allergic to bees.”
“And how do you know this exactly?”
“As King of Primrose Park I was privy to information. And was subtlety ever Henry’s thing? The kid was a blabbermouth. He never shut up about you.”
“Well I must say I’m impressed, Cameron. That’s quite a scheme you pulled off. Not that you’re forgiven or anything. But Henry was a creep.”
“Couldn’t take a hint to save his life, either. I don’t think I’ve seen you run away from someone so fast, not even from me.” Rafe teases, nudging your arm with his as you giggled.
“The bees!”
Rafe gives you a look of disbelief, knowing damn well it wasn’t the pollinated dandelions you were running from.
“Seriously, I’m really allergic! But you already knew that?”
“What kind of secret admirer doesn’t know his admiree’s allergens?”
His blue eyes lock with yours, smiles replacing the scowls on both of your faces from earlier. You raise an eyebrow at him in question.
“Shame on Henry.” Rafe critiques, realizing the implication of his words.
“Yeah. Shame on Henry. But I wouldn’t call us even quite yet, so sleep with one eye open just in case.”
The two of you share a genuine laugh for the first time all day, before Rafe begins driving towards the next hole.
“Remind me to lock my windows when I get home.”
—
You move towards your ball once again, but gaze at your target uneasily. Maybe you still had a thing or two to learn about the sport. Rafe leans up against the cart, arms crossed and biceps stretching the fabric of his shirt much thinner. The tension was almost gone in comparison to how you started the afternoon. Almost.
Now looking at Rafe, it felt different. How could you be angry anymore? Holding a vendetta against him took too much energy at this point when it was no longer warranted.
To your luck, you could excuse the fiery feeling rising to your cheeks as a result of the sweltering sun. No matter how hard you tried, your former memory of him melted away. You could no longer see Rafe as the pesky little boy he once was. Perhaps a symptom of heat stroke, you thought. Hopefully it would be temporary, you still had the whole summer with Rafe ahead of you.
“I almost forgot you’re supposed to be teaching me how to play this joke of a sport.” You gripe. “Will you show me?”
Rafe bites his bottom lip to avoid cracking a smile. That you had finally cracked, giving in to ask him for help. “That’s what I’m here for.”
Leaning off the cart, Rafe saunters over to you. “I need you to start on your form first. May I?” He offered, gesturing to set his arms over yours for some adjustment.
With a slow nod, you decide to taunt him further. He’s not gonna get away that easy. “You’re not chewing any gum are you?”
“No, Y/n.” He responds, and you can just hear the smirk in his tone. Hearing your name roll off his tongue makes your stomach flutter— now feeling his body against yours, the heat increasing tenfold.
“Hold the club firmly, and swing through the ball, not at the ball.” He guides your arms with his, mimicking how to prepare for a swing. As his head peers over your shoulder, you swear you hear his breath hitch at the faint aroma of your perfume. Rafe almost seems relaxed, doing the movements with you a few times over again before stepping back to let you try it.
You do just as he taught you, and Rafe repeats the instructions under his breath as he watches you take your swing.
From the woosh of the ball leaving the grass, your eyes follow as it lands in a close proximity to the cup. With a scream of victory, your hands collide with Rafe’s in a high five, before wrapping your arms around his neck, his hand instinctively falling to rest at your waist as he pulls you into a hug. “Atta girl!” He marvels.
“I did it!” You cheer, smile beaming off your face. Once the initial shock wears off, you realize whose arms you’re engulfed in, stepping back from the embrace abruptly. “Uhm- I’m sorry. I didn’t…” You begin, trying to explain yourself and your sudden outburst of physical affection.
“Don’t apologize.” Rafe assures, reaching his hand out for yours. You accept it with a shy smile. “You did great for your first big swing. Can’t say I’m surprised, though, you do have one hell of a teacher.”
“He’s not bad.” You confess. “Actually, better than I thought.”
Rafe quirks an eyebrow, his cerulean orbs gazing into your eyes, finding for once they held not one drop of bad blood while looking back at him. He steps forward, the space keeping you both apart dwindling. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Don’t tell him I said that, it’ll go straight to his head.”
His eyes flicker from yours then to your glossed lips, which is the final straw before giving into your growing urge to kiss him. Rafe’s free hand clings to your cheek immediately as he deepens the kiss; as if a magnetic pull between you two had clicked.
Pulling away, the surprise on Rafe’s face is evident, but the confidence in his voice made it impossible to tell a difference. “I’m glad to see you came to your senses and forgave me.”
“Jumping to conclusions already? What makes you think you’re forgiven?”
Rafe shrugs, and that familiar look of pride returns to his expression. His thumb grazes across the apple of your cheek, and his hand gives a gentle squeeze to your waist. “Call it a wild hunch.”
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The whole scene where Ellie is leaving Dina and JJ is so heavy, it makes it harder for me to breathe. One would say the only horrible thing about this scene is the fact that Ellie is leaving, choosing Abby over her family. But there's more than that, and it's killing me.
When Dina comes downstairs and sees Ellie packing her bag, she appears unaware of what is happening. But in fact, she is well aware. She knows it as soon as she wakes up and finds out that Ellie is not in the bed. And what makes this scene so heavy is the way Dina tries to convince herself that THIS is not happening AGAIN. The way she just smiles and starts talking about JJ so casually, as if she didn't catch Ellie packing her bag to leave her. She doesn't want to admit it to herself. She can't admit it to herself, even though she already knows. She knows Ellie has already made up her mind when she sees her in Joel's jacket in the dark.
The way she says, "Come back to bed." and turns around, praying for Ellie to change her mind in that moment. But that doesn't happen. Instead, Ellie speaks up, and we see in the way Dina closes her eyes how the crushing feeling of losing Ellie suddenly becomes so real and palpable to her. She doesn't need to admit it to herself anymore. It's happening, and it's so hard to accept.
We finally see that Ellie is not the only one struggling. They were both there in Seattle when it all came down. "For you and for him, I deal with it." Dina says and we realize that maybe if it weren't for the two of them, she would be a wreck too.
But to realize it, Dina and the way Ellie treats her in this scene is not the only one to get sad over. Ellie has her reasons, and knowing what she went through and who she lost, we can't blame her for them. This makes this moment much more painful because we know Ellie is living her family life in denial. We know this has nothing to do with Dina or JJ. Ellie has always loved them. But she's not doing well, bottling up her feelings. She doesn't sleep, doesn't eat, has panic attacks and bad memories to remind her every step of the way of just how big of a hole there is in her heart. They have a beautiful home, but they aren't happy—maybe at heart, but not inside their heads. Dina has always known there was going to be a time like this where Ellie's bad memories win, and Ellie lives her life pretending everything is fine because she doesn't want to hurt the people she loves the most.
Also, we can see how deeply Ellie hurts by choosing to leave Dina. When she says, "I love you." and Dina wants her to prove it, Ellie knows she can't. And it has nothing to do with the feelings she has for Dina. She loves her, there's no doubt about that. But she can't go on like this. She can't rest until she gets closure. This way, she'd finally be able to give Dina what she deserves. She feels like shit, it hurts her so bad knowing that Dina has always been there for her, choosing her over anything else—almost dying because of her. And now, when the tables have turned, she's not able to do the same for her. She's leaving her instead, and it hurts so fucking bad.
"I'm not gonna do this again." is when Dina breaks up with Ellie, and through a heavy heart, Ellie lets her because she knows it's for the best. She knows she's weighing her down, and she believes Dina will be better off without her. That's why her answer is more of a cold one, "That's up to you." because Ellie needs to give Dina a reason to think she doesn't deserve her love; all to make it easier on her to let her go. I just can't.
#the last of us#tlou#ellie williams#ellie tlou#dina nolastname#dina tlou#ellie x dina#dinellie#the last of us part 2#tlou part 2#the last of us talk#elliespuns analyses
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