#elle greenaway returns

[hotchscoffeecup]

reconciliation (pt.2 to how do we carry on?)

pairing: hotch x bau!reader

rating: t

genre: hurt/comfort with a happy ending

word count: 7.2k

tagged readers: @izakopanyi2 @polireader @jihyowrrld @twilightlover2007 @queenanababy @feyrecarol @rousethemouse @endofthexline @jxvipike @donttrustlove @hiireadstuff @jenna50 @michasia24

The coffee that was hot an hour ago is cold and bitter now. You grimace as the acrid taste slides down your throat. You try to place the disposable cup into your cup holder without taking your eyes off the road, but miss.The lid slips off and brown liquid sloshes over the edge onto the passenger seat. You curse as you grasp the wheel with one hand while you try to mop up the spill with what random napkins you’ve acquired since you started driving. Fortunately, your purse is spared any damage, but the road map and photograph you’ve kept on the seat aren’t as lucky. Ignoring the map, you pick up the photograph and shake it, splattering drops of coffee across the dash. The edges curl slightly, but the photo itself is fine. You hold it awkwardly between your fingers as you return your hand to the steering wheel.

There aren’t many cars on the road at this hour. You glance down at the dashboard and see 02:32 illuminated in green. You aren’t sure where you’re going, you just know you can’t stay there. Even your own apartment didn’t feel secure, not with how much of him is there. Your lives are so intertwined, you see and feel him everywhere you go. It’s what makes, made? God, you don’t even know anymore. It’s what is so beautiful about your relationship, how seamlessly your lives blend together that you’re not sure where yours and his start and end. You’re both so fiercely independent while being so devoted and wholly part of the threads that make up one another’s lives.

Or so you thought.

As you slow to a stop at the red light, the only car at the four way intersection, your eyes fall to the coffee stained image between your fingers. You’re smiling at the camera meanwhile Aaron is looking and smiling down on you, the soft shimmer in his deep brown eyes captured by the lens. It’s your favorite picture. You took it from the frame at the front table before leaving. The sound of his sobs echo in your ears as the red light reflecting on the photo paper shines green. You blink and drop the photo onto the center console before shifting your gaze back to the road. A sign ahead reads to keep left to stay on I-95 South. Richmond and Virginia Beach are in big white letters under it.

Three years you’ve lived in Virginia, and you’ve never made it to the coast. Shifting the steering wheel, you guide the vehicle into the left lane and take the exit.

•

As the waves lap at your ankles, you close your eyes and turn your face toward the sun, the briny sea breeze gently tossing your hair. You inhale deeply and the sigh you exhale is overtaken by the quiet roar of the ocean.

Turns out getting a beachfront house isn’t as expensive as one might think in the off season and fortunately for you, Virginia afternoons in September still reach the high eighties.

The beach house is nothing fancy, more like a beach shack if you’re being honest. It’s one floor supported on high rafters, old wooden steps leading down to the sand. You climb them now and they creak beneath your weight. A half rusted outdoor shower squeals to life when you reach the deck and twist the faucet. You shiver as you rinse the sand off of your legs and arms, and well, everywhere. There aren’t many crevices it doesn’t manage to stick to. You swipe the pink and white striped towel you’d found in the linen closet off the railing and wrap it around your body. Once it’s tightly secured around your chest, you work off the cheap bikini you’d purchased at a year round souvenir shop down the road and spread it out to dry.

The screen door squeaks on its hinges as you enter the house. You should probably go for a proper shower and wash the sea out of your hair, but you can’t be assed. Instead, you crack open the fridge and inspect the pathetic hodge podge of groceries you’d purchased at the corner store. Food doesn’t even sound appealing. It hasn’t for days. Every time you try to eat, you just feel sick. Your stomach roils at the thought and you grab a seltzer water before closing the fridge with a grimace.

As you exit the kitchen, your eyes catch your phone and keys on the chipped granite counter. The black screen of your phone glints beneath the fluorescent kitchen lighting. You’d turned it off when you’d arrived, ignoring the fact that you had 8 missed calls from Hotch and twice as many unread messages from him. There’d been one missed call from Emily, a name you never thought you’d see flash across your screen again. God knows how many times you’d called her phone just to hear her voice recording before leaving a message about how much you missed her and wished she were there to give you advice or talk through a case. For a fraction of a second, you wonder now if she’s gotten the chance to hear those voicemails you’d left her. Did she hear the pain in your voice? Did she feel guilt over the messages where all you’d managed to choke out were incoherent sobs? All this time you thought you’d been talking to a ghost, but she’d been out there all along.

You tear your gaze away from the counter, leaving your phone where it is and cross the cream colored carpet to the small bedroom. Yellow wallpaper splashed with repeating patterns of palm fronds plaster the four walls. The bed frame is made up of white wicker and you fall back onto the comforter, the front of which is decorated with images of shells and starfish. None of the patterns in this house match, but you don’t care. You care about very little right now.

Before you can run away down that thought pattern, there’s a knock at the door. You sit up, brow furrowed, as you lean forward on your knees, as if doing so will suddenly grant you the ability to see through walls and who could possibly be here.

Maybe the owner? A neighboring off season beach goer? Hesitantly, you rise from the bed and tug on one of the guest robes that had been hanging in the bathroom. You drop your towel and shrug it on, tying it tightly around your waist before approaching the front door. You move slowly for two reasons: one, no one should know you’re here and you don’t know why someone would be calling on you, and two; what if it’s Aaron?

The knocking repeats. It's light but firm, definitely not Aaron. A woman, you think. You twist the deadbolt and pull open the door, surprise etching into your features as a woman a few years older than you stands behind the second screen door.

“Hi, uh, can I help you?” you ask awkwardly.

The girl’s dark eyes travel up and down your body. She looks at you through the door from beneath long lashes, a knowing smile playing on her lips. You can’t control the shocked gasp that leaves your mouth when she asks for you by name.

You try your best to school your facial expressions and by the slight smirk that crosses the girl’s face, you know you did a pretty poor job of doing so. “Who wants to know?” you ask, wondering if she’s someone who’s crossed paths with you before through work.

“Aaron Hotchner,” she answers, drawing out the last syllable of his name with an amused glint in her eye.

You can’t fight the eye roll that follows. Unbelievable. “Sorry, he wasted your time.” You move to close the door, but she throws open the screen door and catches it with her foot.

Your eyes flash to hers and you see the challenge in the depth of her hazel gaze, equal to the one in yours. “Hotch wouldn’t have reached out to me unless he was desperate,” she adds. “I think you might want to hear me out.” She extends a hand toward you. “I’m Elle, Greenaway to the BAU, but when I left I shortened it to Greene.”

Your brow furrows as the name rings the slightest of bells in the back of your mind. Hesitantly, you accept her ring adorned hand and shake it as your brain sifts through the number of agents you’d heard stories about in the time before you joined the team.

“How did you find me?” you ask as you step aside and admit her into the house.

Elle nods graciously as she looks around, though there’s not much to size up in the small rental unit.

“You think Hotch didn’t immediately have Penelope ping your phone when you left?”

You exhale sharply. “I turned my phone off.”

A short laugh leaves Elle, “Not soon enough.” She turns, a hand on her hip. “You got any beer?”

Your brow furrows, wondering who the hell you just invited into your house. You shake your head as you cross into the kitchen and open the fridge. You withdraw a big bottle you’d bought at the corner drug store. “I’ve got wine.”

Elle smiles. “That’ll work. Let’s head down to the beach.”

•

“Thanks,” Elle says coolly as you finish tipping wine into the plastic cup in her hand. You cap the bottle and shove it down into the sand between the foldable beach chairs you’d dragged down from their place on the deck after you’d gotten changed into something more appropriate to wear outside than a bathrobe.

You retrieve your cup from where you’d been holding it between your legs and take a long sip before sighing and settling back into your chair, the canvas stretching as you do so.

For a moment, you and Elle sit there in silence; watching the orange pink colors of the sunset start to streak across the sky as the waves crash against the sand.

“I had no idea about Haley,” she says after another minute goes by and you stiffen. It isn’t that you and Aaron never talk about her. Keeping her memory alive is so important for Jack and you know a part of Hotch will always love her. That’s never bothered you though. Aaron had told you that he and Haley had talked about that if something ever happened to either one of them that they would want the other to eventually move on and find love again, that they didn’t want the other one to spend the rest of their life lonely. I’m sure neither one of them ever imagined something like what had happened to Haley would ever come to pass though.

“Did you know her?” you ask, your voice tight with emotion at the thought of ever having to endure a loss like that. You’d joined the team years after her death and hadn’t known Hotch during the time he’d grieved her loss. From the stories he and Jack had shared, she seemed like she’d been a kind soul and a good mother.

Elle nods, her gaze fixed on the view though you see a glint of memory in her eyes. “Hotch wasn’t as serious then.” She pauses and smirks to herself. “Don’t get me wrong, he was still a hard ass, but there was also a lightness to him before and right after Jack was born. I remember when they first brought him into the office, such a tiny little thing all bundled up in his arms. Him and Haley had looked so at ease.” She sighs and takes a swig of her wine before continuing. “I think that’s when the job started to get to him, after he had a kid.” Her brow pinches for a moment. “I think Hotch started to see the men and women we put away more as the proverbial monsters that kids fear are lurking in their closets, except we know what horribly evil things the monsters are really capable of versus what a kid’s imagination can drum up. The worst their little minds can conjure up pales in comparison to the heinous files that cross his desk. I think Hotch wanted to protect that innocence so badly and shield Jack from all of the evil in the world that he threw himself further and further into his work, especially after how things with The Fisher King went down.” Your eyes don’t miss the way her hand presses against her abdomen. The stake jutting out of Emily’s stomach flashes in your mind and you flinch at the memory.

“Something happened,” observes Elle. She sits up in her chair, resting her elbows on her knees as she looks at you.

You scoff and take another drink, shaking your head as you do so. “Once a profiler, always a profiler.”

Elle chuckles and shrugs. “Old habits die hard.” Her features soften as she turns toward you. “Something happened though, didn’t it? I know you probably can’t share too many details. Hotch didn’t in the voicemail he left you.”

You perk up at that. “Voicemail?”

Elle nods, the gold hoops in her ears swinging as she does so. “Sorry,” she laughs coolly as she reaches into the pocket of her jeans. “I probably should’ve led with that.” She fishes her cell phone out and swipes her thumb across the screen. You brace yourself as Aaron’s throaty tenor echoes from the speaker on her phone.

“Elle, hi,” he starts and stops. An exasperated sigh follows. “It’s Aaron Hotchner with the BAU I—of course you know I’m with the BAU I don’t know why I led with that. Look, I know I’m probably the last person you want to hear from after all of these years but I didn’t know who else to call. I can’t,” his voice wavers here for a moment. “I can’t share details about the case we’re working on, but it’s bad and I had to make a decision.” He stops and clears his throat. “It was a decision that impacted the whole of the team and where it was for their protection, I may have ruined the best thing to have happened to me in years. Look, I know you left the Bureau. I know you changed your name to put distance between you and the BAU, and I don’t blame you. In fact, I think I understand you now more than ever. This job, the toll it takes—” his voice trails off and you hold your breath in anticipation. He goes on to explain who you are and why you left, obfuscating the exact details of the Ian Doyle case for security reasons. He explains how after no one had heard from you for forty eight hours that he’d worked with Garcia to ping your location, how he was more worried than anything else and just needed to know that you were safe. When Penelope had located you, he remembered that Elle had always talked about living on the coast. It had been a shot in the dark, but Penelope being Penelope, she’d been able to find Elle in a matter of hours. “I just need to know she’s safe,” he breathes. “Please, Elle. If anything happens to her, I don’t know what I’ll do. I can’t lose someone else. I have to do better; by you, by Haley, by the team. I’ll spend the rest of my life making amends, but please, with this case still active, I just need to know that she’s ok. Call me back,” his voice quavers. “Please.”

The line goes dead and Elle slides her phone back into her pocket. “That was three days ago.” Elle’s brow arches, looking for a response. “So,” she adds, drawling out the ‘o’ sound. “Sounds heavy.”

You draw in a deep breath and down the rest of your wine. Aaron had sounded so tired on the phone. Guilt squeezes around your heart as you think about what he and the team must be dealing with. It’s reckless and stupid of you to have just up and left when Doyle is still out there with you and the rest of his team in your sights. You didn’t even bring your gun, sure that you’d be sending in your resignation after this cover up; but hearing his voice on Elle’s phone, the pain in it. What you’d been trying to ignore this entire time begins to wriggle its way toward the forefront of your mind; and that’s the hell this must have put Hotch and Emily through. You know he’d never do anything to hurt you, not intentionally, but how are you supposed to trust him if he could watch you suffer through the agony of her loss knowing at any point in time he could’ve put a stop to it? You squeeze your eyes shut because you know the obvious answer. There are things he has to do as Unit Chief, choices only he can make. Choices that don’t involve you or the rest of the team, and that doesn’t change because you two are an item. Still, the conflict wages on inside of you. All of this is true and he’s made choices and decisions that impact the team before, just never on this scale; not something that alters memories and fucks the psyche so irreparably.

“The heaviest,” you finally respond.

“You can talk to me about it,” she says, and you know her words are genuine. “I know I don’t have clearance anymore, so the cliff notes version works too.”

So, you tell her. About Emily, about Hotch, what you can about Doyle, the circumstances around Emily’s death, the grief, her undeath, the betrayal you felt, and everything that brought you to this moment with her.

Elle releases a low whistle and scoops the wine bottle up from the sand, pouring herself another glass and topping yours off. “That’s—” She pops her lips, considering. “Elaborate.”

“I’d say mind-fuck, but elaborate works too.” You quip bitterly and take a drink.

Elle cocks her head. “Hotch doesn’t do anything without careful consideration.”

You inhale deeply before taking another drink, a warmth starting to crawl beneath your flesh as the alcohol sinks in. You hang your head as you respond. “I know.”

“There’s a reason that I left the Bureau,” Elle says after a long stretch of silence. “I made a decision that ended my career, and it’s one I’d make again if I had to.” Her voice grows tight for a moment before she clears her throat and continues. “This job will drain you until there’s nothing left. I remember on the day I left I told Hotch about how I’d get so excited when my phone rang because it meant we had a case; but after I got shot in my own house and was lying on the floor feeling that man’s fingers inside of my gut, something changed in me forever that day. I went back to work after some time, but it was never the same. After that, every time my phone rang I felt paralyzed with fear because I knew what it was like to feel the way those victims felt in the moments leading up to their deaths.” Her voice quavers for a second and she swipes at a stray tear before choking out a laugh. “You’re not the same after something like. I know what it’s like to come back from the brink of death, and it sounds like this Emily knows too.” She stretches out a hand and grips your knee. “The only difference is that after I nearly died, I had the team. I had Spencer, Derek, Penelope, and JJ, hell Hotch was the one that came to my house and scrubbed the blood off of my walls before I got out of the hospital.” Her brow arches in response to my widening eyes. “Didn’t know that, did you?” She smiles and reclines back in her seat. “Emily didn’t have that. She didn’t have her friends, family,” she corrects. “Let’s be honest, the BAU becomes your family after a while.”

You nod in agreement.

“She went through that alone,” Elle continues and a pang of guilt shoots through you. “She didn’t have her family to turn to in a time where she probably needed you the most.”

It’s your turn to swipe at the tears that loose from your eyes. “I know that.” Your voice is tight as you choke back a sob. “I’ve always trusted the team, every one of them. How—” you suck in a shaky breath. “How am I supposed to trust them after this? What’s to stop something like this from happening again?”

Elle’s lips purse. “That’s the job we signed up for, isn’t it? Working for the government and all the shitty red tape they weave in and around the work we do.”

“If I go back,” you start. “I don’t think they’ll forgive me. I left when they needed me most. Doyle is still out there.”

Elle frowns and tilts her head back and forth. “You’ll never know if you don’t though. I couldn’t go back. My actions decided that for me. You have a choice, but you’re the only one that can make it.” She glances down at her watch and then out at the sun. It’s almost completely sunken down beneath the sea over the horizon, the orange and pink sunset fading to the purple gray hues of dusk. “I should probably get going.” She sets her cup down in the sand and stands, turning to you as she does so.

“Here,” she says, passing you a card from the back pocket of her jeans.

You take it, fingering the edges of the sturdy cardstock. Elle Greene: Social Services Coordinator is embossed in dark blue font followed by a cell phone, office number, and email listed beneath it.

“Call me if you ever want to talk. There are ways to do some good in this world without sacrificing your own happiness in the process.” She smiles at you before she starts toward the path that leads around the house and back to the road.

After a few moments, you jump up and call after her. “Hey Elle!”

She turns, brow arched toward her hairline as she waits for you to continue.

“Why’d you come?”

She slips her hands into her pockets and doesn’t say anything for a while, her green eyes focusing on her feet. When she looks up at you, there’s the faintest of smiles on her lips. “The day I left the Bureau I looked Hotch in the eye and told him that I used to wonder why he didn’t smile. When I heard that voicemail, despite how defeated he sounded, there was something in his voice that made me believe he’d found something to smile about again. When you work the job that you do, that I used to do, you have to hold on for dear life when you find the things that can make you smile after witnessing the things we do. I guess I don’t want him to lose what made him find his smile again; even after all these years I’ve spent angry at Hotch, I never hated him.” She sighs and looks like she wants to say more, but chooses not to. “Running away doesn’t solve your problems, it just keeps them at a distance until you’re finally brave enough to face them. I hope you find clarity faster than I did.” Her jeweled rings catch the last rays of sun as she raises a hand in farewell. “I’ll see you around.”

•

You pull your knees up to your chest and wrap your arms around them, the blue and green plaid fabric of the couch scratching the backs of your legs as you do so. You bite at your thumb nail as you eye your powered down cell phone from where it sits on the glass coffee table in front of you.

Elle’s words from two days ago hang heavy in the air around you.

Running away doesn’t solve your problems. It just keeps them at a distance until you’re brave enough to face them. I hope you find clarity faster than I did.

If you turn on your phone, you know there will be a barrage of voicemails and text messages waiting for you. Or, there won’t be anything more than there was when you first shut it down. You turned your back on them when they needed you. It would be easy to write you off, after all that’s what you did isn’t it?

You drop your head back against the couch and groan, the feelings at war within you tearing at your insides; your guts twisted with equal parts betrayal over Hotch not telling you and the guilt of leaving the team instead of facing that anger and hurt head on.

It’s a giant mess; a tangled web of necessary lies and the red tape that binds the hands of those in positions over you and the rest of the team. The rational part of you understands this. In black and white terms, you understand that Unit Chief SSA Agent Aaron Hotchner had to make a decision to protect another agent, SSA Emily Prentiss. While Ian Doyle is a fugitive from the law believing her to be dead, her going into hiding not only took the target off of her back, but off the backs of all of your team members, yourself included, who otherwise would’ve been collateral damage in Doyle’s relentless pursuit of vengeance against Emily. All of this makes perfect sense.

It’s when the emotional, feeling half of you comes into play that the black and white turns to splotchy streaks of gray and you struggle to make peace with the rational side of things. When you look at it through this lens, your boyfriend and long term partner, Aaron, watched you throw up from dehydration over how long and how hard you’d sobbed over the death of best friend, Emily. At any point, he could’ve put a stop to your pain and didn’t.

Your fingers slide into your hair, gently tugging at the roots as you try to sort through these warring versions of yourself and the pieces of information and emotions that come with each. Because in your heart, you know and understand it’s not black and white. It’s gray and it’s messy. So, why can’t you reconcile both halves of yourself and just be okay with this then? Why can’t you just be overjoyed by the fact that your best friend is back from the literal dead? How many people in this life can say that that’s happened for them? Why can’t you just tell Aaron you understand what he did because you do, but at the same time you don’t? You wouldn’t have told anyone, but then that would be Aaron showing you preferential treatment and you’d be in no better position than he or JJ when it came to hiding this fact from the rest of the team. It’s something you’d talked about extensively when you first started dating and so far, it has been fine. He makes decisions that sometimes you agree with, sometimes you don’t. It is always just part of the job. So what does it all boil down to? Where does this leave you?

“Fuck me,” you whisper aloud as you dive forward and swipe the phone off of the table before you can really think about what you’re doing. You hold down the button on the side and it titters to life. For a moment, you close your eyes as you feel the vibrations pulsing in the palm of your hand, each one a notification of some sort. When they cease, you swipe directly to your contacts and select Aaron’s. His is the first to show alphabetically anyway. Your thumb hovers over the call button for only a second, before you exhale a shaky breath and hit the dial.

The phone barely presses against your ear as you catch the tail end of his hello. It’s after hearing his voice, that you’re rendered speechless.

“Baby, are you there?”

Your chest rises and falls, your heart rate quickening beneath your chest. You sniff as tears prick your eyes, not realizing how much you’d missed his voice until now.

“Aaron,” you squeak out, your voice cracking on his name.

“Baby, I’m so sorry,” Hotch says, a plea in his apology. “I promise I’ll do everything I can to fix this. I miss you. I love you.”

A sob shudders free from your lips as all of your walls come tumbling down and you let yourself break down to pieces of ash and stone. “I’m sorry I ran when you needed me.”

“It’s okay,” Aaron soothes. “It’s okay. It's over. We got him.”

You sit up and swipe under your eyes with the backs of your hands. “Doyle?”

“He’s dead.”

Panic rises in you. “And the team? Is everyone—”

“Everyone is fine. No one was hurt.”

You close your eyes and sink back into the cushions as your pulse levels out. “I’m on my way.”

“There’s no need,” he replies coolly.

Your brow pinches. “I don’t—”

The sound of a car door slamming echoes beyond the front door. You stand and the old t-shirt that belongs to Aaron falls to your thighs as you do so. You’d not even realized you’d packed it until you pulled it on after your shower earlier. The linoleum creaks beneath your feet as you cross through the kitchen and unlock the deadbolt. When you pull open the door, you gasp and drop your phone.

Aaron’s lips tremble as he smiles at you and takes the phone down from his ear. He ends the call and slips it into the pocket of his slacks. “I got in the car and just started driving,” he says as his glimmering eyes flit across yours, always the profiler checking for micro expressions. A desperate smile clings to his lips as he looks at you. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you breathe in response; unable to think of what else to say at the moment

His smile falters as he takes a step closer to you. You see his hand twitch ever so slightly at his side.

“Honey, I—”

You leap forward and throw your arms around his neck. He breathes a sigh of relief into your hair as his arms fold around you, his hands pressed flat against your back as if he can somehow hold you closer than he already is. His hands slide up your spine to curl around the back of your neck. When he pulls away, there are tear stains on his cheeks.

You reach up and swipe your thumbs under his eyes, his skin smooth beneath your touch. A smirk tugs at one corner of your mouth as you wonder when he had time to shave.

“This doesn’t mean I forgive you,” you say, still cupping his cheek in your hand.

He nods as he leans into your touch. “I know,” he says softly.

“I know why you had to do what you did.”

Another tear leaks from his eye as he presses his forehead to yours, cradling your hand against his cheek. “I never wanted to hurt you or anyone else, but I had to protect you.”

“I know,” you say and you mean it. “I also know why you couldn’t tell me. I’m a coward for running away, but I just—I was so overwhelmed by everything. I didn’t know how to cope with your return, with Emily’s, with everything. I would’ve been a hindrance if I’d stayed, but I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have run.”

Hotch shakes his head as he steps back to look at you, the dark slash of his brow set as he does so. “What you did was not an act of cowardice. Trust me when I say you are not the only one that has a lot of anger and frustration aimed at me right now. Spencer snapped twice at JJ. Morgan laid into me, and I deserved it. JJ and I always knew that if and when this came to light, that there would be consequences for our actions. It was a calculated risk, and I take full responsibility for it. After you left, I gave everyone the option to leave if they didn’t think they could work the case. You knew you weren’t in the right headspace and pulled yourself out. It was the right decision and no one faults you for it.”

“I’m still so mad at you,” you say.

Aaron’s lips form a tight line. “I know.”

“But I also love you.”

His brow relaxes at that admission and relief floods his gaze. “I’ll take your use of the present tense as a good sign.”

You both chuckle at that and a shiver races through you as a sea breeze catches your hair and sends goosebumps up and down your arms. You wrap your arms around yourself and incline your head toward his SUV. “Your go bag in there?”

He nods and you flick your eyes up and down the length of his figure. “Go on then,” you encourage. “Get it and come inside before I change my mind.” You smile and you feel it reach your eyes for the first time in nearly a week. He withdraws the key fob from his pocket and smiles at it in his hand, before shaking his head with a quiet laugh and turns to head toward the car.

He pops the trunk and returns with his bag slung over his shoulder. “You look good in my shirt,” he compliments you with a sly smile as he passes through the front door. You close and lock the door behind him and point towards the bedroom. “Don’t think flattery will get you off the hook, Aaron.”

“You’re pointing me toward the bedroom, so I can only hope that’s a good sign.”

“Nearly a week has given me a lot of time to think,” you call after him as he disappears inside.

When he returns, his suit jacket is off and he’s loosening his tie from around his neck. “And what conclusion have you come to?”

“To be determined,” you muse as you approach him. You finger the tip of his tie and curl your fingers around it before tugging it free and dropping it to the floor.

One of Aaron’s brows arches as he regards you curiously. His hand curves around your hip and you press yourself against him. Heat pools in your belly, but you ignore the sensation, hard as that is after nine months without him. He dips his chin to kiss you and instead of meeting your mouth, he meets your finger instead. You press it against his lips and arch a brow. “Not so fast, Hotch.”

He winces and inhales sharply, a pink blush quickly coloring his cheeks. “I should’ve known it wasn’t going to be that easy.” He admits against your finger. “You only call me Hotch when I’m in trouble.”

Something between a scoff and a laugh leaves your lips as you poke him on the tip of his nose, the slope of which you’d missed so much since he’d been gone. “How about,” you start and loop your arms around his neck, “we just talk? From the beginning, tell me what went through your mind and what led to the decision. We can talk about Emily, her funeral, the grief. You can tell me what you can about Pakistan and I’ll tell you about how hard it was when you were gone. Tell me about when you and JJ knew you had to tell the team and I’ll tell you how it felt like I’d had my heart carved out of my chest and put through a blender. Tell me how it felt when I left and I’ll talk about the ways in which I wish I hadn’t but why I felt like I had to. Tell me why I should trust you and I’ll tell you why I want to, but am afraid. Tell me—”

Aaron catches your wrists in his hands and plants a firm kiss upon your lips. You envelope him with your own and revel in the familiar way they meld together, the taste of him like coming home. He pulls away, though his lips still hover over yours. “I promise I will tell you everything and more. We’ll talk until the sun comes up if that’s what it takes.”

You smile and when you speak, your lips brush against his. “I guess I ought to put some coffee on then.”

•

White rays of early morning sunshine break through the sheer curtains, casting soft light across the bed sheets. For the first time in nearly a year, you wake with Aaron’s arm securely around your waist. You breathe in deeply and the faint smell of coffee lingers in the air, two empty mugs leaving brown rings on the nightstand.

You don’t remember when you two had laid down to go to sleep, but remember laughing about it being 3:00 AM at one point and continuing talking in spite of that; and talked you two had. You’d tackled everything from the decision he and JJ made at the hospital all the way up until right now. You laughed and cried, and so did he. You’d never seen Aaron cry before last night, and you were grateful that he’d felt safe enough with you to be vulnerable like that. As the night had worn on, you’d felt the fractured pieces of yourself slowly start to pull together; that you can both heal from this and maybe even come out stronger on the other side.

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand and you reach for it, now being as good a time as any to tackle the number of unread texts and unheard voicemails. You can’t avoid them forever.

8 voicemails from Hotch, 2 from JJ, 6, from Penelope, 1 from Derek, and 1 from Emily. Your brow knits together as you view the time stamp next to her voicemail and it’s marked only an hour ago. Why would she have called you so early? Surely, Hotch would’ve let the team know that you’re safe and that he’s with you.

You open the app and press play, bringing the phone to your ear to avoid disturbing Hotch and Emily’s voice fills your head as you listen in.

“I can’t imagine what you must be feeling right now…” Her voice is tired and her tone is genuinely apologetic. “…I missed everyone so much, but you. It tore me up inside knowing we didn’t get to say goodbye, that I didn’t get to explain to you why all of this had to happen and you had to mourn me. I knew Hotch would take care of you.” She chuckles softly and you picture her shaking her head. “God, that man adores you, you know that right? Knowing he’d be there to help you through things was a small solace, but I knew that the weight of asking him to keep this from you and the rest of the team would take a toll on him. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Doyle, he never—he never would’ve stopped hunting me and he would’ve used or killed everyone close to me to do so. If there had been any other way, I would’ve done it.” She sighs heavily. “Anyway, Hotch texted the team and myself last night that he’d gotten to you safely in Virginia Beach. I imagine you and him had a lot to talk about last night. It’s probably going to look like I’m copying a page out of his book, but you’re the only person I haven’t looked in the eye and apologized to, so I’ll be there in about an hour or so. Hopefully, you open the door.”

Your eyes widen as you drop the phone back onto the nightstand. After glancing at the clock and noticing it had been an hour and fifteen minutes since she called, you slip out of bed. Hotch stirs, but doesn’t wake and his hand moves to shift under the pillow and he nestles deeper into the blankets. God, he must be so exhausted. From the red eye flight from Pakistan to immediately leaping into and closing the Ian Doyle case, this is probably the first proper sleep he’s gotten in weeks.

The sound of tires crunching over gravel draws your attention to the living room. You pull on a pair of sweats and throw off the oversized shirt you’d slept in in exchange for a tank top, forgoing a bra in the process. You rush into the bathroom and rapidly brush your teeth, accepting there not being any time to fix your tousled bed head.

Footsteps echo up the walkway on the other side of the front door as you approach and before you can think it through, you throw the door open. You only take a second to confirm that it is in fact Emily on the other side of it before rushing forward and throwing your arms around her.

A loud oomph erupts from lips, the sound muffled as you turn your face into her neck. It takes a few seconds for her to react, her arms slowly folding around you as she realizes that it is in fact a hug that you’re giving her and not an attempt to take her to the ground.

Tears leak from your eyes onto the fabric of her purple top. “I’m sorry,” you murmur into her shoulder.

Emily pulls away, her hands not leaving your shoulders as her brown eyes flicker across your face; her features drawn. “You’re sorry? You have nothing to be sorry for. I came here to apologize.”

You shake your head as something between a laugh and a sob bubbles up from your throat. “I’m so mad at you,” you start and reach forward with both hands to clasp her face in yours. “But I am so happy that you’re not dead and I understand why you had to do what you did.” You smile and drop your hands before playfully shoving her. “A bit though, isn’t it? Faking your death and fleeing the country? Where’d you get that idea? Lifetime?”

Emily smiles, flashing her teeth as she inclines her head this way and that. “I did always have a flair for the dramatics.”

The door creaks then and you turn to watch Hotch push the door open. He smiles as he takes in the sight of you and Emily reconciling. “I put on a pot of coffee,” he says. “How many mugs should I bring out?”

You look between him and Emily. “Three,” you answer, turning your attention back to Emily. “Definitely three.”

Emily smiles and follows you inside, greeting Hotch with a short hug before joining you in the living room. As Hotch busies himself in the kitchen and the smell of coffee starts to fill the air, you start to feel like life might finally start to return to normal.

[jellyfishsthings]

The five times you left Spencer speechless (or how I like to call it, in quiet awe)

Warnings: reader wears glasses but no biggie, reader can fight and use a gun because why not, bau!reader, smitten Spence, nothing happens just feelz, Spence's drug addiction... I think that it

1. The first meeting

It had been a long week. People were crowding the small space of the bullpen. It had been the first case after Gideon's return, and Spencer had been buzzing with excitement to work with his mentor again. The case hadn't been particularly easy, and almost one agent named Elle Greenaway had been lightly injured, who would from now on work with them. His eyes were burning, and he gave into the temptation to wear his glasses as he looked into the nearly filled report in front of him, containing at least seventeen pages worth of information. Madame Strauss claimed that his reports were unnecessarily detailed, how that was a problem he couldn't tell. The hours seemed to blur together as he continued writing his report, losing many minutes trying to form his handwriting into something more presentable.

That was the moment. The time he first laid eyes on her. He had read many romance novels, which he wasn't going to admit, that the moment someone met the one time seemed to slow to near non-existent and his reality at the moment seemed like something coming out of a book.

She was wearing a chunky white pullover with huge sleeves that strangely represented bells and a light brown plaited skirt that reached just at the middle of her thighs. Long legs that seemed to be going on for miles ended at a pair of black Mary Jane's. And sure, her appearance was incredible, but that was not what made him make a double take. He was sure he was hallucinating as he saw the most beautiful face he had seen in his life, looking as if it was something that came out of a Renaissance painting. Her hair was in a braid resting on her shoulder, and wire-framed glasses sat on her nose, making her eyes appear slightly bigger. A tattered pair of wired headphones framed her face, and for a second, Spencer forgot how to breathe, the most cognitive function, the one he had been able to do since he first entered this world. His ears were buzzing, and his brain was running in endless circles.

A hand was moving in front of him, and he stared at the angel that was standing in front of him. Her mouth was moving, probably talking to him, and he willed himself to pay attention.

“S-Sorry.”

“It's alright.” The angel answered him; maybe he had finally overdone it with the sugared coffee he was drinking as if it were his primary source of hydration. “ I am looking for Aaron Hotchner.”

“R-Right. Umm…”

“Good, you are here. Come with me.” Hotch's voice echoed in the empty room, and Spencer's cheeks flamed an angry red as the girl turned and kindly waved at him as she quickly climbed the stairs and entered the conference room. Spencer had half a mind not to turn his chair and stare at her. With an unnecessary loud cough, he turned back at his report and thanked his luck for Morgan's absence because if he had witnessed this, he was going to hear the end of this anytime

2. The lesson

A month had passed since he first saw her. And yet, he could recall her vividly, the deep-set eyes, the rosy lips. His birthday had been a blur as he celebrated them in the office and invited JJ in a lame attempt to ask her out which just resulted in a long evening where JJ and Penelope talked endlessly and he could comprehend the sport he was supposedly watching.

He was waiting in Hotch's office as a stand-in. He was teaching a young agent to join the unit and he was thrilled when he heard that the student was just a few months shy of his own age. At the moment, he was trying to move a huge board to the office when someone lightly tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around way too fast and came face to face with the angel he saw, the one he thought he willed into existence.

“Do you need help with that?”

“No, no. I got it. Are you Hotch's student?” Ge asked and immediately regretted it. Of course, she was his student. Why did he have to lose half of his IQ around her? He gave one last hard shove to the board end and then aligned it with the desk. “So um… Hotch asked me to be your tutor for today if that is alright with you. Um… What material are you studying?”

“Mostly psychology. Which I am not very good at, by the way.” She retrieved a huge book from her bag and a small pencil case that was filled with just a pen and three markers, red, yellow, and green. Just as she opened the book, he could see that its majority was colored and that it had notes in the margins. His heart thudded louder in his chest.

“What do all those colors mean?” He asked curiously as he approached her.

“Well green means that I understand it; yellow means that I am working on it and red … I just have no clue. It's just mostly yellow at the moment, though the notes help.”

“What's red?” She looked at him in a strange way, and too late did he realize that she was studying him, his question had been earnest and probably too forward, and he rushed to explain himself. “ I just - I asked because I have a PhD in the subject.” He could see her eyebrows lifting before they settled in a scowl and whacked his brain to understand what he said wrong.

“You are Doctor Reid, right?” She asked quietly, and he stupidly nodded as an answer to her question. “Well there is … I don't understand some differences between some categories of killers; they have much in common, so why are they in a separate category?”

“The answer is actually way simpler I'd you think of it in a Venn diagram.” He rushed to the board, and drew a few circles, and he started writing on it as he explained its category separately. He talked for what seemed like hours, and he embarrassingly looked at his watch. He must have been talking for over an hour, and he turned to look at the girl only to find her writing on her book, still in the margins looking at him expectantly. The way she was staring at him almost had him stammering once again, and he felt his knees weaken for a strange reason. So he carried on.

When he was done, he turned to look at her; she was still writing something before she whispered. “You need to tuck your chest in when you are firing a gun.”

“I'm sorry?”

“Aaron said that he was having trouble with one of his agents' firearm training, and it must be you. You have a long torso, so your weight center is different from the diagrams in the training books you must have read. That's why you keep missing.” And just like that, she was gone again wishing him good night and a nice weekend.

His head was spinning as he walked towards the training room, and he wore his earmuffs and protective glasses. Tuck your chest in. And so he did before aiming and pressing the trigger three times. His shots were the best, but he hadn't missed. Pride swarmed his chest; he was going to do it.

The next day, he failed his exam. He had lost his gun.

3. The first case

Small-town cases were always the most thrilling in his humble opinion. And any time somehow a cult or demons were involved, he worked ten times harder to prove them wrong. Only this time, their team had a new member. Gideon did seem to take a liking to her, in contrast with Spencer, who was incredibly warm to her the moment she entered the room. Maybe it was because he had met her before, or maybe it was because whenever she was around him. Somehow, his conversation with Morgan had turned to the explanation of attraction in the neurotic sector.

“Chemicals, such as dopamine, may cause one to be giddy, euphoric, and even to experience suppressed hunger and sleep cues. You may recall a time when someone made your heart thud erratically in your chest, heat rise in your body making you blush, and the sensation of being tongue-tied or not able to form coherent thoughts. These are the characteristics of attraction.”

“Is that what you feel around her then? Because you don't act like yourself around her. I mean, come on, you are a germaphobe, and you were the first to shake her hand.”

He’s a germaphobe, he is, and that doesn’t just go away when you meet someone lovely, but he did shake her hand. She surprised him too quickly to think beyond taking her hand, letting it happen. Their formal meeting, the one where they acted as if they hadn't spent an evening together in this same room. Hotch gave him a funny look. Mostly impassive, but not quite, and he was definitely on to him. In the duration of the case, he tried to keep his distance, which didn't go that well when he found himself staring at the barrel of a gun that was aimed at him. Everything went by too quickly as she dove toward the UnSub, without a second thought tackling him to the ground and disarming him in a few short seconds. He wanted to be impressed, yet he had seen her in the training room with Morgan as they had hand-to-hand combat. She moved with agility, and her every move seemed calculated and strategic. He had felt his heart stutter in his chest as she helped him stand and checked him for injuries.

He was lovestruck as Penelope teased him. His silly crush on JJ had been entirely forgotten.

4. The Lila Archer incident

He was an idiot. It was the first time he would characterize himself in such a way. And hopefully the last.

When you guard a beautiful actress, Spencer, don't jump in the pool with her.

Love,

Spencer

He could identify the disappointment in his colleagues' faces from the very first second, yet the one that pierced him the most was hers. She barely spoke during the discussions about the possible type of the UnSub, no matter how much Elle or Hotch urged her on. She had been stuck with him for pretty much all of the cases and he had to admit that she was a brilliant young woman. The others interpreted her quietness as an inability to profile but her insights were what had helped him make some major breakthroughs on the last cases. When they congratulated him for that he simply smiled stating that he didn't work alone yet the others probably thought that he was just trying to cover his partner and not share mutual credit for their work. It unnerved him how she seemed incredibly distant and stoic always five paces away from the rest of the team.

Yet this time she seemed furious, it was the deathly kind of quiet, the one that sent a chill to his bones and left all the apologies that were spewing up in his brain die on his tongue.

Frustration was welling up on him and he tried to muster up the courage to talk to her, only to find her crying in Morgan's arms. He couldn't understand for the life of him what she was saying and a selfish, terrible part of him hoped that, maybe, she had been crying for him.

5. The drug addiction

Tobias Hankel was going to be a name that would haunt him for the rest of his life. Sometimes deep into the night he was still at that cabin fighting for his life, the one time his intelligence wasn't enough. What drew him to steal those few bottles of Dilaud from his pocket, why he used them, why he formed his addiction. He didn't want to be a drug addict but it was his new reality. He desperately tried to stop it, tried to hide it and always felt ashamed when he relapsed to that horrible habit. He would sit in his bathroom sweating, crying and begging a higher force, a higher being to end his torment, despite never being a religious man, only for his phone to ring demanding his presence because of a new case and for him to fall back to his old routine.

It was a tough journey and he wanted to talk with his friends about that, he needed their help, yet they ignored his problem as if it didn't exist, even though the signs were clear. He was always lashing out, having terrible mood swings and when they tried to confort him about it he lashed out. He had met an old friend of his and he had been the only one he had been brutally honest about his … condition. Gideon knew, his mentor knew, he had the confirmation, yet he turned a blind eye to the situation. Everyone did, except from her.

Everyday she would bring him his extra sweet coffee filled to the brim with stevia and not sugar, because sugar was just as addictive. When he craved, he played with his fingers, tried to distract himself but to no avail, a long strip of hard licorice sweets would appear in front of his face, after research be learned that the flavourful of licorice was extremely distinctive and strong and its hard texture led a person to chew endlessly at just one piece. It was the best food to consume to distract yourself. Every night after a case she would show up at his place with Greek takeout, which was apparently the best cousine, and demand longtime marathons of a show or series of movies, which wasn't something unusual for the two of them. She visited him because she knew that he would never use in her vicinity. He had never known true love until that moment and he recalled a quote by Jane Austin.

To be loved is to be known.

words: 3.007

[sundrop-writes]

Sundrop's Criminal Minds Masterlist

Lessons For A Genius - Capsule Series (Temporarily Complete)

Note: This is a Capsule Series, so each fic can be read as an individual oneshot. There is no overarching story, and no specific ending.

Lesson One: Slick Silicone - Sub!Spencer Reid x (BAU)Dom!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Friends With Benefits. Smut. Despite being a genius, Reid still has a lot left to learn about life. (Mostly sex related.) And he definitely wants to learn from you. His first lesson? Well, a linguistics lesson turns into a hands-on demonstration with a very special toy. (17,200 words.)

Lesson Two: Magic Metacarpals - Sub!Spencer Reid x (BAU)Dom!Fem!Reader. (Pining) Friends With Benefits. Smut. After receiving his first lesson, Spencer is eager to learn more for you. So you teach him the next logical thing - how to pleasure you in return. (26,300 words.)

The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes - Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Lovers. Fake Dating. Hurt and Comfort. While undercover inside the Separatarian Sect, you and Spencer realize something important: you can’t live without each other. (8,200 words.)

Push and Pull - Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader - Co-Workers to Lovers. Smut, Sexual Tension. When investigating Viper, Emily doesn't fall for his tricks, and in fact - spends the night teasing him by showing more interest in you. Little did she know, she was driving you insane in the process. (2,800 words.)

The Perfect Brat - Dom!Elle Greenaway x Dom!Fem!Reader x Sub!Spencer Reid. Co-Workers with Benefits. Smut/PWP. Spencer acts up, so you and Elle put him in his place. (2,900 words.)

Loverboy - Bratty!Virgin!Spencer Reid x (Dom)Fem!Reader. Co-Workers with Benefits. Smut/PWP. You try your hardest to make Spencer's first time a good one. (3,100 words.)

Black Suit - Dom!Emily Prentiss x Sub!Fem!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut/PWP. After a particularly hard case, Emily takes you home and helps you unwind by showing you exactly where you belong. (2,900 words.)

From Your Lips - Jennifer Jareau x GN!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut, Hurt and Comfort. After JJ is attacked on the Hankle farm, you take the time to check on her and distract her flustered mind. (3,000 words.)

Figure It Out - A Criminal Minds Casefic. Fem!Reader x Gen!BAU Team (Platonic). General Casefic, modelled after a Criminal Minds episode. Angst, Mystery, Hurt and Comfort. When the team takes a case in your hometown - a secret that you have been trying to hide for years comes to be known with a vengeance. (18,000 words.)

Meddle About - Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Lovers. Smut. Morgan calls you Reid's 'Mommy', and you don't think much of it - but Reid can't get it out of his head. It accidentally slips out of his lips, and you like how it sounds coming from him. (6,300 words.)

Pathetic - Dom!Elle Greenaway x Switch!GN!Reader x Sub!Spencer Reid. Established Dom/Sub Relationship. Smut/PWP. Spencer gets punished again - in a very creative way. (2,600 words.)

She Keeps Me Up - Dom!Jennifer Jareau x Sub!Fem!Reader. Established Dom/Sub Relationship. Smut/PWP. JJ is very protective of you - and very possessive of you. When an UnSub leaves a tiny scratch on you, she feels the need to remind you exactly who you belong to. (3,100 words.)

Jennifer Jareau x Fem!Autistic!Reader Headcanons

Jennifer Jareau and Emily Prentiss Kink Headcanons

Random Spencer Reid Headcanons

JJ Being Protective Of You (Jennifer Jareau x Fem!Autistic Reader)

The Scale of Dominance and Submissiveness in The Criminal Minds Characters (Headcanons)

How would Spencer react to you teasing him with a lollipop?

How would Spencer react to you fainting around him?

How would Spencer, Emily, and Elle react to getting proposed to?

How would Derek, Emily, and Spencer react to your daughter being clingy with them?

Note: This last fic links off to AO3. I'm probably not going to edit it and post it on Tumblr - it's going to live on AO3. So if you want to read it, you can do so at this link.

Burn The Witch - Spencer Reid x (BAU)Fem!Reader. Mutual Pining Co-Workers. Heavy Angst, Smut, Casefic. (Series - Complete.) You weren’t sure which you regretted more: acting on your feelings for Spencer, or writing them down first. But there wasn't much room for regrets when a psychopath was waving a gas can in front of your face and telling you he intended to turn you to ashes. (69,900 words.)

[sweetestspence]

" and then there were two "

summary: the bau recruits a new agent whose credentials arguably match their very own boy wonder’s pairing: s1!spencer reid x f!reader genre: fluff wc : 2.5k

part of the holy ground series.

“Did you hear? About the new agent?” Elle enters the bullpen with Derek, slinging an arm around his shoulders in an attempt to pull him closer. She keeps her voice just loud enough for him to hear, but it catches the attention of the agents that walk past them. Whispers of a new BAU team member had been lingering around the office for the past few days, especially one of this particular agent’s caliber.

“You heard too- What do you have over there Reid?” Derek’s train of thought had been cut of thought had been cut off the second the pair reached Spencer’s desk, the young man’s attention transfixed on a smooth stone between his fingers.

Spencer looks up, but keeps the pebble in his palm. “I picked it up from the beach a couple of days ago, I thought it looked nice so-”

“That pebble has been within a few feet of a dead body and you still picked it up?” Elle teases, cutting him off and taking the stone for him palm, bringing it up to her eye-level to ‘examine’. “It’s a strange shape though, I’ll give you that.”

Elle returns the rock back to Spencer which he places atop his desk. “You two were talking about the new agent… What- what do you think they’re like?”

Derek shrugs his shoulders. “I didn’t hear anything from Hotch or JJ, other than she’s coming in today.”

“Thank god another woman around, I was worried that we’d always be outnumbered by you four.” Elle breathes an exaggerated sigh of relief before continuing, “All I heard was the agent graduated early and worked in law for a bit.”

“You two definitely heard a lot more than I did.” Spencer’s brows furrow, his mind filled with questions of the new addition to their team. He didn’t even know they were looking for recruits, his eyes scan around the bullpen, drifting from Elle and Derek as he searched for an unfamiliar face. 

And he finds one. Standing by the doorway. You looked nervous. You’re biting the inside of cheek, your eyes scanning around the bullpen in search of a familiar figure. Possibly Hotch. You keep to yourself, as if you’re afraid of taking too much space. But it feels like a front, you’re just in an unfamiliar environment. It isn’t until Derek snaps his fingers in front of his face that he drops his train of thought. If you were the newest addition to the team, he probably shouldn’t be profiling you. 

“Did pretty boy find himself a pretty girl?” Derek laughs, following Spencer’s gaze. 

“She just looks new that’s all.” Spencer quickly averts his eyes to the rock on his desk, but it’s too late. Elle had caught on and managed to see you waiting by the door as well. 

She crosses her arms and quickly looks at you before looking back at Spencer. “Looks like you found our new agent.”

You take a couple of deep breaths before fully committing to entering the bullpen. Three people had just looked at you before returning to their conversation. You know you should probably find your unit chief first, and he’d be the one to make introductions for you. But it wouldn’t hurt to introduce yourself… right? You couldn’t ponder on the question for too long as your feet seemed to have a mind of their own, moving in the direction of Spencer’s desk where he, Derek, and Elle are.

“Hi!” You smiled, reaching a hand out for them to shake. “I’m Y/n, I’m supposed to be starting in the BAU today.”

Spencer raises a brow. You didn’t introduce yourself as an agent, only your first name. He shares a look with Elle who only shakes her head at him, as if telling him not to read into it too much. 

Derek shakes your hand. “Derek Morgan.”

“Elle Greenaway. Really nice to meet you, Y/n. I apologize we were not being subtle at all.” Elle laughs.

“Don’t worry-” You wave off her apology with a small smile, but before you could continue speaking, Derek cuts you off.

“Used to being stared at from across a room? You don’t seem like the type who buys her own drinks at the bar.” He smirks, exaggeratedly checking you out to prove his point. 

Elle rolls her eyes and gently shoves his side. “Cool it, Morgan. She’s new.” 

“It’s fine.” You nod your head towards the person directly in front of you, turning your attention turns towards the only one who hasn’t introduced himself. 

Instead of offering his hand to shake, Spencer simply offers you a sheepish smile. “Dr. Spencer Reid.”

“Doctor. Cool.” 

Your brows shoot up in surprise and Spencer searches for any sign of derision or contempt in your tone and expression. He’s used to getting such anytime he’s introduced himself to anyone older, even more so around people his age; which you seemed to be.

But you seemed to be genuinely impressed. Instead of asking a follow up question on how someone as young as him could possibly have the title of doctor attached to his name, you nod towards the small rock on his desk. 

“Most people decorate their desks with pictures, or maybe even little figurines. May I?”

Spencer gestures that you go ahead and you take the rock from his desk, examining it in a similar way that Elle had a few minutes prior.

“Anyone who would willingly want to work at the BAU isn’t going to be like most people.” Derek quips. “If it’s colorful things you’re after I’m more than willing to take you on a little field trip to our technical analyst’s office.”

“I think it’s neat though.” You move to return the pebble back, but Spencer holds a hand up, effectively stopping you in your tracks.

“You can have it if you want. You can, um,” he pauses before pushing your hand back towards you, his skin not actually touching yours, “consider it a welcome gift. Besides I think I picked up a couple more.”

“You know, male penguins offer rocks as a gift to woo female penguins… So if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were flirting with me.” You attempt to sound nonchalant, but there’s a hint of a teasing tone that laced your words. “On my very first day too.”

Spencer’s lips part, at a loss for words. He scratches the back of his head, trying to look at everything but you. “I, um- no, I wasn’t- I just thought-”

You chuckle at his cheeks turning the slightest shade of pink, but decide to quell his embarrassment. “Relax, Dr. Reid. I was kidding.”

“So male penguins don’t do that?” Elle asks, turning to you.

“Well they do, actually.” Spencer answers the question for you, chiming in without a second thought. “The female penguins often use the rocks to build a kind of nest.”

Derek’s gaze quickly travels between you and Spencer. “How do either of you even know about that?”

“I read about it.” Spencer shrugs.

“Yeah, that checks out.” Derek mumbles, but his words are clear enough that it makes Elle chuckle and shake her head. He turns to you, “And Y/n?”

“I couldn’t sleep one night and a nature documentary was the only thing remotely interesting on.” 

Elle leans closer towards Derek and turns away from you and Spencer, speaking in a low enough voice that only he could hear. “Oh god, looks like we have two of them now.”

Before you could even ask about it, Hotchner has already managed to walk towards your little group. “Briefing room. You can continue your introductions there. JJ’s got a case for us.”

All four of you know better than to do anything that isn’t following Hotch to the briefing room. JJ had already set up an extra chair for you, and you wait for everyone to take their seats before you take the available space between Morgan and Elle. 

“Agent L/n.” Hotch bring’s everyone’s attention towards you as soon as he’s noticed you settle in your seat. “I believe you’ve met agents Morgan, Greenaway and doctor Reid. This is SSA Jason Gideon. JJ, our liaison. And Penelope Garcia, our technical analyst.”

“I’m excited to work with everyone. Thank you for having me.” You greet, sitting-up a little straighter, a tight-lipped smile spreading across your face. 

“Oh don’t be so nervous, sweetheart. Your work’s impressive-”

“Garcia, you already looked her up?” Derek asks, but there isn’t a single ounce of shock in his voice or expression.

“Honey, whispers of a new agent? Of course, I looked her up.” Penelope responds, twirling her sparkly pen around. “Not only did cutie over here graduate early every single time, she did a double degree for her undergrad. Also got a near perfect score on the LSAT, passed the bar in the top ten, and currently trying to get a doctorate in sociology.”

You blink back at her, you weren’t even planning to go into detail about your background to the team. Before you could even ask her how she was able to find out, Gideon speaks up from across the table.

“A lawyer? Prosecutor?”

You nod. “Didn’t even last a full year. I always felt like I could be doing more, you know? Applied to join the FBI, worked in the field for a bit, and now here I am.”

Nobody misses the flash of recognition in Hotch’s eyes. After all, it’s a familiar story. But no one presses further. 

“Garcia, when you said near-perfect score…” JJ trails off, her eyes trained on Penelope. 

“Very near.” Penelope turns to you with a smile, seemingly proud despite just having met you. “179.” 

“It’s not really something I go around telling people.” You avoid eye contact with the rest of the team and look down at your lap, fiddling with your thumbs from underneath the table. Despite this, you could still feel everyone’s gaze on you. 

“You should. Hell, I would.” Derek jokes before looking between you and Spencer. “Trying to get a doctorate too. We’ve got a matching set of boy wonder and girl wonder over here.” 

“We’ll be introducing you as Dr. L/n pretty soon, huh?” Elle leans closer towards you, gently hitting your shoulder and causing you to look up at her. 

You smile sheepishly at the rest of the team. “I wouldn’t know about soon. I’ve actually been struggling to finish my dissertation.”

Spencer’s lips part. He feels the need to say something, perhaps some words of encouragement. Maybe he could even offer to help you with your work. Especially considering he had also gone through the process of getting a doctorate. Thrice, in fact. But before he could get a single word out, Hotch’s voice is already filling the briefing room.

“I’m sure we’ll get to know more about agent L/n in the coming days. For now, we have a case to get to.”

___

“This one is yours.” JJ leads you to your desk in the bullpen. Despite it being apparently unoccupied, there's a few piles of folders and loose pieces of paper strewn around. “If you need anything, just let me or Hotch- or the rest of the team really- know. I’ll let you settle in, but remember wheels up in thirty.”

“Got it. Thanks JJ.”

“No problem.” 

You take out a couple of things you know you’d want on your desk from your bag; a couple of cute pen holders, some post-its, a couple of pictures. You feel around your bag and take out a book you were reading. You were wondering why you felt like your bag was unusually heavy. Then again, you were zooming around your apartment earlier in the day as you had slept through your alarm. As a result, you pretty much grabbed the first bag you saw and haphazardly stuffed your things inside.

“Neil Gaiman?”

You hear someone ask from beside you.

“Huh?”

Spencer is standing by your desk, eyes trained on the book in your hand. He tilts his head over across the small aisle that separated yours and his desks and stuffs his hands in the pockets of his pants. “Mine is just over there. It’s hard to miss, people don’t usually bring non case related things to read.”

“Oh, right I actually forgot this was here… I was going to join this book club and I was really excited about it too. But I just found out their meetings coincide with work hours, so now I’ve read this nearly 500 page fantasy novel and no one to talk to about it.”

A beat passes. Then another. A small surge of nervousness goes through your veins. It almost feels like you were oversharing. You were just introduced to the team, they probably didn’t need to know much about what you do outside of work. 

“You can discuss it with me, if you’d like.” He briefly looks down at his feet, almost as if he’s carefully picking his next words. And he was. You were new, but you seemed nice enough. And he didn't mind the idea of taking a breather from discussing cases to discussing books, without said books having to do with a case. He didn't exactly want to come off too strong. “I like to read too. Have you finished?”

“Almost.” You click your tongue, considering his offer. Spencer shifts his weight from side to side, anticipating a response. The corners of your mouth twitches upwards at his earnestness. “That would be nice actually… how much time do you need to finish it? A couple of days or…?”

Spencer takes the book from your desk, flipping through the pages, considering the font size, the writing style. He even raises a brow when he notices the highlights and notes you’ve made across the margins. He hands it back to you with a small smile. “Give or take fifteen minutes.”

“You’re kidding.” You don’t even bother to hide the shock that’s plastered on your face. He’s a profiler, he would have noticed anyway. You flip through the pages yourself, trying to figure out if he was referring to a different book. 

“I’m not.” Spencer shrugs his shoulders. “I mean I would have to buy a copy of my own first, which would have to wait until after the case.”

“Wow.” You let out a low whistle, more impressed than you had been earlier. “I guess it’s settled then. Let me know when you’ve eventually used up those fifteen minutes.”

“Okay, I will.”

“I look forward to it, Dr. Reid.”

“I do too, Agent L/n.”

Penelope Garcia and Derek Morgan watch the interaction from across the bullpen. Derek’s gaze follows Reid as he makes the short walk back to his desk. Spencer scratches the back of his head before quickly looking back across the aisle to where you were sitting. But of course, you were too busy getting your things in order to notice. 

Derek keeps his voice low as he leans closer towards Penelope, crossing his arms across his chest. “Fifty bucks says pretty boy and girl wonder are going to get it on. He confesses first.”

Penelope notices you taking what looks to be a pebble from your pocket and place it by your pen holder, a soft smile spreading across your face as you looked towards Spencer. “Alright. I’ll take that action.”

taglist. @vader-is-hot @akimoons @taygrls <3

a/n. s1 spencer holds a soft spot in my heart goshh anyways- hii! i hope you enjoyed reading this- you know, despite it being mostly introductions >_< thank you for checking it out, and i hope u all have a good day :)

[marasmadness]

Would you be interested in doing a one shot with jealous/possessive Elle Greenaway and Jennifer Jareau fighting over f!reader? They compete over her and eventually f!reader just gets fed up and is like, both is good :)

PUSH AND PULL

Jennifer Jareau x fem!reader x Elle Greenaway

CW: Jealousy, smut, threesome, gay confusion (from about everyone except Elle), face sitting, strap-ons, slight praise & a little bit of fluff.

WC: 3315

~

“Tilt your head up,” JJ instructed, cupping your chin. You closed your eyes as she painted a black stripe of eyeliner across your eyelid. You were sitting on the floor of her living room with makeup sprawled across the entirety of her coffee table after she requested that you let her do your makeup before going out tonight.

The rest of the team would be coming as well, but all of them knew that you and JJ had been more closely connected than the rest of them. Shortly after you transferred to the BAU, JJ became your best friend. The two of you were inseparable. She had invited you over early to hang out at her place before you met everyone else at the restaurant. Tonight held more anticipation than most team gatherings: There would be another guest joining you for dinner, a returning agent.

According to JJ, Elle had been an agent quite a few years ago. She was talented, but cases happened and got to her, ultimately ending in her resignation. JJ had seemed somewhat close to her, even with the short amount of time they had spent together. She thought Elle might’ve gone on to be a lawyer, but she wasn’t positive. They hadn’t spoken in a while. From the team's stories, the woman sounded incredibly fascinating, and you were eager to meet her.

The two of you arrived just on time to find Hotch with Rossi already at a table and Penelope and Emily right behind you. Morgan had offered to pick Elle up from the hotel she was staying at while in town. A waitress appeared with waters just as they walked in. Cheers and greetings rose around the table. Morgan raised his ends dramatically, as if the excitement were directed at him and not the stunning woman to his left.

She was still in a red button-down and blazer. The click of her heeled boots turned the heads of their table in her direction as she entered. Her hair was a rosewood brown, resting in waves on her shoulders. Her deep brown eyes and sharp cheekbones that sloped down to her pursed lips produced an air of intimidation. Her face broke out into a smile, and she circled the table with hugs and greetings. You, Rossi, and Emily were the three unfamiliar to her, but she greeted you warmly. She brushed her hand along her shoulder before choosing the seat directly across from you, sending Morgan to the opposite end.

Crossing her arms, JJ leaned on the table in Elle’s direction. "So, what have you been up to? I told y/n I vaguely remember plans for law school, but we haven’t heard from you in forever.”

Elle nodded, swirling the ice in her drink. "I did! I graduated five years ago and then joined a firm started by another ex-FBI agent. It's been rewarding. I miss you guys, but this is a better fit for me.” Her demeanor was admirably confident as she elaborated on a few of her most memorable cases, including the case that returned her to near Quantico

JJ kept asking the questions, but Elle’s eyes kept darting over to land on you. Eventually, once JJ had finished the typical catch-up small talk, Elle turned her attention to you. "Sorry, I came in a bit of a flurry, and you never got to introduce yourself. I know Emily took my place, so how’d you end up at the BAU?"Her questions were simple, but the way her attention was directly and entirely on you made your face flush for some unknown reason. Her chin was in her palm, leaning her elbow on the table as she hung on to your every word.

"Well, JJ was on a case overseas. I took her place. Eventually she returned when Emily returned, but I ended up sticking around anyway. I guess I made a good enough impression.” You shrugged your shoulders, sharing a brief smile with JJ.

"Nobody wanted to get rid of her,” she teased, leaning in toward the table as she whispered.

Elle laughed softly with the two of you. "I can see why,’ she said smoothly. Your lips parted in soft surprise from the sudden and effortless compliment. Elle’s lips just curled into a quick smirk before she began twisting the silver rings decorating her hands.

JJ noticed your frozen stare and brought her hand down on top of your knee, rubbing it lightly. Morgan and Emily became rowdy as usual, attracting the attention of everyone at the table. Laughter filled the booth in the corner as compliments and jabs were thrown out of mouths all in one statement. Things settled down, only slightly, when the food arrived. A few nonchalant conversations continued, but it was mostly the scrape of forks against plates. Everybody was starving. The drinks kept coming throughout the night, and everybody’s inhibitions fell to the floor. Penelope had dragged an extra chair around to sit by Morgan and Emily. Rossi and Hotch had completely left the table, engaged in a conversation with the band, who were currently taking a break. With empty space in the booth, Elle took the opportunity to slide in next to you.

Both Elle and JJ were leaning forward slightly. "So, Elle, is there anyone new, a boyfriend or girlfriend?”

Elle’s eyes darted to you for the briefest moment. Clasping her hands in her lap, she answered the question pointedly before twisting the conversation back to JJ. "No, nothing at the moment, but if I’m interested in someone, I let them know. I think it’s silly to waste your chance with someone out of fear. And what about you? Did anything ever come from that thing with-” she froze, trying to retrieve his name. "Oh, Will!”

JJ’s cheek hollowed in with distaste from old memories, and having to admit that things hadn’t worked out. "No, that ended a while ago; it just wasn’t a good match."

The fuse of a growing tension had been lit, but you had yet to notice the tight lips and slight eyerolls exchanged between them. You hadn’t been looking for tension from them in the first place; JJ had mentioned she loved Elle when she was at the BAU and had missed her.

Elle frequently sought you out through the night, constantly starting conversations. "Oh, hang on, your necklace is twisted.” She leaned toward you, her hands brushed against your neck as you adjusted the thin gold chains hanging from your neck. You froze as her hand lingered lightly against your skin, and you could smell hints of her deep cherry perfume from your close proximity.

She only pulled away when JJ’s hand clamped down on your shoulder. "Hey, run to the restroom with me?” You were up and out of your seat with the tug of her hand before you nodded. Leaning on the sink, you frowned, watching JJ become obsessive over every inch of her appearance, something she only did when she was nervous.

"Are you okay? You seem a little on edge tonight."

Her face cracked into a small smile. "Yeah, I’m okay, just feeling a bit off. You notice everything.” Her smile turned into a real one, and she wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you in for a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thank you for checking in on me.”

Elle slid back against the seat so you could slide back into the booth when you returned to the table. As you squeeze by with your hands braced on the table, you feel Elle’s hands drift up to your lower back, sending a flurry of butterflies up in your stomach. Her hands fell back into her lap as you sat down, but you caught a small smirk on her face.

Eventually the waiter started to linger around the table. You got the hint and started passing around the bills. The team walked out in a huddle, shielded from the cold, dropping everyone off at the cars. Once you reached Emily’s car, you were left alone with JJ and Elle. Morgan and Penelope had gotten distracted, lingering in the entryway. "Here, we can take you home,” you suggested without hesitation. Pulling open the door, you stepped back, allowing Elle to climb into the back seat.

"Thanks, love,” she said, squeezing your arm that she was still clinging to.

JJ became excessively touchy for the rest of the car ride. Her hand rested on your thigh permanently, and you slowly rubbed her hand up and down your leg at every stoplight. Elle seemed perfectly content in the back, focused on her text messages, while JJ started talking about what the two of you might do this weekend or breezily joining a conversation when she found a smooth opening. The fact that she wasn’t as quick to fall into JJ’s jealous state was irritating your best friend. She knew you could be quickly defensive at times, even when it was silly, but her head just wouldn't let it go when it came to you. She had always held your dating partners to higher standards than her other friends, even though very few of them ever became serious. Contrary to when she first joined the BAU as the teams communications liaison, she enjoyed time spent with you individually much more than team gatherings.

As you approached the hotel, Elle leaned forward by your shoulder, guiding you toward the parking lot of the building she was staying in. While gathering up her stuff, she stopped with her hand on the handle. "Do you guys want to come in for a moment? The best I can offer you is coffee and vending machine snacks, but I’d like to get to know you more in a quiet setting.”

“Sure!”

“ Actual-” JJ stopped when she heard the excitement in your voice and decided to remain quiet with difficulty. She took a deep breath, got out, and jogged to catch up to you and Elle, who was waiting with the door held open.

The elevator ride up was awkward to say the least. Nobody talked or barely breathed, which actually made it twice as unbearable. You were stuck between wanting to spend time with your best friend and comforting newcomers and also feeling stuck between the tension that had followed the three of you around all night but not being able to figure out its cause.

"The coffee station is down the hall if anybody wants some." Elle trailed off as she dug through her purse for the hotel’s key card.

"I can go grab three,”you offered.

"Thank you so much; it’s three rooms down on the right."

You shuffled down the mall to pour up cups for the three of you while Elle let JJ inside. Quickly pressing on three lids, you cautiously headed back down the hall. Elle’s door was still cracked open a bit, and you could hear their voices from inside.

You were ready to walk right in, but something about their tone stopped you. The jealousy and tight-lipped questions from the rest of the night seemed to have disappeared, and they were talking softly like old friends again.

"How long have you known?"

You recognized Elle’s voice as the slightly lower one and felt bad for eavesdropping, but your curiosity got the better of you. Known what? JJ told you everything, or at least that’s what you assumed.

You heard JJ sigh, and she took a moment to reply. You imagined her resting her head against her hand, like she did whenever she anxiously planned out her answer. "I honestly didn’t know until tonight. I thought I just liked her as a friend, but when the possibility of her being with someone else came up, I realized that I wanted her.”

You heard Elle release a heavy breath. Her voice became quieter, as if she had moved farther away from the door. "You have to tell her, Jay. You’ve been the closest of friends for, like, 8 years now?”

“I hate those kinds of conversations. They’re also so awkward, and I’m not good at expressing my feelings. And how would I even know if we have the attraction and chemistry aspect, not just a romantic connection?

Elle chuckled. "Sex, JJ, that would be the answer.

"Ugh, but sex with someone who I called a friend all of ten minutes before has always been awkward. It always seems restrained or calculated. I would just want to see if we could... Have fun, you know? I can’t believe I’m telling you all of this. You still have that effect on people.

"What, the one that makes people want to confess to a crush on their best friend and sex life? I think that’s just you babes.” High-pitched laughter from both of them blended together.

"If you want something new and exciting, then initiate something new and exciting. I think it would be a terrible mistake to pass up the possibility of something working out between you. I mean, have you seen her?

There was a long silence and then an exchange of gasps between them that made you think they might be having a conversation with their eyes.

“No, are you serious?”

You began to only be able to hear clips of the conversation. The rest was only in barely audible whispers that you were unable to discern.

"I mean, only if you’re interested. No strings, of course; I’ll be leaving. I do happen to be great at loosening people up, and I’m not saying I wouldn’t enjoy it. I also completely understand if your answer is no, jealousy is complicated."

Someone began approaching you from the other end of the hotel hallway, and you didn’t want to be caught seemingly eavesdropping on a hotel guest's conversation. Slipping inside, you shut the door behind you loud enough to announce your return.

"Hey darling, you can just set them on the counter over there.” Elle called out from her spot, sprawled out on the corner of her couch. JJ sat on the other end. Neither of their faces hid the effects of their conversation well, but while Elle’s was a deepening sense of confidence, JJ’s was a spreading blush and eyes darting back and forth. "Was the machine slow again? You took a minute."

You shifted your weight back and forth on the heels of your feet as you debated telling them you had overheard. Your eyes darted to the hotel door that had been propped open, possibly purposefully. Maybe you were reading into it, but you had seen the caution and paranoia that takes over FBI agents even in their personal lives. Elle should be no exception, and wouldn’t live hotel doors in the center of the city propped open. “ I um overheard snippets of your conversation and it sounded serious, so I decided I’d wait outside until you were finished.

Elle smiled softly, glancing at JJ to watch her expression just as you were. She went through every emotion in about twenty seconds. Her face grew pale with the natural instinct of being overheard, but then she almost looked more relieved. Possibly one less awkward conversation out of the way, she didn’t have to hide it like a secret from you any longer, and the ball was now in your court.

"We've been friends for years JJ. I think you already know what my response will be. I’m open to it, all of it.” The words rolled off your tongue as you tilted your head, and both women straightened up with attention.

"God,” Elle chuckled under her breath, sipping at the drink you handed her.

You smirked, tilting your head toward the bedroom a few steps away, and reveled at the way JJ’s eyes darkened with desire. Both women were silently up and behind you with soft footsteps as you climbed on the bed. They stood on the edge while you kneeled into the mattress.

Elle pulled off JJ's jacket, letting it fall to the floor. Goosebumps rose along the back of the blonde’s neck. You reached forward and tugged her closer to you by her belt, causing her breath to hiccup. You undid her belt painfully slowly while she tangled her hands in your hair. Elle was slightly turned away, undressing in front of the nightstand. Your heartbeat fluttered at the sight of a harness hanging from her hips. JJ tugged on your hair, sending sparks through your scalp. "Let me eat you out baby,” you begged, dragging your nails down her thighs with a cheshire grin.

“Sit on her face,” Elle challenged as she orchestrated your positions all while climbing up in between your legs.

JJ seemed hesitant to have her weight balanced above your mouth and gripped the headboard harshly. With gentle reassurance, you guide her downwards until she gasped at the contact of your lips brushing against her cunt. Elle spurred you on, dragging her red faux cock along your slick folds. Your hands grabbed at JJ’s ass, enjoying the soft pants that fell from her lips as your tongue explored her. Flicking her clit sent quivers through her thighs, and she moved her hands down to your chest, kneading your breasts.

It didn’t take you long to realize Elle was reacting along with you. Every time your lips closed around JJ’s clit, stimulating the sensitive bundle of nerves, Elle thrust into you with a bruising grip on your hips. Each of your movements drew JJ and consequently, yourself closer to an orgasm.

Elle’s pace suddenly quickened, causing you to moan. JJ cried out from the vibrations, digging red crescents into your skin. "Fuck,” she panted. "You're doing so good baby,” she praised, wiping the mix of juices from the corner of your mouth. Bringing her fingers to her mouth, she hollowed out her cheeks as she sucked them clean. Returning your mouth to her cunt with fresh motivation, you ran your tongue along her slit, and her thighs clenched over your ears. All sound became muted by the sound of blood rushing in your head and JJ’s murmuring off soft praises as she ran her fingers over all of your body that she could reach.

You felt your legs stretch as Elle rested your heels on her shoulders. The new angle allowed her to pound in with you at a breathtaking new angle. Just as the rough movement of her hips rocking against yours was about to transform into pain, a smooth, ecstatic feeling left your lungs traveling through your limbs with a hazy sensation.

JJ elicited a combination of moans and satisfied whimpers as her body tensed and her cum coated your lips with a trembling orgasm. Her toned thighs relaxed from alongside your head and she ran her thumbs down your flushed cheeks. When she leaned backwards, Elle supported her easily, rubbing her hands up and down JJ’s legs from behind her.

Untangling yourselves, the three of you collapsed into the sheets with heartbeats pounding out of your chests and the quick rise and fall of your lungs. After a moment, JJ rolled over, tucking her arm around your waist. Lifting her head, she peered over your head to Elle, who was smiling at JJ’s soft act of affection from across the bed.

Your eyes were fluttering in and out, not focused enough to read their lips as they mouthed back and forth to each other. Elle, on the other hand, smirked at JJ’s exaggerated mouth shapes to convey an "Oh my god.”

Elle tipped her head with her everlasting confidence, responding with a silent, "You're welcome, that was…” She was unable to string her words together for the first time all night. JJ grinned adoringly as she rested her head on the pillow beside yours, curling her chin into your neck. Your eyelids finally sank completely closed upon the touch of her warm embrace.

[g1rld1ary]

do i make you nervous? - elle greenaway x fem!reader

cw: she/her pronouns, typical cm violence, petnames

wc: 1115

being stuck in a police station for six hours was not on your bingo card for the day. to be fair, it wasn't really on the bingo card for your year either. you were a good girl, you never broke the rules, you certainly didn't break the law. so, you'd never pictured yourself needing to be trapped under fluorescent lights waiting to talk to police officers, except for your bad luck in being caught in an almost violent bank hold-up.

not only that, of the many witnesses you were probably last in line, having to wait through hours of people going in and out of the tiny interview room. most of them left in tears, which really wasn't helping your nerves.

you'd resigned to your daydreams to pass the time; you'd finished the book from your purse hours ago and you could only play snake for so long. that was why you jumped violently when a hand lay on your shoulder, ripping you from your daydream. above you, the prettiest woman you'd ever seen was trying to hold back a laugh.

"i didn't mean to scare you," she said, and you found yourself smiling back at her. "just wanted to check if you wanted some water, pretty girl." sure enough she had offered a plastic cup toward you. you stared at it for a second before remembering your manners.

"oh! thanks, that's really nice of you." the woman shook her head.

"least we could do after keeping you here for so long. you come get me if you need anything else." you managed to nod and produce what you hoped was a smile despite your daze at the gorgeous woman.

you only waited for twenty more minutes after that before a man came out to get you.

"i'm derek morgan, special agent in the FBI. we just want to ask you some questions. i know the interrogation room looks scary, but we promise you're not in trouble. we just have to take what we can get in a precinct this small."

"i don't think anyone anticipated having this many witnesses in at once," you added, finding it much easier to talk to derek than the woman before. you didn't want to think about why that was.

it was straight to business once in the interrogation room. it was cold, like all the life had been sucked out of it. if you weren't already scared of the law you would have gone straight to avoid needing to return.

inside the room was the woman from before. you sucked in a nervous breath as you sat across from her, trying to split your looks evenly between her and morgan.

the woman finally introduced herself as ssa elle greenaway, and shook your hand in a way that had you weak in the knees. after the basic formalities, the two started asking you questions.

"alright, we'll start easy and warm you up to it. why were you at the bank this morning?"

"i'm moving into my first apartment in a few weeks. i lived on campus all of college and then stayed with my parents for a year or two as i was getting my career started. because i have no history of renting i had to sort out some papers and records with the bank and lucky me i chose today." both the agents made noises of sympathy.

"congratulations on moving out," elle said warmly, "too bad it's delayed by some maniac. do you remember seeing him walk in?"

you recounted the day in as much detail as you could remember, staring at your hands as you spoke. you were so anxious. all you could feel were eyes; morgan, elle, and you didn't know how many people could be observing you from behind the mirror. that, plus the trauma of being threatened with a gun hours before caught up to you all at once and you couldn't help the hot tears sitting on your waterline. both agents stopped at that, giving you a breather.

"morgan, think you can give us a minute?" elle said, not taking her eyes off of you. derek raised an eyebrow but agreed nonetheless, leaving the two of you alone.

elle grabbed your hands, holding them in hers over the table between you.

"let's slow down, just breathe, pretty girl." she forced you into silence for a few moments and you let your breathing fall into sync with hers.

"sorry," you said when you were mostly calm, "i'm really nervous."

"you've got nothing to be nervous about, baby, you haven't done anything wrong." god, you wanted to combust. this stunning woman was being so nice, holding your hands and calling you pet names, you couldn't handle it. she must have noticed your eyes trained on where you hands met -- unsurprising, you weren't being subtle -- and her soft expression turned into something of a smirk. "do i make you nervous?"

you nodded, almost imperceptibly, but elle's eyes were only on you. she couldn't contain her amusement, and you couldn't tell if you were offended that she was teasing you.

the rest of the interview was easier after elle knew the effect she had on you, eventually leaving derek as the sole agent when it got down to the facts you really needed to think about. although you knew it was necessary for the sake of the case, you were upset it meant you couldn't admire her more.

"we'll call you if we need anything else." derek walked you to the door, all smiles. you thanked him and assured him you'd be willing to give whatever the FBI needed.

just as you were descending the outdoor steps to the car park, you heard a heavy set of footsteps behind you. turning quickly, you were relieved to see elle following you. you gripped the strap of your purse nervously as you waited for her to speak.

"if you think of anything else, anything else you wanted to tell me, just reach out," she said, handing you a card. just as you opened your mouth to thank her she spoke again, "maybe you can start with where you got your jeans, your ass is irresistible." you could feel your flush hot on your cheeks as you mumbled some sort of goodbye, all but running to your car to scream.

safely at home, you could think more clearly, not hesitating to start composing a text message, including the brand of your jeans with a cheeky smiley face.

[badathumanemotions]

Needy

Elle Greenaway x Gender Neutral Reader

MDNI Master List Category: Smut CW: Afab Reader, Dirty Talk, Oral Sex, Dom/Sub, Vibrator, Mirror Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Aftercare. WC: 4,213 You've been needy all day for Elle, following her around like a lost puppy. Until finally she takes pity on you. (Not Proof Read)

You've been trailing behind Elle all day, your eyes fixed on her every move. Currently she's engrossed in her book, her fingers gently holding the book open, her eyes scanning the words. You wish those eyes would look at you, even for a moment, to acknowledge the silent plea you've been sending her way. Your body craves her touch, a craving that's been growing stronger as the day went on.

You hover at the edge of the couch, unsure if you should disturb her. It's like you're a lost puppy, hoping she'll drop her book and come over to pet you, to give you the attention you so desperately need. You've tried to be patient, to let her have her space, but it's becoming increasingly difficult.

Elle's eyes flick up from the pages, meeting yours briefly before returning to her book. She knows. She's been watching you, observing your restlessness, the way you've been trying to get her attention without actually saying a word. It's a silent dance the two of you have been doing all day, and she's enjoying it.

But now, as the shadows grow longer with the setting sun, she senses the urgency in your gaze. She sets her book down, creating the sound of pages slapping together. "You've been needy today" she says. She doesn't make it a question, but you nod anyway.

Elle motions for you to come over to her with a crook of her finger, the gesture stirring something in you. You feel your heart quicken, the anticipation of what's to come pulsing through your veins. You obey without a second thought, crossing the room to stand in front of her.

"On your knees," she says firmly. You drop to your knees, looking up at her with wide eyes that beg for more. She smiles, a knowing smile that tells you she's going to give you what you want, but on her terms.

Her hand reaches out to stroke your cheek, the softness of her touch setting your skin on fire. You lean into it, savouring the sensation, your eyes fluttering shut.

"What do you need, baby?" she asks. The question hangs in the air, loaded with meaning, a silent invitation for you to open up, to tell her exactly what it is that you crave.

You suddenly turn shy, not answering. Your cheeks flush and you drop your gaze to the floor. You're not used to being so forward, but today you're desperate for her.

Elle wasn't having it. She cups your chin, tilts your head back up to meet her gaze. "Tell me," her voice a command.

You swallow hard, trying to find the words to express the desire that's been consuming you. "I… I want to taste you," you finally manage to say, your voice barely a whisper.

Elle's smile widens, a hint of amusement sparkling in her eyes. "And why should I let you?" she challenges. Enjoying the power play, how you squirm under her scrutiny.

You promise to be good, to do anything she asks, to give her what she wants in return. The words spill out of your mouth, earnest and hopeful. You've never felt so vulnerable, but with her, it's safe to be this exposed.

Elle's eyes narrow slightly, considering your proposal. She leans back into the couch, watching you intently. "Anything?" she repeats, raising an eyebrow.

You nod fervently, your eyes steady on hers. "Anything," you reaffirm.

With a smirk, Elle says, "That's a dangerous thing to promise, sweetheart," before commanding you to strip.

You stand up, your hands shaking slightly as you pull your shirt over your head, you drop it to the floor, leaving you topless and in jeans. She watches you, her eyes raking over your body, as you undo the button and slide the zipper down. Your legs feel wobbly as you push your jeans down your thighs, stepping out of them and kicking them aside. Your panties are the last to go, leaving you bare before her.

She doesn't say anything, just continues to watch as you get onto your knees. You know what she wants, what she expects.

Elle rises from the couch with the grace of a panther, her movements slow and deliberate. She takes a step closer to you, and you can feel the heat radiating from her body. She places a hand on your shoulder, her fingers digging in just enough to make you aware of her strength, of the power she holds in this moment.

With the other hand, she unbuttons her pants and slides them down her long, toned legs. You watch, entranced, as she steps out of them, leaving herself in just a pair of panties and a white tank top.

Elle sits back down on the couch, spreading her legs open in a gesture that leaves no room for doubt. She's giving you access, inviting you in. You can see the dampness on her underwear, a sign of her arousal. Your mouth waters at the sight.

Without wasting another moment, you dive in, pressing your face between her thighs. The fabric of her panties is soft against your skin, but it's the scent of her, musky and sweet, that makes you go wild. You begin licking her through the fabric.

Even with the barrier of her underwear, you're more determined than ever to give her pleasure. You run your tongue along the seam, feeling her heat, her legs quiver slightly. You know she's enjoying it, but you want more. You want to taste her, to hear her moan, to feel her shudder with every touch of your mouth.

Summoning your courage, you gently push the fabric aside with your thumb. The skin beneath is hot and slick with anticipation. You hesitate for a moment, waiting for her reaction. When she doesn't protest, you take it as your cue. Your tongue darts out, tasting her for the first time.

You hmm happily as you lick and suck, her desire coating your mouth. Your eyes close in pleasure as you explore her folds, your nose bumping into the warmth of her sex. Her hand finds your hair, guiding you, urging you deeper.

Elle's breath hitches, and she lets out a low moan that vibrates through you, making your own arousal spike. You can feel yourself becoming pussy drunk, intoxicated by her taste, her scent, her response. Your own wetness begins to drip down your thighs as you eagerly devour her.

Her hips start to rock slightly, guiding your movements, setting the rhythm. You follow her lead, sucking harder, your tongue flicking and swirling around her clit. The sound of your wet mouth on her flesh fills the room, punctuated by her gasps and whimpers.

With both hands, you grip her hips firmly, your nails digging into her skin. The pressure you apply leaves faint white lines that stand out against her tanned skin. You can feel her muscles tighten beneath your fingers as she pushes against your face, grinding into your mouth.

You switch between quick, delicate kitten licks and sloppy, obscene slurping, your tongue swirling around her clit in a dance of pleasure. You're lost in lust, the only thing that matters is her satisfaction.

Elle's hand tightens in your hair, pulling you closer as she nears her climax. Her thighs clench around your head, trapping you in a vice. You don't mind; you crave it, the feeling of her body responding to your every touch.

When she finally cums, it's with a guttural moan that fills the room. Her body shakes, her hips bucking up to meet your mouth as she rides the wave of pleasure. But even as her orgasm subsides, you can't stop. You're lost in the taste of her.

Elle's grip on your hair loosens, and she pants heavily, her chest rising and falling. She's sensitive now, but you're relentless. You keep licking, savouring her taste. She squirms under you, her legs twitching.

You can feel her starting to build again, her breath catching. She whispers, "Fuck, don't stop," and you don't. Your tongue swirls around her clit, pressing firmly before moving down to taste her deeper. You're insatiable, driven by a hunger that's only grown with each of her moans.

Her legs tighten around your head, her nails scratching at your back as you lick and suck, your tongue delving into her wetness. The sound of her breathing changes, becomes ragged, her body arching off the couch. She's close, so close, and you want to push her over the edge again.

Your tongue works in tandem with your fingers, slipping inside her, feeling her clench around you. The walls of her pussy pulse with each thrust, her juices coating your hand. You feel her orgasm building, the way her muscles tense, the way her breath turns into panting.

Elle's hands are in your hair, guiding you, her nails scraping at your scalp. It's a delicious kind of pain that only adds to the intensity of the moment. You can feel her getting closer, her hips jerking against your face, her moans growing louder.

You love when she grinds her hips against your mouth, when she takes her pleasure from you so unabashedly. It's a power play and you're all too happy to be the one serving her needs. Her legs tense around you, trapping you in place as she uses your mouth for her own pleasure.

Her moans become more erratic, her breathing hitches, and you know she's close. With a final, guttural cry, she comes again, her body shaking with the force of her climax. You don't stop, though, you keep licking and sucking, her pleasure your own. Your own pussy is throbbing now, begging for attention, but you ignore it, focusing solely on her.

Elle's grip on your hair loosens, and she slumps back into the couch, panting. But you're not done yet. You keep going, your tongue relentless as it laps at her clit, feeling the aftershocks of her orgasm quiver through her. She's so sensitive now, every touch sends a new ripple of pleasure through her body.

Her hands come up to cover her face, muffling the sounds she makes. You can feel her thighs quiver against your cheeks, and you know she's trying to hold back. But you won't let her. You want to hear her scream, to feel her shake with pleasure.

Your tongue doesn't stop, it keeps moving in the same pattern, the one that brought her to the brink before. You're relentless, your mouth working tirelessly as you push her towards another climax.

Elle's hips jerk upward, her hands now gripping the couch cushions. She's trying to find purchase, trying to anchor herself as the waves of pleasure threaten to overwhelm her. But you won't let her escape. Your hands hold her hips in place, keeping her open to your relentless mouth.

The familiarity of the sensation sends her spiralling, her body responding instinctively. You feel her building again, her muscles tightening around your fingers. She's so close, and you can't help but feel a sense of pride at how quickly you've brought her to this point.

With one final, hard suck, her body tenses and she cums again, her pussy contracting around your fingers, juices spilling onto your hand. You drink her in, savouring every drop, her taste like a drug you can't get enough of.

Elle's legs fall apart, and you pull away, panting, your face glistening with her arousal. You look up at her, and she's watching you with hooded eyes, her chest heaving. "Good girl," she murmurs.

You lean back on your heels, feeling the warmth of your own need between your legs. "Elle," you breathe, "I need you now."

Her eyes narrow. "You're lucky I love that talented mouth of yours," she says. "Or else I'd punish you for being so greedy."

You whine slightly, your cheeks reddening. You know she's playing with you, but the words send a thrill through your body. "Please, Elle," you beg. "I need you."

Elle gives you a look that makes your insides flutter. "Go," she says. "Get on the bed. On your knees. And wait for me."

You scurry to the bedroom, your heart racing with excitement. You crawl onto the bed, knees sinking into the soft mattress, and position yourself at the edge.

Elle's command echoes in your mind: "Wait for me." It's torture, but you obey, your hands resting on your thighs, resisting the urge to slide between your legs.

Elle walks into the bedroom, her shirt now gone, revealing a simple black bra that compliments her damp panties. Her nipples are hard points pushing against the fabric, and her skin glows from the heat of her arousal. She's a vision of desire, and you can't help but stare.

Her eyes lock onto yours, and she smirks, then crosses the room to the dresser. She opens the top drawer, and you hold your breath. Your eyes widen as she pulls out a magic wand vibrator, the sight of it making your clit throb.

Elle saunters over to the bed, dropping it onto the mattress before walking to the free-standing mirror in the corner of the room. She positions it so that it reflects the entirety of the bed, allowing you to see every inch of yourself as she takes you apart.

Her gaze meets yours in the reflection as she orders you off your knees and into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. The authority in her voice sends a shiver down your spine, and you do as you're told. She settles in behind you, her hands on your shoulders, guiding you lean against her.

Her legs tangle with yours, forcing them apart, exposing your dripping pussy to the cool air of the room. You lean back into her, feeling her warmth, her breath on your neck as she presses kisses below your ear. Her thighs are firm, keeping you open, vulnerable to whatever she has in store.

"Look," she whispers in your ear, her breath hot against your skin. "Look at how desperate you are." Her hand cups your mound, her thumb circling your clit lazily. Your eyes widen as you watch yourself in the reflection, your cheeks reddening.

Elle's fingers dip lower, teasing your wet folds. They slide through your slickness with ease, and you can't help but gasp at the sensation. She takes her time, exploring every inch of you with gentle strokes that make you squirm.

Her touch is light, maddening, as she traces your slit from bottom to top, never quite touching your clit, which is now swollen and begging for attention. You can feel her watching you in the mirror, her eyes taking in every twitch and quiver of your body.

Elle brings her wet fingers up your stomach, painting a path of your desire on your skin. You hold your breath as she reaches your chest, your heart pounding in anticipation. She circles one of your nipples, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. You arch into her touch, silently begging for more.

She picks up the magic wand vibrator from the bed. You watch in the mirror as she flicks it on to the lowest setting, the head buzzing gently. She brings it to your chest, and you jump at the sudden sensation. She smirks, then moves it down your torso, the vibrations leaving trail of tingles in it's wake.

Elle traces the toy around your navel, watching as your stomach muscles jump. She teases the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, moving closer and closer to your pussy, but never quite touching it. You can feel the tension building, the anticipation making your legs shake.

Her eyes watch carefully as she drags the vibrator up the insides of your thighs, each pass bringing it closer to where you need it most. You're panting now, your chest heaving with each shallow breath. She knows exactly what she's doing, and she's enjoying every second of it.

Elle finally holds the vibrator to your clit, and you jolt at the intense sensation. It's like lightning directly to your core, and you can't help the loud moan that escapes your lips. She presses it harder, holding you steady as your body tries to buck away from the pleasure.

You watch in the mirror as her hand works the vibrator, moving it in slow, deliberate strokes. Each pass sends a shiver through your body, your pussy clenching in response. She increases the speed, the buzzing growing louder. The vibrations travel through your entire being, setting your nerves alight.

And then she whispers "You're such a needy little slut, aren't you?". You nod, unable to form coherent words, your eyes locked on the mirror.

Her breath tickles your neck as she says, "You love it when I make you beg, don't you?" Each word dripping with lust.

You whimper, nodding, unable to form words as she continues her sweet torment. "You're such a greedy little thing," she taunts. "Always so eager for more, so desperate for my touch."

The moment your eyes slide shut, her other hand comes up to grip your cheeks harshly. "Keep your eyes open," she commands. "Or I'll stop touching you."

Your eyes fly open, and you let out a whine of protest, but you obey. In the mirror, you can see the smug look on her face, the glint of victory in her eyes. She knows she has you, that you're under her spell.

"That's what I thought," she states. "Now, let's see how much of a greedy slut you really are." She increases the speed of the vibrator, and you can't help but moan louder, your body trembling with the effort of holding still.

The vibrations are intense, and your pussy is so sensitive now, each stroke sending pleasure through your body. You're so close, so fucking close. You can feel it building, the tension coiling.

And then, with a whine, it hits you. Your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave, your body jerking and trembling from the force of it. Your eyes squeeze shut despite her command, but she doesn't stop. She keeps the vibrator pressing against your clit, making the sensation even more overwhelming.

"Eyes on the mirror," she orders, her voice firm. You force your eyes open, looking into the mirror. Your face is a mask of ecstasy, your mouth open in a silent scream. You can see your own eyes, glazed over with pleasure.

Elle cranks the vibrator up to its highest setting, and the buzzing turns into a high-pitched whine. You brace yourself for the intensity, but it's nothing compared to the pleasure that consumes you when she presses it back against your clit.

"Too much," you gasp out, your voice shaking. "Elle, it's too much." But even as you say the words, you arch into the sensation, your body begging for more. She doesn't ease up, instead, she uses her free hand to spread your folds, giving the vibrator better access.

Elle's voice is a dark chuckle in your ear. "Is it? Is it really, baby?" she mocks. "If you're going to act like a needy slut you're going to be treated like a needy slut." She emphasizes her point with a particularly hard press of the vibrator.

You can't argue with her. You can't even think straight. Your eyes are glued to the mirror, watching your pussy quiver with each pulse of the toy. It's mesmerizing, the way your body responds to her, the way you're spread open for her viewing pleasure.

All that comes out of your mouth are incoherent sounds of pleasure. Your cheeks are flushed, your eyes glazed with lust as you watch her manipulate your body. You're a moaning mess, unable to get an intelligible word out.

Elle's grip on the vibrator doesn't falter, stroking it up and down, hitting all the right spots. She's relentless, pushing you closer and closer to another peak. "Again," she whispers in your ear. "I want to see you come again."

Your body responds to her command, your pussy pulsing. You try to resist, but it's no use. The pleasure is too intense, too overwhelming. You feel your climax trigger, your muscles tightening, your breath coming in short gasps.

You feel a sharp smack on your clit. Your eyes fly open in shock and pain. In the mirror, you see Elle's hand come down again, slapping your pussy firmly. "I told you to keep your eyes open," she says, her voice stern. You hadn't even realized you closed your eyes.

The sting quickly turns to pleasure, and you bite your lip to keep from screaming. The vibrator is still pressed to your sensitive nub, the high setting making it feel like it's vibrating through your entire body. You can't help but push into it.

Elle's hand is steady, her eyes on the mirror, watching your every reaction. She's a master at reading your body, knowing exactly when you're about to break. You can feel the tension coiling again, tightening in your stomach. It's unbearable, the way she brings you to the brink and then pulls back, only to push you over again.

Then she bites down on the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. The pain is sharp, surprising, and you cry out, your body arching back into hers. It's a sensitive spot, one she knows drives you wild. The combination of pain and pleasure sends you spiralling, and you orgasm for the third time.

Your pussy clenches, your juices spilling onto the bed beneath you. The sheets are soaked, the fabric sticking to your skin. If you had the capacity for embarrassment, you'd be mortified, but right now all you can feel is the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.

"Elle, I can't take anymore," you whine, your voice high and desperate. Your body is a live wire, each touch threatening to send you over the edge again. But she doesn't relent.

"You can, and you will," she whispers in your ear, the vibrations from the wand not missing a beat. The words resonate through your core, and you feel yourself submitting to her once more. You're hers to play with, to bring to climax as many times as she desires.

The next orgasm hits like a freight train, and with it come a series of smaller ones, like aftershocks. Each one more intense than the last, making your body convulse and quiver uncontrollably. You can't believe how sensitive you are, how much she's turned you into a quivering mess of pleasure.

Elle's voice is low and seductive in your ear, "One more, baby. Make it count." Her words echo in your mind as you struggle to hold on to reality. The vibrator is a constant, unyielding presence, bringing you closer and closer to the edge with every stroke.

Your eyes lock onto hers in the mirror, and you can see the challenge in them. You want to prove to her that you can take it, that you can handle whatever she gives you. The desire to please her is stronger than any discomfort.

With a final surge of willpower, you push back into the vibrator, riding the wave of pleasure as it crashes over you again. Your scream fills the room, a mix of pleasure and pain as you come for what is possibly the 7th time.

As your body goes limp, Elle finally pulls the vibrator away, leaving your clit throbbing and your legs shaking. You collapse against her, utterly exhausted. She wraps her arms around you, her chuckles vibrating against your back.

"Good little slut," she murmurs, her breath warm on your neck. The phantom buzz of the toy lingers, making your pussy twitch. You lean into her, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. She's so strong, so in control, and you can't help but feel completely owned by her.

Elle gently helps you up the bed, arranging the pillows so that you're propped up comfortably. Your limbs feel like jelly, but her touch is firm and sure, guiding you into place. You can't help but lean into her, craving the warmth and security she offers after that intense experience.

Her eyes soften as she looks at you, a hint of concern in her expression. "Are you okay?" she asks, her voice gentle. You nod, still trying to catch your breath, and she smiles before heading to grab supplies.

Elle returns with a warm, damp cloth, which she uses to gently wipe away the sweat and arousal from your thighs and pussy. She's careful not to cause any more stimulation, and her touch is soothing, almost maternal.

As she tends to you, you can't help but stare at her in awe. The way she moves with such confidence, the way she wields pleasure and pain so masterfully, it's intoxicating. You're struck by just how deeply you feel for her, how much you trust her to give you what you need.

When she's done cleaning you up, Elle leans in and presses a soft kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, before finally capturing your lips. It's a gentle kiss, filled with affection, leaving you humming with content.

[godsfavdarling]

friends with benefits

list of chapters, also available on wattpad and Ao3, my masterlist previous chapter --- next chapter pairing: Spencer Reid x Elle Greenaway summary: There's some tension between Spencer and Elle which might get resolved. warnings: smut (blowjob, fingering) words: 4,6k a/n: we are soooo back! If yall like it I'll keep writing! I have more free time now! As always comments are very much appreciated! Thank you for reading!

Elle sat at her desk, absently flipping through case files. The steady hum of the bullpen provided a backdrop to her thoughts, which were consumed by memories of that night with Spencer. She found it increasingly difficult to focus, her mind wandering back to the feel of his lips on hers, the warmth of his hands on her waist.

She glanced up, catching sight of Spencer as he entered the room. Her heart gave a little leap at the sight of him, but it was quickly followed by a pang of disappointment. He avoided her gaze, his eyes firmly fixed on the stack of papers in his hands.

"Morning, Reid," she called out, trying to keep her tone casual.

"Morning," he replied, his voice barely above a mumble as he hurried past her desk.

Elle watched him go, a mix of frustration and sadness welling up inside her. She knew he was avoiding her, and it hurt more than she cared to admit.

Taking a deep breath, she decided she couldn't let this go on without at least trying to address it.

Later that day, when the bullpen was quieter and most of the team had left, she found her chance. Spencer was at the coffee machine, his back to her. She approached him, determined to at least start a conversation.

"Hey, Spencer," she said softly, hoping not to startle him.

He turned, a look of surprise flashing across his face. "Oh, hi Elle," he said, his tone guarded.

"Can we talk?" she asked, trying to keep her voice gentle. "I feel like we've been... distant."

Spencer hesitated, glancing around the bullpen as if searching for an escape route. The tension in his shoulders was palpable, his eyes darting nervously from desk to desk. Finally, he looked back at Elle, his voice strained. "I'm not sure now is the best time," he said.

"Why?" Elle pressed, her gaze steady and unwavering.

"I... I have a lot of paperwork left," Spencer lied, his fingers fidgeting with the stack of files in his hand.

Elle arched an eyebrow, her skepticism evident. "No, you don't."

"You don't know that," he retorted, a defensive edge creeping into his voice.

"Yes, I do. I can see it. You finished hours ago. You're doing Morgan’s paperwork," she pointed out, her tone firm and unwavering, cutting through his excuse with a clear note of frustration.

"Exactly. As I said, I still have more paperwork," he insisted, clutching at his excuse like a lifeline.

"Spencer..." Elle's voice was a mixture of frustration and concern, her eyes searching his face for any sign of the Spencer she knew - the one who was always honest, always straightforward.

"Maybe next time," he said abruptly, turning on his heel and walking away quickly. Elle watched his retreating figure, feeling a deep sigh escape her lips. She stood there for a moment, the weight of their unresolved tension pressing down on her.

The bullpen was a blur of activity around her, agents and analysts bustling about with their own tasks, but Elle felt a world apart. She returned to her desk, her mind racing with thoughts of Spencer. His avoidance was tearing at her.

Elle tried to focus on her work, but her eyes kept drifting to Spencer. She noticed the way he hunched over his desk, the way he buried himself in files and reports, anything to keep from facing her. 

Why was he avoiding her so adamantly? Did he not like the kiss? Had she misread the signs? Obviously since he left so quickly. But she was so sure. Doubts swirled in her mind, each one more troubling than the last.

As the day wore on, Elle found herself replaying their kiss in her mind. The memory was vivid - the softness of his lips, the tentative yet eager way he had responded. There had been something real in that kiss.

She knew pushing him too hard might drive him further away, but she also knew they couldn't continue like this indefinitely. 

The silence between them was deafening, and the distance only seemed to grow with each passing day. Elle resolved to give Spencer the space he needed, but she also knew she wouldn't wait forever. Something had to give.

For the next few weeks, Spencer kept his distance from her. Their work continued as usual, but Spencer carefully avoided any situations that might lead to another moment alone with her. He busied himself with case files and research, using every available distraction to keep his mind off the kiss they had shared.

His plan of avoiding her and talking about that night so far was successful. It had been weeks, and it seemed like Elle had given up, but still, sometimes he caught her staring at him like he was a wounded animal. He hated it. 

He hated that his feelings were so transparent, that his awkwardness and uncertainty were on full display. Spencer’s mind was a tumult of confusion and longing. He replayed the kiss over and over, the softness of her lips, the warmth of her touch. It had felt so right, yet the implications terrified him. He couldn’t afford to let his emotions cloud his judgment, not when their jobs demanded clear heads and professional boundaries.

It had been a few weeks since that night, and the team found themselves in the middle of a particularly challenging case. They were in a small town in Ohio, tracking a serial arsonist who had escalated to murder. 

The unsub had already claimed three victims, each one found in the charred remains of their homes, and the pressure to catch him was mounting. The team gathered in the local police station, the air thick with tension.

Hotch stood at the front of the room, outlining their strategy. "We need to divide and conquer. Morgan, you'll be with JJ interviewing witnesses. Spencer and Elle, I need you two to go through the fire department's reports and cross-reference them with the victim's backgrounds."

Spencer glanced at Elle, his expression tense, then quickly looked away. "I can manage the reports on my own," he said, his voice a little too quick, too defensive. The room went silent, everyone exchanging puzzled glances. Morgan raised an eyebrow, and JJ's lips formed a thin line of concern.

Hotch's gaze sharpened, and his voice took on a firm edge. "Reid, I assigned you and Elle to this task for a reason. You will work together."

Spencer shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of everyone's eyes on him. "Fine," he muttered, his shoulders slumping slightly in resignation. 

Elle watched him, her own heart aching at the strain between them. She knew something had to give, but right now, they had a job to do.

The rest of the team dispersed to their assignments, leaving Spencer and Elle standing together in an awkward silence. Elle took a deep breath, trying to push past the tension. "Let's get to it," she said, her voice steady but her eyes searching for any sign of the Spencer she knew.

Spencer nodded, his jaw tight. "Yeah, let's go," he replied, leading the way to the records room. As they walked, the silence between them was deafening, filled with unspoken words and unresolved emotions.

The records room was dimly lit and cluttered with stacks of old reports and files. Spencer and Elle settled at a large, cluttered table, spreading out the fire department's reports and victim backgrounds. The only sounds were the rustling of paper and the occasional scribble of a pen.

After a while, Spencer looked up from his stack of reports, his expression determined. "I can look through these myself," he said, his voice tense. "I'll be quick. It will take me..." He glanced at the pile, running his finger along the edges of the papers, calculating. "...about 1 hour and 12 minutes."

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Elle's eyes narrowed, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "Are you trying to get rid of me?" she snapped, unable to keep the anger out of her voice.

Spencer flinched at her tone but stood his ground. "No, I'm just trying to be efficient."

"Efficient?" Elle echoed, her voice rising. "What are you really doing, Spencer? This isn't about efficiency. You've been avoiding me for weeks. What's going on?"

Spencer's jaw tightened, and he avoided her gaze. "Nothing's going on, Elle. I'm just trying to do my job."

"Don't lie to me," Elle shot back, her eyes blazing. "I've known you long enough to know when you're hiding something. We need to talk about what happened."

Spencer finally looked up, his eyes filled with a mix of guilt and frustration. "There's nothing to talk about," he insisted, his voice tight.

"Bullshit," Elle shot back, her gaze unwavering.

Spencer sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging. "What do you want to talk about then?" he asked, his tone resigned.

"How about that night you ran out of my apartment?" Elle's voice softened, concern etched in her features as she searched his eyes.

"I had to leave," Spencer replied quickly, his words almost defensive.

Elle stared at him, her expression pleading. "Spencer... please," she implored softly. "You're my friend, at least that's what I thought. I'm sorry about that night. I'm sorry, okay? I clearly misread the signs. Let's just forget about it and let's be friends."

"Okay," Spencer murmured quietly, but Elle could see the hint of disappointment in his eyes.

"Why did you run away?" Elle pressed, her voice gentle but insistent.

"You said we should forget," Spencer said quietly.

"Forget that. I need to know. Why did you run away?" Elle asked, her tone insistent.

"I just... I don't want to complicate things," Spencer admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Complicate things?" Elle repeated, her voice softening slightly. "Spencer, ignoring this is what's complicating things. We need to talk about what happened. We can't keep pretending it didn't."

Spencer sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know," he said quietly, his brow furrowed in thought. "We're colleagues, Elle. Statistics show that workplace relationships can lead to complications. Studies indicate that nearly 70% of workplace romances end in dissatisfaction or even damage professional reputations. And considering our line of work, where trust and focus are critical, the risk of distraction is even higher. It's not just about us, it's about our team dynamics, our effectiveness in solving cases…"

He paused, his gaze searching Elle's face for understanding. "I'm not saying I don't care about you, Elle. It's quite the opposite. I value our friendship and working relationship immensely. I just... I worry about the implications if we were to cross that line."

Spencer's words came out in a rush, his nervous energy palpable as he struggled to articulate his concerns. He leaned back in his chair, fidgeting with a pen in his hands.

Elle looked at Spencer, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I get it. You're right. As always," she said, her tone soft with a hint of amusement.

"Not always," he added modestly.

"Yes, always. You're always right," Elle replied with a playful smile, her eyes meeting his with warmth.

The team managed to catch the unsub after a tense standoff. It was Elle who had tackled him to the ground, subduing him just as he was about to escape. The unsub put up a fierce fight, and in the struggle, Elle ended up with a black eye. The rest of the team had arrived just in time to secure the scene, but Elle's injury was the most noticeable souvenir of their confrontation.

Later that evening, as Elle sat in her hotel room, a knock sounded on her door. She opened it to find Spencer standing there, looking concerned. He held a small bag filled with painkillers and other first-aid supplies.

"Hey," he said softly, his eyes scanning her bruised face. "I brought you some things that might help with the pain."

Elle offered him a small smile. "Thanks, Spencer, but I'm fine," she replied, trying to brush off his worry.

Spencer's brow furrowed. "Elle, you need to take care of that injury. A black eye can be pretty serious. You should ice it, and take some ibuprofen to reduce the swelling. And you need to be careful not to…"

"Spencer," Elle interrupted gently, "it's okay. It's been worse before. I appreciate the concern, but I really am fine."

He hesitated, clearly wanting to say more, but then nodded. "Alright," he said reluctantly.

Elle glanced at the small bottle of whiskey on the table. "How about a drink instead?" she suggested, raising an eyebrow. "I could use one after today."

"Sure," Spencer agreed, though his uncertainty was evident. He had never been much of a drinker, but he didn't want to leave her alone, especially after the day's events.

They sat across from each other, Elle sinking into the armchair while Spencer took a seat on the sofa. She poured them each a glass of whiskey, handing one to Spencer.

"To a job well done," Elle toasted, clinking her glass against his.

Spencer smiled faintly and took a small sip, the burn of the alcohol surprising him. They sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, the tension from the day slowly ebbing away.

"How are you really feeling?" Spencer asked, breaking the silence, his eyes searching hers for any sign of discomfort.

Elle sighed, leaning back in her chair. "Honestly? Tired, sore, but... I feel good. We got him. That's what matters."

Spencer nodded, his eyes still filled with concern. "You were amazing out there today. I don't know how you do it."

Elle shrugged, taking a sip of her drink. "Just doing my job. We all are. Besides," she added with a wry smile, "I've had worse. A black eye is nothing. Today was a success."

Spencer looked down at his drink, swirling it in the glass. "I just... I worry about you, Elle."

She reached out, placing a hand on his knee. "I know you do. And I appreciate it. But I can handle myself. You don't need to worry so much."

He looked up, meeting her gaze. "I can't help it," he admitted, his voice soft. "I care about you."

Elle's expression softened, "I care about you too, Spencer. More than you know."

Her gaze drifted over him as he sat across from her, his lean frame slightly hunched, his neat hair perfectly in place. She noted the delicate features of his face and the way his furrowed brows framed his intelligent, earnest eyes. There was a gentleness to him, an almost fragile quality that belied the strength she knew he possessed. 

They sat in silence, the tension between them palpable. Spencer looked up from his drink, catching her stare, and for a moment, their eyes locked. She could see the uncertainty and curiosity mirrored in his gaze, a reflection of her own conflicted feelings.

Finally, breaking the silence that hung heavy between them, Elle asked "Did you like the kiss?", her tone gentle yet probing.

Spencer hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly. "What?" he replied, caught off guard by her directness.

"You heard me. Did you like it?" Elle pressed, her gaze steady on his.

"Um... yeah, but I don't think..." Spencer began, his words trailing off uncertainly.

"How much did you like it? A lot?" Elle persisted, leaning forward slightly, her curiosity evident.

Spencer shifted uncomfortably in his seat, meeting her gaze reluctantly. "Elle..." he started, unsure how to articulate his feelings.

"Just answer me, Reid," Elle urged softly, her voice gentle yet insistent.

"Yes," Spencer admitted quietly, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "I liked it... a lot."

"Hmm," Elle murmured thoughtfully, a small smile playing on her lips. "I liked it too. I'm glad."

Spencer chuckled nervously, a hint of embarrassment coloring his expression as he brushed a hand through his hair.

"You're a good kisser," Elle added, her tone warm and teasing.

Spencer chuckled again, his nerves evident but his smile genuine. "Thanks," he replied softly.

"You know... sometimes people can just enjoy themselves, have fun together and not worry," Elle continued, her tone turning more serious. "Don't worry about feelings and relationships."

Spencer looked at her, a mixture of confusion and concern in his eyes. "I worry about your feelings," he admitted quietly.

"You know what I mean, Reid," Elle said gently.

He sighed softly, his gaze dropping to his knees. 

"I like you. You like me. I can see how you're looking at me," Elle continued, her voice earnest. "We can still be friends and work together and... have some fun."

Spencer swallowed nervously, processing her words carefully. "I'm not sure I'm following," he confessed, his voice hesitant.

"Do you want to have sex?" Elle asked bluntly, her eyes searching for his response.

Spencer stared at her, flustered, his face turning a deep shade of red. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and his mind raced with conflicting thoughts.

"I... uh..." he stammered, looking away as he tried to collect himself. "Elle, this is... unexpected."

She leaned back slightly, giving him space while maintaining her steady gaze. "I know, Spencer. But I'm serious. We both felt something that night. We both need something right now. Why not each other?"

Spencer took a deep breath, his eyes flicking back to hers. "But... What about our friendship? Our work? What if things get complicated?"

Elle smiled softly, understanding his concerns. "We can set boundaries. We can be clear about what this is and what it isn't. We respect each other, right? We can make it work."

He hesitated, biting his lip as he considered her words. "But what if it affects how we work together? What if it changes things between us?"

"It doesn't have to," Elle replied gently. "We'll communicate. We'll be honest with each other. And if at any point either of us feels uncomfortable or wants to stop, we will. No hard feelings."

Spencer looked into her eyes, searching for any sign of doubt or insincerity. He found none. Just honesty and a shared desire. "You really want this?"

"I do," Elle said firmly. "I think we can be adults about this. And I think it could be good for us. A distraction, a way to unwind. No strings attached, just... mutual benefit."

Spencer nodded slowly, feeling a strange mix of excitement and apprehension. "Okay," he said quietly. "But we need to promise each other, if it starts to get complicated, we stop. We talk."

"Absolutely," Elle agreed. "No pressure, no expectations. Just us, taking it one step at a time."

Spencer felt a small smile tug at his lips, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Alright then. Friends with benefits."

Elle smiled back, squeezing his hand gently. "Friends with benefits."

She stood up, taking a few steps to position herself in front of Spencer, who was still sitting on the couch looking up at her. She bent down, placing her hands on the backrest of the couch, her face inches from his. Her eyes locked onto his, and Spencer felt a flutter of nerves and anticipation in his stomach.

For a moment, they just stared at each other, the room filled with a tense, expectant silence. Elle's eyes searched his, and Spencer could see the determination and warmth in her gaze. He felt his breath quicken as she slowly moved her face closer, her lips brushing lightly against his.

The initial contact was soft, almost tentative, as if testing the waters. Spencer's eyes fluttered closed, his heart pounding in his chest. Elle's lips were warm and inviting, and he responded, pressing back gently.

Their kisses were slow at first, exploring and savoring the moment. Elle's hand moved to cup the side of his face, her thumb caressing his cheek. Spencer's hands found their way to her waist, holding her gently as if she might slip away.

As the kiss deepened, a spark ignited between them. Elle's movements became more insistent, her lips parting to invite him in. 

Spencer hesitated for a brief moment before following her lead, his tongue tentatively brushing against hers. The sensation was electric, sending a shiver down his spine.

Elle's hands moved from the backrest to his shoulders, pulling him closer as she straddled his lap. Spencer's hands slid up her back, feeling the warmth of her skin through her shirt. Their kisses grew more urgent, a mix of passion and need. 

Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer. Spencer's hands roamed her back, gripping her tighter as their kiss became more intense. 

He could feel the heat of her body against his, the rhythm of her breath matching his own. Their tongues danced together, exploring and tasting, the kiss filled with a hunger that had been building for months.

Elle pulled back slightly, her forehead resting against his, both of them breathing heavily. She looked into his eyes, her expression a mix of desire and affection. "You okay?" she whispered, her voice husky.

Spencer nodded, his eyes still closed, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yeah," he breathed. "More than okay."

Elle smiled back, pressing a soft kiss to his lips once more before pulling away just enough to speak. "Good. Because I think we're just getting started."

She stood up and took his hand, urging him to stand up too. She leaned in and kissed him again, her lips soft and insistent against his. 

With a gentle pull, she led them over to her bed, sitting him down and then kneeling before him. Spencer's breath hitched, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Wait," he said, his voice trembling. 

Elle paused, looking up at him with concern. "Do you want to stop? It's okay if you do."

Spencer's face flushed, and he could feel his arousal, hard and insistent, straining against his pants. He was overwhelmed, the intensity of his emotions and the situation pressing down on him. He put his face in his hands, trying to gather his thoughts.

"Is everything okay?" Elle asked softly, her voice full of genuine concern.

He nodded, taking a deep breath. "I'm fine, it's just... I've never been with a girl before, and it feels wrong. You… doing this, and I don't even know what I'm doing."

Elle's expression softened, and she reached out to gently cup his cheek still kneeling between his legs. "It's okay, Spencer. I'll show you. We'll take it slow. Can I keep going?"

He swallowed hard, then nodded. "Yes, please."

With a reassuring smile, Elle continued. She leaned in, kissing him again, this time more gently. Her hands moved to unbutton his pants, freeing him from his constraints. 

She wrapped her fingers around his length, feeling him shudder at her touch. She began to pleasure him with her mouth, her movements slow and deliberate, ensuring he was comfortable every step of the way.

Her lips slid over him, her tongue swirling and teasing. Spencer's breath came in ragged gasps. He watched her, a mix of awe and desire in his eyes. The sight of her, head bobbing rhythmically, sent waves of pleasure coursing through him. He couldn't help but let out soft moans, his fingers gently tangling in her hair.

The sensation built up inside him, a tension coiling tighter with each of her movements. He could feel himself getting closer, his breaths coming in shorter, sharper bursts. 

“Elle, I—” he tried to warn her, but she only intensified her efforts, her eyes locking onto his.

Spencer's body tensed as the waves of pleasure crested and then crashed over him. He let out a strangled cry, his fingers clenching in her hair as he released. Elle stayed with him through it, her mouth working expertly, not missing a beat.

As the last shudders ran through him, Elle tenderly released him, her lips glistening. She swallowed, a satisfied look in her eyes, and wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand.

Spencer lay back, chest heaving, staring up at her in a mix of disbelief and gratitude.

Elle stood up, her eyes never leaving Spencer's. She reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, revealing her smooth, toned torso. Spencer's breath caught in his throat as he watched her, mesmerized. Next, she unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the floor, exposing her breasts. His eyes widened, taking in every detail, every curve.

She unbuttoned her pants, sliding them down her legs, her movements slow and deliberate. Finally, she stepped out of her underwear, standing before him completely bare. Spencer couldn't tear his gaze away. She was stunning.

With a confident grace, Elle climbed on top of him. Her eyes met his, full of reassurance and desire. She took his hand and guided it between her legs, pressing his fingers against her warmth.

"Here," she whispered, showing him how to touch her. "Just follow my lead."

Spencer's fingers hesitantly explored her, sliding through her wetness, feeling the slick heat of her arousal. Elle's soft moan spurred him on, a sound that sent a shiver down his spine. He marveled at the contrast between her assertive demeanor and the vulnerability she displayed now, her body arching into his touch.

Elle's hips began to move against his hand, her rhythm slow and sensuous, guiding him. Spencer's initial hesitation melted away, replaced by growing confidence. He studied her reactions, the way her breath hitched when his fingers brushed against a particularly sensitive spot, the way her eyes fluttered closed as she lost herself in the sensation.

His fingers found a steady rhythm, moving with increasing certainty, sliding in and out of her with gentle yet deliberate strokes. He used his thumb to circle her clit, and Elle gasped, her grip on his shoulders tightening. 

"Like that," she murmured, her voice thick with pleasure. "Keep going."

Spencer watched her intently, his heart pounding in his chest. He was captivated by the sight of her, the way her body writhed in response to his touch. He could feel the tension building within her, her muscles tensing, her breaths coming in short, ragged bursts.

Elle's movements grew more urgent, her hips grinding against his hand, seeking release. Spencer adjusted his fingers, curling them slightly to press against her G-spot, his thumb maintaining its steady rhythm on her clit. 

The effect was immediate. Elle's eyes flew open, a gasp escaping her lips as pleasure surged through her. She leaned forward, her legs spread on either side of his stomach, moaning into his ear. One of her hands tangled in his hair while the other gripped the sheets. Spencer's other hand wrapped around her, holding her close to his chest, feeling the vibrations of her moans against his skin.

"Spencer," she breathed, her voice a mix of desperation and ecstasy. "I'm close."

He could feel it too, the way her walls tightened around his fingers, the way her whole body seemed to be coiling tighter and tighter. He continued his ministrations, his focus entirely on her, determined to bring her to the peak of pleasure.

With a final, shuddering gasp, Elle's body tensed, her back arching as her orgasm washed over her. She cried out, a raw, uninhibited sound, her inner muscles spasming around his fingers. Spencer watched in awe as she came, his hand never faltering, prolonging her pleasure until she collapsed against him, spent and trembling.

Elle's breathing gradually slowed, her body relaxing as the waves of her orgasm ebbed away. She lifted her head to look at him, her eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and tenderness. 

"That was... incredible," she whispered, her voice still breathless.

Spencer smiled, a flush of pride warming his cheeks. "I'm glad," he replied softly, his fingers still resting gently against her.

[ipseitydelrey]

Could I request headcanons of Elle Greenaway and Jennifer Jareau with a fem!reader who insists they’re not drunk (when they most definitely are) XD

sounds like a funny idea, ofc you can request this !!

“i’m not drunk!” ☆ elle greenaway & jennifer jareau

ship elle greenaway x jennifer jareau x drunk!fem!reader

warnings reader is hammered lol, alcohol (ofc)

a/n took a while, so sorry about that! this is also my first polyamorous post so i’m excited about that :D

★ you’re probably at a bar with the team, celebrating a case that went by easily.

★ yeah everybody’s drinking (minus spencer and his arnold palmer), but you are HAMMERED.

★ stumbling around, slurring your speech, giggling and flushed type of drunk.

★ as such, you have to be supervised. downside is that you are probably the single worst person to look after while drunk because you are incredibly good at getting other people drunk too.

★ so penelope was originally slated to supervise you, but ten minutes after she joined you, you and her were drunkenly giggling about nothing at all.

★ the rest of the team that are present are also quick inebriated, but elle and jj didn’t drink that much tonight. so now they’re stuck with you.

★ they take the initiative and decide to take the team to their respective homes. after dropping everyone off at their houses, the only person left was you.

★ elle holds you upright the most as her and jj carry you to your front door. while elle has her arm around your waist and you arm around the back of her neck, jj fishes into your pockets for your keys. it’s definitely worrying that you don’t really react.

★ they practically drag you inside and then drag you some more to your bedroom after jj closes the door and takes off your shoes.

★ they plop you down onto your bed as you groan drunkenly. jj goes to get an aspirin and some water for when you go to sleep and wake up with a wicked hangover.

★ elle, on the other hand, tries to make sure you’re comfortable by only taking off your pants and situating you under the covers.

★ after she pulls the blanket up about halfway over you, you reach out and pull her into the bed with you, immediately wrapping your arms around her as if she were a stuffed animal.

★ jj returns with the pill and glass in hand to see you sloppily kissing elle on the cheek as she pulls away from you. jj chuckles, setting the items in her hands down onto the bedside table as elle tries to get you to calm down and sleep.

★ once you appear to be close to clocking out for the night, elle gets up from the bed but you whine in response, beckoning both of the women to join you.

★ elle sighs, but jj seems completely fine with it. they both do end up climbing under the covers next to you, holding you until you fall asleep.

★ of course, they end up staying. your bed is just so warm and they want to make sure you get your rest and you take your aspirin when you awake next.

★ luckily you have a day off, so next morning, when you wake up with a throbbing headache and the worst hangover, you find the two women still asleep on either side of you.

★ you do notice the water and aspirin on the table, but that can wait (even if your headache is telling you no).

[shinyrhinestones]

Loved in the night

Summary: Elle comforts Reader after her mother gets hospitilazed.

Pairing: Elle Greenaway X BAU!Fem!Reader.

Genre: Fluff, smut and angst.

NSFW.

Category: Oneshot

Warnings: Sickness, food, drinks. Oral (reader rec), petting, making out. Also Reader has a mum living in the US.

Also this is a draft from a long time ago. I’m not perfect at writing, and Especially not at smut, so yeah 🤷‍♀️ also this was probably written quickly so it probably feels rushed and there’s probably a bunch of grammar mistakes 🫠

———————————————————————

You’ve never really been worried about anything bad happening to your family. They didn’t live as close to you and your job, and you never really worried about their health either. Everything seemed to go well. But you never quite know what to expect. A phone call informing you about your mothers heart attack was a good way to ruin your entire day.

You got permission of your boss to leave for the day, and you rushed to the hospital. The doctor explained how it was going to be all right, and she would recover. You stayed by your mothers side for some time, even though she was unconscious. You still had some things at work to get done. Some files that hadn’t been finished up yet. And even though you were really worried about your mother, you didn’t know what to expect when your work wasn’t done. And as your mother still was unconscious, like She had been for all the time you’d been there, you figured you would hurry back to the bullpen.

You entered the bullpen walking a little slower than normally, and with a frown formed on your face. You walked over to your desk when you were questioned by a coworker. “Y/N, where have you been?” Derek asked, head tilting a little. Honestly, you really didn’t want to tell the truth. You sat down and slouched in your seat. You opened a drawer grabbing a handful of the files you needed to finish, and stuffed them in your bag. You looked up at Derek, and saw how Elle and JJ were now standing behind him aswell. “Uhm..” Was the only thing you managed to say, staring off to the side. “I..I don’t really want to talk about it” You were met with confused looks yet worried, but met with silence. Maybe because you stood up before giving them a chance to react properply, and walked over to Hotch’s office to let him know you were taking the files with you, and that you’ll finish them in time. He of course was surprised why you had returned when you had more important stuff to focus on at the moment.

“I know, Hotch, I do. But I’m so new to this whole thing I just wanna get these done and distract me from the trouble until she wakes up.” You rambled out of worry and a slight panic. “Y/N, it’s okay, go home” Hotch said in a calm yet demanding voice. You nodded and turned around leaving his office. When you walked past Elle’s desk she immediately stood up to catch up with you. “Y/N, What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” Normally Elle would’ve let the person walk away. She normally would’ve shrugged, and turned her attention back to whatever she was doing before. But this was something completely different than normal to her. You stopped walking to be able to look her in the eyes, and have a normal conversation. You looked into her brown eyes, letting them study your face. Your heart almost melted at the sight of Elle being concerned for you. As a profiler, you could notice how she actually cared about you. But you never thought more of it, than just being a good friend. Because the thought of her being interessed in you was abnormal. Elle always seemed to good for anything really. And maybe she wasn’t even into girls.

You let your eyes fall down, and you bit the inside of your cheek. Debating on if you should tell her or not. “What is it?” She asked again, knowing something was wrong. Not only did she notice your behaviour, but also how you had visited Hotch’s office twice that day. “My mother had a heart-attack” You sighed, and brushed some of your hair behind your ears. Elle’s eyes softened even more. “Are you going to the hospital?” She asked, trying to meet your eyes. “Well, I have these files to finish, but I also want to be there for my mum when she wakes up, so I might do them in the hospital.” You explained, looking all over the place. Elle nodded along to your words, and almost started to frown herself. “What if I help you with that? We can just take it slow, alright? I'm sure Hotch understands.” She tried to calm you down, as you came of as very troubled and in distress. “Right, yeah. I’m sorry” You hid your face in your hands for a moment, then looked at the dark haired woman again. “Why don’t I help you? Let me take you to the hospital, and then accompany you there. You seem like someone who could do well with some support.” She said, holding your hands and then let them go, when you agreed. She quickly made sure that everything she had to take care of was done, so she could go home already.

——-

Elle went to hospital with you, and sat with you out in the hallway when your mother had to go through some tests. She sat down next to you, and reached you a waterbottle.

“Thank you.” You mumbled and accepted the bottle. But you didn’t open it. You just fiddled with the bottle in both of your hands. Hearing the water squish and the water moving fast in motion. Elle stared at you and your playing. Her eyes were studying you and she couldn’t help but profiling you. But honestly it didn’t take a profiler to know you were sad and down. Elle’s palms were sweaty and she tried to rub it off on her jeans. Elle could be quite a private person. Not one to always accept her company outside of work.

And perhaps you should’ve noticed that as a profiler. But everything in the moment was too overwhelming for you.

Elle rested a hand on your back, trying to show her support. She didn’t really know what to say. Other than admiring you, she of course tried to find the right words to say. But Elle just ended up sighing and left it at that. You didn’t wanna admit it in the moment, but Elles hand on your back made you try really hard not to smile or blush. Luckily, when you sit next to each other in a hospital, you dont see each others faces unless forced by yourselves. Would’ve been really hard to explain why you were smiling, in this situation.

————

And again, Elle wouldn’t let you go home alone. She was the one who convinced you to go home, and get some rest. That rest in the hospital wasn’t that enjoyable. Elle knew what she was talking about.

She drove you home, and while she was sitting in the driver seat, you couldn’t help but admire her features as she was so concentrated. And worried. You saw it in her eyes. It’s always the eyes. She bit her lip as a way to hide her concern.

She walked with you up the stairs to your apartment. Elle seemed like she really didn’t want to let you be alone, cause she could sense how bad you felt. I mean obviously. But between you and Elle, you knew a lot about each other. And that was also a realization for you, when you stood by your own doorstep. Yes, Elle was private, but to you she was more open. You’ve had your fair share of long conversations.

“Elle.” You said softly, looking at her confused. “Yeah.” She looked at you a little surprised, her eyes a little wide. Her mouth slightly open. “Why did you walk up with me here?”. You asked, even though you kinda knew why. “I..Uhm. I don’t know. Do you want me to leave?” She stuttered a bit, and she wasn’t really sure of what you trying to say.

“No.” You shook your head lightly. If you were to be honest, you would tell her how much you actually wanted her to stay. How much you wanted her close. That she should show you all her care and love for just one night. If that wasn’t too much to want.

But you were shy. And you also felt like it was weird behaviour. Even though, it wasn’t weird of you for wanting her.

You welcomed Elle inside and she complimented your apartment. You smiled lightly and thanked her.

—-

After a nice dinner made by both you and Elle, you decided you wanted to sleep. But you both knew you couldn’t sleep. Even after all of the good laughter Elle gave you for the evening, it was still hard not to worry. Elle asked you if she should stay the night, and you accepted. You didn’t want to be alone.

It was good that Elle distracted you with funny storytimes and jokes, making you both laugh. She made you distracted. You layed under the covers, your legs touching now and then. And everytime, you wondered how Elle felt about it. Cause to you, it wasn’t enough. Elle took your hand, when your laughter died down. And your eyes met for a moment. Elle was bold. You knew that. Elle took risks, and sometimes you could get so angry at her for it, with the job you had.

Elle was too afraid of saying anything. She let her thumb work around your hand, as a distraction for herself. You already felt like this way more intimate for two friends and colleagues. She scooted closer, and you smiled gently at her in the dark. But Elle was so close, she saw it. “What?” She smiled herself, and her eyes shined with being intrigued. “You’re close.” You answered shortly. Her eyes changed from shining brightly, to being afraid. “Oh, I’m sorry.” She tried pulling back, but you squeezed her hand in a second, and she stopped moving.

“What?” She blurted out.

“I don’t mind.” You explained. She relaxed her tensed up muscles, and you heard her sigh of relief. “Okay.” She whispered. “Elle..” Her eyes found yours again, and she could hear your soft breathing in the dark room. The only sounds besides that were the other people in the apartment block getting ready for bed aswell. But it was faint, and perhaps only your upstairs neighbour. Or the sounds of cars passing by out on street. In a swift motion, she let her lips touch yours in a gentle quick kiss. She wanted your reaction. And the one she got, was you pulling her back down, to kiss again. More this time.

Elle let her arms wrap around you. Her left arm around your waist, while your right arm took a hold of her shoulder. She sat up just a little, by supporting herself on her right elbow. She gave you a long kiss, pulled away and then curtly kissed down your neck before her fingers sneaked under the covers. She let her hand roam across your figure, before they went under your tanktop. Elle looked at you in the silence now between you, and you gave her a slight smile.

Her hand went up to your breast, letting her hand softly and quickly slide across, and then down to your abdomen. She leaned down again, to let your lips touch again. You sighed into the kiss, like everything had been resolved. All your thoughts about Elle had been answered, and now you were just lost in the moment. Elle’s fingers snuck under the waistband of your panties, and let the tip of her finger softly settle on your clit.

You had one of your hands on Elle’s cheek, by her hair. And the other hand was around her shoulderblade. She pulled away, and you both got some air, from a heated kiss. Elles kisses were steady yet passionate. Like she kissed with all of her admiration, mixed with being certain of herself and her love.

Your head rested further into your cold pillow, as Elle rubbed her finger in gentle circles. You let out almost silent whines for everytime she rubbed. Cutting yourself off. “Are you okay?” She asked, knowing that this might be too much of a step already. “Yeah, Elle. I’m okay. I just really want you right now.” You admitted honestly. And she moved up on her knees right between your legs. “Okay.” She almost smiled, but she knew this was a moment where you needed to feel serious.

She slided down your underwear completely, and reached down. Laying herself down. She kissed where she could reach before going to one of your most sensitive places. She carefully and gently, let her tongue rest against your clit. She got less and less careful as she felt like you were getting more worked up. Her hands held onto you, of course. Your hands gripped onto the quilt, she had moved to the side, before she laid down on the madrass for you. “Mhm-“ you were a little aware of your sounds, as it was getting late and you didn’t want any complaints. She kept her soft licks, roaming around with her tongue. Her fingers carefully rested at your entrance before she let the slide in.

You let out a moan louder than you meant to. But the feeling of her was too good. She looked up but didn’t even get a look at you cause it was so dark. But she could you tensing up, and at that she let her lips suck at your clit, as your hands clenched the white quilt.

Elle could only hear her name and your soft breathing and whines. She still tried not to smile too much, as she could feel you weren’t ready to let go. She let her fingers curl inside you, and find her rhythm. One of your hands gripped her hair, and you felt it all crash down on you at once, when you felt her like that between your thighs. And with a moan cutting off the other, you felt your back arch, as your muscles got tighter. You let go off Elles hair, and let your hand rest against the bed again. Elle kept going until she felt your high wearing off. You opened your eyes, which you had barely been able to keep open. Elle sat up, after her fingers slid out again, and she sat down next to you.

She gave you a long kiss, and you sighed yet again.

However, Elle didn’t think of herself in this moment, but you wanted more of her.

[veeluvss]

No matter what

Jelle fluff and angst JJ is struggling with her ED again, Elle tries to help

JJ woke up around 6 am ready to take her morning run. She leaned over the bed and kissed her girlfriend, Elle, good morning before heading into the bathroom to get changed. She didn’t like getting changed in front of Elle anymore, although Elle was asleep, it still made her nervous. She grabbed the nearest towel and covered up the bathroom mirror before she got undressed. She avoided looking at her reflection in the glass shower door as she stripped naked. As quickly as she could, she pulled her gym gear on. She then took her morning wee, brushed her teeth and washed her face before emerging from the bathroom. Elle was sitting up in bed on her phone. 

“Good morning, pumpkin,” Elle whispered, still sleepy. 

“Morning,” JJ replied. She put her knee on the bed and leaned over, taking her lover's lips in a gentle kiss. Elle hummed into it and smiled, leaning closer to JJ as she went to pull away. JJ smiled, and kissed her girlfriend once more before pulling back. 

“Kisses,” Elle whimpered, laying back on the bed. 

“I need to go for a run before work, babe,” JJ said, smiling down at Elle. 

“But, two more,” Elle whispered. She held up two fingers and pouted, making JJ smile even more. Her girlfriend was the cutest in the morning. JJ saw a side to Elle no one ever saw and ever will see. A softer side that was gentle and kind and endearing. Everyone else saw a fierce Elle Greenaway who never wore her emotions on her sleeve and was work-orientated. JJ loved the other side of Elle, her special side.

JJ crawled back into the bed quickly, unable to resist kisses from her girlfriend. She opened her arms and Elle slid in between them and pouted her lips for a kiss.

“One,” JJ teased after their first kiss. Elle pouted and JJ giggled. She cupped Elle’s cheek and took her lips in for another sweet kiss. 

“Two,” she whispered. Elle sighed and nodded but didn’t move. Their eyes locked and they shared a special look, one secured only for lovers. Smiles were on both their faces and JJ kissed the top of Elle’s head, her nose and then her lips for the third time. 

“Three,” she said. 

“That was one more than I asked for,” Elle whispered, not complaining. 

“One for good luck,” JJ whispered. She tapped Elle’s back and Elle rolled out of her arms. JJ got out of bed and picked up her phone. 

“I’m going for a run and then I’ll be back to have a shower and get ready for work, you have to be ready by the time I’m back or I’ll trip over you again,” JJ said. 

“Yes boss,” Elle teased. JJ rolled her eyes playfully. “Be safe, baby,” Elle added as JJ reached the bedroom door. 

“I’ll be safe,” JJ smiled and headed out. 

Elle slid out of bed, climbing across to JJ’s side which was closer to the bathroom. She headed into the brightly lit room. She turned and saw the towel covering the mirror and sighed before pulling it down. JJ must have forgotten to pull it down herself, it was a sign she was getting bad again. Elle felt awful. Seeing her girl struggling so subtly was so hard for her, she often didn’t know what to do. When the girls first got together, JJ was knee-deep in a severe eating disorder. She wouldn’t eat for days and would be sick if she did eat. Elle loved her wholeheartedly no matter what she ate and that love and support helped her get better. She wasn’t cured but she was doing better. She could look at herself at least. Elle wondered if it was just a bad day. She did her morning business and jumped in the shower, wondering what to do about JJ. She knew now that JJ had left without eating. It was okay really, she’d eaten last night and kept it down it just mattered if she ate afterwards. Elle decided to make her breakfast when she got home. 

JJ returned half an hour later to the smell of porridge being cooked. 

“I made us breakfast, come sit,” Elle said as JJ came into the kitchen. JJ paused by the door, looking at the array of fruit on the table. It overwhelmed her immensely. She didn’t feel up to eating today. She hated the way she looked, she’d been putting on too much weight again, and her reflection made her sick. She knew with the run and the fruit, it wouldn’t affect her too much but the porridge bloated her and made her look fatter. She hated it. 

“JJ,” Elle said, walking around the table. JJ was in a trance, lost in her thoughts. Elle grabbed her hands and JJ stepped back, shaking her head. 

“I need to - er - I need to shower,” she mumbled and hurried off up the stairs, away from Elle and the food. Elle sighed and looked at the display on the table, maybe she’d done it wrong. She put her head in her hands and rubbed her brow, feeling overwhelmed. She loved and cared about JJ so much, she just wanted her to be healthy. Instead of the porridge and fruit, she decided to make them both protein smoothies. It gave JJ some good supplements she needed, especially after exercising. And if they both ate the same thing, JJ wouldn’t be so overwhelmed. 

After covering the mirror up again, JJ stripped off and jumped in the shower. The water was nice and cold, shocking her system back to reality after the food incident downstairs. Sometimes, it made JJ mad how hard Elle tried. Sometimes she wished she’d just back off and let her get on with her bad habits. JJ knew they weren’t healthy for her, she knew not eating was bad for her body and her brain but she had no other choice, she had to stay skinny, and pretty. She needed Elle to keep loving her. JJ was convinced Elle only loved her because she was skinny and pretty and she knew she only had friends because she wasn’t fat. She didn’t want to be fat. She couldn’t eat.

Once she was dressed, she headed downstairs to see Elle sitting at the kitchen table. 

“We have ten minutes before we have to leave, I made you a protein shake,” Elle said and pushed the bottle over towards where JJ stood. JJ shuffled from one foot to the other. She didn’t want that either. 

“There’s traffic, we need to leave now,” JJ said, picking up her bag and car keys. 

“Okay, you can take it with us then,” Elle said without missing a beat. 

“No,” JJ said. Elle shot her a look of confusion. “We might spill it in the car, it's best we leave it here.”

“JJ it has a non-spill lid. We won’t drop it at all, we’re taking them.”

“Not in my car, we’re not,” JJ said, crossing her arms. 

“Then we’ll take my car,” Elle said, picking up her keys. 

“Elle, will you just drop it?” JJ snapped. 

“JJ, you need to eat something,” Elle replied, her voice soft compared to JJ’s raised one. 

“I don’t and I won’t. I don’t want your porridge, your fruit or your stupid protein shake. I don’t need anything. Back the fuck off,” JJ said. She picked up her phone from the side and headed out the front door, slamming it shut behind her. Elle stood in the hallway, dumbfounded. It wasn’t until she heard the car driving away that she realised JJ had left. Elle sighed and put both shakes in her bag before heading to work in her car. 

As she walked through the car park, she noticed JJ sitting crying in her car alone. Knowing she couldn’t leave her girlfriend in such a state when she was so vulnerable already, she headed over to her car. Thankfully, the doors were unlocked so she slid into the passenger seat with ease. JJ didn’t look up, she didn’t need to, she knew exactly who it was. Elle reached over and unbuckled JJ’s seatbelt and guided it back to its original position. She then wrapped her arms around JJ and pulled her into her side. JJ clung to Elle’s t-shirt and sobbed heavily into it, tear patches formed. 

“You’re okay,” Elle whispered, attempting to soothe JJ. “I’ve got you now.” 

“I’m sorry for shouting at you,” JJ cried. 

“It’s okay, it’s all okay,” Elle replied. She cupped JJ’s head and stroked down her hair. 

“It makes me so mad that no one understands,” JJ said through tears. 

“I know, baby,” Elle sighed. 

“I just want to be normal.” 

“You are normal. Everyone struggles. You just struggle with food and that’s okay. We can get you better.” 

“It’s up to me, not you. I hate that you put it on yourself,” JJ whispered. 

“I only care about you, Jay,” Elle sighed. “I care about you a lot and when I see you hurting I can't help but feel like I need to help you in any way I can.”

“I just don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re never a burden to me, you’re my girlfriend, the love of my life.”

“But..” 

“No buts. I love you and I’m here for you.” JJ sat up then and wiped her face quickly. 

“Do you promise you love me no matter what?” 

“JJ, I promise I love you no matter what,” Elle said. She cupped JJ’s cheeks in her hands and leaned in to kiss her tenderly. JJ kissed back then pulled away. 

“You love me whether I’m skinny or fat?” 

Elle sighed and tilted her head to the side. “No matter what,” she whispered. “I love you. And I will always love you.” 

JJ nodded and lowered her head. She began to explain her thought process. How she wasn’t sure Elle loved her if she ate, how she didn’t want to be perceived as the fat girl in the FBI, how she didn’t want to look at herself ever because she was scared of what she’d see. Elle sat and listened. She squeezed JJ’s hand to show her support when the blonde’s breathing picked up and she suggested deep breaths where necessary. Once JJ was done, she leaned into her girlfriend and Elle took her back into her arms. 

“I’m so proud of you for talking to me,” Elle whispered. 

“Thank you,” JJ replied, sheepishly. She hid in Elle’s chest and sighed. 

“How about we look into getting you therapy again? Actually go through with it this time?” 

“Will you come with me?” 

“If that’ll help, of course I will.” 

“Okay,” JJ whispered. She sat up and checked the time on her phone. “We’re late.” 

“I know but our phones aren’t buzzing yet. I think we have time for a bit more cuddling,” Elle whispered and pulled JJ back. JJ let out a slight smile and cuddled into Elle. 

“I really love you, Elle,” JJ whispered after a few moments passed. 

“I really love you, JJ. No matter what,” she kissed the top of her head and they both parted. Elle leaned in to kiss JJ and JJ took the kiss softly. It was gentle and so full of love and care, as was their entire relationship. 

[bedfordxcx]

Her Last Confession

Prologue: A Declaration Of Secrecy

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Angelica Rossi (Partial Elle Greenaway x Angelica Rossi too)

Summary: Angelica Rossi has a past, it's hidden and she'd go to every length to keep it that way. For the past 10 years, only 3 people living in the USA have known her past, with only Angelica herself knowing the real truth to the FBI's only cold case in Italy. As she follows in her father’s footsteps, pursuing a career in the Behavioral Analysis Unit he co-founded, she discovers that her past continues to shape her life in ways she can't escape. Despite her efforts to separate herself from Angelina Giordano, the shadows of her history slowly engulf her very being. With each case she tackles, she edges closer to the truth she’s buried, risking everything she’s built to keep her secret safe.

Warnings: This chapter contains descriptions of physical abuse, drug use, and violent crime that may be distressing for some readers.

“In all secrets there is a kind of guilt, however beautiful or joyful they may be, or for what good end they may be set to serve. Secrecy means evasion, and evasion means a problem to the moral mind.” -Gilbert Parker 

“If I’m correct, this particular file hasn’t been transferred to our online database yet? Has it not?” 

“No Ma’am, it hasn’t...and that copy is the only one in existence, the other copy that was meant to be held in Imperia seemingly vanished along with the victim back in 94’” 

Section Chief Erin Strauss offered a curt nod before closing the file in front of her, leaning back in her chair slightly and letting her eyes scan the room before speaking up once again. 

“Who knows about this case?”  

Angelica inhaled sharply before responding:  

“Jason Gideon and David Rossi flew to Italy and worked the original case, some of the police force over in Imperia have limited knowledge of it, and then of course, me and you.” 

The two of them sat in an ice toned silence for a few seconds. Angelica pinching the skin of her own fingers as if she was trying to escape this dream like state, sat just a few metres away from the infamous BAU bullpen she’d spent so much time imagining herself in, they’d moved from the dingy basement room her father had spoken about in years prior, the team had grown since then, and had seemingly earnt far more respect in comparison to when the unit was founded explaining the move in locations. 

“Angelica, if you are to be a part of the BAU, we should very much like to keep that list the same... not only for your safety, but to ensure that you have completely separated yourself from these... events.” she said whilst gesturing to the file in front of her. This time, it was Angelica’s turn to offer a curt nod in return.  

Erin arose from her chair, Angelica following in pursuit, in all honesty she wasn’t moving on her own accord, it was pure nervous compulsion, she’d dedicated the last nine years of her life to getting here, her first year in America was spent adjusting to life but as soon as she’d truly learnt what her father did for work her heart had pushed her into the deep ends of her ambitions, the BAU had been calling her, taunting her and whilst she was only twenty-one ( and only three months shy of twenty-two) she’d proven herself to everyone around her. This job would be her gateway to becoming a profiler like her father, she didn’t exactly know what a ‘mental analyst’ was until her father had explained that it was basically a glorified therapist for survivors (she never liked to call them victims because she’d be admitting that she too was a victim), FBI agents who had escaped death, and could even be asked to observe interviews with criminals to try and pry more information out of them. So, she’d jumped at the offer because whilst she wanted to be a profiler more than anything, Angelica knew more than anyone that getting what you want is a waiting game.  

The two women had reached out and shook hands.  

“Welcome to the FBI, Angelica” but Angelica was too focused on the badge that was slid in front of her to process Erin’s words. 

A/N: So excited to share this one with you guys, its been on my mind for a while so sitting down to write it was really nerve wracking. P.S, Moodboard, Masterlist and the first look at Angelicas file is coming soooooon!!!

[arwenlalaith]

Shoulda, Coulda, Woulda

Ship: Elle Greenaway/Jennifer Jareau

Summary: Maybe it was a good idea, maybe it wasn't. That was something they could decide tomorrow. For tonight, there was just them and the sexual tension that had been building for months...

Word Count: 647

Author's Note: This fills the Masturbation square on my @cmkinkbingo2024 card.

It wasn’t something either of them had planned.

Borne, perhaps, of too much stress and too many nights in close proximity, one thing had turned into another and before either of them knew what was happening, they were kissing...

“Should we be doing this?” JJ asked breathlessly between kisses.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Elle said, biting her way down the column of JJ’s throat. “It’s just sex.”

“Just sex,” JJ repeated, paused to whimper as Elle’s teeth grazed a particularly sensitive spot.

Elle laughed. “You liked that, huh?” She nodded eagerly, causing her to laugh once again. “You’re a needy girl, aren’t you?” When she nodded, Elle clicked her tongue scoldingly. “Ah-ah, I want to hear you...”

“Yes,” she gasped.

“Good girl,” Elle praised and JJ quite literally keened. “Oh, I’m going to have fun with you...” she purred, grabbing JJ’s hips and pulling her down onto her thigh. “Are you wet for me, Angel?” She returned to her task of marking up JJ’s neck with teethmarks and hickies.

She whined, nodded, then bucked her hips sharply as Elle’s fingers brushed against her centre through her panties.

Humming a pleased note at finding her so wet, Elle smirked, “I’ve barely touched you and you’re already soaked... If I’d known it was going to be so easy, I would have done this a long time ago.” (JJ laughed a little, but she had no doubt that Elle was telling the truth...)

This was the first time she’d ever done anything like this – the first time she’d had no-strings-attached sex in cheap motel room paid for by the government with someone she worked with, someone she’d known all of a few months. (Maybe she’d regret it in the morning, but that was tomorrow’s problem...)

“Are you gonna be a good girl?” Elle asked, watching with amusement as she squirmed desperately. When JJ nodded eagerly, Elle chuckled. “You want me to make you cum?” She nodded a second time. “Show me how bad you want it.”

JJ didn’t need to be told twice. She straddled Elle’s thigh and began grinding down on it.

Elle chuckled. “God, you’re needy,” she scoffed, leaning back to watch her desperately chase her climax against her thigh. “Such a little slut – rutting against my thigh like a bitch in heat...”

“Yes,” she said on a gasp, “Elle, please... I need more...”

“More, huh?” she taunted. “You want more? Show me.” JJ suddenly seemed shy in the face of Elle’s dominance. “Go on...” Elle prompted again, “Show me how you want me to touch you.” She nudged JJ’s shoulder, prompting her to lie back and, when she tried to close her legs, Elle forced them back open.

JJ was extremely aware that from this position her cunt was on full display and she felt her cheeks heating up with embarrassment – she definitely hadn’t done this before: masturbating in front of anyone else...but she also really wanted to cum and if this is how she’d get Elle to touch her, she’d absolutely do as asked.

Timid at first, then growing slowly bolder, her fingers found her clit and began rubbing slow circles on it. Then, slipping her fingers down to her soaked centre, she dipped her fingers in to coat them with her juices before returning to her clit.

“I bet that feels so good, huh?” Elle simpered, “A horny little slut like you wants her clit played with?”

“Mm-hmm,” she whined, head tossing back, arching up off the bed.

“You want more?” Elle taunted, settling between her legs and blowing a cool stream of air on her overheated cunt. “You want me to touch you?”

She could feel her pussy clench at the stimulation. “I want more,” she begged, “Please please touch me... I need it! Please!”

With a chuckle, Elle finally gave her what she wanted, pushing her hands aside and diving in.

[tenpintsofsundrop]

Sundrop's Criminal Minds Masterlist

Lessons For A Genius - Capsule Series - Ongoing

Lesson One: Slick Silicone - Sub!Spencer Reid x (BAU)Dom!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Friends With Benefits. Smut. Despite being a genius, Reid still has a lot left to learn about life. (Most of those things sex related.) And he definitely wants to learn it from you. His first lesson? Well, a linguistics lesson turns into a hands-on demonstration with a very special toy. (17,200 words.)

Lesson Two: Magic Metacarpals - Sub!Spencer Reid x (BAU)Dom!Fem!Reader. (Pining) Friends With Benefits. Smut. After receiving his first lesson, Spencer is eager to learn more for you. So you teach him the next logical thing - how to pleasure you in return. (26,300 words.)

...

The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes - Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Lovers. Fake Dating. Hurt and Comfort. Set during Season 4, Episode 3. While undercover inside the Separatarian Sect, you and Spencer realize something important: you can’t live without each other. (8,200 words.)

Push and Pull - Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader

The Perfect Brat - Elle Greenaway x Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Loverboy - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Black Suit - Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader

From Your Lips - Jennifer Jareau x GN!Reader

Character Moodboards: Spencer Reid |

[blackbird-brewster]

CM Unpopular Opinions

Just a couple of weeks out from the new season, the new trailer just dropped, and people are getting hyped. For last season, I made a CME predictions post (which mostly came to pass, bc this show is so predictable) -- but this season, I'm going to post some unpopular opinions going into S17. Don't like, don't read.

WILL. Since we know Will won't be in this season, there have been speculations that JJ/Will will be getting a divorce, or that Will is going to die. I do NOT want Will to die. I hate that guy, I've never liked his character, but you know who I do love? JJ. She has already been through SO much, I do NOT want Hotch 2.0 in S17. I don't want Will to die, because that would be like ripping half of JJ's soul out of her chest and she deserves better. What I actually think will happen -- is just that Will is going back to being an off-screen partner like he was for most of the series.

JEMILY. I've already written my thoughts on Paget's Jemily hints on social media and why I think that's simply queerbaiting. There's no way Jemily is going to be canon, and I am HAPPY about that. I don't want Jemily to be canon!! Look at how this show treats canon relationships!! How many female romantic interests have been tortured and killed???? Why would I ever want Jemily in that crossfire? Also, as a fanfic author who has been writing Jemily for the past decade -- I don't want them to become canon, because that will squander so much creative potential. Fic authors fill in the gaps and subtext of canon, that's our job, when a relationship becomes canon it really loses it's appeal. That being said, I would love to actually see Emily and JJ interacting again. S16 really ignored their decade-long friendship altogether. Shit, I would love to just see them in the same fricking scene again.

REBECCA. All I want is for Rebecca to survive this season. As mentioned above, the way this show treats romantic interests of main characters is HORRIBLE. I'm forever furious with how the show handled Tara/Rebecca's relationship last season. I know fans hated Rebecca for getting pissed at Tara, but I still don't agree. What I do hate is how as soon as Tara's queerness served it's plot point (getting the inmate to admit he's gay too) -- the show nuked Tara's relationship altogether. I seriously love Rebecca, I think she adds a lot to the show. And since we already know Rebecca is in S17, I would LOVE to see Tara/Rebecca sit down and actually talk through their issues (like real adults!). I would LOVE for them to get the happy ending they deserve.

GARCIA'S ROMANCE. For real, I do not care about any of this love triangle bullshit with Garcia between Tyler and Luke or whatever tf is happening. I seriously hated what they did to Garcia's character in S16, it felt like they completely erased the prior 15 years from her character and replaced it with the most basic hetnormative romance plot. I don't ship Garvez (nor her and Tyler), so I don't really care about that side of things. But I would LOVE to get our Garcia back. I miss her so much.

RETURNING CHARACTER RUMORS. If one of the past cast members comes back in S17 I do not want it to be MGG. CME already focused an entire season on Rossi's man-pain (literally the only reason they killed Krystal was for him to be angry 🙃). I do NOT want another season of white-male centric plot lines (even though that's clearly what's gonna happen with Voight) If anyone actually comes back to guest, I want it to either be Matt or Derek. Alternatively, I do have a crack theory that the unsub/Gold Star is actually Elle Greenaway. A trained government assassin, she became a vigilante after leaving the BAU and she's been operating for all these years without detection. Now THAT would be a good twist.

Listen, overall, I'm not looking forward to another season of Evolution. I think they're trying way too hard to turn CM into some edgy, gritty, Norwegian-type crime drama and in doing so, they've ruined some of my favourite characters irrevocably. I don't have high hopes for S17.

[berrymoos]

hiii im being plagued with regressor elle greenaway things so im delivering a messy blurb i wrote to try ridding the brain worms (it didn't work) (i'm avoid writing this essay due tmrw). time frame for this is nonexistent but i imagine it's sometime after the fisher king, it's just kind of. . .a piece. no pretty format cus again, just a spontaneous blurb

— trigger / content warning for canon-typical violence (crimes such as rape, murder, and the like are mentioned but not the direct focus) & vent regression

a lapse in her feelings, a lapse in all control. she feels all the time; whether enraged at yet another rape case; consoling to survivors of murder cases; or overjoyed upon returning to the bureau after a case successfully closed, but this—allowing her emotions to flood over her as a pebble would allow a thunderous wave to drag it down at work of all places—is unlike her. all of this is unlike her. she is unlike herself.

“elle?”

spencer’s troubled tone is meant to pull her away from her turmoil—he only wants to help, elle distantly recognizes—but. . .

“i—” elle crumples in on herself, reminiscent of a puppy cornered in a crate, arms screwed around her torso, water causing her world to blur. a hitch in her breathing. a tremble in her lip. a fuzz in her brain. her control slips through the cracks of her fingers, flowing free onto the open floor. “i– ’m sow– sorry, i don– ’t– i– i can’t—”

“–ey, hey. . .” though he’s only a blob of color and cloth, she can still make out a pale hand inching hesitantly into her space and to that, she jerks back, crashes into a desk, and down comes fluttering a stack of manilla files and stray paper. he’s not gonna hurt you, spence’s not hurting you, he won’t, he can’t—! “–llie?”

“no!” choked, strangled, thin, scared—such a wail carries no threat except for that of tears, which break free from her eyelids, run down her cheeks, and take with it the makeup meticulously applied to her face that very morning. boom-boom-boom roars her heart in her ears, protesting against her ribcage, climbing with talons up her throat until all she can truly do is sob. “no t– touch, no touch, n– n– no, no, no!”

spencer’s hand disappears into the pocket of his pants.