#fbi please stop reading here—

[reidsbookclub]

HERE WE FUCKING GOOOO

I'm Like A Lawyer With The Way I'm Always Trying To Get You Off | Part two

18+ Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader | Masterlist

Summary: D.C. law states that you can't file for divorce until you've been separated from your partner for 6 months without having sex with them... they never said you can't fuck your soon-to-be ex-husbands new girlfriend's ex-husband. (based on this post)

Warnings: divorce (i'm not an expert but i did my best research) flirting, teasing, blow jobs, almost getting caught, mentions of miscarriages, abusive relationships, past child abuse, tough childhoods, jealousy, falling in love at the worst time, mutual pining but thinking it's unrequited on the others part, bathtub sex, possessive sex, semi-public sex(bar bathroom), drunk love confessions, pretending not to hear the love confession. arguments, fighting, real love confessions

Word Count: 15.1k

He’s not there when she wakes up Sunday Morning. He left a note on her bedside table, however. 

‘Stole your spare key from the key box downstairs. Have to head into work for a case and didn’t want to wake you, and even more so I didn’t want to leave a beautiful woman like you home alone with the door unlocked. Call me if you need me, but I’ll be in Kansas until further notice.  Aaron.’ 

It makes her smile. He’s so sweet… and then she notices his ring. He took it off before he left, he placed it beside the note and when she flipped it over she read why. 

‘I don’t know where to put this, I don’t want to wear it and I don’t have anywhere to keep it safe. Can you watch it? Put it wherever you’re going to be keeping your own until we can figure out what to do with them?’

The best place for them would be in the jewelry box that ended it all. She picks up his ring and opens the third drawer which is mostly empty. She places his ring in there and slips her own off of her finger. Turning the ring over a few times, she sighs. This is the end of a chapter… maybe even the end of a whole book. 

She spends Sunday alone without that awful feeling hanging around her. She goes to the store, buys some moving boxes and bubble wrap, and puts James’ things in them. She cleans out the spare bedroom, does some laundry, orders food, and listens to her music as loud as she wants. 

It’s wonderful.

She has a response from her lawyer that she got only a few minutes after she sent the video last night. “It’s the perfect evidence,” Cynthia praises. She’s going to draw up the divorce papers and get everything ready for her to file in 6 months. Because that’s the law. You have to wait 6 months after the last time you have sex with your partner to officially file for divorce. And James fucked her just two weeks ago. It was after a long dry spell, both of them had wine with dinner and he was home the whole weekend with her… mainly because that was a weekend Haley went down to visit her parents with Jack. 

Her marriage was officially ending. However, the world doesn’t feel like it’s on fire as much as it did last week. She doesn’t even feel like she’s standing in rubble left in the fire's wake… she’s just surrounded by construction equipment in the vacant lot that is her future. 

She could build whatever she wants here. The future is in her hands, what she chooses to do with it is up to her this time. Not her parents, not her husband. Her. 

So she’s going to start living for herself, for real this time. 

—

It’s when Haley calls her that she starts to feel that anxiety creep back into her stomach. 

She’s halfway to work the next day when her cell goes off. She doesn’t check the call log until she gets to work, sitting in the parking lot, her stomach drops into her ass when she sees her name. But she calls her back. 

“Hello?” Haley answers. 

“Hey, sorry, I was driving,” she apologizes. “Is everything okay? Is Jack okay?” 

“Yeah… yeah everything’s fine. I just thought we could talk?” 

“There isn’t really much to say, is there?” She asks, her voice calm and low still even though she wants to scream a bit. 

“There’s a lot to talk about. I just don’t know how to. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know how it happened and I didn’t know how to stop it and then I didn’t really want to…” 

She’s quiet for a moment. While she could snap, she could accuse her of ruining two perfectly fine marriages but that would be a lie. They were going to end eventually anyway. “It’s okay.” 

“No, hon, it’s not.”

Hon.

 She hated that. Haley had a way of comforting her in a condescending tone that stung a little deeper than any hurt she was ever complaining to her about. Like she either didn’t believe that it was a big enough deal to complain about it or she was so wrapped up in her own world that she couldn’t care less about anything that didn’t involve her.

“I was going to file for divorce anyway,” she lies. “I wasn’t happy. You knew that. And you weren’t happy either, I knew that. It’s fine. I don’t care. You can have him.” 

“No, don’t do that, don’t—” 

“Haley you literally fucked my husband because yours works too much and my husband fucked you because I won’t submit and be a good housewife. If anything, switching husbands was just the right thing for us to do,” she finally snaps. “Now if you’re done pretending to be my friend, I have work to get to. Don’t call me again.” 

She hangs up before she can hear anything else and shoves her phone back into her purse. Shaking her head, she takes the keys from the ignition and gets out. She honks twice, ensuring it’s locked and makes her way towards the courthouse with a sigh. 

How were they ever friends?  

She shakes away all the worry and the anger and her smile comes back onto her face as she enters the courtroom. She has to go through the metal detector, her purse goes in a plastic basket and she waits in line. She goes through the detector, and it beeps because of her necklace and belt. The security guard knows her well so he approaches her with the detector wand and a smile. 

“How are you today?” He asks. 

“Good, Mason. How are you?” She smiles back. 

“Pretty good,” he says, waving her down. “You’re all good here, have fun in there.” 

She laughs as she grabs her purse, “oh, you know I won’t.” He laughs too. “Are you working till the end of shift?” 

“Nah, I’m only on half the day today, Kyle will be on later to let you out,” he explains. 

“Well, have a good rest of your day then, Mason!” She gives him a little wave, walking backwards for a moment before she heads to the elevators. 

She’s still smiling ear to ear as she reaches them and Andrea comes around the corner. “What’s got you so happy on a Monday?” 

“Hm?” She can’t help but smile, lips pressed together, trying so hard not to laugh. “Oh, nothing.” 

“You’re giddy…” she looks her up and down as the elevator dings and opens. They let everyone out and then get in together. Andrea hits floor 2 and turns to her. “Didn’t everything with James go down this weekend?” 

She nods, “Yeah, I kicked him out.” 

“Still doesn’t explain why you’re literally glowing,” she can’t help but laugh out of pure shock. “Holy shit… you didn’t go home with someone else did you?” 

“Nope,” she shakes her head, smirking, she can’t hold it in. “He came right to my house.” 

Her jaw drops, “oh my god? I mean, good for you. You didn’t seem like the type to pay for sex but—

She laughs, reaches out and touches her friend's shoulder, “No, no, Jesus… but, I mean, if he ever did leave the FBI to work the corner, I’d be his best customer.” 

“You didn’t?!” She can’t believe it. 

She’s so happy she could literally scream, but the elevator steadies and opens with another ding and they have to get out. She wraps her arm under her friends, linked at the elbow now, and she leans in closer as they walk, “Oh, but I did.” 

“And?” She wants all the details. “I need to know more, you can’t just say you slept with the sexiest man any of us has ever worked with and not share the details?” 

She’s smiling so hard her cheeks hurt, she shakes her head and shrugs, not even knowing where to start. “Uh…” She brings her voice down, “Well… Seven. That’s all I’m going to say.” 

“Seven!” Andrea shouts, getting weird looks from the people in the hallway and she swats her slightly. “Sorry, but holy shit?” 

“I know!” She whisper shouts, dragging her into Andrea’s office. “Seriously, he came over to see if I was okay Saturday night, after everything went down, and we had some wine and talked and let all he feelings out. And then I was scared to sleep in my bed again because it felt so tainted and he offered to help me change the sheets and I, a little drunk, said that sleeping in there would be easier if we fucked in that bed too. You know, even the score? And him being a profiler he knew exactly how terrible James was in bed and made up for it…” 

“Wow,” Andrea can’t believe it. “You lucky duck, over her playing wife swap with the sexiest FBI agent at Quantico.” 

Everyone in the office had a crush on Aaron Hotchner when he was a prosecutor, the women and the men. He was powerful, he knew what he was doing, he was captivating and brilliant and so very easy on the eyes. Everyone hit on him, either as a fun and flirty way of dealing with the day or because they genuinely thought they could get him even while he was married. Haley hated that, she would come in to give him lunch and kiss him in front of everyone to assert her dominance and make sure they knew he was taken. It might be why Haley only became friends with her. She wasn’t threatened by her. She didn’t think it was possible for Y/N to take Aaron away from her. 

But Aaron isn’t at all like his soon-to-be ex-wife. He isn’t a cheater. He isn’t a gossip. He isn’t vindictive or cruel or jealous. He is kindhearted, he is respectful, he is a lover and a protector and a genuinely good person. 

And now that he’s single, she has the chance to show him what it’s like to have a good woman care for him. 

—

Hotch is whistling while sorting through papers, alone in the conference room of this random police station in Kansas. Happier than he’s been in a while, he’s just breezing through this case with new ideas and a chipper attitude that has the team a little freaked. 

“Okay, man,” Derek enters the room, closing the door behind himself. “What’s going on?” 

“What do you mean?” He asks, pretending he doesn’t know. 

“The smiling, the whistling, the chipper mood… You and Haley finally work things out?” He asks, cautiously. Everyone knew that things weren’t good at home, he hadn’t been okay since his suspension. Either sleeping at the office or in his guest room at home, he was on the brink of divorce and they all knew it. 

His good mood fades and he lets out a sigh, looking down at his paperwork, he doesn’t know how to say it. “I’m sure Penelope told you.” 

“That you got a weird email claiming your wife was cheating on you, yeah,” he shrugs. “But it wasn’t really her, was it?” 

“She’s been sleeping with her best friend's husband for a year now,” he shares, watching Derek's face drop. 

“Oh, man,” he takes a seat beside him. “Are you okay?” 

He nods, “Yeah… we’re getting divorced for real. It’s not just a separation anymore. And I sort of… made things even between us.” 

Derek's brow goes up, “seriously?” 

He nods, smile returning, “I slept with her boyfriend's wife.” 

Derek can’t help but laugh, amazed that Hotch had it in him. “well hallelujah, finally you’ve got something good going on in your life.” 

“And I need to finish this case so I can go to my lawyers and draw up some papers and see what comes of this good thing,” he explains, letting Derek in. “She’s not just revenge… this isn’t just getting back at the people who hurt us. There was something special there, something I haven’t felt since I was a teenager. A spark.”

“In this profession, it’s really hard to think that things happen for a reason. Why do people die such terrible deaths? Why do people do such evil things? It’s sometimes easier to think that there’s a plan for everyone, made by god or fate or whoever brings you peace at night when you close your eyes. After what you guys went through together…  if she makes you happy, there’s definitely a reason why she’s in your life,” Derek assures him. 

“I really hope you’re right.” 

—

She has an appointment with her Lawyer, after work on Wednesday. She arrives at the office to see a familiar face in the waiting room. She lets the receptionist know who she’s there for and takes a seat right beside Aaron, who’s been smiling at her since she walked in. 

“Hello, there,” he keeps his voice low. “How are you doing?”

She crosses her legs towards him and leans on the armrest closest to him. “I’m good, how are you?” 

“Better,” he looks at her lips and then back to her eyes. “I’m glad you’re here, I was going to ask Amelia— my lawyer if she could request your evidence from Cynthia.”

“I didn’t know you actually had a lawyer here, I asked Andrea— you remember Andrea right?” She asks and he nods. “I asked her and some of the others if they knew where you were going for your divorce and they had no idea you were even separated, but Andrea’s brother is married to Cynthia so that’s why I’m with her.” 

“Everyone here is really good,” Aaron assures her. “We’re probably going to serve Haley on Friday.” 

“Good,” she lets out a huff air, slightly laughing and shaking her head. “They’re going to be so pissed when they find out we’ve been working together on this.” 

“Yeah, but I mean, they started it. They ruined everything,” Aaron shrugs, genuinely not caring how they’re going to react. “They’ve already done the worst thing they could do to us.” 

Amelia comes out to grab Aaron first and he stands, “Can we possibly do our meetings together?” 

“If you’re both okay with knowing the details of each other's divorce, I don’t see why now?” She shrugs.

“I don’t mind,” Aaron shares, turning to her. 

“I’m good with it,” she smiles, standing with Aaron now. 

“Okay, you two can go into the big meeting room down the hall and I’ll go grab Cynthia,” she says, opening the door for them. 

Aaron leads her down the hallway, opens the meeting room door for her and lets her pick her chair before he sits beside her. “Have you guys written everything up already?” She asks Aaron. 

He nods, “mostly.” 

“And you said you have a prenup?” 

“Technically it’s a postnup,” he shares. “When I came back from Scotland Yard, after the separation and the few people she claims to have slept with, I knew that I wanted a postnuptial agreement. I was making more money, she wanted to start trying for a baby, I was having a hard time trusting her already and so we made an agreement and signed it here with Amelia… and I really thought that by signing it she was agreeing she’d never break it.” 

“So what does the cheating void in her contract now?” She asks, curiously. 

“We went into the agreement with things that we wanted in the case of a divorce, if no infidelity occurred she would get half my assets and alimony. We agreed to a 50/50 split of any future children and regardless of the fidelity, she would always keep the house if we had children. I wanted them to be taken care of regardless of what happened,” he shares. “So that’s what’s in the complaint and if she signed it we will go through with an uncontested divorce. The only difference is that we will share Jack in an 80/20 split, I get weekends and 2 weeks in the summer. Every birthday and Christmas we get half a day each and we go back and forth on Halloween. She can have easter and Thanksgiving, seeing as she has the family who’d want to see him and I don’t.” 

“Mine's not going to be that easy,” she looks down at the table and sighs. “we had sex 3 weeks ago, we need to have been separated for 6 months before we can file.” 

“Ah,” he understands what that’s like. “myself and Haley have lived in the same house, just we haven’t had sex for over a year… and with me always travelling and being in hotels all the time I have a timeline of events and she’ll attest that we haven’t had sex since last September. So I can file this week.” 

“And have you found a place to stay now that you’re not living with her?” 

He nods, “I’m at a hotel right now, I’ve put in a few applications for apartments around the city and I’m just waiting to hear.” 

“I cleaned out my guest room if you wanted to come to stay with me until then?” She asks, really hoping he doesn’t let her down too hard. 

“Really, you wouldn’t mind?” 

She shakes her head, trying not to get too excited, “No, it would be nice. And even when you get your apartment, you can still come over with Jack and he can use my backyard to play?” 

“That would be amazing,” he places his hand on her shoulder and smiles, just as their lawyers walk in. 

—

The meeting goes well, they go over the little details and she signs over access to the evidence that she collected and she listens as they plan how Haley will get served on Friday.

Afterwards, Aaron walks with her to her car and leans against it, “did you really clean out the spare room already?” 

She nods, “I did it on Sunday after you left… you don’t have to use it, but it’s there if you want to save some money?” 

“and James isn’t going to get mad that I’m in his house? If I remember correctly, his parents bought the place for you guys?” he asks. 

She nods, “Technically they own it, but I moved in right after I graduated so I’ve been there for long enough and paid enough for the upkeep that it’s mine too.” 

“Graduated as in college?” 

“High school,” she clarifies. “I was 18, he was 21. We got married 3 years later. I befriended you guys a few months after the wedding.” 

“I didn’t realize you were that young?” 

“I’m only 3 years younger than you guys,” she reminds him. “I’m not a baby.” 

“I always forget how young we all were,” he shakes his head. “Have I really known you for 11 years?” 

She nods, “Yeah, you have… it’s wild to think we were only friends like 6 months before you switched careers.” 

“I know,” he lets out a sigh. “That feels like more than 10 years ago… more like 20.” 

“At least the FBI isn’t aging you like a presidency would,” she teases him. “They look ancient after 8 years.” 

“It’ll be interesting to see what happens to Obama if he wins,” he smirks. “Do you want to go get dinner, we can keep talking in this parking lot but that would get weird.” 

She laughs, “Yeah, I’d love to.” 

—

Dinner is them flirting for an hour and then they have to drive home separately. He stops by his hotel to grab his things and check out and then he meets her at home, where she’s fresh out of the shower and in a cute little outfit and he’s all over her. 

Bags dropped just beside the locked door, their clothes scattered all over the steps and those beautiful noises she made a few nights ago have returned. 

He praises her, he gets her off again and again and then he worries about himself. Even after, he’s cleaning her up, cuddling with her, getting her a drink and laying in bed with her having a chat until she’s ready for another round. She hasn’t had this much sex since she was 19… and even then, it was nothing like this. She’d be lucky to get off once in the 3 times they had sex. 

Now, she’s laying on him after riding him to her 5th orgasm of the night and he’s still inside of her. With her head on his shoulder, her forehead rests against his jaw and her nose is on his pulse point. He’s tracing his fingers over her back, down her sides and then back up to where her protruding side boobs are. It makes her shiver, she’s a little ticklish but she doesn’t mind because this feels too good. 

“You cold?” He asks. 

She shakes her head, “No, I���m okay.” 

“Cause we can get a blanket?” 

“No, no I like this. I don’t want to move,” she whispers, holding him tighter. She wraps her arms under him. “Unless you—

“No, I’m good,” he’s quick to calm her worries. “I like this. I feel so calm with you on me.” 

“Like a weighted blanket,” she teases. 

He soothes his hand over her back and turns his head to kiss her forehead gently. “Sexiest blanket I’ve ever had.” 

She laughs and then presses a kiss to his neck, never wanting it to end. 

— 2 months separated — 

It’s like this every night that he’s in her home. 

From then on, they have dinner together, they fuck, they sleep side by side and they smile. They laugh. They share secrets and facts and they watch each other's favourite movie, she shows him more music and he actually gets her to listen to the white album in full. He cleans, he does the laundry and she comes home from work on days when he’s had a mandatory 24 hours off, to a spotless house and a meal on the table. 

It’s incredible. 

Jack comes over for a few hours on Saturdays before the divorce is finalized and he moves to full weekends with his dad. But they get him for the night on Jack's birthday in November, they have cake and presents and they show Jack that he has a room of his own at his Aunty’s house. He loves it, he has a bunkbed and superhero sheets and a bunch of new toys and new clothes so that he doesn’t have to bring stuff back and forth. 

Aaron’s “room” gets moved to the basement, once James comes to move all his shit out of this house and into Haleys. Aaron is able to move the queen bed from the guest room to the basement, he has a dresser down there and he builds himself a makeshift office in one corner so when he has to do some work at night he has the space. But he doesn’t always sleep down there, he sleeps in her bed most nights that he’s home or he sleeps on the bottom bunk in Jack's room. He’s a good dad, he doesn’t want him to wake up sad or confused as to where he is. 

She feels as though she’s officially swapped husbands with her best friend and yet neither of them are even officially divorced yet… 

Aaron has his hearing on November 23rd, the judge signs his divorce and a month later it’s official. 

He’s a single man right around Christmas. So is his wife… the only difference between them is that she is proudly saying James is her boyfriend at all her Christmas parties and no one knows that Aaron is sleeping with someone. They know he’s living with her, they think he has a room at her house and that they’re friends who are going through the same thing so of course they’d support each other…. 

Only supporting each other really means having amazing sex. 

Be it in her bed, Aaron’s room downstairs, the shower, on the stairs when he gets home, in the kitchen before work… they were fucking everywhere. She’s had more orgasms than she can count in the last 9 weeks. 

— 3 months separated — 

This time, they’re going to do it in the armchair in her living room having a quiet January night in front of the fireplace. He looked so good sitting there that she couldn’t help but crawl over and kneel between his legs. She rubs his thigh, looking up at him, hoping he’d let her go down on him while he just keeps sitting there, reading his book with that sexy, concentrating look of his. 

He looks down at her with a smirk, “What are you doing?” 

“Nothing, go back to your book,” she teases. 

She gets his pants undone, he helps her tug them down a bit and then she palms over his underwear to try and get him hard, which isn’t difficult in the slightest. She kisses him through the fabric and nuzzles her face against him. He makes her feel feral. The way he smells, his touch, how warm he always is… she would get lost in him for hours if she could. She just wants to sit down here with her hands on his delicious thighs and his cock in her mouth for as long as humanly possible. All night long and then she’ll go to work with him and live under his desk while he does his paperwork. 

She slowly pulls his briefs down, the elastic wanting to spring back up to where it belongs so she holds it with one hand while the other rakes through his pubic hair. She traces over his skin, and under his shirt, she feels his tummy. The coarse hair of his treasure trail only excites her more. She pulls his boxers down and rests the elastic waistband under his balls to keep it secure. His cock stands tall, resting against his stomach, she kisses him right at the base and all the way up his shaft. 

He holds his book with one hand, other hand comes down to pet her hair. She hums at the feeling, kissing back down his cock again, she grips him and starts to stroke him and pay attention to his balls. In all their sex-capades, she’s never had the chance to fully go down on him. She wants to see what he likes, she wants to show him what it’s like to come undone by someone's mouth. She wants to repay the favour…

She’s just about to take him in her mouth when they get a knock at the door and then they hear it start to open with the call of her name. She’s quick to her feet, blocking Aaron’s body in the chair while he gets his cock back in his pants. Shame all over their faces, they’re so nervous they’re finally going to get caught. 

“James?” She calls out, knowing he’s the only other person with a key. 

“Hey,” he whispers as he rounds the corner into the living room. Jack, asleep and slung over his shoulder, “I’m so sorry to do this but can you watch Jack tonight?” 

“Yeah, absolutely,” she reaches out for him. He’s 3 now, bigger than he’s ever been and heavy as hell while he’s sound asleep. “What’s wrong?” 

“Haley’s… she uh… we… um—” he doesn’t know how to say it. There’s a panic in his face that she knows isn’t good. “She’s miscarrying, it’s kinda bad.” 

Aarons is right there, standing behind her now, “is she okay?” 

He shrugs, moving back to the doorway with them anxiously in tow, “Not sure, we’ve gotta get her to the hospital but I can call with updates later?” 

“Yeah, go,” she shoves him out the door and shuts it behind him. She lets out a sigh, holds Jack a little closer and snuggles her head against his. “Oh my god?” 

“Here,” Aaron reaches out for him. “I’ll put him in his room.” 

“Okay,” she hands him over easily. 

He’s in his pjs under his coat and he has his boots on. It’s only a little after 8 so he hasn’t been asleep for long. They get him out of his outdoor clothes and tuck him into his bed on the top bunk. He wakes up just a bit, asks where he is and then goes back to sleep easily with a kiss on the head and the promise they’ll see him in the morning. 

And then they’re alone in the living room again. 

“That was— 

“Awkward and unfortunate,” Aaron laughs. “We almost got caught with our pants down.” 

“Not mine, just yours,” she teases, leaning into his side. She looks up at him and sighs, “You okay?” 

He nods, “yeah… I mean… I don’t know?” 

“They’re moving so fast,” she can’t believe it. 

“Well, yeah, she’s almost 35. She had a hard enough time getting pregnant before, she’s not going to waste any more time when they both want kids,” he rationalizes it. 

“But still, the divorce just went through and that’s on your end, ours hasn’t even started yet? They’re going to be super pregnant by the time it’s all over,” she can’t believe it. 

“She wanted us to try again last year,” he shares, shaking his head like he can’t believe it. “I had this awful case, my co-worker had been arrested and he told us some pretty serious, pretty awful things that happened to him before we arrested a man he knew growing up for murder… and I came home and all I wanted to do was cry and look at my son and know he’s safe and he’d never have to go through that but she wanted to try again. I wasn’t able to do anything, I couldn’t even dream about having an erection after what we went through on that case and that’s when she started to accuse my job of ruining my life and the worst part was that I wasn’t allowed to tell her things. She never let me explain a case to her, she didn’t want to hear about the awful things I saw and she didn’t understand how it could affect me so much and I still wanted to go back. But I have to do this. I have to save little babies like my Jack from having these things happen and get justice for the little Derek’s of the world.” 

“I’m so sorry, Aaron,” she doesn’t know what else to say. 

“That was just after Jack's first birthday. We finally tried again the month after, but it didn’t work, she suggested we do IVF last October and I missed the first appointment and she never touched me again after that,” he looked down at his hands in his lap and twiddled his thumbs. “She didn’t even bring it up again until I was suspended. She said that it would be easier for us to conceive if I was home more… but she was already cheating on me. Part of me wonders how long this last pregnancy has been going on for because was she just asking to cover up being pregnant with his baby or was she actually going to stop it to try with me?”

“Honestly, I wonder that too. Jack was almost 2 when James and Haley started hanging out more, that’s when he stopped pestering me as much,” she shares. “It was so nice to not be bothered every day about how much I work and how long I’d still be on birth control and when I’d do his laundry… he was so much nicer to me with her." 

“I still don’t understand why you stayed so long?” He looks at her so confused. “You were so unhappy for so long?” 

“Because where was I going to go? I cut off contact with my family after high school cause they were awful and my only friend for the longest part of my life was my husband and then the one friend I thought I had kept telling me I was so lucky with James. She heard me complain about the pressure he put on me and thought ‘Wow that sounds like the best life let me take that husband for myself!’” She jokes because it’s the only way she won’t cry. “So I had no couch to sleep on if I left, no friends to support me, I’d have to find a way to pay for a new apartment and a divorce and you know it’s not cheap. I’m only able to stay afloat right now because Andrea got me a friends and family discount with her sister-in-law and you’re giving me rent money.” 

He nods along, understanding just how hard it is to leave someone. He’s seen this at work, he knows abusive relationships— even the ones that aren’t physically abusive, are still hard to leave. You can’t just wake up one day and go, it has to come with a plan or something detrimental. Like catching him cheating with her best friend. “How long have you wanted to leave him?” 

“I’m not sure,” she’s honest. Really thinking about it for the first time… “we went to Florida for the honeymoon, we were there all of 2 days when we had our first big fight about his expectations. Before that, we never fought. I’ve known him since I was 14, started dating when I was 16, he was 19… his parents liked me and took me in and I admired the way his mom was a stay-at-home mom but I never wanted to be her. I was always at their house because mine was a fucking nightmare and they knew I had troubles and I had said before I won’t have kids until I’m super stable… When they bought him a house after his college courses ended and he said I could move in after graduation I jumped on it because I needed an escape and we were so happy at the start. His mom helped us around the house and stocked our fridge and I was learning how to cook with her and then he dropped the bombshell on me on the honeymoon that It was time to suck it up and be a real wife.” 

“Did you not talk about this stuff before the wedding?” 

“Not really…? I mean we talked about the wedding itself and how nice it would be to belong to each other… I really wanted to be his wife. I was so tired of having my dad's last name and relying on them for money. James asked me to marry him on my 19th birthday, I was a semester and a half into college, and I only had 2 years of school, 4 semesters total. He said we could wait until I was in my field and fully employed to even start planning the wedding and then I found out that he and his mom had planned most of it and it was a month after my graduation. She did practically everything but buy my dress and write my vows.” 

“And you didn’t think that was a red flag?” 

“Oh, I thought it was insane but again, who was I going to run to? I was more afraid of being alone and broke and homeless than dealing with him every day because at least he wasn’t as bad as my dad. I felt like I had no right to run if he wasn’t beating me and maybe, just maybe… I could’ve changed him. I really thought the more I protested the more he’d settle and live with the fact I wasn’t like his mom.” 

“What happened with your parents?” 

“My dad is abusive and my mom basically has Stockholm syndrome,” she relays it quick. “If it was up to my parents I’d be a boy and a doctor but no, I was the 3rd girl and the reason my mom had a hysterectomy and there’s now zero males in the family line so… yeah, I can’t fucking stand my parents.” 

“My dad liked to get drunk and scream… he only hit my mom the 1 time— that I saw at least when I was 8 and I stepped in. I was the punching bag from then on out. It was hard on my relationships, I was afraid that I’d go out on a date or have a team practice and my dad would hurt her while I was gone. And then I met Haley the same day my dad was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer.” 

“Holy shit?” 

He just nods, “yeah. So I thought maybe, just maybe… I could join this play, I could fall in love with the prettiest girl my teenage self had ever met and he’d be too tired from his chemo to hurt my mom while I was busy. And I was right, for a while. But there’s this thing that happens to people when they’re dying, they have 1 last good day…” 

“I’ve heard about that.” 

“And he used his last good day to scream and yell at my mother while I was at Haley's house. Sean called me, he said Dad was at it again and I needed to rush home… And Haley’s dad never really liked me, I mean who would like the boy who’s trying to sleep with his daughter?” He manages to smile for a moment. “But he heard the call, he heard the panic in Sean's voice and he drove me home and he came in with me to see my dad dead in the foyer. All that yelling, all that anger, it finally killed him. And her family took me in that night. And every few nights after that, I’d go over for dinner and sleep on the couch in the living room and I felt like I had a real family who loved me when mine fell apart.” 

“God, I’m so sorry,” she can’t even imagine that. “It’s the craving for a family that got me, too. I thought I’d build my own with him and it would be fine but the longer I was with him the longer I realized I never wanted my own children to hate their father the way I hate mine. And my mom never left, my mom just turned a blind eye to the insanity that came out of his mouth and I never wanted to be that mom. I never ever want any child I have to think or know that their father is a terrible man and I was okay with it.”

“And I was so scared to end up like my father,” he whispers, so ashamed of those thoughts. “Part of me was glad when she couldn’t get pregnant, I thought I was saving my kids from what I went through… but she’s a good mom. She’s the best mom in the world.” 

“She is really wonderful,” she agrees but her heart is breaking. 

Part of the reason you shouldn’t fuck the husband of the woman who stole your own is because you can fall in love with him… and then two of the men you gave everything to only want 1 woman. The same woman. And she’s not you. 

“I uh, I’m going to go to bed,” she announces, standing up quickly. “You’re probably going to go sleep in—

“I don’t have to,” he stands up to, placing his hand on her arm. “What’s wrong, what happened there?” 

“Nothing,” she lies, shaking the jealous thoughts away. “I’m just tired.” 

“Can I still sleep beside you even if we’re not doing anything?” He asks softly, staring her down with those beautiful brown wonders, making her heartache worse. 

“Yeah,” she gives in easily. 

So he helps her lock up and turn out all the lights, he checks on Jack once more and then they head to her room. They change, he strips down to his boxers and she has just a sleep shirt on and they get under the sheets together. She lays there, staring at the ceiling and he turns to her, there’s an awkward haze that takes over the room but he doesn’t say anything. 

He simply throws his arm around her middle, snuggles into her side and goes to sleep. Leaving her with her thoughts until the wee hours of the morning when she finally drifts off too. 

— 4 months separated — 

Jack’s so used to his weekend schedule at his dad's place. He wakes up to find his dad on the bottom bunk and then a morning of snuggles before they come in to get his aunty and go have breakfast together downstairs. 

Aaron got called out of bed in the middle of the night for what sounded like a pretty serious case. He was up and out around 2 a.m., and with a kiss to her head, as she lay there half awake, she promised to spend the day with Jack for him. That meant that when he woke up around 7, all alone, he showed up in her room, beside her bed, and he shook her arm to wake her up. 

She startles awake, “Oh, gosh, Jack?” 

“Where’s daddy?” 

She sighs, “he had to go to work.” 

“Oh,” he sulks. “Home?” 

“No, no, you can stay with me today, your dad might be back tonight or tomorrow morning. Unless you want me to call your mom? Do you want to go home?” She asks, always wanting him to feel safe first and foremost. 

He lights back up, “No, I stay.” 

“Of course you can,” she smiles, sitting up more. “Wanna come up and cuddle? I know you love your morning cuddles with your dad.” 

He nods, getting her help to bring her up onto the mattress, he sneaks under the covers and snuggles into her. “You cuddle dad, too?” He asks. 

Her face heats up with a tinge of embarrassment. He has seen them snuggle before, on the couch downstairs, when he wanders downstairs a few minutes after being put to bed. In the beginning, he didn’t like his new room, so he’d do everything to stay up with them as long as possible before they could transport him up there when he was already sound asleep. He’s only ever wandered into her room to find his dad once before, he saw them all cuddled up together with her on his chest when he reached up and shook her arm, much like he did this morning. 

“Yeah, sometimes I do,” she’s honest with him. “Do Mom and James cuddle?” 

He nods, “and kiss.” 

“Gross,” she teases, tickling his side and making him laugh. 

He has no understanding of the situation, he probably barely knew that James and her were together before. They weren’t touchy-feely, he never saw them kiss, he’s just known them both since he was born. Having his parents break up is something he also couldn’t comprehend, so it’s normal in his mind now that James and his mommy kiss while dad and Aunty Y/N cuddle sometimes… and if things ever work out between them, if this is what she feels like it is… explaining to him that his stepdad and stepmom used to be married to each other is going to be a weird, incredibly awkward, conversation. 

And if things don’t work out… part of her wonders how long she’ll be his aunty. How long will he know her? Is there going to be a day he hasn’t seen her for so long that he forgets she was ever his aunty? Is she just going to be some woman in the photos of his baby book that he points to and asks about? It breaks her heart to think about it. 

She snuggles him in closer and kisses his head, “I love you, buddy,” she adds for good measure. 

“I love you,” he snuggles her right back. 

They were going to have a good day today. 

—

They’re in the middle of dinner (dino nuggets and smiley fries and a small plastic cup of orange fuzzy drink because he was a good boy today) when Aaron walks in. “Y/N?” He calls out as he puts his briefcase down. 

Jack comes running from the table towards him screaming “Daddy!!!” Only to jump into Aaron’s arms. 

He holds him close, kissing his cheek a few times, “I missed you! How was your day?” 

She smiles from the archway that separates the dining room from the main hall, it’s one hell of a sight… he was such a good dad. He made having kids look like a breeze and honestly, his kid is a breeze. He’s polite, calm and smart. He’s adorable and sweet and even at 3 and a bit, he still has his same baby smell that does make her want one of her own sometimes. 

He explains to Aaron in his toddler babble what they did that day as he walks him back over to the archway where she is. “Really?” Aaron pretends to be shocked as if she didn’t text him all day with updates. 

She nods, “We had a great day.” 

“And you’re having dinner?” He asks, peering into the dining room. “Is that… she let you have some special drink?” He asks, bouncing him just the one time to make him giggle and not upset his almost full tummy. 

He nods like a bobblehead, “Yeah!!” Lighting up with the biggest smile. 

“Wow, you really did have a great day!” He cheers, “Can you guys set me a plate? I’m going to get changed and then come back and see you, okay?” 

He hurries back to his feet and reaches out for her hand, pulling her back into the kitchen but she laughs, “One second buddy, I’ll be right there,” she lets him head in without her. 

She steps towards him, away from wandering eyes and he pulls her in quickly, pressing a kiss to her lips. “Thank you.” 

“Anytime,” she smiles. “I love that little boy you made.” 

Aaron steals one last kiss before heading downstairs to “his” room to change. He puts his gun away in his safe, puts his suit back on a hanger and hangs it on the “worn but still clean” side of his closet. He changes into some sweatpants and a long-sleeved blue shirt that he rolls up to his elbows where it’s comfortable. He takes the steps back upstairs 2 at a time just as she and Jack are placing a flower-shaped plastic plate of dinner on his place setting. 

Eating like a toddler is actually really fun, he’s so glad he managed to skip dinner with the team to come do this. They talk about the park and the movie they watched after nap time this afternoon, apparently, Shrek is his new favourite. Jack’s just happy his dad is home tonight for his bath and a book before bed, because he’s exhausted by the end of dinner. Yawning and rubbing his eyes, he’s going to be out like a light right at 8 p.m. 

Aarons got him out of the bath and into his pjs, reading to him while he lay in his bunk bed which is only a few feet off the ground. It’s not a big kid bunk bed, it’s a small, toddler one that he can’t really get hurt on and Aaron can comfortably stand beside it to tuck him in. Tonight, however, Jack doesn’t just want his dad to tuck him in.  

Aaron calls her name from the top of the stairs as she’s doing the dishes, “can you come up here for a sec?” 

She quickly drys her hands and hurries up the stairs to find Jack in bed and Aaron smiling. “He has a request.” 

“Okay?”

“He wants to know if we can all cuddle together in your bed tomorrow morning,” Aaron asks for him. 

“Oh,” she looks at him and then at Jack. “Really?” 

He nods from his spot in bed. “Today was fun.” 

“I had fun too,” she reaches over and pats his tummy. “You’re always welcome to crawl into bed with me whenever you’re here.” 

“Dad too?” 

She nods, “Yeah, if we’re having another sleepover like that last time you walked in on us sleeping, then you can join us too.” 

“Tonight?” 

“Are we having a sleepover tonight?” She looks at Aaron with a smirk. 

“I’d like that,” he smiles right back. 

“Okay, then I guess when you wake up in the morning, Dad might still be in my room, okay?” She assures Jack, “Have a good, long sleep before then, though, okay?” 

He nods, “I’m tired.” 

“I bet,” she leans in and presses a kiss to his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Goodnight, Aunt Y/N,” he smiles right back. 

“Goodnight, buddy,” Aaron leans in and gives him a kiss too. “I love you.” 

“Love you, too, Dad.” 

They leave his room together, turning off the light and closing the door for the night. In the hallway, Aaron pulls her in close, brushes her hair off her face and smiles at her. “Thank you, again for today.” 

“I’d hang out with him every day if I could,” she assures him. “Come on, I’ve gotta finish the dishes but—

“Let me,” he stops her. “You can get ready for bed, have a bath, I’ll get you some wine, just relax. I’ve got it.” 

“Are you sure?” 

He looks at her through his lashes, as if to say ‘Come on?’ Because she should know by now that he is nothing like her husband. He’s not allergic to doing the dishes, he’s not put off by folding laundry, and he’s not the kind of man to desperately need a beer in front of the TV while she worries about everything else. 

“Go relax.” It’s more of an order this time than a suggestion. 

“Okay, then I guess I’ll be in the bathroom,” she gives in with a shrug. 

“Red or White?” he asks with a smile, leaning in to steal one last kiss before he lets her go. She picks a white wine and he taps her ass with his hand as she walks away. 

Downstairs, he waits to hear the water running in her bathroom above the kitchen before pouring her wine. He finishes the dishes and drains the sink almost at the same time he hears the water turn off. He knows she’s in the bath now, hopefully, she had some bubbles or bath salts and maybe even a book or magazine to read. He pours her a glass of her favourite screw-top white wine and adds a little more than normal so she doesn’t run out before the bath water starts to run cold. 

He heads back upstairs, into the room where he notices she’s set out her new pjs and underwear on the bed for when she gets out. He knocks on the ensuite bathroom door before entering, she softly calls out that he can come in and as soon as he enters he’s hit with a wall of steam. 

“Is that the water that’s steaming up the room or you?” He teases, eyeing her up in the tub as she pulls the bubbles towards herself to hide her naked body. “Really?” 

“Yeah, really,” she mocks, reaching out for her wine. 

“You know I think you’re beautiful, right?” He questions, kneeling down beside the tub so he’s on her eye level. “I don’t just say that to get you naked, I actually mean it.”

“Yeah well, you can mean it… Doesn’t mean I have to think it, too,” she says before taking a sip. 

He fully sits on the ground now, resting his arm on the side of the tub and leaning his head against his hand. He gives her a look, one she’s seen many, many times. She knows he wants her to explain herself, he wants to get inside her mind. He wants her to tell him so he doesn’t have to profile her, but she’s sure he already has one going. 

“Being appreciated for a few months doesn’t compare to 30 years of feeling like shit,” she explains. “You should know that.” 

“You really feel this way?” He asks, wanting to know everything. “Did he make you think this? Did he ever tell you that you were nothing without him? Did he isolate you on purpose or did you not try and reach out for friends because—

“Aaron,” she reaches out for him with a soapy hand. “Hey, it’s okay. He wasn’t doing any of that, you don’t have to worry about what he’ll do to Haley. He’s always wanted her, I was just the first woman to pay attention to him and by being the person who took his virginity, he felt like he had to marry me. His parents are religious, even if he isn’t anymore, their opinion on that matters. Our marriage was one of convenience. He’s happy now.” 

“That still doesn’t make me feel better,” he pouts. “He was with you for 16 years, he’s known you for 18… and he never complimented you? He never made you feel beautiful?” 

She shakes her head, “No… but you’re helping now.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he gives her a sweet smile. “I know it shouldn’t come down to another person's opinion of you, your self-worth should come from within… but you’re so special to me. You make me so happy, I think you’re so beautiful. Everything we do together is a gift.”  

She looks like she could cry, but she nods and swallows sharply. “I know… If it wasn’t for you if I was completely alone right now dealing with all this… I would probably just slip under the water and—

“Don’t say that. I’m never leaving you,” he assures her, cutting into her thoughts and stopping them in their tracks. “Not because I feel bad for you or because I’m scared you’ll do that if I’m gone but because I’m having the best time of my life here. I thoroughly enjoy you and your company and your attention and your mind and your body and your time.” 

She takes another sip of her wine and hands it back to him as she sits up, “get in here.” 

“What?” 

“You can’t just say that and not fuck me right after,” she looks at him like it’s a no-brainer. “Come on, there’s room.” 

“Okay,” he doesn’t even think twice. 

He puts her glass down on the sink counter and pushes his sweatpants to the ground before reaching for his shirt and taking it off with his arms crossed all sexily. She just shakes her head, wondering how the fuck she got so lucky. She moves to her knees, letting him have the space he needs to get into the tub and sit down in the hot water before she straddles his hips and sits on his lap. She cups his face with her wet, bubbly hands and smiles, “You know what I think about you?” 

“Tell me?” He all but begs. 

She leans in and kisses him gently on the lips, then his cheek, “I think…” she kisses over to his ear, “you’re so unbelievably sexy.” She kisses his neck as her hands spread down his arms. “You’re kind, and smart and sweet,” she keeps praising him. “You’re a wonderful, incredible, man… my favourite man.” 

He tugs her back by her hair so that he can look into her eyes, “Say that again.” 

“You’re my favourite man,” she repeats, staring between his eyes and his lips. “In the whole world.” 

“I’m your man,” he assures her. Caressing her hair, his hand comes over to cup her cheek, he runs his thumb over her bottom lip while staring at it. 

She runs her hands down his chest, raising her hips she goes for his dick, hardening as they spoke, and she starts to pump him under the water. He melts into her touch, adoring the way she makes him feel so taken, so secure, so taken. He wants to be hers and only hers for the rest of time.

“Say it?” He whispers. 

“You’re my man,” she replies almost instantly. Feeling his cock twitch in her hand, she brings him to her cunt and slowly starts to sit down on it. 

“Oh,” he tosses his head back slightly and then snaps back to look at her right in the eyes. Foreheads touching, he pulls her flush to his body so they’re as close as possible. “I belong to you.” 

She kisses him deeply, breathing him in and it hits him. Really hits him. He’s known for a while that he has very strong feelings for her… He knows he thoroughly enjoys this life that they are building together and how being with her has made everything else in his life easier… but now he knows that he loves her. He’s in love with her.

He grips her hips helping her ride him without sending the water over the edge of the tub. Their kiss heats up as the tension builds, her hands are in his hair and he grips at her skin trying to pull her in closer. Like two atoms being fused together, they want to become one. Inside her, all around her, feelings her, loving her, it’s all so much. 

“Mine,” she all but moans against him as they come up for air. 

“Yours,” he breathes back, leaning in to kiss her cheek and jaw. 

She tosses her head back, letting him kiss along her neck. She has work tomorrow, he knows that, but he still wants to mark her. He wants to suck a deep and delicious bruise into her neck and let anyone who sees her know that she’s being taken care of… at the same time, he’d love for no one to know. Her ringless finger allows for people to hit on her and thus she would have to say the words he’d love to hear. “Sorry, I’m already spoken for.” 

He’s so tempted to tell her that he loves her like this but he knows she doesn’t feel the same way. She’s simply too nice to him. She lets him live in her house (he pays rent even though she doesn’t want his money), she loves his son like her own, she takes care of them both, she has sex with him, she makes him coffee in the morning and lets him talk about his awful cases at night when they’re eating him alive… she’s so kind to him in every aspect of life, but that doesn’t mean she loves him back. 

He’s thought about this for so long, too. If she’s even capable of loving him back… is she still hung up on her ex-husband? Was the trauma so bad she’d never try to love again? Will it just take her some time and will she still want him around by then? Because he’ll wait. He’ll do whatever it takes to hear her say the words one day. 

Till then, he takes whatever he can get in these precious, impossibly close moments where she feels like his. She can know he belongs to her, she can say it a million times, but it won’t mean much until she’s his to keep forever too. 

She pulls him back to her mouth, both of them attempting to kiss but so caught up in the feeling that they’re more so breathing against each other. She moans, and he soaks it in, closing his eyes and tilting his head back slightly. She follows him, kissing the side of his mouth and then resting her forehead against him. “Look at me,” she whispers her demand. 

He does, staring deep into her eyes, she cups his face. “Make me yours, too,” she whispers. “Take me, claim me, keep me forever.” 

He whines and as if she is reading his mind she says everything he wants to hear. Well, almost. An ‘I love you’ would’ve thrown him over the edge way too quick.

“Mine,” he says before stealing another kiss, voice deep with pure need. “Mine,” he repeats as he kisses her neck one of his hands spreads over her lower stomach and his thumb heads straight for her clit. The third time it comes straight from his gut, “mine,” he growls as his free hand spreads over her back, tugging her in even closer. 

She seems to go feral for it, making out with him in a way she never has before as her nails dig into the skin of his upper back. They’re making a bit of a mess with the water splashing but they couldn’t care less, so wrapped up in this little world where they belong to each other.

— 5 months separated— 

He doesn’t text or call much when he’s on a case. Wrapped up and busy in saving the day, she can’t really blame him. 

But suddenly she understands Haley’s feelings a little more. Falling for Aaron Hotchner meant missing him deeply. It meant craving him all the time and having to deal with the fact he loves to save the world… or at least the people in his small corner of it. He’ll never change. She doesn’t want him to. She doesn’t expect anything more from him, but that doesn’t stop her from missing him. 

However, when he does text it’s often to say he’s on his way home. Either to ask her to put on some coffee or take off her clothes and wait for him… tonight it’s the former. 

Aaron: just landed. This case was awful. We have a mandatory 24 hours off so the team is getting drinks and they won’t let me slip away without telling them what I’m really wanting to go home for. You. So I’m going to taxi home, I’ll go get my car sometime tomorrow so I can pick Jack up for my weekend time. I miss you, but don’t feel the need to wait up for me. I’ll see you soon. 

She doesn’t want him to have to do that. So she gets dressed up, she calls a cab for herself and she goes into the bar with the intention of meeting his friends and driving him home in his big SUV. She doesn’t even think about if he wants her there, how weird it’ll be to meet his friends or what she would even say to him. 

Before she could overthink it, she was there. 

He’s easy to spot. In the back corner, he and all his friends have drinks in their hands as they stand around a tall, circular table. She walks right up, places her hand on his arm and smiles. “Funny seeing you here,” she teases.

“Hey,” he puts his drink down and opens his arms, inviting her in for a hug. “What are you doing here?”

“I got your text, thought I’d drive you home instead?” She says against his shoulder just loud enough for him to hear, holding him back for a moment longer than she should’ve. But it felt nice… and she missed him.  

When she does pull away, all his friends are even more confused. Aaron notices it this time as well. “Uh, everyone this is Y/N, Y/N these are my coworkers. Derek, Spencer, Emily, Penelope and Jennifer. Dave was here but someone hit on him and then he was gone.” 

She laughs, from what she’s heard that is very Dave of him to do. “Hi, nice to meet you,” she gives the rest of them a wave and a smile and they all say their pleasantries back to her over the loud music. 

“So how do you know each other?” Emily asks. 

“Oh, uh,” she doesn’t know if she can say it, she just looks up at Aaron who looks just as stumped. So she drops the bomb on them. “Well, um… my husband— well, my soon-to-be ex-husband is Haley’s new boyfriend.” 

At the same time, all their eyes widen and jaws drop, “oh, oh damn?” Penelope is the first to speak. “You’re the one who sent the email?” 

She nods, “yeah… it’s been a weird few months.” 

“I uh, I’m going to get another drink,” Aaron announces. “Want to come—

“Yes,” she agrees right away, following him over to the bar and away from his friends. “Sorry, I didn’t know if you told them everything.” 

“Derek is the only one who knows everything, everything,” he assures her. “They know of the email and the divorce and the new boyfriend. They don’t know that I live with you now or that we’re… what we are.” 

She nods, “Yeah, I mean, that’s a little hard to explain when we haven’t even really talked about what we are.” 

“I know,” he looks at her lips and then into her eyes and then to her lips again. She doesn’t know how many drinks he’s had, but definitely a few. “God, you’re beautiful, you know that?” 

She smirks, shaking her head, “Okay, Hotchner, whatever you say.” 

“No, no I mean it. You’re so beautiful, did you get dressed up for this or is this how you’ve looked all day?” 

“I went to work like this,” she assures him. “Are you okay?” 

He nods, smile widening, “Perfect now that you’re here.” 

“Do you really need another drink?” She teases him, thinking he’s drunk. 

“No,” he steps in closer to her and wraps his arm around her waist to bring her in even closer. “I rather have a glass of you.” 

“So let me take you ho—

“Have you ever done it in a bar bathroom?” 

She just laughs, “No, what? Are you insane?” 

He laughs too, “I’ve missed you so much, I don’t want to have to go home just to show you…”

“You’re crazy,” she laughs, shaking her head with disbelief. 

“That’s not a no…” 

“You’re right,” she can’t believe him right now but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t crave him while he was gone all week. He’s so close to her, his thumb rubbing circles over her skin as he stares into her soul, not even caring if anyone sees them. “Your friends are going to know.” 

“And?” He shrugs, not caring in the slightest. “I’m their boss, they can’t bully me, I’ll just give them more paperwork.” 

She laughs again, leaning into his side she wraps her arm around him, “Lead the way.” 

This particular bar's bathrooms are small. Single-use, no specific gender required, there are 4 of them down the hallway and 2 of them are occupied already. They take the one at the very end of the hall, Aaron is quick to lock the door before she’s got him pressed up against it, kissing him right away. She missed his mouth, she missed his touch and his smell and just him. She missed him so goddamn much and she was going to show him. 

His hands search her back, down over her ass and then he gives her a good squeeze and groans. Kissing the side of her mouth, down her neck, he keeps groping her, “Love when you wear these jeans.” 

She smirks, “I know, I know, they hug my ass perfectly.” 

“Mm, boy do I wish I was a pair of jeans,” he teases before diving in for another, heated kiss.  

He starts to back her up, moving her towards the sink, he goes to help her up when she protests. “Ah, ah, nope,” she pushes him back for a moment. “I do not trust this sink.” 

“Oh come on,” he can’t believe it. “It’s sturdy it’s been here for years—

“Exactly, it’s old. That’s why I’m not sitting on it while you fuck me,” she fights back. “Both our weight is no match for this piece of plywood and some caulk.” 

“But I like your weight on my caulk,” Aaron teases. 

She swats him, shocked he’d ever say that even when slightly drunk, “You did not just—

“I did,” he cuts her off, moving in to steal another kiss. He kisses as if he’s breathing in her soul and then presses one more kiss to her lips. He kisses her cheek and her forehead, “just had to get a few more in before—“

He grips her by the shoulders and spins her around, moves her hair off her neck and starts to kiss her there. He takes a second to run his hands over her boobs and down her chest, he stops at the start of her jeans and unbuttons them. With her head lulled to the side, she softens and rests back against his shoulder.��

“Aaron,” she moans, keeping her voice down as much as possible while still cheering him on the way he said he liked. 

He gets her pants down, feeling up her thighs and around to her lower butt cheeks, truly loving how soft she is. He says it every time, he practically worships her every chance he gets. He starts to push her underwear down too, both them and her pants rest mid-way down her thighs. He bends her forward more, taking a second to massage her ass, watching in awe as her pussy lips open from the movement. She’s wet and glistening and he wants her so bad. “Fuck, you’re so sexy, baby.” 

He quickly unbuckles his belt, pops the button and throws the fly open, she pushes back against him to feel his bulge against her ass with a groan. “Hurry up.” 

He pulls himself out of his boxers and taps his hard cock against her ass, “what was that?” 

“Please, Aaron,” she begs. 

He slips inside her and his hands grip her hips, trailing forward to her stomach, one hand goes to her clit while the other stays on her stomach for balance. He kisses the side of her neck again, “honey, I’m home,” he teases, making all the hair on her body stand up. 

He considers her as home. 

She places her hand over his on her stomach and interlocks their fingers just as he starts to thrust. They’re small, light, beginner thrusts but still something. He goes to move his hand away but he brings her with him, he pushes her forward so she’s bent over the sink with one hand behind her back so he can still hold her hand. With her free hand, she rests it against the wall and catches a glimpse of him in the mirror. 

The way he looks at her like this, so full of lust and want and need, it’s enough to make her cum right then and there. But he starts to get faster, his middle finger bumps against her clit and she moans again, “fuck, Aaron.”

“Missed this. Wanted so badly to roll over in the night and fuck you, wanted to wake up with you naked beside me, missed hearing your noises and kissing you everywhere… god,” he groans. He keeps his voice low as possible but he can’t stop himself. “Missed how you taste, missed your touch, missed your voice and your laugh… you’re my girl, want everyone here to know it.”

That does it for her, she’s right there on the edge and she knows he will be too. He’s said it before, the way she pulls him in deeper when she cums is his undoing every single fucking time they’ve done this. She loves it, she wants to feel him lose control and empty himself inside her but she knows how awkward that’ll feel when they leave this tiny bathroom. 

“I can’t,” she whines, it feels too good for her sentence to come out all in one go. “Oh god, I can’t… I can’t go hang out with your friends with-with your cum dripping out of me.”

He drops her hand to grip her hair and he pulls her head back and to the side, where she feels his hot breath on her ear. “Who said we were going to go back to my friends?” 

“They’re not gonna let you leave without saying goodbye,” she reminds him. Reaching behind him to grip his side, she’s so used to holding him so tight when they fuck that she misses it. She needs a handful of him at all times. 

“So you don’t want me to claim you again?” He asks, making sure this is what she wants. “You want me to skip your favourite part?”

She whines, “no, no, I guess not.”

“That’s what I thought,” he smirks and takes a nibble at her ear. “I know you love it. You love feeling taken, and being claimed. You like being mine.” 

“I love— it. I love it!” she moans out, almost saying she loved him but she caught herself in time. 

They’re both right there, she knows she’s so close and she can tell he is too with the way his thrusts change. They’re powerful, snappy, deep and delicious. She grips him tighter, tosses her head back with one final, drawn-out moan and cums on his cock just as he says it. 

“Oh, I love you,” he growls in her ear. 

It’s barely there, he’s so caught up in his orgasm that he doesn’t even really notice that it slipped out. If he doesn’t acknowledge it, she’s not going to either. It was probably a mistake. He didn’t mean to say it, not like how she almost did. He’s drunk, he’s tired, he’s been through a lot this week… surely he didn't mean it. 

He kisses her neck again, breathing heavily against her as he comes down, “holy fuck.” He wraps his arms around her, holding her in a tight hug, he rests his chin against her shoulder with a sigh. 

Breathing like she also ran a marathon, full of both euphoria and anxiety, her stomach is a mess of butterflies and feelings. “Yeah…”

He pulls some paper towels from the dispenser and he’s quick to catch any fallout as he pulls out. Sober enough to not want to ruin her jeans but she still thinks he’s too drunk to actually mean that he loves her. 

Those words are going to haunt her until he says them again. Sober. Looking into her eyes. Really meant it with his whole heart. 

“There you go,” he coos, kissing her neck one last time. He pulls away to toss out the tissue and put himself back into his pants. 

She simply takes a moment to pee, he washes his hands but she catches him watching her through the mirror. Sometimes he gets insatiable like this, he looks at her like a meal and he’s been on death row for ages. He looks at her like he’s the hunter and she’s prey and it always makes her stomach flip. It’s so raw, so real, so intense, she never knew someone could be so attracted to her… but she still doesn’t want to believe he really said he loves her. 

Before they leave the bathroom he pulls her in close, chest to chest again, and he cups her face. “You okay?” 

She nods, “Yeah, I’m just not used to fucking you and not being able to fall right back into my bed.” 

He laughs, “I love how tired and cute you get after.” 

“And now I have to meet your friends,” she shakes her head, nervous as hell. It feels a little unbelievable to her that she is meeting them finally and this is the state she’s in while she does so. 

“They’ll love you.” 

Like you do?

“Come on,” he places his hand on her arm and leads her to the door. They leave together without a care in the world who sees and makes their way back to the table his friends were once at. 

They’re all over the room now, Spencer is talking to some man. Derek is leaning against a wall with a pretty woman standing in his personal space. Emily is leaning over another woman teaching her how to play pool and Penelope is at the bar, grabbing another drink with JJ. So that’s who they walk back up to, she watches carefully as the two women smile knowingly but invite them back into conversation. 

“Where’d you two go?” JJ asks with a teasing tone. 

“Nowhere,” Aaron shrugs, trying desperately to hold back a smile but he can’t. “We’re going to go home though, let the others know for me?” 

“Home?” 

She nods, “We live together.” 

“Like wife swap,” Penelope says and then covers her mouth as if it wasn’t supposed to come out. 

She just laughs. “Yeah, like wife swap.” 

“What’s wife swap?” Aaron asks. 

“It’s a TV show, where couples sign up to switch lives for upwards of a week so that they can see how easy they really have it. The husbands and the kids stay in their house but they exchange wives,” JJ explains. 

“So I guess technically we played husband swap and we wouldn’t have been picked for the show because we already knew each other,” Y/N teases. 

“You knew each other?” Penelope can’t believe it. Now she knows for sure Aaron doesn’t talk about this stuff at work. 

They both nod, “we worked together,” she explains. “I’m a court stenographer and I transcribed at least 50 of Aaron’s cases before he left… Haley was my best friend.” 

“Holy fuck,” JJ lets slip. Usually, she doesn’t curse, she can tell from the way Aaron’s brows go up. “Sorry, that’s just so insane to me?” 

“Tell me about it,” she scoffs. “It’s been a crazy few months but we’re doing okay.”

She looks up at Aaron who looks right back down at her. His hand still on her back, he tugs her into his side. “Better than okay.” 

“Well, uh,” JJ doesn’t even know what to say after that. There’s clearly something there that she doesn’t even know if they know is there, so she takes a deep breath and decides to let them go. “We’ll all have to get together again sometime?” 

“Yeah, I’d like that,” she gives them both a smile. “It was lovely to meet you.” 

“Can I have my keys?” Aaron asks Penelope who immediately starts to dig through her big purse. She’s the only one who carries a purse, so of course, all their things go in it when they’re out. 

“Here you go,” she hands him the red carabiner that holds all his keys. His car key, Haleys house key, a key to Y/N’s house, his office key, his mailbox and the storage unit that holds all the shit he didn’t want to bring to her place.

“Thanks,” he takes them with his free hand, still holding her hip with the other. “Call me if there’s anything urgent or I’ll see you on Monday.” 

They wave them off and head outside together. He hands her the keys to his SUV which is parked in the back lot. It’s dimly lit and even though it’s not the worst part of town, he still holds onto her like his life depends on it. When they reach the car, he opens the driver's side door for her and helps her in, he steals one last kiss and then hands her the keys. “Let's go home.” 

— 6 months separated —

6 months on the dot after she walked in on Haley and James in her bed, she served him with divorce papers. 

He signs the consent answer, and they meet once to go over their settlement agreement, and she brings the papers to the county clerk for date-stamped copies. She pays her $80 filing fee and now all she has to do is wait for the judge to give them a hearing date… and then she’s going to be free. 

James and his parents meet her at a real estate attorney’s office not long after. They discuss the deed of the house which her name isn’t on, even though she’s lived there for 13 years and agree to sign it over. With the verbal agreement from James that she could have the house, he and his parents weren’t able to ask for any money in exchange. They sign the new deed with the notary present and she once again files the deed on public record. 

Before he leaves, James pulls her aside for a moment. “Uh, I don’t have to come to the hearing, right? It’s just you?” 

She nods, “just me. The judge has everything they need and they should sign off on it that same day. It’ll take a month to go through officially, but then we’ll be free.” 

“Okay, cool,” he gives her a smile. “Thanks for making this so easy for us.” 

“As in me and you or you and her?” She asks, feeling a little twinge of pettiness. 

“All of us,” he corrects himself. He stares at her carefully, thankful as ever and it's evident on his face. “I’m sorry I couldn’t love you properly. I’m sorry for what we did… but I feel like everything happens for a reason. I had to be with you to meet her.” 

She nods, understanding that more than he’ll ever know. Because she feels the same way about Aaron. “Are you going to marry her?” 

He nods, “Yeah. It’ll be a fall wedding.” 

“You’ve already asked?” She can’t believe it. 

“We want to be married before the baby comes.” 

Her eyes widen but she says nothing. She knew this was coming but it still hurts. “She’s pregnant again?” 

“We did IVF, it’s really new but we’re hopeful this time with all the meds she’s on,” he shares as if they’re friends. As if this doesn’t hurt her feelings even more than before. 

“Oh… congratulations.” 

“Thank you,” he touches her arm with a smile. “I hope you find some happiness too.” 

“I have a boyfriend.” 

It just falls out of her. She doesn’t even know why she said it but the thing between her and Aaron felt so real, so intense… so important that she calls him her boyfriend. 

“Oh?” He’s a little shocked. “But you’re living with Aaron? Does he like the guy?” 

She nods, “Yeah, they get along well.” 

“And he doesn’t mind him around Jack?” 

She presses her lips together, shaking her head, “Nope… but I mean, he doesn’t come over on weekends unless Jack is asleep.” 

“Okay, good,” he says, relieved. Treating Jack as if he’s his own son and he has a say in the people he’s around. “Well… thanks again. Maybe we could all get together sometime?” 

“Maybe,” she lies. Knowing she’s not going to want to sit with them or see them happy or know them outside of what little she sees during Jack's pickup and drop-off. 

And then he’s gone and the house is officially hers. 

She gets the insurance switched over to herself, and she has the privilege of paying the land taxes every year now… which sucks. And she’ll get herself a home security system, but not before she changes the locks. 

She bought a whole new door handle with a deadbolt lock and it sits in the front hallway for a week before she asks for help installing it. Aaron has a vague idea of how to change it out but he’s not 100% positive, so he calls Derek. Unbeknownst to her, Derek is a house flipper. He loves to demolish shit and bring homes back to their original beauty when he’s not kicking down doors at the FBI. 

It’s a Saturday in April, so Aaron’s out back with Jack building a swing set when Derek shows up. This is only her 3rd or 4th time meeting him, she saw him at that bar a few months back and she’s had lunch with Aaron outside Quantico, but she’s never really talked to his friends. 

“So,” Derek says between taking screws out of the old door knob. “How are things going with your divorce?” 

“Good, I should have my hearing date soon and then It’ll be official,” she shares with a smile. “And I got the house, which you know because Aaron asked you to come help with this for me.” 

“I’m sure he would’ve been able to do it?” 

“Yeah but I wanted to be able to watch you do it in case I have to do it alone one day and someone had to be with Jack,” she explains. 

“Do you not think you’ll be together long?” He asks, clearly thinking they’re dating. 

“Oh, we’re not together,” she assures him. “As much as I’d love to date him, we’re not dating… at least, he’s never said the words and I don’t know if I could even ask I’m so scared he’ll say no and I really don’t know why I’m telling you this, sorry.” 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he reaches out and taps her arm, assuringly. “It’s part of my job, people feel like they can tell me things.” 

With the door open so he can work on the locks, she can see right out to the street where there’s a black pickup truck pulling up. James gets out and she sighs, “Good, god, what does he want now?” 

Derek lets her pass and she makes her way to the yard, “James?” 

“Hey, sorry to just show up,” he apologizes. “I wanted to give you back the keys we had… is that him?” 

“What?” She looks back at Derek. “Oh, no, that’s Aaron's co-worker. He’s a house flipper, he’s helping me change the locks.” 

Then, from the backyard, she hears running. “Uncle Jamie!!” Jack's little voice is heard and James drops down to his knees to pick him up. 

“Hey, little man!” 

Aarons right behind him, “We thought we heard a truck pull up…” 

“Yeah, sorry, I’m just bringing back my keys. Thought I’d get a glimpse of her new boyfriend,” he teases. 

“Not the boyfriend!” Derek calls from the doorway. 

“Yeah, no she’s not dating anyone?” Aaron says, mildly jealous. 

“But you said—

“I did,” she presses her lips together with a burst of air from her nose. “It’s complicated.” 

“We just don’t want James around a strange man,” James says, which really pisses Aaron off. 

“Well he’s my son so I can make those decisions,” he reminds James, reaching out for Jack who reaches back out for him. “It’s none of your business who she dates or sleeps with or anything. And with my job, I know who’s a good man from one look at him.” 

James scoffs, “Okay, man, I didn’t come here to fight.” He takes the keys from his pocket and hands them to her. 

“No, you just come over to rub stuff in her face and make her feel like crap,” he gets defensive and puts Jack down on the ground again. “Jack, go see Uncle Derek.” 

“Okay,” he says, running off towards the front door. 

“I don’t want to see you here unless it’s pick up or drop off day, got it? Haley can call and bring him over if she needs help with something, but I don’t want you here if you’re going to start shit and upset her every time you see her. I hate the way you make her feel,” Aaron says, stepping into James’ space and asserting his dominance. 

“You can’t control her,” he fights back. “You’re acting like you own. the place, but you don't! You’re just too cheap to get your own fucking house.” 

“This is my house!” Aaron shouts. 

“You’re insane, acting like her husband or some shit,” James just starts to laugh. 

“I will be one day,” he spits. “I love her, I have loved her for months now. She is the love of my life, the best thing that’s ever happened to me aside from Jack and I will do anything to make sure she never feels even a smidgen close to how you made her feel for almost 2 fucking decades. You piece of shit.” 

James doesn’t even know what to say, he just looks over at her, “What?” 

“We’re… we’ve been… we’re together,” she simplifies it. 

“How long has this been happening?” 

“You don’t get to fucking ask that after fucking my wife for a year!” Aaron fully snaps. “You’re the problem here!” 

“It’s been 10 years,” he pushes right back. “Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? I’ve been fucking Haley for as long as I’ve known her because you were never home. You were a terrible—

“Don’t even fucking dare!” Aaron yells. “Who the fuck do you think you are? Do you not realize that by filling in for me you left your wife alone? You were also a terrible fucking husband who ruined her self-esteem and didn’t deserve her.” 

“Well at least we’ve got what we deserve now,” James says with a shake of his head before retreating back to his truck. 

They don’t look at each other, they just watch him leave and stand there in silence. She doesn’t know what to do or say or how to act… Aaron turns to her first. “I’m sorry.” 

“Did you mean it?” She asks, trying her best not to cry. “Cause if you just said that to piss him off I’m never going to talk to you again.” 

“Oh, no,” He’s quick to place his hands on her arms, soothing her as he looks right into her eyes, “no, I wasn’t lying. I love you. I love you so much it makes me feel insane.” 

She lunges for him, hands on his cheeks as she kisses him hard. He wraps his arms around her back and holds her tight. She peppers kisses to his lips and they both breathe out into little smiles. 

“Oh, Aaron, I love you, too,” she finally speaks. “I can’t believe this?” 

“Believe it,” he whispers. “I love you. I have loved you the whole time.” 

“Like really?” She asks, letting the insecurity slip out. “This isn’t just because we’ve been through the same thing and we’ve only spent time with each other? Like this is real?” 

“It’s real… but if you want, given what we’ve gone through— and I’m not saying this to be mean, but we could get couples therapy? We could talk out all these fears and issues and you can see someone to work on your self-esteem?” 

She’s a bit shocked but that’s probably the most mature thing they could do. “Yeah, we can try that?” 

“Cause I love you, I want this to work, I want to be with you as long as humanly possible,” he explains.

“I love you just as much,” she says, leaning in for another kiss. 

“I’m going to love you forever.” 

And oddly enough, she believes him. 

General Taglist 

@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @buckleyhans @mrs-ssa-hotch

ILALWTWIATTGYO

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[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 Theoretically Yours.

Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Summary: After a series of murders at your university, the FBI has decided to give you a bodyguard. The problem is that he is extremely cute and can hardly protect himself, especially from you and your charms.

Words: 1,9k.

TW: mentions of murder, crime, blood and also a plot twist???. spicy insinuations. spencer from the first seasons. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I'm really excited about this, I love Spencer Reid in all seasons, but in the early ones he had something different that drove me crazy. Also, this is the first time I write here and I'm nervous.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

It was supposed to be a normal day, but agents showed up at your door to stop you from going to class and left you under the watchful eye of the youngest of them, Dr. Spencer Reid. It was a precaution to protect you from the killer who has been stalking the campus, killing girls with similar profiles to yours.

You weren't afraid and insisted that it wasn't necessary until you saw him. The mere thought of spending time alone with the man made you more excited than you would have liked. He was very tall, skinny and could barely look you in the eye for more than five seconds without looking away absolutely blushing.

You had decided not to talk to him or act suspicious, but for some reason you liked the idea of him helping you with your biology homework. You were studying pre-med at the behest of your parents and were having trouble understanding some of the material. Spencer saved your life when he offered to help you and told you about his multiple doctorates.

“You are amazing, like a genius.” You said in surprise when he read the big book you had on the table in just five minutes and left a bunch of notes in it.

He blushed again, trying to adjust his glasses to hide it so it wouldn't show. Reid was doing his best to be professional and not let his guard down, he had to be vigilant in case you were in danger.

“It's nothing. I hope it helps you.” He said, giving you a little smile.

You nod and look at the television behind him. They were airing a new report on the latest murders, showing photos of the victims and interviews with family members. Everyone cried and repeated how unfair it was to lose their prodigy daughters to a madman. You thought about how they made such a simple TV show about spilled blood without thinking about it, just trying to paint the girls who had tormented you for several years as white doves.

“Don't worry, you're safe here. I can promise that.” Spencer spoke as he followed your gaze. He was trying to comfort you and take away any fear with his presence.

“I know.” You smile at him with innocence. You were more than capable of protecting yourself and you knew it.

There was an awkward moment of silence, so you offered him coffee to break it. You went to the kitchen and poured two cups, watching from afar as he talked on the phone in the meantime. You couldn't help but notice the nervousness in his voice as he repeated to his colleagues that all was well with you.

“She's pretty, isn't she?” Penelope's voice rang through the phone in Reid's ear and sent shivers down his spine. “I saw some pictures in internet.”

“I...maybe...yes.” He mumbled, trying not to let you hear him. "How does that matter or help the case?"

As you used the coffeepot, Spencer looked you over from head to toe. He couldn't deny how attractive you were and how much his heart raced when you were around. His extreme lack of flirting skills and his clear differences with you saved him from the temptation you were.

“Just have fun, lover boy. You need it.” The woman smiled proudly and hung up the call before he could answer.

The two poured cups were already on the table, you sat down on the sofa by the window to start reading the notes he had left in your medical book. His impeccable handwriting made you shudder, it was unbelievable that someone with so much knowledge would waste time trying to take care of you from yourself and not even realize it.

“You're okay?” He asked with a soft voice, sitting in front of you.

“Yes, just reading your notes.”

“Sorry, I put too many. But I can mark the important ones for you.” He gently took the book from your hands and began to place himself between the paragraphs with one of his fingers.

Your eyes fell on his hands, the way he moved them over the pages of the book bringing inappropriate thoughts to your mind. You hadn't noticed before how perfect every part of him seemed, especially now that he was spouting complex biological terms without even flinching. You were aware of your own intelligence and proud of it, but you would have liked to be like him...or at least have him around.

“Is something wrong?” He asked confused as he noticed how you had been watching him.

“Sorry. I was thinking of biology...nothing better to look at to understand the theory.” You said to justify your indiscretion.

“Oh sure, it helps. According to several studies, the human being has three main systems for perceiving information: visual, auditory and kinesthetic.” He began to explain quickly. “This theory was put forward in 1988.”

“Maybe that can help me.” You suggested, trying to look away from him.

He nods and start to talking again.

“You were watching, that was visual. And you heard me talking before, that was auditory.”

“And what is kinesthetic?” You asked, even though you knew what the answer was.

Spencer swallowed before speaking, trying to hide his nervousness at the sudden change in tone of the conversation. He was glad to know that he had been able to turn the situation around and put the recent crimes out of his mind, he had been worried that they would affect you.

“Is what is learned through sensation and movement.” He finally said with his voice trembling slightly.

“Can I...?” You try to ask, but he nods before you can finish the sentence.

You stop looking into his eyes and take his hand, put it on your legs and start tracing lines with your finger over his scarred veins. You could feel him shudder every time you touched him, and his mutterings about the technical names of each became inaudible.

“This is the radial artery, provides oxygenated blood to the hands and fingers.” You start to talking, looking him to the eyes again and letting your hand enjoy the softness of his.

“Yes...yeah, it is.” His voice came out as a whisper, as if he was losing control of the situation. No one had ever touched him in such a way before.

The smell of coffee mixed with his cologne is almost addictive and begins to drive you crazy. Just touching his hands was not enough, something inside you wanted more and the ideas running through your head began to torment you. You knew it wasn't right and that your own sanity was in jeopardy, he was one of the good guys and you not so much. It just wasn't right for you to mix, let alone under the current circumstances.

“I should check the perimeter.” Spencer rose from his seat and slowly moved his hand away from yours. He need to go away before something incorrect happened.

All the words were caught in your throat at that moment. You didn't want him to walk away yet.

“It's not necessary.” You got up after him, preventing him from walking to the door and being able to leave. “Everyone is in their classes now, the residence is empty and your coffee is going to get cold.”

Spencer knew you were right. He couldn't go against logic, so he sat back down on one of the couches and took a sip of the coffee you had poured for him. He did his best to avoid your gaze, but it was impossible when you were looking out the window and absentmindedly sipping your coffee.

“Do you think they'll find the killer?” You asked, trying to make conversation after watching through the glass as police cruisers drove around campus.

“Of course, no one else will have to get hurt and everything will be back to normal for you.” He replied without taking his eyes off you.

“I don't think you get to decide that.” You blurt out without thinking.

The phrase and your tone were enough to make him stand up and walk towards you. He put a hand on your shoulder out of inertia, to give you support and reassure you a little.

“You don't need to be afraid.” He gave you a small reassuring smile and you felt the warmth of his touch.

You took a tentative step toward him, shortening the distance between your bodies. You raised your gaze to meet his, feeling at his mercy because of the difference in height. You weren't thinking too hard and didn't hesitate to put your hand on his cheek, caressing it.

“What are you doing?” He asked, trying not to get carried away by your touch.

“To thank you for being here and helping me.” You had a burst of courage and stood on tiptoe to give him a resounding kiss on the cheek.

Then you moved your face far enough away to look at him and see his blush. He looked so affected by a simple kiss on the cheek that you couldn't help but move closer again, this time with his fingers on your chin.

“You can't. We can't.” He stopped the approach just a couple of inches from their lips colliding.

“Why? Because I'm part of your job?” You questioned in frustration, unable to tear your eyes away from his mouth.

“I'm here to keep you safe.” He tried to sound calm and professional, though his voice trembled.

“I'm very safe now.” You assured him, grabbing his arms and wrapping them around your waist. “No one can hurt me here.”

Without Spencer being able to notice, a small moan escaped him at your action.

“There's a killer on the loose.” He insisted, trying to be the voice of reason even though he couldn't look away from your lips.

“Trust me, a kiss won't bring him here. I'm sure of it.” You replied as you noticed him slowly pulling away from you.

A curse tried to come out of your mouth at the rejection and lack of his touch at your waist, but before you could finish it, his lips were on yours and his hands were pressing you against him.

His lips were as soft as his hands, but the way they moved over yours was not soft at all. At first, even his tongue seemed to ask your permission to continue. It took several seconds of clear acceptance before the uncertainty of his kiss disappeared and was replaced by need.

You took advantage of the fact that you were in front of the big couch to push him off and you both fell on top of him, having only a few seconds to catch your breath before continuing. He gave you a quick, tender kiss before pulling his hands away from your back to remove his glasses, which were already fogged up and out of place. But your hand stopped him just before he could put them down on the table.

“Do not take off your glasses. I really like them.” You whispered still over his mouth.

“As you wish.” He said before kissing you again and letting himself enjoy himself under you, without thinking about anything else.

At that moment you knew that maybe committing a few more murders to keep him around wasn't such a bad idea.

[aperrywilliams]

Tin Wedding (Spencer Reid x ExWife!Reader)

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Author Masterlist | Event Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x ExWife!Reader.

Summary: You've become friends with Penelope Garcia over the past year, and after much insistence from her, you agreed to visit her at her office one day. What you didn't expect was to run into your ex-husband there. And surely you didn't expect that he - Spencer Reid - is Penelope's coworker.

Word Count: 7.2k (please, stop me!)

Warnings: Yes. I set this one as +16. Mention of Reader being drunk. Curses and some strong words. Mention of sex - oral (m&f). Nothing detailed. IDFK anything about the US marriage and divorce system.

A/N: 2nd Fic for the "We are not gonna make it" writing challenge I was hosting during October with my sis @babymetaldoll. I'm so sorry for the delay, but life has crushed me these past weeks.

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The ding of the elevator signals you are already on the sixth floor. The doors open, and the first thing you see are people going and coming. It's the bustling of a lively office at noon. But this is not just any office; this is the FBI headquarters in Quantico. You never thought you would be in a place like this in your life, but here you are after your friend Penelope convinced you to visit her at work after insisting for weeks.

BAU - Behavioural Analysis Unit reads the glass doors in front of you. This is the place. Looking at the scattered desks on the open floor, you look for a clue that leads you to Penelope.

People walk past you without paying much attention. Maybe you should ask for help. But before you can decide to do so, a voice behind your back breaks you out of your thoughts.

"Can I help you?"

You know that voice. You're sure of that. But wait. It can't be—not after years of not hearing it.

You slowly turn around just to confirm that your suspicions are correct. Standing in front of you is a curious Spencer Reid, who pales when he sees your face. He remembers you, too.

"Oh God, Spencer?"

A stupid question with an obvious answer, but that doesn't take away the surprise of coming face to face with someone you never thought you'd see again in your life.

"(Y/N)? Wow..."

Time has passed, you tell yourself. Spencer looks more grown up. His hair is a little shorter, and he doesn't look so skinny anymore; it even seems there's some muscle under the white shirt he sports. Some stubble adorns his face, and dark circles can be seen under his eyes. But his beautiful eyes are the same as you remember them from when you first met in Pasadena.

"What are you doing here?" You ask, still shocked. Spencer's expression seems pretty much the same as yours.

"Uh. Well, I work here," he explains after clearing his throat.

A Caltech's genius working with the FBI? You wouldn't have expected it. But then again, you didn't expect to cross paths with him after all this time. "And what are you doing here?"

Good point. Why did you come? Oh, yes. Penelope Garcia.

"I'm here to see a friend," you mumble. Spencer's confused look changes to what? Disappointment? Of course, you're not there for him. It's stupid ever to think that, considering you haven't talked since the day you said goodbye and parted ways in that tiny apartment you shared in Pasadena.

And then an awkward silence. What are the chances that after so long, you were going to meet Spencer? And if you're wondering how long, we're talking about ten years when you were both pursuing your degrees at Caltech. In your case, it was the first one because Spencer was already in his third PhD when you met.

Before you can say something else, the one and only Penelope Garcia burst into the room, looking for you.

"There you are! Why didn't you call me when you got here?"

Totally unbeknown to the tense silence, she steps in front of you and hugs you. You can feel Spencer's confused look on you. "I'm glad you made it! We have so much to talk about."

"Garcia is your friend?" Spencer asks, gaze on you, and it's when you realize how weird the situation is. Penelope turns to him, an eyebrow furrowed.

"Of course, I'm her friend. And she came to see me," Garcia scoffs until she realizes something. "Wait a minute. For what reason would you ask that?"

Spencer clears his throat. He doesn't know what your opinion is about people knowing that fact.

"We know each other," you explain to her before asking. "How do you know Spencer?"

"No way! What a coincidence!" Garcia chirps. The exclamation raises the interest of the people entering the bullpen. Some of them approach to where you all are. "Reid? We work together!"

What were the chances of something like that happening to you, you wondered, as Spencer continued to stare at you, his eyes never leaving yours.

"What's happening here, baby girl?" A toned man asks Garcia, who can't contain her excitement.

"Oh, you wouldn't believe it," she announces as two women join the conversation.

Garcia briefly explains to the audience who you are and that she just found out that you both know Spencer, too. After the first impression, she proceeds to introduce you to those there: Derek, JJ, and Emily. From the corner of your eye, you can see Spencer downcasting his look at their curious glances at him.

"So you guys know each other?" JJ asks.

You both nod at the same time as Spencer mutters, "Caltech."

"Ah, fellow grads," JJ assumes. And in part, she is right. Indeed, you met while you were starting your master's degree and subsequent doctorate in the same area as Spencer.

"Kind of," you admit, seeing Spencer's cheeks flush and feeling yours burn too. The guy who was presented as Derek Morgan has a smirk plastered on his face.

"College sweethearts?" Morgan asks in a teasing tone. And he is kind of right, too. You lock eyes with Spencer, and you can't tell if he did or wants to say to his colleagues what you really were at that time. But before you both can even think of saying anything, Garcia's eyes widen in recognition.

"No! Wait a minute! Did you go to college together? You said the other day that you-" she starts connecting information, and you start to freak out internally. Before you can stop her, Garcia blurts. "Oh! Spencer is your ex-husband? You have to be kidding me!"

Shit. How did she figure it out so quickly? Sure, it might be your fault for sharing details about your college love life with her on a night filled with alcohol, but how could you have known she was already acquainted with him? You were careful not to mention any names or specifics, yet here you are.

"Wait, what?" Morgan's smirk turns to jaw slack in astonishment. There is no difference between JJ's and Emily's reactions. Spencer's face is flushed, and so is yours.

"Someone is going to say anything?" Emily asks, bouncing her eyes between you and Spencer.

"Uh, well—" you start, giving Spencer an apologetic look, who returns you an awkward tight-lip smile.

"Yeah. We were married," he confirms.

"When we were at college," you add.

You can feel the heaviness in the air and the mid-surprised, mid-incredulous looks from the people around you. Morgan is the first to break the silence.

"Damn it, pretty boy. What a story you had hidden from us," he says, patting Spencer's shoulder. JJ - the quietest one until now - senses how uncomfortable you and Spencer are with all the attention.

"Guys, why don't we give them a minute?"

After a moment of consideration, Emily seconds the motion. "Yeah, Morgan, would you help me with something?"

"Su- sure," Morgan agrees, still confused but following Emily nonetheless.

"But—" Penelope is still trying to understand the whole situation and has many questions she wants to ask.

"Come on, Garcia. I'm sure (Y/N) will find you when she is ready," JJ encourages, looking at you. That's when you get out of your daze and nod.

"Yes. Yeah. I'll text you, Penelope."

And just like that, the same way people surrounded you just seconds ago, now it's just you, Spencer, and an awkward silence.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know you worked here. I didn't know you were Penelope's coworker, and—" you start to apologize.

"No. Don't. It's not your fault," Spencer rushes to speak.

"I shouldn't have told her about - about," you trail off.

"About you having an ex-husband?" Spencer supplies, and you shyly nod.

"Believe me, it's not a thing I tell everyone I meet, but Penelope, well, she-" you try to find the right words. Spencer nods in understanding.

"Yeah, she can be pretty convincing when she wants to know something."

Another halo of silence passes between you until it's Spencer who breaks it this time.

"So, how have you been? I mean, it's been a while." You nod, still uncomfortable with the situation but just as curious as you assume Spencer is.

"Yeah, it's been a while," you confirm. "Good, all good on my end. Working and living. What about you?"

"Me? Good. Working here at the BAU."

"Cool."

Cool? What does that mean?

A sharp 'Reid' is heard from behind you both, making you turn to the source. A well-dressed man with a serious gaze is looking at Spencer from an office threshold. "Can you come, please?" the man adds. Spencer nods quickly. "Sure. I'll be there in a second, Hotch." The answer seems to satisfy the man, so he nods and returns inside.

Spencer turns to you again. "Uh. I - uh-" he stutters, motioning where the man called Hotch was a second ago.

"Yeah. I have to go, too." You have to, actually, but you don't think you can face Penelope or anyone else right now, for that matter. "It was nice to see you." As you are about to run away subtly, Spencer calls your name. Stopping in your tracks, you turn, and your eyes make contact with his again.

"Would you - uh. Would you like to grab a coffee with me sometime?"

It catches you off guard, but you only assume he's being polite. You think you should return the gesture.

"Sure. Why not," you say, giving him a little smile. "Now I have to go. Bye, Spencer."

And with that, you resume your escape to the elevator.

----------

From the moment he saw you at the BAU, Spencer has never been the same. He never imagined he would see you again, especially under those circumstances. Spencer was so astonished he wasn't even able to start a decent conversation or even ask for your number after inviting you to a coffee.

Also distressed about the interrogation he knew his colleagues would subject to him, Spencer wanders through the BAU halls as if he were not in the present. And, in fact, he is not. After seeing you, he has only been able to think about you and the years you both spent in Pasadena.

A smile tugs the corners of his mouth every time one of those memories comes to him.

"Okay, pretty boy, spill," Derek prompts when he sees Spencer in the kitchen two days after your encounter.

"Uh? What are you talking about?" he turns, confused, to see Derek looking at him with a frown and arms over his chest.

"Come on! You know what I'm talking about. About the pretty lady, Garcia's friend, who happens to be your ex-wife?"

Spencer huffs through his nostrils.

"I already told you. We met in college, and we were together until we graduated," Spencer says nonchalantly as if it's normal. He tries, at least. Morgan scoffs at his attempt.

"Reid. You married her. You just can't tell me you 'were together' as you're talking about any other relationship. She was important; what happened?"

Morgan remembers well a few years ago when Spencer told him about a great love he had while at Caltech and how, from time to time, those memories would come to plague his head. It wasn't hard for Morgan to connect the dots and assume you were the person Spencer was referring to.

Spencer sighs thoughtfully. "We ended it by mutual agreement. We both knew our career paths were going to be incompatible, and we both had so many dreams to fulfill. Our greatest act of love was letting each other go. At least that's how I saw it for a long time."

"But you regretted it at some point," Morgan adds, and Spencer nods. "Why didn't you try to find her then?"

"I didn't want to be selfish. What if she already had her life going perfectly, and I was just going to show like a kicked puppy? It wasn't fair for her."

"Man, I get it, but what about now? You found each other again. Can it be a kind of sign or something." Spencer glances at Derek with an incredulous look.

"Are you listening to yourself? You sound like Garcia," Spencer grumbles, making Derek laugh.

"Yeah. Definitely, it's something my baby girl would say. But, truly speaking, Reid, why not take a chance?"

Spencer huffs in frustration. "I - I don't know anything about her in these years! I didn't even ask for her number that day. I was frozen on the spot!"

"And that will stop you?"

A satisfactory smirk appears on Derek's face when Spencer stays silent, contemplating his options.

---------

Not wanting to talk about the encounter with anyone, you write to Penelope, apologizing for having to leave suddenly that day. She responds everything is fine and doesn't even ask you why, to which you are tremendously grateful.

But as the days pass by, you know you have to talk to her at some point, so you invite her to come over one afternoon.

You have been thinking a lot and rationalizing everything that happened. Of course, there was always a possibility of crossing paths with Spencer someday, but turning it into reality is different. So you conclude all your nerves were out of the shock of something unprovable happening, not because seeing Spencer after ten years made you fall off your balance.

With that in mind, you were ready to talk to Penelope.

Once she gets to your apartment, you first apologize for leaving that day and explain how you got frozen after the unexpected encounter. Garcia tells you not to worry and even says she is sorry for telling everyone about her discovery without any filter.

"It's just- I was so impressed. I couldn't help it!" she explains, and you nod in understanding.

"It's okay. I guess no one expected something like that."

"Right? But I have to ask. How did Spencer Reid become your husband? I mean, you told me about your ex-husband and all, but I'm sorry, I can't picture Spencer even talking to a girl without stuttering, less asking for marriage, and then divorcing? It's beyond me."

It catches your attention how she talks about him. Although you met Spencer when you both were very young, knowing how shy he was, over time, you managed to beat his barrier and meet a wonderful man full of charisma and not so sheepish after all. Has he never shown that side to anyone else in all these years?

"Why so much interest in my marriage? It's been a decade," you ask Penelope, and her scoff sounds a mix of obvious and disbelief.

"Honey, it's unbelievable Doctor Loving Reid has kept THAT information to himself for so long. So now that it is out, it does pick my full interest. Spill. What happened?"

You shrug your shoulder. "It's like I said the first time I told you. We were young, a whole life ahead. Neither he nor I wanted to cut each other's wings."

"But you loved each other!" Penelope complains with an adorable pout. You have known this woman for what? Less than a year? And she seems brokenhearted about something that happened to you and Spencer ten years ago. She's right, though. You and Spencer were mad in love. Unlike what people have believed for years, your marriage was not a result of a wild night of alcohol and passion in Pasadena. You were both quite sober when you went to court that day. Both even had written down the vows you professed in front of the judge- yours on a piece of paper and Spencer in his brain, of course.

"If it's any consolation, the year we were married, we were very happy," you tell her, fondly remembering that time. Garcia rolls her eyes.

"Well, exactly that's what I mean, miss. If you were so happy, why end it like that?"

The only answer you can think of is 'it's complicated,' but that will surely increase her curiosity.

"We wanted the best for each other, even if it meant being apart. As good rational beings, we weighed our options, and the sensible thing to do was to end it."

Putting it in that way, Penelope can believe it. Having known Spencer for years, she knows for a fact his big brain is capable of analyzing every probability of every possible outcome. What seems incredible to her is how feelings - how love - can be rationalized like this.

A ding from your phone pauses your talk with Penelope. You glance at the device and see a text from an unknown caller.

'Hi. I'm Spencer. I stupidly didn't ask you for your number, so after cursing myself for the past few days, I had to find it out. Don't get mad, please. I would really like to grab a coffee with you if you are up to it. If you don't want to, I understand. And if you don't want me to contact you again, just say the words, and I'll stop. But I really hope you say yes. SR.'

Okay. This is unexpected. Indeed, you remember not having exchanged numbers with Spencer, and you didn't give it much thought either, assuming his invitation had been out of pure kindness. But here you are, reading the message and feeling an emotion you can't describe. Nostalgia, maybe?

You narrow your eyes to Garcia, who immediately suspects who sent you a text.

"Before you ask, I didn't give him your number!" she defends as you breathe a deep sigh.

"He's asking me out for coffee," you tell Garcia, and she can't help but squeal.

"Will you say yes?"

"I don't know. Is it a good idea to get back in touch after all these years?" you muse more for yourself than her.

"Honey, only you know what's best for you, but if you ask me, I remember you telling me after you both split up, you were left with a lot of 'what ifs' in your head, and some of them are still floating around. Maybe this could help clear them up once and for all."

Penelope has a point. But now, you have a dilemma in the form of a coffee invitation.

---------

It's just a coffee. Don't overthink it.

You have been telling yourself that for a while as you walk to the coffee shop where you agreed to meet Spencer today.

He is just being nice.

Sure, after ten years of no contact, this sudden encounter in the FBI - with all his colleagues there - maybe pressured him to invite you to grab a coffee.

Still lost in your thoughts, you don't realize you are already there. After taking a deep breath, you step inside and look around. You spot him in a booth in the corner, back to you. A smile tugs at your lips, remembering all the coffee dates you both had back then. It was your thing. Hours and hours talking about everything and anything until the owner asked you to leave because they needed to close.

"Hey," you greet, making Spencer look up to you.

"Hi," he returns, a smile plastered on his face. "Thanks for accepting my invitation," he gestures for you to sit.

"Sure. Why I wouldn't?" After taking off your coat, you sit in front of him in the booth.

"Yeah. I mean, we haven't talked in ten years. And then we see each other at my work, and- well, it's kind of weird, I guess?"

Weird is an understatement, you think.

"You are right. Kind of it is."

You notice there are two coffee cups on the table. Spencer follows your line of sight.

"Uh- I had ordered already," he points to the coffee in front of you. "I don't know if you have changed your order, though."

"Thanks," you mumble appreciatively. "I haven't changed it, actually."

"Great!"

You try to gauge his expression. Is he nervous? Anxious? Because you are.

"Spencer, if you are uncomfortable, we can just go home. There is no—" You can't finish the sentence before Spencer cuts you off.

"No. No, I'm not. Please, don't think that."

"Okay," you concede. "I won't. But you need to be honest with me, okay?"

"Of course," Spencer agrees.

"You felt obligated to invite me here after what happened?" You bluntly ask, and Spencer's eyes widen.

"What? No, of course not," Spencer immediately denies. "I really wanted to see you. It's just that-" he hesitates. You tilt your head, waiting for him to continue. "I just didn't know if it was right, you know? I mean, we never reach out, and then it happens. We never agreed-" he trails off. And you know exactly what he's talking about.

Back then, when you decided to go separate ways, Spencer asked you what would happen if you met again in the future, and you shook your head, saying it probably wouldn't happen. So yes, you never talked about the possibility, and Spencer understood he should never contact you, and so did you.

"I know. We didn't," you recognize, regret slipping in your voice. "I guess I didn't want to think about the possibility back then."

You two know there are things you left out and left unsaid the last night you were together in Pasadena, but you don't think it's a good idea to say them now—not when this is supposed to be a friendly reunion between exes.

"So, since when have you been working in DC?" Spencer asks after you tell him about your work career on the west side.

"Almost two years," you admit.

Two years living in the same city. Spencer wonders if Garcia hadn't met you, he would have ever seen you again.

Your professional career has certainly been prolific; Spencer can tell after the stories you have been recounting. Years of experience and important jobs, just as you had dreamed when you were in college. These are the same dreams you shared with Spencer during the nights of studying and those where there was everything else but studying.

"I thought you were going to pursue academics. When did the FBI happen?" you ask after saying it's enough of talking about yourself.

"I thought that too. And I did it for a while. Then I met Gideon. He - uh, he showed me what the BAU had been doing, and I knew it was my place to be."

Spencer fondly tells you about his early years working as a profiler and how much he has learned. It seems that, like you, he has found his professional calling.

Two hours and three coffees later, you are both laughing about the weird and funny things you have seen in the past years. It feels good, and much of the initial nervousness has dissipated. But there is one topic you both have actively avoided: romantic relationships.

You are curious about it, and Spencer is, too, but neither of you wants to be the one to mention it first. Spencer is who breaks first.

"Are we going to talk about - about that? I feel we have been dancing about the topic, but I don't know if you want to."

You can't help but snort out of being caught and for the subject itself. You are sure your almost nonexistent love life is enough to make anyone cry or laugh.

"I'm still that obvious?"

"You have your tells," Spencer shrugs. You raise an eyebrow.

"I have my tells? What about you, doctor? You have been bouncing your leg the same way you did the day you defended your engineering PhD dissertation."

Spencer's eyes widen. "You still remember that?"

The insinuation of you forgetting that day makes you scoff.

"Of course I do! I tried everything to try to calm your nerves. Do you remember what I did, and actually, it worked?" Spencer's cheeks redden because he remembers.

You won't tell the details, but you recall, as clear as the day, how you helped him to 'decompress.'

"Okay, okay. Guilty as charged."

"So, what do you want to know?" You ask, still not fully ready but resigned, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms over your chest.

"Are you with someone?" Spencer asks, and you gasp, feigning surprise.

"No beating around the bushes, uh?"

Spencer's cheeks flush, and he can't help it. "If it's out the line, you don't need to answer."

Seeing him flustered and biting his lower lip makes your heart do flip-flops. It's something you haven't felt in a long time—ten years, to be exact.

"If you had asked me a month ago, I should have said yes."

Indeed, you had a boyfriend until a month ago when his insistence on moving in with you was too much to handle, and his frustrated self decided to say a lot of awful things when you said no to him.

Some people would say you have commitment issues, and maybe you have. But in all honesty, until this day, there is no one you have felt secure enough to take that step.

It's ironic, considering you already have a marriage under your belt.

"I'm sorry," Spencer mumbles.

"No. Don't be. It wasn't meant to be."

'Like I used to think about us,' you want to add, but you refrain. Instead, you explain in not much detail every failed relationship you have had. Spencer listens intently, his heart aching to think of how a part of you might have been broken with each failed relationship. He hasn't done any better, though.

"And that's all. As you can see, there is nothing too exciting to remark," you chuckle to lighten the mood. "Tell me about you. There is a Mrs. Reid waiting at home?"

Spencer snorts, shaking his head. "No. There's no Mrs. Reid. The only one who has held the title has been you," he says with a look that makes your breath hitch in your throat. What is it? Longing?

"Wow. I feel honored," you tease, trying to hide the heat rising to your cheeks.

Spencer tells you about the few relationships he's had over the years. In his own opinion, none of them are very meaningful. When you ask him why, he doesn't hesitate to answer. "This job not only consumes my time, but also a lot of me as a person. Not everyone understands that."

He would like to say no one has ever been so important as to make him doubt continuing to work in what he does. The only person who ever made him doubt was you. But instead of saying it, he prefers to end with a "I guess that's why no one has stayed."

Listening to him talk is like listening to yourself, trying to minimize the fact that professional success is possibly one of the main reasons why other parts of your personal life have never flourished.

It was your choice. You both decided to make it that way. But sometimes you wonder if...

"Do you think we made a mistake?"

Spencer's question gets you out of your thoughts.

You look at him, baffled. "What?"

"Do you think we shouldn't have broken up? That I shouldn't have left?"

You pondered his question for a second. It has to do with how you felt at that time? Or does it have to do with how you felt after or even now?

"Honestly? I don't know, Spencer." A resigned sigh leaves your lips. "I always wanted to think it was the right thing to do."

"You never regretted it?" He asks you, and you shrug, not knowing much to say. Instead, you opt to ask him the question back.

"Did you?"

"Yeah. I did," he admits. "Sometimes I still do."

A heavy silence settles between you. The admission that you both had doubts about the drastic decision you made almost ten years ago is difficult to take. It unfurls a whole new set of questions whose answers you are not sure you are ready to hear or say. But it's only fair he knows your truth as you know his now.

"For what is worth, me too. I regret it. More often than I would like to admit."

Spencer's heart starts to beat faster; breath hitches in his throat for a second.

He tentatively reaches out to rest his hand on yours. You watch the action and think you know what it means. His eyes are hopeful. Something you'd like to mirror in your own, but the uncertainty is there, and you can't help it.

"Spencer, no. Please, don't." You try to articulate but not take your hand away from his. "I wish I could tell you I'm willing to try- to try to make up for lost time, but I can't. Even though it may not seem like it, we're strangers to each other, and I'm not in a place to even think about- you know."

Spencer gives a little squeeze to your hand, nodding.

"I know. And I'm not asking you for us to redo our story and start from where we ended. No. But I would love to get to know you again and be your friend."

"Friends?" You ask, brows furrowed. He smiles.

"Yeah. First and foremost, you were always my best friend. My person. Even if we never get back together as a couple, and we don't have to, I don't want to lose you again."

You take a moment to think about his words. What would be the harm? You're at a stage in your life where you don't want to live thinking about those things you wish you had done and didn't. The things you might have done differently. Why not put reason aside for a moment and just be?

You squeeze his hand back, a sign of yes; you're willing to get to know the Spencer in front of you.

---------

Three months have passed since your conversation with Spencer at the coffee shop. You both agreed to reconnect as friends, which has led to many coffee meetings, lunches, dinners, movie nights, and walks in the park. And to say your heart feels full and happy would be an understatement. You've realized how much of the Spencer you met in Pasadena still exists, and the connection that once brought you together has revitalized and is stronger than ever.

Neither of you has wanted to rush things, and so far, you're both happy to be able to spend time together.

Spencer has also opened the door for you to the BAU team, which has been his family for eight years now. In addition to the bond you already had with Penelope, you now regularly attend the girls' night she hosts with JJ and Emily. You've also gotten to know Derek and Hotch better and understand why Spencer considers them like his older brother and father figure, respectively. You've also become a favorite of David Rossi, who doesn't take no for an answer every time he invites you to one of his dinners.

Like tonight, where you find yourself vividly chatting with the girls in a corner of Rossi's backyard.

"No way I could have passed Dynamics and Mechanics without Spencer," you acknowledge when you're talking about the most challenging subjects you had in college.

"It seems a very interesting topic," Emily jokes, not knowing what the hell you were talking about.

You giggle at the memory, cheeks turning a shade of pink.

"I still remember those afternoons Spencer spent trying to help me memorize the Euler–Lagrange equations and the Hamilton's principle. He made it interesting, if you know what I mean," you wink at them.

"I don't think I want to know," JJ muses. Emily snorts at the suggestion.

"Oh, I definitely want to know what that means," Penelope pipes. You chuckle.

"One night, he made me recite the whole equations with his head buried between my thighs," you confess with a mischievous look.

"Oh my God!" Garcia's jaw goes slack, and Emily's eyes widen in disbelief.

"You fucking kidding me!"

"Definitely, I didn't want to know that," JJ shakes her head.

"Well, I helped him with Applied Computer Science. He had to produce a code to operate a string of relational databases while I was on my knees su-"

"Okay! I get it!" Garcia cuts you off, with her hands in the air, as Emily laughs and JJ groans.

"You asked," you shrug, a smirk on your lips.

"Okay, okay. But hear me out. Since we are talking about college time, and honestly speaking, we all have had someone in college, more or less important, with whom to study or do other things," Emily prefaces, making you giggle. "But from that, to marry, and one year later to divorce? How do you get over something so intense like that?"

You have questioned yourself the same for years.

Looking past JJ's shoulder, you see Spencer talking with Morgan, beer in hand, and you can't help but feel the smile creeping on your face when he looks back and winks at you.

If anything, the past months have made you realize what you had back then with him was unique. But what you're having now? It is as unique as before and better.

"I don't think you get over it. And it's okay; you learn to appreciate it and value the chances life gives you after."

The girls follow your line of sight and share a knowing look. When they see Spencer approaching the group, they collectively decide to go inside the house for a new drink.

"All yours," Garcia whispers to Spencer before going in a bee-line with Emily and JJ.

"What was that?" Spencer asks you with a quirked eyebrow when the girls are out of sight.

You look at him, pretending not to understand.

"I assume they wanted a refill," you say with a shrug. Spencer nods and smiles at you.

"And you don't? Do you want me to get you something?"

"No. I'm fine," you respond to his offer. "Besides, I think I've got my alcohol ration filled for the night."

"If you're done for the night, I can take you home if you want."

That's the Spencer you know, always concerned about your well-being and comfort. You shake your head.

"Not yet. Walk with me, though?" You ask, extending your hand for him to take. Without questioning reasons, Spencer nods and takes your hand. The two of you begin to walk towards the pool area, where the sound of the music coming from the house is less audible.

It's not unusual for you to hold hands now. You trust each other, and it's been an innocent way of showing affection. And while the tension of something more has been building, neither of you has wanted to take the next step yet.

When you stop in the pool deck, Spencer moves to stand in front of you, his free hand reaching to tilt your chin with his index so he can inspect your face for some kind of clue.

"Are you okay?"

You nod as your fingers, from your joined hands, absently play with his. A thorough smile tugs the corners of your mouth. Your eyes admiring Spencer's honey ones in the moonlight.

"More than okay," you admit. But Spencer knows there is more in your mind you're not saying.

"Yeah?"

"Yep." You're stretching this on purpose. A smirk plays on your face. Spencer knows what you are doing.

"Good." His voice is amused. This game was one you both used to play back then, testing each other's curiosity and seeing how long it took the other to demand an answer about what the other was thinking. Usually, you were the one who won since Spencer couldn't stand not knowing.

"Have you grown patient over the years, Dr. Reid?" You ask, entertained. Spencer's laughter fills you with a feeling you thought was dormant inside you, but he has managed to refloat.

Not wanting to prolong his torture, and because you don't have it in you to hold back any longer, you decide to speak.

"I know you remember, but can you tell me the first thing I said to you the day I met you?"

Spencer's eyes narrow in search of the moment you're referring to.

-

You were in the library, busily searching through the shelves for a book you couldn't find. Spencer could see the stress radiating off of you. After watching you for a few seconds, he decided to walk over to the shelf, and leaning down, he pulled a book from the top shelf before presenting it to you. "Maybe this is the one you're looking for?" And he was right. Your first thought was, 'How did I not see it before?' and then you realized the weirdest thing of all, 'how did he know which was the book you were looking for?' You didn't know the guy, and as far as you knew, he didn't know you either.

Seeing your confusion, he proceeded to explain. "It was an educated guess, seeing as you have Fuller's, Richmond's, and Helbert's there. I assumed you were in Thermodynamics 301 and didn't have Priest's."

-

Spencer laughs before trying to imitate your voice. "Can I buy you a coffee in appreciation and keep you in my purse for future reference?" You nod, smiling.

"Bold of me for asking that to a stranger, uh?"

"Bold of you for thinking I would ever refuse," Spencer says in a mocking tone to match your joke. You both share a fit of laughter. Once it subsides, your eyes fix on him.

"Bold of me to think I wouldn't fall in love with you after all these years." Your words hit Spencer, whose expression changes from light to serious in a second.

"What?"

"It's like they say. At some point, something has to give. And this is my moment." You pause before continuing. "I can't say I'm sure what's coming, because I'm not. I also don't know if what you've seen of me these past few months is worth enough for you to love me again. But there's one thing I do know. I love you. I loved you, I missed you, and now I've loved you again."

Spencer is speechless. His brain tries to piece together each word you say. You take both his hands in yours, and you can feel them tremble.

"If you'll have me, I want to be the one that stays," you add, hoping your words are good enough to convey your emotions.

You don't know when tears start running down your cheeks. It might be when you see Spencer's glassy eyes.

"I do love you. And I want you to be the one who stays," he rasps before releasing your hands to cup your cheeks with his own, leaning down to whisper, "Let me be the person you want to stay for."

"You already are," you whisper back before closing the distance between you, allowing your lips to meet in a tender, sweet kiss. A new promise and a new beginning for two souls that were meant to be. Thanks to fate, or maybe not. That doesn't matter anymore.

-

As you kiss, part, whisper sweet nothings to each other, and kiss again, not so far away, are two people watching the scene with satisfied looks on their faces.

"Do you see that, Hot Stuff?" Garcia asks Morgan. A smirk appears on his face.

"Yeah, mama. I see it, clear as the day."

"We did it!" Penelope cheers, whisper-yelling, making Morgan chuckle.

"I should never have doubted you, baby girl," the man says, kissing her cheek.

"Of course not. But I forgive you only because I'm so happy our plan worked wonderfully."

-----------

SIX MONTHS EARLIER

Penelope Garcia's curiosity always gets the best of her. She has gotten to know you better in the past months since the IA convention where you met. She sees you as a beautiful person and a good friend. So when you told her on a night full of alcohol about your ex-husband and how important your relationship was for you, Penelope couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to know more, so maybe she could do something to help. Do what? She didn't know, but maybe more information about it would give her an idea.

Quickly typing on her keyboard, she finds a Pasadena Marriage License with your name on it. Checking the date, Garcia notes you had married in the summer before your senior year. It was expected. You already told her that.

What was unexpected, though, was finding out who the person you had married was. Garcia had to read the name twice before realizing the huge discovery she had just made: Spencer Walter Reid.

'No way! It has to be a mistake,' she squealed, fast-reading the information on the papers. No, there wasn't any mistake. You married Spencer Reid almost ten years ago. The same Spencer Reid she has known for so long and works with her every day.

But wait. You had said, ex-husband. Where are the divorce papers?

Typing again, she finds a divorce request signed by you and Spencer a year after you married. So that is true, too.

Overwhelmed by everything she has just discovered, Garcia is about to close the web tabs with all this data when something pops up: it's a court resolution dated six months after the divorce request. The resolution reads that the request has been denied because one of the parts couldn't be notified for comparison to the Pasadena tribunal. Garcia narrows her eyes and types again, looking for an updated legal document granting the divorce request. She finds none.

'Double holy fucking shit! They are still married!'

Without knowing what to do with this new information, she starts pacing frantically in the office. Garcia knows that the information she found wasn't for her to know, but at the same time, how does it not you or Spencer know this? She can't tell you, but she should, or maybe not. Grabbing her phone, she dials the only person she knows will help her with the dilemma.

"Derek Morgan. I need your delicious ass in my office right now!"

And just like that, a plan emerged. A plan to give a little push to destiny. A little push to you and Spencer cross paths again. Maybe this time, for good.

-----------

"And when are you going to tell them about their failed divorce?" Morgan asks Garcia, who is still looking at the couple giggling and kissing.

"Oh, shush. Let them enjoy tonight. There will be time for that."

Derek Morgan shakes his head, laughing. "Okay. You're the boss, mama. You're the boss."

---------------

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers

[reiderwriter]

More Than Words

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female BAU!Reader

Requested: yes

Summary: After telling a white lie to your family about your relationship status, your forced to beg your coworker Spencer to pretend to be your boyfriend for a weekend wedding.

Warnings: Light smut at the end, penetrative sex, creampie, mentions of Spencer's childhood.

A/N: Thank you for the request on this one! Ever since I rewatched Season 7 and saw Spencer dancing with everyone at JJ's wedding I've been thinking non-stop about him just holding you close like that and I'm going to shut up now because 8k words of that is more than enough lmao.

You can find my masterlist here, and I just started posting all my stuff on AO3 as well, so if you prefer to read there, check it out!

Despite knowing about your brother’s impending nuptials for the last 18 months, it was in the final two-week stretch that you actually started panicking about getting the date that you’d promised them. It was one sweet little white lie that you had made that had just spiraled out of control, but you’d yet to actually manifest the secretive boyfriend who was “very real actually, mom, he’s coming to the wedding actually.”

It was that statement that had sealed your fate, and always one to wear your emotions on your face when you weren’t on a case, it wasn’t long before someone noticed your building anxiety and guilt.

“Okay, spill Y/N. You look like you just witnessed your favorite author kick a puppy or a kitten or something,” Penelope said when you dropped some files off in her room that morning, spinning around on her chair to face you as soon as she caught your reflection in her monitor.

“It’s this wedding I have to go to,” you sighed dramatically, falling into one of the other chairs in the room kept for visitors.

“Want me to help you get out of it?” Penelope offered, patting your hand comfortingly.

“I’m not sure my brother would be too pleased about that, since it’s his wedding and all. My mother would drag me down all the way from here herself if she had to.”

“Okay, so a no-show is a no-go. Then what gives, my sweet avenging angel? There has to be something serious to get you looking all glum.”

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair before straightening up and leaning into Penelope more, creating an air of secrecy.

“Promise you won’t tell?”

“Oh sweetie, if only you knew the secrets these four walls held,” she replied dramatically, pulling a laugh from you.

“Last year, I was so, I don’t know, jealous I guess, of all the attention my brother and his fiancee were getting because of the wedding, and it just felt like every time my mom called me, she would only want to talk about them because of the wedding. I felt left out, and I already live so far away anyway, so it’s hard to have that connection with people back home, so I might have told a small, tiny, inconsequential lie that now actually has consequences?” Your face flushes at the confession, and you can see Penelope trying her best not to blurt out her thoughts, intent on letting you continue.

“I told her I was seeing this guy. He’s amazing, he works in the FBI just like me, and he’s smart, and he takes me on dates to these amazing places, like museums and interesting restaurants and to book fairs. I told her he was handsome and that he looked at me like I put the stars in the night sky, and he just doesn't exist, Penelope. And now I have to disappoint my mother again by turning up to my brother's wedding without a date.”

“Oh sweetheart,” was all she said for a minute, and the sympathetic look on her face made you want to run out of there immediately.

“I know, I know, I need to tell her the truth, but I don’t want to do it at the wedding and spoil her happiness. She loves weddings.”

“And this fake boyfriend is supposed to be your plus-one?” she asked.

“My invitation read ‘To our darling sister and her mystery man,’” you groaned, wondering how you could have been so childish in the first place. You’d acted like any child on a playground would, inventing lies to make yourself seem more important and cooler.

“I think I have the perfect solution for you, angel, but you might not like it,” Penelope grinned from her chair, leaning back and playing with the pen in her hands nefariously as if she’d been waiting for this chance her whole life. You didn’t trust that look, but you had no other option, so you took a deep breath and listened to her plan.

–X–

Three days later, and you were suddenly pacing the hallways with a coffee and a croissant, poised and ready to kidnap an FBI Agent the second he passed you.

At first, you’d laughed at the suggestion she’d made, outlandish as it was. But 72 hours of reflection, and a timely phone call from your mother, and suddenly you were on board and ready to lock on to your target. You stopped pacing when you heard the elevator ding, signaling the arrival of Spencer Reid. You were thankful that his schedule was so regular and timed down to the minute that you had just enough time to ambush him in the hallway before any other member of your team noticed.

“Spencer! Here I bought you coffee and a croissant from that cafe I mentioned a while back,” you panicked, unloading the gifts into his arms quickly, taking him off guard, before checking left and right before pushing him into the nearest empty room and shutting it behind you.

“Good morning to you, too, Y/N. Is there a reason we’re in a closet right now?” he asked, looking down at you with knitted eyebrows.

“Yes,” you gumped, afraid to say anymore.

“Are you going to tell me what the reason is?”

“I need you to be my boyfriend for a weekend,” you finally blurted out.

“You need me to… Just for a weekend?” He looked confused, and you felt your cheeks flame up, as you tried your best to explain the situation for him.

“My brother is getting married in LA this weekend, and I need a date. I told my mom last year that I was in a relationship with a really great guy who also works for the FBI.”

“Oh. So, you broke up with him and don’t want to tell your mom?”

“No, he never existed. Long story, I can explain on the plane, but I really need you to come with me! I’ll pay for everything, and I’ll even get you this coffee and any pastry of your choice every day for a month, please, please, please!” You begged him, so desperate that you were moments away from dropping to your knees and grabbing his leg, refusing to move until he acquiesced. You didn’t have to in the end.

“Oh, sure, I’ll go. When did you say it was?” Your jaw fell open in shock, and it took a few seconds to pull yourself back together as you reacted to his words.

“This weekend? The flight is tomorrow at 6 a.m.” You smiled sheepishly as his eyes bugged out of his head.

“This weekend? What were you going to do if I said no?” He laughed at you a little, taking a sip of the coffee you bought him.

“Honestly? Plan B was to cry, and plan C was to kill off my mystery man in a freak accident.”

“Wow, we just started fake dating and you’re already trying to bump me off.” His smile made you burn hotter than before, as you playfully hit his arm in response.

“Stop saying we’re dating. I pulled you in here to ask you privately because I didn’t want weird rumors circulating in the office,” you pouted.

“Then you better let me out of the closet, Y/N, before people think we’re doing something we shouldn’t be. At least three people saw you drag me in here, you know.”

With that, you rush to open the door and run out, shouting a reminder back at him.

“Just be ready, okay. I’ll see you at the airport at 6 a.m.”

–X–

The flight, despite being ridiculously long, was altogether quite pleasant, and you made it back to California in one piece, Spencer trailing behind you like a lost puppy for a while, letting you take up the role of “airport dad” as you guided him through the airport and to the hotel where the wedding was being held.

“So what’s our cover story?” He asked in the taxi on the way there, breaking the comfortable silence.

“What cover story?” you asked, looking up at him from your phone, still focused on just getting to the destination.

“Where did we meet, how long have we been dating, how much do they know about me?” He listed off the possible questions that his parents were absolutely going to interrogate him with soon. “I need to prepare so we don’t get caught out, right?”

“Oh, right. Based on what I told them, we met at work and we’ve been seeing each other casually for about a year now. I didn’t give them a name yet, which annoys my mom to no end, but I was always pretty private as a child so she didn’t find it all that suspicious. Other than that, they don’t know that much about my mystery boyfriend apart from the things we’ve done together.” He listened attentively as you spoke, taking each of your words in and committing them to memory.

“What was our first date?” He asked.

“Coffee shop. That place I got you the coffee from earlier, it’s called Flondon. I’m a regular there, so it made sense to use it in my story.”

“What else have we done together?”

“There was a book fair in New York a few months back that we, uh, spent the weekend at. You surprised me for my birthday with the tickets.”

“Wow, so I’m a really great boyfriend then.” He joked a little, and you let out another groan of annoyance at his teasing. You didn’t get the chance to finish your conversation though, as the taxi finally pulled up to the hotel.

You climbed out of the taxi after paying the driver, Spencer having already left to grab your bags, before walking into the foyer of the hotel.

“Y/N, just one last thing before we go in,” he stopped you at the door, grabbing you by the arm gently. “Are we… the, um. Hotels tend to get booked up pretty early for weddings, and I’m sure your family will be suspicious if we don’t share a room so…”

He didn’t have to finish voicing his thoughts before you were cursing, not having made the connection before.

“Shit, you’re right. My brother made the booking for me months ago. We just have to go in and get the room key but I totally forgot… It’s fine, right? We’ve roomed together on cases, haven’t we?” You asked, looking up at him.

“No, we haven’t. 67% of our motel bookings allow for single occupation rooms for Agents, I end up sharing a room with Morgan for 15% of overnight stays where double occupation is necessary, Hotch for another 17%, and the remaining 1% is made up of outliers where I had to share with Rossi or Prentiss, but we…we haven’t shared before.” He gestured between the two of you for a moment there, letting the facts sit with you.

“Spencer, it’s okay with me, is it okay with you? I understand if you’re not comfortable with it. We can just turn around now if you want.”

“No, no it’s totally fine. I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable with it. Morgan says I snore, so I guess I’m not the best roommate in the world.” He smiled at you then, reassuringly, and moved his hand down your arm until it reached your hand.

You looked down at where his hand had entwined with yours and your heart gave a little jolt. Spencer didn’t like physical touch, and you knew that. You tried not to initiate any contact with him, despite being a touchy person, but there had been times after particularly tough cases and with close calls where you’d thrown yourself into the nearest person's arms, and he always happened to be near.

But those hugs had been thoughtless, natural reactions to stressful situations and this was intentional, and more importantly, he’d started it.

“Sorry, I just assumed we should get used to, uh, touching each other, I guess? We’re going to be doing it all weekend, you know, might as well start now.” He gave you an awkward closed-lip smile, and you giggled at his awkward explanatory tone. Squeezing his hand a bit, you grabbed your suitcase again in your free hand, and pushed open the door with your shoulder, pulling Spencer in behind you.

The lobby was filled with people arriving for the wedding, and you instantly spotted three cousins and two aunts from across the room, giving them a little smile as you made your way to the reception desk, Spencer right at your side.

“Hi, reservation for Y/N L/N, please.”

“Sister of the groom, right? Your mother asked me to give her a call when you arrived. Please wait one minute.” She handed you your key, and you felt yourself go pale, turning around to Spencer for reassurance.

“Oh god, she’s coming now, what do we do?”

“Y/N, calm down, it’s okay, we knew we were going to have to see your mom tonight at the reception anyways.”

“You’re right. Okay, right. Okay.” You breathed out, as Spencer wrapped his other arm around you, holding you in a closer embrace while keeping your hands locked together.

“One of my aunts is looking at us. She looks like she wants to say something. Oh god, she’s coming over, Spencer act natural,”

“Saying act naturally is actually counter-active-” but he didn’t have time to finish before you had turned to greet the older woman, disentangling yourself from Spencer’s arms as you hugged the woman warmly.

“It’s so good to see you, Y/N, you know how we all worry about you doing that job of yours. The other week we saw you on the news about that tragedy with the young girl…” she trailed off, giving you a worrying look before quickly shifting her gaze to her actual target, Spencer.

“I think I saw you too, young man. You must be Y/N’s boyfriend,” she smiled at him, waiting to hear a response so she could return to the other matrons with the gossip.

“Yeah, nice to meet you, I’m Spencer.” You could tell he was thankful that the woman hadn’t stuck her hand out to shake his, as he positioned himself mostly behind you, keeping his hands occupied by letting one settle on your hip and the other keeping a hold of your suitcase.

“Spencer? Spencer Reid?” You heard your mother before you saw her, turning around in your place to finally see her, as Spencer whipped his head around as well. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s so wonderful to finally meet you.”

Your mother had none of the restraint of your aunt, and unfortunately, you’d inherited your clingy side from her, which is why she immediately swooped in to give Spencer a hug. To his credit, he greeted her warmly as well and didn’t avoid the touch, but he kept it short and polite nonetheless.

“Mom, how did you know…”

“You tell me about your coworkers all the time, I’m just surprised I didn’t work it out sooner. I always said that you talked about that Spencer with a fond tone, you should ask your father, he’ll tell you that I did.” You rolled your eyes at your mother’s words, doing your best to avoid Spencer’s gaze. He’d fallen back into place by your side as you greeted your mother.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, You know, Y/N has been keeping you as this big secret for the last year, and it’s so nice to see that you’re actually real. You’re here!” She sounded so excited for you that your heart almost broke under the weight of your guilt, knowing that you’d have to come clean at some point after the wedding. As it was, you were already going to have to try really hard to avoid the photographer and videographer throughout the night so you didn’t have to be constantly reminded of your idiocy whenever your mother got the photo albums out,

“Sorry, the two of you are probably exhausted after that flight, right? Go and get yourself unpacked. The rehearsal dinner is at 8 p.m. so we’ll catch up then, sweetheart.” She left in a whirlwind, having deposited you next to the elevators, and left you with no other option but to do exactly as she said, making your way to your space for the weekend.

–X–

The following few hours had been a little awkward, to say the least. You’d awkwardly pulled away from one another in the elevator up to the room, apologizing for invading each other's personal space. The room was a decent size, but still small enough that you’d be constantly tripping up over one another the entire weekend if you weren’t careful.

Reid carefully unpacked his tuxedo when you got into the room, and then quietly informed you that he’d need a shower. You’d unpacked your own things while he did, trying not to listen to the water flowing over his body in the next room. His earlier touch had ignited something in you, and your heart was beating at his every gesture now, something that you were sure it hadn’t done before.

What was it about weddings that made you so open to even the possibility of romance that even someone so off-limits could become the object of your affection?

So you tried not to listen, not to wonder why it was taking the man so long to just take a shower, not to let your mind wander to a place where it was perfectly acceptable to wonder what he looked like in that shower, and you unpacked and organized your things.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m really sorry but I forgot to bring my clothes with me,” he called awkwardly through the door a few minutes after you heard the water turn off, and you turned to the bathroom, not expecting the sight before you.

You’d assumed from the quiet volume of his voice that he was calling from within the bathroom itself, but instead, he stood awkwardly in front of you, a towel wrapped around his waist and torso, held together desperately in one hand.

“Oh shit, sorry, I’ll just turn around, I guess,” you stumbled over the words, dragging your eyes back up to his face as you did so, whipping yourself around to stare ahead of you.

“No, no, it’s my fault. I was so hasty I forgot my outfit for tonight. It’s okay.” You heard him fumble for his clothes and return to the bathroom quickly with another mumbled apology, finally allowing you to let out a deep, almost dreamy sigh, startling yourself. Mentally chastising yourself once again, you finished your organizing and let yourself fall onto the bed in the middle of the room sleepily while you waited for him to come out again.

You must have dozed off a little because you woke with a jolt when you felt a soft touch on your arm. There he was above you, a soft and concerned look on his face as he woke you up as kindly as he could.

“Y/N, it’s 7 p.m. We need to get ready for the rehearsal.” He whispered as if he weren’t too bothered if you didn’t want to go down at all, content to let you sleep. But you forced yourself upright anyways, and nodded at his words, swiftly moving yourself towards the bathroom he had since departed.

“Thanks for waking me, Spence,” You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, gathering your towels and change of clothes before turning back to him. In the four hours you’d apparently been dead to the world, he’d managed to dry his hair, change his clothes, and, from the looks of the book on the bedside table, read through an entire book twice.

He noticed you looking and cleared his throat. “Sorry, you looked so tired I didn’t want to wake you, so I just sat here and read while you got some sleep.”

“It’s okay, Spence. I guess I was pretty tired. I’m gonna go…” you gestured towards the shower and stepped towards it with an awkward smile, not letting him answer before you had closed the door between you and taken a deep breath, setting thoughts of him aside for the night before you focused on getting yourself ready to face your lies.

An hour later, you were making your way back down to the lobby, having received a text from your brother that that was where everyone was gathering before making their way to the dining room. Spencer offered you his arm in the elevator on the way down.

“Here, grab my arm.” He said softly down to you, a sweet smile playing on his lips.

“Oh yeah that makes sense,” you said distractedly, looping your own through his and leaning into him.

“It’ll also stop you from picking your nails,” he joked.

“I don’t pick my nails!”

“You so do. You do it when you’re nervous and when you lie about something. Last month on that case in Chicago when that officer asked for your number, you told him you had a boyfriend and started picking your nails,” he laughed down at you, enjoying your pouting face a bit too much as he profiled you.

“You’re one to talk. The last time a woman asked you out, you started rambling about the linguistic history of the phrase “go out,” in the romantic sense. She stood there for five minutes before she gave up.”

“Wait, when did that happen? I don’t remember any woman trying to ask me out.”

“Then you’re even denser than I realized, Doctor Reid, because they do it constantly.” Your back and forth ended there, though, as the elevator doors finally opened into the lobby. You smoothed out your dress and tried your best to act natural as the two of you made your entrance.

“Y/N! Over here,” you heard your brother and saw him wave at you from the other side of the room, his fiancee next to him receiving guests.

“It’s been so long since I saw my kid sister. Get over here,” he smiled at you, beckoning you over, and you released your hold on Reid to give your brother a warm hug.

“Now who is this kid sister you’re talking about because last I checked you’re only 18 months older than me.”

“18 months, 18 years, all that matters is that I am, in fact, the older one,” he released you from the bear hug and glanced up to Reid, standing awkwardly watching the scene waiting for an invitation to the conversation. “Holy shit, you’re real.”

“Hey! Be nice. This is Spencer, he’s my… he’s my boyfriend, we work together.” You felt your cheeks flame as you introduced the two of them, your brother looking at Spencer through knitted eyebrows, taking on a faux protective stance.

“Spencer, hey. Mom mentioned you were here earlier, but I didn’t think you’d be so gangly… It’s my wedding, and I’ve been told I have to keep all threats to a minimum, but if I see you getting all handsy with my sister, just know that I have a blackbelt in jiu-jitsu.”

“No, you don’t. You have a yellow belt in karate at most, and you got that at age 10.” You laughed at the man.

“And whose fault is that?”

“Oh my god, it’s been almost 20 years, I already apologized!”

“Apologised for what?” Spencer finally managed to butt in, watching your sibling bickering as if it were a tennis match.

“This little rodent,” your brother said, scruffing up your hair as he spoke, “broke my wrist when she was 8 and I was 10.”

“It was self-defense! You were trying to use your karate moves on me and I panicked!”

“And now, you’re a hot-shot FBI Agent and you get to break bad guys wrists all the time.” He finished for you and you laughed, suddenly glad to be back around family.

“So, Spencer, you’re an FBI Agent, too? I thought my mom mentioned something about you being a Doctor earlier.”

“I am. A Doctor. And an FBI Agent, uh, they’re PhD’s not medical degrees, though. Three of them, Math, Chemistry and Engineering. I also have Bachelor's Degrees in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology.” He answered, and you looked up at him proudly, taking his hand as you noticed him growing slightly uncomfortable with the attention from your brother.

“Wow,” was all your brother said, until he finished the statement with “All those degrees and my sister was the best you could do, huh?” You punched him in the arm after that, and you felt Spencer physically relax a bit, twinning your fingers with his as you chastised your brother.

“Anyway, thanks for taking the time to come to our, hopefully, lovely wedding, the reception will be starting soon. The dining hall is just through there.” You hugged your brother again, and, with a breath of relief, led Spencer down the hall to the dining hall.

“That went well, I think?” you whispered to him, conspiratorially.

“Your family is nice,” he replied. “Does he always act like that, or is it the wedding spirit possessing him somehow?”

“If you’re referring to my brother, I think he’s probably partaken in a few flutes of champagne already this evening. But yes, he’s always like that. They all like to treat me like a baby when they see me.”

“I think it’s nice. They care about you a lot,” his words were warm, but his eyes were sad, and you remembered what you’d been told of Spencer’s own childhood and felt your heart ache for him. His mom loved him a lot, but Spencer had needed to grow up much too fast. You squeezed his hand, still clasped in yours and before you knew it you were pushing onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you, Spencer. For being here,” you said as his now flushed face met yours. You didn’t let him respond though, simply pushing forward into the dining hall, ready to live in the fantasy of your own making for the evening.

–X–

“Spencer, you were amazing!” You giggled, walking down the hall to your room, stumbling slightly in your excitement and haste.

“Those magic tricks? The little babies couldn’t get enough of you,” you spun around, wrapping your arms around the man’s neck and pulling him in close to you, letting him hold you against the door to your room. He laughed a little at your antics as he pulled out the key card.

“Y/N, are you drunk?” he asked, one hand firmly planted on your waist to steady you now.

“No! I’m just happy. And if that happiness was caused by an array of cocktails forced into my hands by distant aunts and cousins who all wanted to know about my absolute catch of a boyfriend, then that is simply secondary to the feeling itself. And furthermore-” He pushed the door behind you in on itself, and your words were cut off by your legs giving out beneath you.

You were so sure you were about to take a tumble to the floor that you shut your eyes tight and braced for an impact that didn’t come. Opening them again slowly, you saw Spencer closer than before, his face mere inches from your own as he held you in an improvised dip, having caught you just before you’d hit the ground.

“Sorry. I… Shit, maybe I am drunk,” you breathed out, not letting your eyes drift from his own, knowing that if you ever considered a glance down at his lips at that moment, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from closing the measly distance separating you.

“You should use the bathroom first,” he told you, but without making any move of his own, stuck in that pose with you as if he was content to stay there for as long as he could hold you. “You should take your make-up off. We have a long day tomorrow, right?”

You were the first one to move, letting your feet find a more solid footing beneath you and twisting up from his grip. His hands didn’t leave your body as you became more upright though, still keeping you in that close embrace.

“Yeah, I should… I should go wash up.” You said, and he nodded, still looking at you with the same intensity as before.

“Spencer, that means you need to move,” you whispered quietly, and he jumped back as soon as the words were out of your mouth.

“Sorry. I’ll just… I’ll just be over there,” he held his hands up in surrender before moving further into the room, leaving you next to the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom and were ready to sleep once again. Thankfully, you of earlier that day had managed to store your pajamas in the bathroom ready for their use. Upon exiting the bathroom, you saw that Spencer was getting ready to sleep too, slacks and a shirt having been replaced by a pair of flannel pants and a very old and beaten-up CalTech sweater, looking perplexedly down at the bed.

“Spence, what’s wrong?”

“We didn’t speak any further about the sleeping arrangements…” he mumbled and you looked at the bed in front of you, still confused at his meaning. “Y/N, we have to share the bed.”

“Oh.” You knew you probably sounded dumb, but after the amount of alcohol thrust upon you that night, that was all you could muster at this point.

“I can sleep on the floor if that makes you feel more comfortable. It’s probably no worse than some of the motel beds we’ve stayed on before,” he offered, but you instantly shook your head.

“No, I dragged you out here, I’m not making you sleep on the floor as well,” you sighed and made your way to the side of the bed you’d slept on earlier, beginning to pull the covers down so you could get in.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, perplexed by your somehow contrasting words and actions.

“I’m getting ready for bed. It’s late.” You replied, not looking up at him again, for fear that he’d spot the blush on your face. “You should too,” you continued, patting the other side of the bed, gesturing for him to get in, too.

“Oh.” It was his turn to stand there shell-shocked in the moment, and you almost let out a giggle but held back thinking that would be too much for him to take in at that moment.

“Come on, Spence, I’m tired, I’m sure you’re tired. We’re just sharing a bed, it’s not like you have to marry me after this.” You climbed fully into the bed, making sure that your nightgown covered you decently before pulling the covers up around you. Spencer mumbled something that you didn’t catch, but he acquiesced and climbed in after you. You turned your head over on the pillow to face him, turning onto your side as you watched him turn his head to you as well.

“What?” he smiled, noticing your stare.

“Nothing. Good night, Spence,” you smiled, finally letting your eyes drop closed.

“Good night, Y/N.” He whispered, and the sound of his voice carried you off to sleep.

–X–

You weren’t sure if it was the light streaming in through the window or the rise and fall of a chest that wasn’t your own was the first thing to wake you in the morning, but nonetheless, you woke from the comfortable warmth of sleep and found yourself wrapped around your fake boyfriend.

To be fair to yourself, he was also wrapped around you. Your head had gravitated from your pillow to his chest, his left arm wrapped up and around your back. Your leg had also risen in the night, pulled up over his waist, held in place by his other arm, which was, almost embarrassingly, cradling your ass, pulling you in closer to his core. Unsure about how to go about disentangling yourself, you resigned yourself to just waking the man up.

“Spencer… Spencer,” you whispered, letting the hand that had fallen onto his chest tap him slightly. He stirred a little and then cracked an eye open, looking confused with the situation.

“Y/N, is it time for the wedding?” He asked through half-lidded eyes, evidently wanting nothing more than to fall back into whatever dreams he was having. You shifted uncomfortably in his arms then, suddenly growing stiff in the position you’d probably held for hours, and found your nightgown had risen dangerously high on your body, his hand on your near bare ass.

“No, no, it’s just…” You rolled your hips against his in discomfort, and the movement had his eyes breaking open as he finally took in your positions.

“Shit, I’m….Sorry, I don’t know what happened, I must’ve grabbed you when we were sleeping,” he said, reluctantly slipping his hands away from your body, trailing his hand around your leg, and letting it fall onto his stomach. The movement sent a shiver up your spine, as you finally had enough room to lift your torso up, not quite ready to relinquish the proximity of your entire body yet.

“It’s okay, I think it was probably me who started it in the first place. Those pillows weren’t that comfortable…” you tried to explain, the hand on his chest rubbing slow circles into his skin before you could realize what you were doing.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position then as well, clumsily. With your legs still wrapped around his waist, you had no choice but to move with him, suddenly finding yourself straddling him, the bedsheets suddenly pressed away from your body. If he looked down, he’d see a lot more than you planned for him to see, your panties on clear display as your nightgown twisted itself up into the sheets.

“Shit sorry,” he moaned out again, as you steadied yourself with hands on his shoulders.

“No, it’s okay, I didn’t move quick enough.” You quickly pulled your dress down again, and extracted yourself from the bed, lifting your leg up and off of him and finally pushing off the bed, leaving him sat there.

His hands fell into his lap and you started gathering things around the room, readying yourself for the busy day ahead.

“I have to be in the bridal suite at 11, so we have about… two hours to kill before then. Do you want to grab a shower first, or should I?”

“You first,” he mumbled quickly, before clearing his throat and trying again. “You should go first. You probably have more to do today, right?” You nodded at his words and made your way to the bathroom again. Out of the corner of your eye though, as you let the door close behind you, you watched his hands come up to cradle his flushed face, as he let his head fall back again into the pillow.

–X–

The morning was so busy after that, you barely had any chance to talk to Spencer again. You spent the early afternoon in the bridal suite with the wedding party, welcoming your new sister to the family, then made your way to the aisle space set up outside, checking up on last-minute details and helping to flower girls into position. You weren’t walking down the aisle yourself, but you could see that the extra help was letting the very stressed-out Maid of Honour get some well-needed respite. And more importantly, it stopped your wandering thoughts from letting you fantasize about Spencer.

You’d woken up in bed next to people before, of course, but it had never felt so comfortable. In fact, other people you’d slept with said you were pretty distant in your sleep, choosing to move as far away from physical touch as you could get, but you knew with no doubt that you had been the one to move in first, to touch him first. That he’d pulled you even closer had your heart singing, and you wanted to be wrapped up in him all over again, suddenly desperate to seek him out. So you distracted yourself, not wanting to make any mistakes you would regret when you were no longer wrapped up in your own fantasy.

So you kept your distance as the ceremony started. Then the wedding march was playing, and you were holding back tears as his hand slipped into yours, your head falling onto his shoulder as you watched your brother marry the love of his life.

You kept your distance as you reached the reception hall, watching all the old ladies on both sides fawn over him, asking him questions, and watching from his side as he blushed at the attention. You swept the hair out of his eyes as the couple was announced, and you took your seat for the wedding meal and the speeches, his hand falling to your back to guide you to your chair, pulling it out for you like a true gentleman.

You kept your distance as your new sister tossed the bouquet, and despite your low effort and the ravenous looks of the bridesmaids, it fell neatly into your hands as if it belonged there. You ran excitedly over to him to show him and he lifted you into a hug, caught up in your own excitement.

You kept your distance until you realized you’d not kept your distance at all, physically unable to keep yourself away from the man who had somehow stolen your heart in the middle of the night.

“I know that look,” your brother said, somehow sneaking up on you later into the night as you watched Spencer perform even more of his magic tricks for the smaller guests.

“What look?” you asked, not for one second letting your eyes drift from Spencer.

“You’re in love with him,” he said, taking a swig of the drink in his hand.

“He’s my boyfriend,” you said reflexively, turning to the drinks table behind you and picking up one for yourself.

“No, he isn’t. Or at least he wasn’t before this weekend,” your brother said, as your eyes finally snapped up to him.

“Oh, don’t act all surprised, Miss FBI Profiler. You may be good, but I’ll always be your older brother, and contrary to popular opinion, I do in fact pay attention to things.” You sighed and leaned back against the table.

“How’d you figure it out?”

“You were picking your nails the entire way through the reception dinner when the aunties were asking you about your relationship. You did that when we were younger too, when you tried lying to Mom and Dad about how I broke my wrist. Doesn’t take two PhD’s to figure that out.”

“Three.”

“Three what?”

“Three PhDs. He has three of them.” You sighed dreamily and ran a stressed hand through your head.

“He’s just my coworker. I didn’t want to disappoint Mom by coming alone after telling her all those stories, but now…” You tried to explain yourself but words were escaping you in that moment.

“You should tell him, trust me. He definitely feels the same.”

“How are you so confident about that? How did you manage to end up with all of the confidence between the two of us, when I can barely work up the courage to tell my own mother I’m still single?”

“Y/N, look at me. You got the brains, I had to have something. And no man flies to the opposite side of the country on a few day's notice for a girl who is just a friend, okay? That’s more logic than confidence, and that’s supposed to be your strong suit.”

You considered his words for a second, turning back to look at Spencer. Evidently, he’d finished his magic show and was beginning to say goodbye to the children, but he felt your eyes on him somehow and met your gaze. He brought his hand up into a shy wave before a little girl grabbed his attention again, and he looked at her seriously, nodding along to each word she was saying.

“Fuck, what do I do, I’m not good with… any of this.” You turned back to your brother, but he’d left you there, stranded in your own thoughts as you let yourself hope, let your brain dream that one day this would be your wedding and the man by your side would be Spencer Reid.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the bride and groom request the presence of all the couples on the dancefloor for this next song.” You saw your brother again, next to his wife, whispering his explanations in his ear as she turned to look at you and winked as well. God, they were going to be a force to be reckoned with together now, you thought, as people started pushing past you to make their way to the dancefloor.

You recognized the song of course, and it was almost so on the nose you almost rolled your eyes. More Than Words by Extreme. Perfect.

“Y/N, may I have this dance?” He had somehow snuck up on you from behind as you watched your brother, and held his hand out to you. You put your drink down and took it, letting him lead you to the dance floor.

“I didn’t think you danced, Dr. Reid,” you teased him as he pulled you in, letting his hands rest on your waist, as yours came up around his neck, gently letting him sway you side to side in time with the music.

“I don’t really, but it seemed wrong not to,” he smiled. “I’m at a wedding, with the most beautiful girl on my arm, and the couple made it very clear that we should be dancing, so here I am.” You blushed at his words as he spoke. He removed his hands from your waist, instead grasping one of yours in his own as he pulled you closer.

You stared up at him with a soft smile for a few more seconds before letting your head fall back to his chest.

“I know I’ve said it a lot this weekend, but thank you, Spencer.” You said into his shirt, letting him hold you close as the song went on.

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N.” He insisted, and you looked up at him again. “Actually… I didn’t exactly agree to this with the best of intentions.”

Your heart lept to your throat as you stared up at him, hoping that he would take your silence as a means to continue.

“I’ve been… I thought that maybe…” he struggled to get the words out, his face aflame with the effort.

“You promised me those coffees right?” He finally stuttered out, and you were left confused and a little disappointed.

“Yeah, Spence, it’s okay, I’ll get you those coffees for the month, just like we promised.” You couldn’t help the sad smile that played on your lips as you answered him, so sure that he was about to say something else.

“No, I mean… Y/N I don’t want the coffee. I want this. I want us to go home, and make everything that you made up come true. I want to take you on a date to that coffee shop. I want to be a boyfriend you can call and tell your mom about because it’s serious and it’s going to work out between us. I even… God, I even spent the morning looking up book fairs in New York City so I could make that come true as well,” he rambled the words out and you could feel the tears forming in your eyes.

“Spencer,” you said softly, trying to get him to focus on you, but he’d started speaking and he wasn’t going to be stopped so easily.

“And if any of that creeps you out, just say the word and I’ll never mention it again. Because I know I’m not good with this, and when I feel something, I tend to feel it overwhelmingly, and Derek tells me I can be really oblivious sometimes, which I don’t really get, but-”

“Spencer,” you put a bit more force into your words this time, punctuating them with a hand on his face.

“Spencer, kiss me.” And he does. He takes your head in both of his hands, and he draws you up to him perfectly, letting your hands fall to the lapels of his suit jacket as he steals your breath away one more time. The kiss is lingering, but short, and he hesitantly backs away, looking around to spot witnesses. But you don’t care and you pull him back down for another, and another, until you’re just two lovers on the dance floor that cannot get enough of each other, gasping for breath between chaste kisses as you let him hold you there, gently swaying.

“Spencer,” you whisper finally, forehead resting on his, as the song finally draws to a close.

“Yes?”

“Spencer, take me to bed.” You tell him, and he nods. He leads you over to the bride and groom where you offer each of them a hug and a happy future before making your excuses and running away with Spencer back into the hotel like two love-drunk teenagers, a mess of giggles and stolen kisses as you stumble up to your room for the second time that weekend.

But this time, you don’t hesitate, don’t pull away. He backs you into the door and you let him hold you there, his mouth on yours, your tongues entwined as he fumbles for his key card. You fall together into the room, laughing and smiling the entire way, not letting him escape your touch.

“May I?” He asks, playing with the zipper of your dress as you kiss his cheek, his jaw, his neck, anywhere you can reach, nodding and moaning your consent. The moment the zip is pulled down, he lets you go for a second, and the dress falls straight to the floor. You're practically bare in front of him, chest exposed, neck littered with the beginning of love bites that he’s about to absolutely build upon.

“You’re beautiful.” He says, softly, wrapping his arms around you again, lifting you up so your legs can wrap around him as he delivers one more soul-crushing kiss to your lips. Your brain is a mess of emotions, your only solid thought is that you will never let him go again. You both eagerly worked on unbuttoning his shirt together, a desperate mess of breaths as he finally laid you on the bed. His hand fell to your core, tracing a finger over your sensitive nub as you begged him for more, needing to feel all of him, to devour his very existence.

He pulled himself out of his remaining clothes, lips still attached to yours, climbing over you and holding you tenderly, his arms wrapping around your body as his legs came to settle between your own. Dropping his forehead to yours, he finally spoke again, his hand dropping between the two of you to line himself up.

“Is this… are you sure?” You heard the restraint in his voice, the desperation, the love, the overwhelming lust as he held himself back, needing to hear your consent.

“Spencer, I love you,” you whispered, and he finally pushed himself into you, joining the two of you together in a moment of bliss. You shared another sweet kiss, letting him swallow each and every one of your moans as he began thrusting into you, your hips rising to meet him in your delirious pleasure.

He whispered sweet nothings in your ears, brushing the hair off your face every now and again to tell you how beautiful you looked, and how well you were doing.

“You’re so perfect, Y/N, you’re doing so good for me,” he pressed kisses against your neck with each word, keeping his pace steady as you chased your inevitable high, already clenching around his thick cock.

“Spencer, I love you,” you let the words drop from your tongue like a prayer, repeating them over and over with each thrust as small tears welled up out of your eyes. He kissed them away from your cheeks, listening to each confession as your stomach tightened and your climax spilled over you. He grabbed your waist then, leaving one hand cupping and stroking your cheek as his own thrusts grew sloppy, finally spending himself fully inside you.

“I love you, too,” he whispered into you then, unwilling to let you go for even one second. You spent the rest of the night whispering the words back and forth to one another, waiting with bated breath for the fantasy to break, for the magic of the wedding to wear off.

It never did.

[decentwritings]

Chapter 2

Summary: You’re unable to grasp the luck you have. You were raised to run from danger, to go the opposite direction of bad influences. So when you somehow find yourself right in the center of it, you discover that running wasn’t exactly what you were taught. It only took GhostFace and a pretty girl to remember that.

previous part <- -> next part

You twist the ring around your finger—a nervous habit you've developed since you got it last month. You were never a jewelry person but this ring means something. You can't find it in yourself to take it off. It seems to happen at random now, not just when you're anxious. The ring itself is light, but it feels heavy with the weight of what it represents.

There's a bulb above you that hasn't stopped flickering since you sat down. A buzzing sound flickers with it, and with each flicker, your patience wears thin. Usually, you can out wait anyone but your lack of sleep makes you easily irritable.

"Okay," Detective Bailey walks into the room, a manila folder in hand. You don't react, your eyes tracking him as he sits across from you, flashing that crooked smile. "Dennis," he says, his voice attempting a warmth that doesn't reach his eyes.

You don't bother correcting him, blinking.

"Just trying to ease the tension," he says, flipping through the file. He pulls out a sheet of paper and raises it to eye level. You can see your name printed neatly at the top corner. "Looks like you're a model citizen."

"Or just really good at not getting caught," you mutter under your breath. His eyebrow arches as he looks at you. You meet his gaze with an innocent expression.

He lets out a quiet huff, shaking his head before continuing. "The only question I have for you is," he pauses, resting the paper on the table as he leans in slightly, "how did they reel you into this?"

You raise your hands in mock disbelief. "Horrible timing," you say, deadpan, before adding with more sarcasm, "Rebellion. My cousin is dating the older one, the small one has adorable eyes, and I'm gay."

Bailey's mouth opens, then closes. He stares at you, clearly taken aback. His lips purse as he tries to process your response, and for a moment, he's at a loss. His mouth moves, but no sound comes out, like a fish gasping for air.

You just smile faintly, enjoying the brief moment where you've knocked him off balance.

Luckily for him, the door behind Bailey swings open. "FBI's here. They're claiming jurisdiction," a voice calls out from the doorway, prompting him to straighten up.

Bailey stands, gathering the files in one swift motion, and gestures for you to follow him. You roll your eyes in irritation, but you get up anyway, trailing behind him. He leads you into what you assume is his workstation, a cluttered space strewn with documents and loose papers. Your curiosity gets the better of you, and as you pass his desk, you glance down at the open files.

Before you can take in much, Bailey's hands slam down onto the top file, the sharp crack of it startling you. "Those are confidential," he says, his tone sharper, angrier than before. There's something in his voice—almost like he's been caught in the middle of something.

People are defensive because they're guilty, you recall from your American Literature class. The thought lingers as you raise your hands, feigning innocence.

Bailey's scowl deepens, and your eyes track his every movement as he approaches a short blonde woman nearby. He doesn't seem pleased by her presence, the irritation still evident in his furrowed brow and tight jaw. The scowl remains even as the woman greets Sam with a warm hug, her cheerfulness standing in stark contrast to his simmering frustration.

You take the opportunity of his distraction to check the first file, at least. You read over the name then see the highlighted address. You aren't sure what this Dr. Christopher Stone has to do with this case, but you aren't able to dig into it much when you hear someone call your name.

You shut the folder quickly, turning to face the voice. Bailey waves you over, and you jog over to join them.

Tara smiles, appearing relieved to see you. You can only offer her a smile back before the short blonde woman introduces herself.

"Special Agent Kirby Reed," she extends her hand towards you.

You take her hand in yours, shaking hers. "Cool. Like the video game character?" you can't help but ask.

Sam sends you a glare, so does her sister.

Kirby chuckles. "Yes. Like the video game character," she smiles, making sure they know she wasn't bothered by your question. She turns to Bailey. "But like I was saying, I'm not looking to get into a jurisdictional pissing contest here, I just want to help. I'll show you mine...et cetera."

You look between the two, and the hesitance from the man makes you question him.

Another cop comes over, handing over some evidence to Bailey. He shares it with Kirby, not that he has a choice. He shows her the file too, discussing where the mask was discovered. The name Charlie Walker and Jill Roberts comes up and three of them appear to know what it means. You and Bailey on the other hand, are a little lost.

"The GhostFace Killers of 2011. Charlie Walker gave me this," Kirby explains and lifts her shirt to show a scar on her stomach. You look but Bailey looks away like she's showing a different part of her body. She lowers her shirt, glancing between you all. "Like I said, I take a special interest. Is this the mask he was wearing when he attacked you?"

Sam and Tara shake their heads while you say, "I don't know."

All eyes fall on you and you lift your hands up, lost once again.

"It looks like every GhostFace mask I've seen at the store," you defend, crossing your arms defensively. You see a clock behind Bailey's head. "And I haven't slept."

Bailey sighs. "Okay, but this actually mean he's leaving them on purpose."

Kirby sends you a sympathetic glance. "Which means whoever's doing this is a student of the killers who came before. Maybe he believes Sam is the latest in a long line?"

"Good luck to both of you, but we're getting out of the city," Sam says, tugging her sister with her as she walks.

You follow close behind, like a lost puppy. You don't plan to leave the city but you don't want to be left alone here.

"Actually, that's not possible," Bailey's words halt Sam's movements. "You're persons of interest in a double homicide, so... you're not allowed to leave town. Sorry."

"Me, too?" you ask, pointing at yourself.

Bailey nods.

"Are you kidding?" Tara scoffs.

Kirby shakes her head. "He's right. But if we work together–"

"I'm not working with anyone," Sam's voice is firm, as well as her glare. "We're going." She tugs Tara along with her.

You come across Danny as you get closer to the exit. He looks relieved to see you, and his girlfriend. But Sam ignores him, like he isn't even there.

Your cousin orders you to follow him, so wordlessly you follow. When you exit, the sun is practically shoving the new day in your face. You shield your eyes, squinting as you navigate the steps. Your lack of sleep is making you cranky and upon exiting, there are reporters who don't help your mood.

Your jaw clenches as you try to find a way to push past them. Its difficult for you and Danny, but you know Sam and Tara have it harder since its them they care more for. You feel Tara cling to you. In support or just to see if you're there, you're not sure. But you offer a squeeze to her hand and lead her and her sister out of the chaos.

There's a pull on your hand and you come to a stop. You're not sure why.

"Gale Weathers, Channel 4! Do you ladies think you're the reason the GhostFace Killer has come to the Big Apple?"

You stand off to the side as Sam steps up to the woman. You raise your brow, feeling the tension but not sure why there is any between Sam and this stranger. Sam stares at Gale, standing there, mic outstretched then swings at her. Gale ducks in time to avoid the punch, making it look easy.

"Nice try, sweetie, but I've done this dance before–"

Your eyes widen and feel Tara release your hand then lunges to sucker punch the woman. You let out a "oooh" along with everyone else watching, unable to control a laugh escaping you.

"Stay away from us," Tara warns, eyes hard.

There are so many questions on the tip of your tongue, but Danny pushes you to move. You laugh but walk away, allowing the sisters to have a conversation with the woman Tara punched.

"That was awesome," you laugh, glancing back at them. "That made my day. I'm gonna go now."

You feel your shirt be pulled on, forcing you to remain in your spot. You groan, glaring at Danny.

Danny shakes his head. "I gotta head to work," he says. "You going to be alright?"

"I'm gotta go to my sister's," you inform Danny, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. "She's on her anniversary vacation, so I have to walk her dogs."

"Mindy wants us all to meet up," Tara chimes in, announcing their return, then shows her sister the message on her phone. "All of us." She looks at you, clearly trying to rally the troops.

Danny pats your arm. "Go with them. I don't want you to be alone," he says, his eyes pleading.

You take a step closer and lower your voice. "I don't wanna," you whisper, shaking your head emphatically. He stares back at you, deadpan. "Don't make me go," you add, your voice a mix of desperation and stubbornness.

"They're going with you," Danny insists, looking at Sam and Tara with a hint of authority. You clench your fists and jaw, shooting him a glare that says you're not at all pleased with this plan.

He pats your shoulder, a small smile on his lips. "Take care. I'll check on your sister's dogs." With that, he walks off, leaving you standing there with the sisters, feeling a bit like a kid being handed off to babysitters.

You can't seem to escape from this circle. When you turn to face the sisters, they only nod then begin to walk away. You follow closely behind, expecting Tara to bring up the conversation they couldn't have a few hours ago. You stay close behind them, but not to close to get involved in the conversation.

"So..." Tara begins, tone returning to that iciness she had before. "Girlfriend? You're seeing cute boy from across the hall?" she begins, crossing her arms defensively.

You can't control the scoff that escapes your lips, hearing them refer your cousin as "cute boy." You purse your lips when they glance back at you, feigning interest in your surroundings.

"Yes," Sam answers her sister, stopping at the end of the street. They wait until it's clear to cross the street before continuing. "Look, I'm sorry, Tara, but I didn't want you to know because I wasn't even sure what it was."

Tara raises a brow, not satisfied with the answer. "Not sure what it was? Sam, he went to look for you, knowing there's a killer out there to get you," you bite your tongue to avoid intervening, to say you were actually the one who saved them both but...

"Tara, it's more complicated than that," Sam shakes her head. "Why are we even talking about this now? There's a killer on the loose and you're worried about my love life?"

Tara rolls her eyes. "Yes because it's not just about that. It's about trust," she says, scoffing at her sister. "I can't be left alone for one night, much less an hour without having you search for me like a dog. And you go on and have a boyfriend and don't bother mentioning even the possibility of something? I'm your sister and you don't trust me."

Sam clenches her jaw, unable to come up with a response.

"I want to know what's going on in your life, not find out through random encounters," Tara says, voice soft now

You can see it in Tara's face, as her expression shifts from annoyance to concern, her icy facade thawing just a bit. It's actually kind of sweet, in a way. You find yourself rooting for their sisterly bond—if only to distract yourself from the fact that you have no idea how to navigate your own emotions right now. Plus, your dad forced you and your siblings to get along so you always root for the sibling bond to grow, not dissipate.

"Okay, okay," Sam concedes, sighing quietly. "You're right. I'll tell you everything when things settle down. But first, can we just focus on surviving the day?"

Tara nods, allowing her sister to pull her in to her side. She relaxes in her sister's embrace, and you smile at the sight.

"Is there a chance we can stop by my dorm?" You speak up, interrupting the sister bond. They glance back at you as they continue to walk. "I need to get out of these clothes. I'm ninety percent sure I stink."

"I can reassure," Tara says, "its one hundred percent."

You frown, shoulders slumping and you hear the sisters giggle. You lift your arm to get a whiff and hate to admit it, but the Carpenter is right. And you groan when your college campus comes to view. You huff, realizing you were meeting Mindy on campus which is just a short distance from your dorm. You plan to sneak off at the earliest convenience.

You take a seat to the redhead's right, trying to maintain a distance, mainly to avoid her smelling your BO.

Mindy begins her rant and, honestly, you zone out, exhausted and drained from the last twelve hours. You know she's discussing the plot of what this killer may be wanting to run but you aren't all that invested on what some fanatics have planned. If someone wants to murder you, plan or not, run, right? If there isn't anything you can do to stop them, you sure as hell can run from them.

"We're in a franchise!" You flinch at the sudden raise of voice. You rub your eyes and shake your head, doing your best to get rid of your drowsiness. "And there are certain rules to a continuing franchise."

"I had a feeling," Sam comments.

"Rule One, everything is bigger than last time. Bigger budget, bigger cast, bigger body count; longer chases, shoot-outs, beheadings–"

"Beheadings?" Chad looks up from his notebook. You tilt your head, suddenly noticing he's the only one taking notes.

Mindy nods, "you gotta top what came before to keep people coming back!" she exclaims like it obvious. "Now, rule two, whatever happened before, expect the opposite. Franchises only survive by subverting expectations; if the killers last time were whiny snowflake film nerds with Letterboxd accounts instead of personalities, you can bet the opposite will be true here."

You glance at the rest of the group, trying to read their expressions. The only one showing any kind of distress is Ethan, and that's practically his natural state. This is Anika's girlfriend and you can't help but wonder how she puts up with this girl's energy everyday.

You feel a headache surfacing.

Rule three is no one is safe, which doesn't ring well for you. You're going to be really pissed if you die before you graduate college. You did not put all your time and effort in the last two years for your life to end without receiving a degree. Plus, the move to New York was in hopes to finish faster. You can't finish if you're dead.

Mindy clasps her hands. "That means it's not just the friend group, any of us could go at any time, especially Sam and Tara."

You looks between the sisters, watching them share a look.

"That's comforting," you mutter, announcing your presence. The looks you receive from everyone but Sam and Tara is all questionable.

"Wait, any of us? Am I in the friend group? Am I one of the targets?" Ethan pulls the attention away from you. "Am I gonna die a virgin?"

"Weird overshare, but that brings us to our current suspects," Mindy looks at the boy who spoke, "Ethan. The shy dorky guy who no one suspects, because he's so shy and dorky."

Ethan looks offended. "Why am I on the list? Because I'm randomly Chad's roommate?"

You shake your head, still in disbelief. That guy's name is Chad. When he first introduced himself to you, you had to make sure you heard him correctly. Anika made you promise not to make fun of him for it. You held back during the meet but when you returned to your dorm, you released all the jokes in your chamber. Anika would never admit it, but she actually laughed.

"Roommate lotteries can be juked, you could have fixed it to get next to us," Mindy shrugs, then turns to look at the redhead sitting beside you. "Quinn. The slutty roommate. A horror movie classic."

Quinn, that's her name, you think.

"'Sex positive,' but thank you!" Quinn smiles.

"And how did you come to live with Sam and Tara?" Mindy questions, eyebrow quirking but doesn't wait for a response. "An ad online? Oh please. Don't talk, you have implicated yourself enough."

Tara shakes her head. "Mindy, it was an anonymous ad online, and you know we vetted her," she defends her roommate, who seems grateful. "Plus, her dad's a cop–"

"Your dad's Detective Bailey?" You lean over to ask her in a whisper. She raises a brow but nods. "I have so many questions–"

"Which makes it more likely she's the killer because having a Cop Dad is a great cover;" Mindy sends Tara an exasperated glare, one the girl frowns at. "Do you not remember how these movies work? And finally, Anika," she moves on.

You look at your roommate and smile at the kiss she blows her girlfriend.

Mindy smiles. "Never trust the love interest." she deadpans. She turns to you and you stare back at her like a lost puppy. "I don't know what category you fall under," she admits.

"How about innocent background actor who can't seem to escape the story no matter what?" You offer but Mindy doesn't seem convinced. "I just wanna go home." you relent.

"I don't buy it," Mindy mutters, squinting her eyes. "What's your major?" she asks, surprising you.

"English," you reply, expecting the snorts of laughter from your fellow students. "I just need a degree, I don't care what kind."

Mindy smiles, like she pieced it together. "I got it," she claps and you shake your head in annoyance. "Its a cover, to get close to us by having Anika invite you to the party last night."

"I forced them to go," Anika speaks up in your defense, sending her a pointed glare. You don't question it and send her a grateful look. "Plus, they have a car and we needed a designated driver," she shrugs.

You remember your car. "Aww, my baby," you say to yourself, though loud enough for them all to hear. "Can I go now? I really don't have anything to do with this. My cousin is dating Sam, that's all the connection there is."

"Your cousin?" Chad asks.

"Danny, cute boy across the hall," you answer and Sam covers her face the moment they all bombard her with questions.

"This is bad, really bad then," Mindy says suddenly, ending the barrel of questions for Sam. They all frown in question. "Another suspect added to the list, how are we suppose to narrow it down?"

"By taking me and Danny out," you say, standing up slowly, afraid of passing out from lack of sleep. "Or maybe just me, because I'm out. This is not my horror movie–I've never even seen a horror movie, so whatever trope that's going on, I'm missing it."

"Oooh, twist!" Mindy shouts and you're beginning to lose your patience. "You've never seen a horror movie, which makes you the perfect candidate for the 'unwitting hero' trope. The one who doesn't even know they're in the game until it's too late. Classic!"

You sigh, unable to control your curiosity. "That can't be a thing," you state at first, but as seconds tick by with silence, it becomes a question. "Right?"

"Oh, it totally is," Mindy counters, eyes wide with excitement. "You're not some side character. You're the wildcard! The one no one sees coming because you're too 'out of it.'" She emphasizes the last part with air quotes, as if she's cracked some secret code.

You rub your temples, feeling a headache coming on. "I'm not a wildcard, I'm just tired. And I need to go check on my car and, you know, live my normal life, away from all this slasher nonsense."

Mindy steps closer to you. "Sorry to break it to you," she pauses to read your name tag, "Dennis, but once you're in, you're in."

Tara stands, stepping forward, tone soft. "Look, I get it. But right now, none of us can just walk away. GhostFace isn't gonna stop because you don't want to be involved."

Sam, remaining in her spot, obviously just as exhausted as you, nods. "They're right. Whoever this is, they've targeted us. All of us." She looks at you pointedly. "I get that you didn't ask for any of this, but neither did we."

You glance between them all, torn between bolting to your car, to your dorm, to your sister's house–anywhere but here or staying, caught in the gravity of their shared fear. It's true—you didn't ask for this, and you definitely don't want to be anyone's secret weapon or wildcard. Let alone be the supposed hero they expect you to be. But the look in Sam's eyes tells you something important: no one's getting out of this alone. And well, Tara's eyes are your weakness so with just one look, she's reeled you in again.

With a heavy sigh, you slump back into your chair. "Fine. I'll stay," you say, getting shout of excitement from Chad. He raises his hand, waiting for a high five. "But just know, if it comes down to it, I'll push any of you in front of GhostFace without hesitation."

You high five Chad's hand and he lowers his hand slowly, unsatisfied with the gesture. He stares at his hand like you assaulted it instead of honored it.

Mindy hums at your comment. "Fair enough," she mutters. "Welcome to the team, hero Dennis!"

You peel the fake name tag off your shirt immediately after.

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

Spencer Reid x Read fic. Reid and Reader are friends, like best friends. Reader is always offering Reid donuts and listening to his fun facts and info dumps. It's one of those, they both like each other, but also are convinced the other doesn't like them.

Spencer is taking care of a slightly drunk reader whose grandmother called and asked why they're not engaged when they're younger sibling is married and expecting a child. At some point Spencer makes his ever classic comment about how it's safer to kiss and drunk reader, before being able to think, kisses Spencer. I hope that made sense.

OOPS I DID EXACTLY THAT

Safer to Kiss (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Word Count: 2899

Warnings: Mentions of food, drinking alcohol, mild cursing, outdated expectations of women, and lots of pining

A/N: Hi I wrote this in 2 hours and was extremely entertained, please enjoy and if you send me a fic request I'll probably do it bc this is my hyperfixation hobby right now and very much keeping the demons at bay xD @bxm-1012 thank you for dropping by my inbox! I am VERY tempted to make a part 2 of this, I hope you enjoy! c:

-----

The whole expiration date thing that women faced was, in your humble opinion, complete and utter bullshit. Here you were, slowly approaching thirty (definitely still told people you were twenty-five, when, in fact, you were actually twenty-eight), and the biological clock was ticking. No, you didn’t want kids. Not right now, anyway. Not when you were only two years into your career as a profiler for the FBI’s prestigious Behavioral Analysis Unit. Not when you still had tons of things to check off your bucket list - go to Europe, visit an independent bookstore in every state, pilot a helicopter. 

And you didn’t buy into that whole ‘once a woman hits thirty, her stock plummets’ crap. Not usually, anyway. 

But Nan’s phone calls always left you questioning your existence. 

Back home in Ohio, your little sister, Kendra, had just announced her pregnancy. Three years younger than you (ironically, the age you told everyone you were), and married to a power plant manager, Kendra was living the dream of a woman from the 1950s. You tried your best not to look down on it, to wish for more for her - but Kendra was happy. She’d always wanted to be a mother, and you couldn’t imagine anyone better suited for the role. There was nothing wrong with wanting to be a wife and a mother, to devoting one’s life to it. You reminded yourself of that every time you spoke to Kendra. You especially reminded yourself of it every time you spoke to Nan. 

That sympathetic tone your grandmother used when she said, “Oh, Button, you’ll find someone eventually, and you’ll be just as happy as Kenny” was like nails on a chalkboard. You resisted the urge to gag into your speakerphone and simultaneously rip your grandmother a new one. You wanted so badly to explain to her that you were perfectly fulfilled with your life. 

You helped lock up bad guys on a weekly basis, you wanted to remind Nan. Your brain was one of few that had been chosen for a task force that caught criminals based on their behavior. It was amazing, working for the BAU, bouncing ideas off of your colleagues, finding a family within this small group of people that spent more than forty hours a week together. 

Nan didn’t see it that way. She wanted you to be just like Kendra. She wanted you to have that white picket fence in the suburbs, with a broad-shouldered husband and two little tykes running at your feet. Domestic bliss just wasn’t in the cards for you, you’d decided. And that was okay.

You were still reeling from your conversation with Nan the night before when you walked in to work on Monday morning. It was Derek who caught the raging RBF first. “Woah, pretty girl. Pump. Your. Brakes.” He said, halting you just as you entered the BAU’s bullpen, holding a hand up to stop you. 

“Good morning to you, too, Derek,” You flashed him a phony grin, and he rolled his eyes. 

“And you’re grumpy this morning… why, exactly?” Derek asked, turning to walk beside you, essentially escorting you to your desk. 

“Because I’m allowed to be?” You proffered, shrugging your shoulders, not really wanting to talk about it with him. You loved Derek - hell, you loved all your coworkers - but he was not the person you wanted to go to with these thoughts. You didn’t really want to talk to anyone about it, actually. You just wanted to ride the cranky train until it came to a complete stop. 

Emily was returning from the kitchenette with a fresh mug of coffee and decided that the conversation concerned her as well. “What’s going on?” she asked. 

“Y/L/N’s wearing her cranky pants this morning,” Derek filled her in. 

“Oh, those so don’t match your blouse, Y/N,” Emily teased, winking at you with a smirk before looking at Derek. “Cut her some slack. No one likes Mondays.” Derek held up his palms defensively. “Alright, alright. Forgive me for being a concerned citizen.” 

“It’s appreciated,” You told Derek genuinely before setting your bag down at your desk. “But unnecessary.” 

It wasn’t until later in the morning, around ten, that anyone bothered you about your obvious bad mood again. This time it was Spencer, the one person you couldn’t possibly be annoyed with. He rolled on his desk chair around the partition that separated your workspaces, holding his hand out expectantly, like he usually did this time of day. 

Without speaking, you opened the bottom drawer of your desk and pulled out the white bag of mini powdered donuts that you always kept in stock. They were your guilty pleasure snack, and one of the first things you and Spencer bonded over when you started at the BAU two years ago. That, and the fact that you were the closest agents in age, was how you got along so well so quickly. Over several cases, varying in degrees of intensity, you and Spencer became really great friends. Best friends, actually. 

There wasn’t anyone else in your life that you trusted more than Spencer Reid. 

You opened the bag of powdered donuts and shook one haphazardly into Spencer’s palm, then grabbed one for yourself. Silently, you cheers-ed your donuts together, and ate them simultaneously, making weird-but-comfortable eye contact as you did. 

“Derek says you’re in a bad mood today,” Spencer pointed out with a teasing smirk on his face. A smirk, and white sugar blanketing his upper lip.

“Derek’s full of shit,” you grinned after swallowing your snack, the smile on your face totally facetious. “I’m extremely happy.” 

“I can tell,” Spencer snickered as you set the powdered donuts back in your snack drawer, closing it with a clank. You watched as he brought both of his legs up into his desk chair, crossing them like a kindergartner. 

The action made your stomach flutter. You’d felt strongly about Spencer for a really long time, probably a year and half, if you had to try and pinpoint it. But there was no use in going down that road with him. For one thing, he was your best friend, and you didn’t want to risk flushing the best relationship in your life down the toilet. For another thing, you knew it was one hundred percent impossible that he could feel the same way. 

“What’d you do this weekend?” Spencer asked, and you could tell by the question that he was trying to discover the source of your poor attitude. 

“Stayed home, caught up on chores,” You said, crossing your knees and leaning back in your seat, your expression telling him that you knew exactly what he was doing. As much fun as playing mind games with Spencer was, you decided to throw him a bone. “Spoke to my grandmother on the phone last night.” 

Spencer nodded understandingly. “Say no more,” he said with a chuckle. “She gave you the whole ‘when are you going to get married’ spiel again?” 

You nodded. “Unfortunately. I usually don’t let it bother me, but for some reason it’s just, like, lurking in the back of my mind today.” You shrugged your shoulders and exhaled through your nose. “What about you?” You asked. 

“What about me?” Spencer arched a brow, and you rolled your eyes playfully. 

“What’d you do this weekend?” 

“Oh,” Spencer began, pursing his lips for a moment, like he was hesitant to tell you. “I actually went on a date.” 

Your stomach flipped. “Oh yeah?” You choked out, forcing a smile. “Who with?” 

“That girl, Lisa, from the coffee shop, the one you told me wouldn’t stop ‘ogling my boy band hair’,” Spencer held up air quotes when he repeated your words from memory.

You recalled the cute barista from the coffee shop just down the highway from Quantico, a popular morning stop for agents on their way to work. You tried to stop the jealousy from turning your blood into fire. “How was it?” You asked, trying to resist the urge to sit on the edge of your seat, trying not to hang on his every word. 

Spencer shrugged his shoulders. “It was okay. She was very nice, but there just wasn’t…” he trailed off, gesticulating as the words failed to come to that supercomputer brain of his. 

“It was like a donut without powdered sugar on it?” You suggested with a small chuckle.

“Yeah,” Spencer agreed, nodding, meeting your eyes and smiling, mildly amused. “Exactly.” 

Spencer went back to his desk a few minutes later, and the rest of the day went on. It was quiet, especially for a day at the BAU. There were, weirdly enough, no open cases right now, so you spent the day catching up on paperwork, which there was always plenty of. 

You caught the elevator about ten minutes after five with Spencer in tow, and you held the door open for him. It was just the two of you as you made the descent from the sixth floor, and Spencer leaned against the back wall. “Plans tonight?” He asked. 

“Not really, no,” You said, shaking your head. “Why, you want to do something?” You asked. 

Spencer nodded. “There’s this landscape and nature photography exhibit at one of the galleries downtown,” he said. “Might be fun. There’s this artist, Milton Harvell, who takes photos of renowned locations around the world but zooms in on an obscure detail and gives the framed photograph to the person who correctly guesses the location.” 

You smiled slowly at that. You loved it when Spencer went off on one of his tangents. You found it completely adorable. “It’s actually quite fascinating,” Spencer went on, an amused tone lining his voice, making it sound lighter. “Kind of like a Where’s Waldo, but in reverse. There was this one photograph he took of the Louvre in Paris, but he zoomed in really tightly on a young boy enjoying an ice cream cone. He even went so far as to edit the photograph to make it look like it was a different time of day. The four thousand and eighth person to view the photograph was the person who guessed the correct location.” Spencer’s head bobbed and he was smiling like an idiot. 

God, you were down bad. 

“Was the four thousand and eighth person… you?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at him scrupulously and allowing a teasing grin to cross your face. 

“The photo’s hanging in my living room,” he confirmed. 

You laughed softly. “Will there be alcohol at this function?” You asked him, and he nodded. 

That was all you needed to hear. 

— — —

You and Spencer went straight to the art gallery from work, sharing a cab rather than bothering with your cars. You immediately bought a glass of red wine, and began to follow him around the gallery. You weren’t an art aficionado, not by any means, but you enjoyed looking at beautiful things, and you especially enjoyed spending time with Spencer that wasn’t hunched over a dead body or trying to map out a killer’s comfort zone. It was a rare occurrence, so you tried to soak it all up as much as possible. 

Plus, your Nan’s words were still lingering in the back of your head. It’ll happen for you someday, Button. Men just don’t find you strong, career types attractive. Maybe you should soften up your look a little. 

You downed your first glass of wine within ten minutes, and caught one of the catering staff passing out champagne almost instantaneously after. The champagne fizzled down your throat as you strolled with Spencer through the art gallery, listening intently as he went on about each piece, rattling off whatever contextual knowledge he had. But you were a little bit biased; you could listen to him list different types of soil and find it interesting. 

After the glass of champagne came another glass of champagne, and by the time you made it to the main exhibit Spencer wanted to see, your cheeks were flushed. It wasn’t that you couldn’t hold your alcohol; rather, it just made you a little bit silly. Your inhibitions were lowered, just like it would affect anyone. But with your arm looped through Spencer’s and your Nan’s nagging message still in the back of your mind, you were perhaps a little more loose than usual. 

As Spencer examined the exhibit, you tapped your foot, unable to keep still, and scanned the open space. Your eyes landed on another patron of the gallery, a conventionally handsome man about your age, and you found yourself unlooping your arm from Spencer’s, subconsciously not wanting to appear taken. 

“Are you gonna go talk to that guy?” Spencer asked, and you snapped your eyes back to his. “Because you can, if you want to. Don’t let me stop you.” 

It was almost like he was daring you to. Spencer’s jaw seemed tense as you examined his expression, the way his gorgeous brown eyes darted from the man and back to you. “You don’t mind?” You asked, arching a brow, almost like a challenge.

Spencer shook his head, his lips pursed. “Not at all. I’ll wait here for you?” 

You nodded, and turned towards the man. There wasn’t any harm in getting a guy’s number, right? Your feelings for Spencer were a lost cause, anyway. Plus, as Nan liked to point out, you weren’t getting any younger. 

The man’s eyes locked on yours and he seemed to understand that you were about to speak with him. He met you halfway, and you shook his hand. “Malcolm Greene,” he introduced himself, and you spouted off your own name in return. “You’re not here with that guy?” He asked, jerking his chin over to Spencer. Your eyes followed Malcolm’s, and you saw Spencer with his body turned towards the photography exhibit, but his head turned to the side, as if he were keeping an eye on you with his peripheral vision. 

“Yeah, I am,” you said, and Malcolm’s head inclined to the side. “I am. I’m here with that guy,” you panicked, suddenly realizing in that moment that you weren’t interested in speaking with Malcolm. No, you had absolutely no interest in spending your time with any other man but Spencer Reid. “I just, uh…” Your cheeks flushed, and you stifled an awkward laugh, anxiously trying to come up with some excuse. “I came over here to tell you that your shoe was united.” 

Your eyes followed Malcolm’s down to his shoes, which were loafers. Laceless loafers. Malcolm’s mouth opened as if to point this out to you, but you managed to stammer words out first. “Ok, well, have a great night, goodbye!” You turned on your heel and marched back over to Spencer, your cheeks red as you reached out for his arm. 

Spencer furrowed his brows down at you as your arm gripped his. “I need another glass of wine,” you confessed. 

Twenty minutes later, after two more glasses of wine and a very watchful eye out for Malcolm, you and Spencer left the art gallery. You were awfully giggly on the cab ride back to your place, cracking puns and humming along to the radio intermittently. Spencer seemed to be amused, but more so concerned with getting you home in one piece. 

As he walked you up the stairs to the door of your apartment building, he was teasing you about your conversation with Malcolm, which you still hadn’t told him completely about. “I still can’t believe you didn’t get his number. You were talking with him for exactly two minutes and twelve seconds. What, in that short of an amount of time, could have turned you off to him so quickly?” He pondered aloud, a playfully mocking tone lining his voice. 

“Listen, I shook his hand! I had my fun!” You exclaimed, bursting into laughter as you leaned against the handrail of the stairs that led up to the door. “Good, clean fun!” 

“You know, the number of pathogens that are passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to kiss someone,” Spencer rattled off, and your eyes snapped to meet his. 

You don’t know what took you over. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the way the street lamps reflected in the irises of his eyes, or how you stood just a few inches away from him. Maybe it was his stupid tweed blazer, how he looked like a tenured art history professor despite barely being thirty years old. Maybe it was the way he smelled like pine and printer ink, a combination you wouldn’t have ever thought was attractive. 

But when Spencer said that, you stood up on your toes and kissed him. It was slow and innocent at first, until it passed the border into lingering, and Spencer’s hands found your hips, pulling your body closer to his. There was a cool night breeze that filtered through the space between your bodies, and by the time you pulled your lips away from Spencer’s, and slowly opened your eyes, you were completely red in the face and breathless. 

No, that certainly wasn’t the safest choice you could have made.

——

read part 2 here

[mountainsandmayhem]

Netflix & Chill

Marcus Pike x Female Reader

18+, MDNI

Summary: You spend your fifth date with Marcus at his place watching Netflix.

Or

You might be in your thirties, but you can still Netflix and Chill.

Warnings: fluffy smut. Kissing. Little bit of dirty talk. Fully clothed. Marcus just being the love of my life the entire time.

AN: Don’t look at me. Don’t talk to me. I am too busy having my brain absolutely disintegrated by thoughts of Agent Pike. I am sick over him. Down bad. Wanting to rip off my arms and beat myself senseless with them over him. Leave me alone!! But also leave me nice comments because I’m a slut with a praise kink lol. Thank you so much for reading 🤎

Graphics and dividers by @saradika-graphics

Moodboard by me

“Oh god,” you whimper, both of you are fully dressed. You’re caged under his strong body as he pushes his hips down on you. You can feel his cock through his grey sweats and your thin, black yoga pants. The credits of whatever movie you were watching rolled in the background.

“Is this ok?” He asks, kissing at your neck and earlobe. The soft, fuzzy brown blanket falls around both of you, encasing you in his earthy and citrus scent.

“Ya, please don’t stop.” You writhe under him, feeling that familiar tingly pressure building. He smiles into the crook of your neck.

It was your fifth date with Marcus Pike, FBI agent and potential man of your dreams. In his younger years, he probably would have already slept with you by now. But age has made him a man of patience and waiting. Only giving what he’s willing to let go of, what he can nurture and grow. And for the first time in a long time, he thinks that might be you.

“I won’t stop, baby.”

Baby, shit. He panics internally. He’s only called you by your name until now. He nervously looks over at you and you smile sleepily.

“I like that,” you mumble.

“Which part?” He asks his voice like warm oil along your skin. “Me grinding into what I’m sure is the most beautiful pussy in the world, or the kisses on your soft, slender, vanilla scented neck, or me calling you baby?”

Your legs start to shake around him as you pull him in to kiss him hard. You sweep your tongue along his bottom lip. He tastes like the popcorn and expensive Cabernet Sauvignon you were both drinking.

“All of it,” you say between kisses.

He pulls away, bringing his hands to your face and gently wiping the few loose hairs that stick to your skin, then drags the tip of his nose down yours before resting his forehead against yours.

“You’re truly so beautiful. I’m so happy I met you, baby.” He pushes his hips into you harder and a pornographic moan fills the room as the trailer for whatever Netflix is suggesting next plays. “Sound so pretty too.”

“Marcus,” you say wantonly.

“I know. I’m here.” He says, eyes still locked on yours, one thumb making sweet, soft circles on your cheek while his other slips behind your head.

Your hands bunch into his white t-shirt. “I’m gonna cum,” you moan, letting his coca-cola coloured eyes wash over you, and drench your whole body in carbonated pleasure. Sparkling, bubbling, fizzing over the edge.

“I’m right here, honey.” He whispers, pushing into you a little faster. Your body jolts into his as you suck in quick, shallow breaths.

“Ohgodohgod. Mar-Marcus,” your walls clench tightly around nothing as he hits at your puffy, sensitive clit through your pants at the perfect tempo and pressure.

“Relax, baby. I got you.” He encourages and then you fall apart for him. Your body twitches on its own accord as your orgasm rolls through you for what feels like an eternity.

“That’s it,” he whispers, stilling his hips. “Just take. That’s a good girl.”

You clamp your eyes shut as you reach the top of it. “No, look at me, baby. You’re so beautiful like this.”

Pink flushes your cheeks at his words and the blood that seems to not know where to go in your body. Everything feels like it’s being doused with warm water as you finally come over the edge and the fluttering of your pussy slows.

His eyes dance around your face before he kisses your forehead, and the tip of your nose. You smile into his lips as he places a light and lingering kiss on yours.

“Are you okay?” He says sweetly, pulling back slightly.

“Ya, that’s was…” you search his face for any hint of regret but all you see is admiration. You finish with, “…unexpected, but amazing.”

As he starts to respond, a whipping sound followed by a moan comes from the TV. Both of your heads turn towards it.

“Netflix is suggesting 50 Shades of Grey,” he laughs.

“That’s more of a seventh date thing for me,” you say flatly as his face whips back to you. You can’t help but laugh at his reaction. Both of you now laughing as you sort yourself back out, cuddling into him to find a new movie to “watch” next.

Taglist:

@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @keylimebeag @pimosworld

@casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot @lorilane33 @jessthebaker

@jasminedragoon @pedroswife69 @iloveenya @javierpena-inatacvest @pedroshotwifey

@mermaidgirl30 @littlevenicebitch69 @untamedheart81

Special tag for @survivingandenduring because I know you share my love of this man.

[ilovescarymen]

talk to me: Spencer Reid

You’d never been one for vulnerability. It probably had something to do with how you grew up, an emotionally unavailable mother and a mentally absent father- you were always berated when you cried or showed you were upset so as you got older , you stopped.

You had a boyfriend who made you think you could be soft and vulnerable infront of him but, he ended up using it against you in an argument, after that you swore to never be vulnerable again.

You became a blank canvas that was impossible to read, a smile always plastered on your face, a fake bubbly personality to cover the pain beneath the surface. You’d only cry in the comfort of a bathroom or your home and then smile around others. It always worked. No one ever questioned it, untill now.

Your boyfriend, Spencer Reid is a profiler for the fbi’s behavioral analysis unit. He study’s human behavior for a living, which means he sees right through your little facade.

He never addressed it because he thought that maybe vulnerability would come with time. Maybe you’d stop crying in the bathroom or the shower and instead cry in his arms.

But when he arrives home from a case and you’re not at the door , bouncing around and ecstatic to see him he knows something’s up, he peeks around the corner to your bedroom and sees his sweet girl, crying and hiccuping.

You notice him and quickly wipe your tears , perking up, your stand up off the bed and run to your boyfriend’s arms.

“Hi Spence! Sorry I’m running a bit late on dinner! I’ll go get it started!” You quickly spew out, as you make an attempt to walk away your pulled back by your boyfriend, he gently places his hands on the side of your face and scans your face, before making eye contact with you.

“Honey, slow down, what’s wrong?” He asks genuine concern in his voice

“Nothing! Why would something be wrong Spence?” You put a smile on your face and look up at your boyfriend, his eyebrows are furrowed together and a frown is all over his face.

“Sweetheart, you do know that I study human behavior every day right? I know you’re lying to me, please just talk to me baby. I love you and I care and I want you to feel better”

You shake your head “nothings wrong I’m okay” you release yourself from his grasp and slip past him to the kitchen, you open the fridge and scan it “I have pasta sauce! I can make you-“ you let out a squeak as Spencer picks you up and carries you over to the couch, he sits you in his lap facing him and holds you in place.

“I have let you do this long enough. I let you isolate yourself and pretend you’re okay when you’re not but no more. I want you to come to me, I want to cheer you up honey, I will never judge you, you know that right? I’ll never make you feel stupid for feeling your feelings. I love you I want you to talk to me”

Your lip starts to tremble and tears start falling down your face “she’s- she’s so mean Spence” you hiccup, he pulls you to his chest and hugs you, his arms wrapping around your waist

“Who is? Honey who’s mean?”

“My mother” you sob out, Spencer doesn’t know the horrors of your childhood. All he knows is you grew up in Texas and you left because you wanted a change in scenery, what he doesn’t know is that you actually left for your own safety. Your mother had lost it and you left to avoid another one of her beatings.

“Oh honey” he coos, he kisses the side of your head and rubs your back gently, whispering little “it’s okay”’s and “let it all out”’s in your ear. When your crying calmed down you sat up, looking Spencer in his eyes.

“M’ sorry, I know you got home from a case and this is probably the last thing you wanted to deal with” you breath out as you wipe your eyes

“Hey hey, Nuh uh. Don’t ever apologize for feeling your feelings, I’m more than happy to do this. To be here for you always. I love you, sweetheart “

“I love you too Spence “

“Now, tell me why we hate your mother”

And you did, you told him everything, and when tears fell Spence gently caressed your back and listened intently, showing you that it was okay.

This is what love is.

[selineram3421]

Hey? I just found your account and absolutely love it!

When you write with Alastor I always get this vibe from him:

And absolutely love for it 😭🥰

Oh my god.

Matched Search History

Prologue

Alastor X Writer Reader

Warnings⚠

⚠ Human AU, serial killer stuff so expect murder or mentions of it, oh and blood/gore, cussing, all caps for screeching/yelling, italics=thoughts, mentions of death, slight introvert reader ⚠

It wasn't your idea but your friend's.

There was a website that matched you with someone that had similar search history.

Currently, both of you were in the cafe with coffee and snacks, sitting at a two person table and having the usual friend hangout until she brought it up.

"Isn't that...a breach of privacy? How is this allowed?", you asked concerned.

"They only get what you give them! Like a questionnaire thing. You put down what you search and they set you up with someone!", she says and shows you the site on her phone.

"This is shady as fuck.", you say.

"Ok, maybe a little bit but you put what you want shared!", she smiles. "I mean you can meet another writer or someone who is super hot!"

Honestly you didn't know what to think of it, but maybe you could give it a shot.

I mean what's the worse that could happen? Haha..

"Ok..", you sighed and gave her the go to for making your account.

"Yay!", she squealed and started up a new profile. "Ok, so name, age, occupation..", she started typing furiously.

Once the basics were set up, she passed the phone to you to fill out the questionnaire.

At Matched Search History we only share what you give us! Any information you put into the system will be coded to find your Search History Partner, any other information you add in will also be added but stored away privately.

Please be aware that if any home address is added in the BIO or in MESSAGES it will be made public.

Yup. Shady shit right here. You thought and kept reading.

What do you search the most?

Answer: _______

You snort and type out murder techniques and first aid.

I'm definitely on the FBI list. You smile.

After taking care of the first one, you put down recipes, art and art history, science, little things like radio technology and other in depth research. You also make sure to put down cats.

"Here.", you hand the phone back.

"Wow that's a lot.", your friend scrolls down your list.

"What did you expect? I do a lot of searching on my laptop for the littlest things.", you shrug.

"Yeah, should have expected that.", she nods and looks through her photo album in her phone.

Leaning on the table, you look as she scrolls for the perfect photo.

"Which one are you gonna pick?", you ask and take a sip of your coffee.

"That cute one where you're hugging a cat.", your friend replies.

"Nah. Put the Halloween one."

She stops scrolling to look you dead in the eye, only to see your smug grin.

"No."

"Aw what? Come on!", you whine. "It'll be funny!"

"No! You're covered in fake blood!", she rejects the idea.

"But think of it! It would be fucking hilarious.", you nudge her arm.

"No and that's final! I'm putting this one!", she says and adds a photo without looking.

.

You honestly forgot about the account you both made until you got a bunch of emails about the website finding your match. You ignored most of them as they didn't go over 70%, that was until you saw the one you got today.

"What?", you asked with a mouth stuffed with noodles, being in the middle of eating lunch.

Picking up your phone, you check the email and feel your eyes widen.

You immediately called your friend.

"DUDE!"

"What?", she asks.

"THERE'S A HOT GUY WHO MATCHED 98% WITH ME!! WHAT DO I DO!?!?"

"Send me his pic! Duh!", she replies.

You take a screenshot of his profile picture and send it over.

"HOLY SHIT! I KNOW WHO THAT IS!!!"

"Who is it?", you ask.

"Don't you listen to his podcasts!?", your friend screeches. "He's the hot voice talking about murder mysteries and other creepy shit! You always listen to him while writing!"

"Huh, so this is him?", you ask. "How do you know? You hate hearing creepy stuff."

"I got bored one day.", she says.

Understandable. You thought. "Ok but back onto the topic. WHAT DO I DO!?"

"Send that love message to meet up!", she replied.

You deadpanned.

I have to go outside? I mean it wouldn't be bad if we went to a cafe or library. Maybe a bookstore... You thought.

"Fine. Since we already know his face he won't be able to run far if anything happens.", you said, making up your decision.

"Geez, don't talk like you're about to die.", your friend groaned.

"What? It's true.", you say. "Statistically, women are more likely to get killed on a date. Which doesn't rule out males but it does happen."

"UGH! Send me pics of what you're going to wear already!", she demanded.

.

You sat on a bench near a bus stop, messaging your friend. It was the best location for you to wait, there were multiple people around and restaurants with cameras.

Not gonna find out my address~ You sang in your head as you messaged your "match" that you had arrived.

You messaged him a brief description of your features and what you were wearing, so that way he wouldn't go around like a headless chicken trying to look for you.

Just in case things went south, you had a back up outfit to change into.

As you waited, a sudden thought came up.

Why was he on the dating site MSH? You wondered. Maybe his friend also pressured him to make a profile or someone else.

Then another thought.

What if it isn't him and someone just used a random photo they found to put up? You frowned at that. I hope that's not the case. That would be very annoying to deal with.

"Now, I hope that I'm not the reason my date is wearing a frown."

Turning your head to see who had decided to approach you, you saw a familiar face and warm reddish copper eyes. He was dressed very nicely, white button up long sleeve, dark red knit sweater vest, black pants, and black looking dress shoes.

"I'm Alastor.", he smiled. "And you are my date for this evening, yes?"

Damn it. You thought, trying to keep a straight face. He looks like a bookish nerd and that is definitely my type.

You stood up from the bench and gave a smile back.

"Nice to meet you.", you greeted and then introduced yourself.

Thank you for bringing this to me. I have read this post but forgot about it until you brought it back.

~Seline, the person.

Taglist@

@c4rved-pumpk1n @scary-noodlesblog @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @lbcreations-blog @ducky-died-inside @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @line-viper @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @trashbin-nie @koioli @fatherlesschild2 @mmik3yy @just-here-reading @nealeart @hudiexiaoying @crystal-multiplefandomlover @glowinggoldfish0 @tiredgamerhere @fluffy-koalala @valenfawkes @willowshadenox @aria-tempest @alastor-simp @nonetheartist @gallantys @i-3at-kidz @luxky-aish @ceafighter @xalygatorx @xangel-8 @big-brother-problems @mistpurpl3 @chewbrry @willowbrookhoot @briethekitsune @alastorthirsty @sir-aadiboii @fuzzyturtlepaws @+?

ML II for Alastor🎙

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Hi,

could you write a one-shot , where the female reader is an FBI student (one of Will‘s)and due to Will being sick, Hannibal takes over and that‘s how they met for the first time. The reader then get‘s called into the field and needs a psych. evaluation done by Dr.Lecter. A few months later they are together abd remember how they first met.(with smut?)

Hannibal X Reader: Tender beginnings

Warnings: smut, fluff, domish Hannibal (not really though), kissing, pet names, fingering, oral (f receiving), penetration ( p in v), no use of y/n

Word count: 1,7K

“Will you are never going to believe what i-oh.” 

You stopped mid sentence eyes falling on a strange figure. You look at the sign by the door thinking perhaps you’ve entered the wrong class room but upon further evaluation you were in the right place. The only thing missing was Will. The stranger turned to look at you.

“One of Wills' students I presume.”

“Yes and you are?”

“Hannibal Lecter. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

You took Hannibal's hand giving it a shake.

“Is Will okay?”

“Yes he’s fine. Recovering from a small flu. He should be back on his feet in no time.”

“You’re filling in for him?”

“Yes, I'll be taking over for him this week.”

“You might have a tough time.”

“Why’s that?”

“Wills one hell of a teacher. Not so sure you can live up to him.”

He should have been offended by your words but he could see you were just being coy. And he’d only just met you there was still time to prove you wrong. As much as you adored Will, you had to admit Hannibal was a good teacher. He made it through the week with little issue. On the last day of his class you stayed a bit longer, wanting to talk to him before he left.

“You proved me wrong.”

Hannibal smiled to himself before turning to face you.

“Did I please you?”

“Eh you were alright.”

You gave him a coy smile, a silent way of telling him you were only teasing. 

“It was nice meeting you Hannibal Lecter. Maybe I'll see you around?”

“Maybe you will.”

You had no idea how right you had been with your prediction of meeting Hannibal again. A couple of months after he filled in for Will you were given the official welcome in the FBI. Becoming an agent meant a lot of things and one of them included having a steady mind. So you were asked to have a psych evaluation done, a last step into your journey to become an agent. 

And who would be your psychiatrist? 

Well none other than Hannibal Lecter.

“Seems fate keeps pulling me towards you.”

“Perhaps it’s merely because you and i both work for the FBI”

“Maybe. But they could have sent me to other psychiatrists. Yet here I am. I’d say fate doesn't seem that far off.”

Hannibal shook his head, gesturing for you to take a seat.  You’d done psych evaluations before, they were mandatory for you to begin your training, but this one felt different. Hannibal seemed to ask you questions that didn’t have a lot to do with your state of mind and more to do with you as a person. Maybe that was the moment you should have realized his interest in you but you remained oblivious until he, very directly, asked for your number.

“What are you thinking about over there?”

You turned your head to look at Hannibal. He was laying on the bed the book he’d been reading moments ago rested on his lap. 

“Just remembering how we met.”

Hannibal got up from the bed moving over to the vanity you were sitting in. He placed his hands on your shoulder giving a kiss to the top of your head. You looked at him through the mirror observing as his reflection smiled down at you.

“What did you first notice about me?”

“Your confidence.”

“Come on Hannibal, I'm being serious.”

“So am i. You never notice it but the way you walk into the room shows everyone who sees you just how strong you are. It’s one of the things that captivated me about you.”

You turn your body in your seat, allowing you to face Hannibal. He moved his hand to cup your chin, his thumb stroking your cheek. Your reach forward Wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your chin on his stomach. 

“You really mean it?”

“Of course I do, dear.”

You hum against Hannibal's skin, your hands moving against his back in circles. Your brows furrow as you think and Hannibal notices immediately. His finger moves to caress the line in between your brows causing you to snicker before gazing up at him lovingly.

“Can you imagine if Will had never gotten the flu? I would have never met you.”

“That's not true.”

“Of course it is Hannibal. If we hadn’t met in that class room you probably wouldn’t have asked for my number and we wouldn’t be together.”

“But we are together dear.”

“I know. I just can’t help thinking about it. I can’t imagine my life without you.”

“You will never have to. I’m right here. Let me prove it to you.”

Hannibal Moved his hands underneath your armpits, lifting you off the chair with ease. You wrapped your legs around his waist, clinging to his body as he walked over to the bed. He placed you in the bed gently. You watched him sink to his knees, his hand moving to grip your ankles. He gave your body a tug, forcing you to move closer to the edge of the bed. You leaned up on your elbows, eyeing Hannibal for a moment. He felt your gaze on him causing his eyes to find yours.

“Lay down dear. Relax while I taste you.”

You knew better than to deny Hannibal the pleasure of tasting you. He enjoyed eating you out just as much as you did. You settled against the silk sheets, closing your eyes. Hannibal widened your legs, moving the shirt you used as pajamas up until your bare body was revealed to him. You usually slept without underwear and this time was no different. Hannibal stared at your pussy, taking in the sight before inching his finger closer. You body jolted up as you felt him play with your folds. A small moan escaped your lips as he continued to toy with you for a moment. His hands caressed your thighs as he inched his face closer to your pussy. 

Your hands latched onto Hannibal's hair as his face finally came into contact with your body. His tongue moved over your folds slowly. He always liked going slow when it came to you. He would only move at a rougher or more rapid pace if you asked him. His tongue entered your core, causing you to shudder at the feeling. Hannibal lapped at your pussy for a while before adding his fingers into the mix. You let out a moan as his fingers plunged into you.

“Oh Hannibal! Yes there right there-fuck…”

His lips moved to suck on your clit as his fingers continued to move against you. Your hands clawed at the sheets as you felt your orgasm creep up on you. With every moan you let out the quicker Hannibal moved his fingers inside you until finally your body couldn’t take it anymore. You came onto Hannibals face with a scream of his name, your hands flexing against the bed before finally relaxing. Hannibal moved back, resting on his knees for a moment as he observed you come down from your high. You put your finger out, motioning for him to come to you. He did as you requested, his body moving to crawl on top of you until you were face to face. His face glistened with your juices. You leaned forward licking his chin before tugging him into a needy kiss. 

You could feel Hannibal’s hard-on nudge against your bare skin. You placed your hand on his chest, guiding it down until you felt his dick in your hand. You gave him a cheeky smile, biting your lip as you caressed him through his boxers. Hannibal grunted, his nose scrunching as his desire for you grew. You moved to whisper against his ear.

“I think I still need you to prove to me you’re mine.”

Hannibal laughed at your words, leaning his head against yours.

“Gladly dear.”

You watched him move off the bed, removing his boxers before climbing back on top of you. He placed his hands on your legs, lifting them up so that your knees were bent. You widen your legs for him, making it easier for him to line his dick up with your pussy. Your mouth opened in a silent moan as he sunk into you slowly. You could hear the deep breath he took as he bottomed out. Hannibal grabbed your wrists, forcing your hands to move above your head. 

“You ready for me?”

All you could do was nod for him, the feeling of fullness he gave you turning your mind to mush. He moved forwards with one sharp thrust waiting for a moment before removing his dick almost entirely and plunging back into you. You squealed as he fucked into you, desperately trying to grab onto his body but the grip he had on your wrists stopped you.

“Behave. Or I won't make you cum.”

You stopped squirming at Hannibal's words. You knew he was all talk but you couldn't help but do as he said. He rewarded you for your good behavior of course, his hips moving faster against you. The bed cracked as Hannibal continued his movements. Your legs wove against his waist, trying to get him closer to you. 

“Hannibal, I'm close. I- ah- shit!”

“Come on dear, cum for me.”

You gushed onto Hannibal's dick, your walls clenching around him. He released your wrist, his hand moving to grip the bed frame for better leverage. Your body moved as he began to roughly thrust into you. Overstimulation started to get to you but before it started to get too bad Hannibal's orgasm washed over him. His body sagged into yours, his weight falling onto your body. You enjoyed the feeling, it reminded you he was real. He nuzzled his nose into your collarbone placing a kiss there before rolling off you. The two of you lay in silence for a moment. You felt Hannibal's hand around you, tugging your body closer to his. You snuggled up against his frame, moving to place a kiss to his cheek.

“Promise you’ll always be mine?”

Hannibal stroked your hair as he looked at you lovingly.

“I swear.”

[angieblogging]

scars of the past.

worldwide issues || read on ao3 || writing masterlist

a/n: please read the warnings on this one! also i’m thinking about making this couple parts, so we’ll see.

description; you’re the new addition to the BAU team, after Derek Morgan left, Reid and Penelope hate your guts, but when you and Reid get paired up to visit the coroner’s office together he learns something about you, something you wanted to keep a secret and it changes the dynamic between the two od you.

warnings; mention of scars, sh, razor blades, swearing.

— THIS WORK IS NOT PROOFREAD!!

You were new to the team, when Agent Morgan left a spot opened and you got it, the excitement you felt was indescribable, you wanted this job forever and now it was your chance to become a profiler, to help the FBI, to meet other profilers. Your first day was rough, you were late and no one really talked with you except Emily, but you just shook it off as them being focused on the case, later on Jennifer also started to talk with you, you felt more comfortable knowing the two a little bit made you feel less alone and alienated.

The days passed fast and you had to admit the job wasn’t turning out how you imagined. You obviously were profiling, that part lived up to your, for a lack of better word, expectations. However the team wasn’t. You made two connections, you couldn’t even call that friendship. Jennifer and Emily tolerated you, they respected you and treated you with kindness, but the rest of the team was not a fan of you. Spencer always had an attitude when it came to you, as far as you noticed he gave it to no one else and no one defended you, except that one time where Emily had to stop him, because he was going too far.

Penelope treated you like air, like you didn’t exist and if she had to acknowledge your existence she did it as fast as she could, just so she can go back to pretending you don’t exist. It was crushing you. Every time you had to talk with Garcia or Reid the knot in your stomach tightened, it was there present all day long at work, but it was the worse when it came to those two. You knew there was another open spot for the BAU, that still remained empty and you wondered if another person would have to deal with this shit to and your heart just broke for them.

Since you joined the team you have solved one case so far, the way back on the jet was peaceful, everyone was exhausted and you just couldn’t wait to go home. Going home was your favourite time, drinking a glass of wine, catching up with your pet, watching TV, quite literally anything that would shift your focus from the terrible anxiety you were feeling, every fucking day at work.

Next day at work it shocked you to see more people around the table, you weren’t that surprised to see David Rossi, he took a time off because he got hurt during a mission, before you joined the BAU and you haven’t had the pleasure to meet him yet, but the other woman you didn’t recognise.

“Okay, so everyone is here. This Doctor Tara Lewis, she will be joining us on this case, alongside Rossi.” As Emily spoke, you glanced at Tara and smiled lightly as she looked at you, you felt at ease when she returned the smile.

On the other hand you ignored Reid, you could feel his eyes on you again, drilling a hole in your head.

You fucking hated this job.

The jet ride is always calm, not this time. David called shots this time and unknowingly of the situation put you with Reid, he wanted to protest, but David shut it down so he just glanced annoyed at you.

“What’s up with that?” Tara whispered to you, the two of you talked more, she noticed how disconnected you were from the team and when Emily mentioned you joined recently she felt at ease, knowing she wasn’t the only “outcast”.

“Great question, wish I knew…” You shrugged, you really didn’t know why Reid disliked you, but the problem was not on your end.

You and Reid were headed to the coroner’s office, to examine the victims bodies. The ride there was quiet, you didn’t know what to say and he said nothing.

You listened to his observations about the wounds, the two of you examined the body. What stood out to you were the scars on the women’s arms, you knew those very very well, you had the same ones on your shoulder. It was warm, but as long as you could you wore long sleeves, so only you knew for now.

“Hm.. Those scars, are they fresh? Was it a knife or another weapon?” Reid looked up at the coroner, but before he could speak you answered his question.

“Razor blade.” You just stated, but the silence made you glance both at Reid and at the coroner. “Um… Those are razor blade scars… They’re deep, but still narrow, a knife could do it, but probably not with this much precision.”

Reid looked back at the coroner and the man just nodded.

“Yeah, your partner here is right. These are most likely from razor blades, those scars are about a month old, most likely not connected to the UnSub, but both women had similar scars in different stages of healing.”

You two left in silence, but the ride back was not silent. You jumped up when he spoke at first, no radio and a quiet street combined with his speaking out of nowhere scared you.

“Sorry, what did you say?” You cleared your throat, he was focused on the road, very focused, his eyebrows were frowned and his brown eyes looking ahead as he repeated what he said before.

“I asked about what you said at the coroner’s office. The razor blades.”

You frowned, that was not the hole you wanted to dig under yourself. “What about them?”

“How did you know so fast?”

He knew? Did he? He was a genius, but you weren’t sure, that didn’t stop your mind from racing with no proof. Can you lie to a profiler?

Your chest started to feel heavy, an imaginary pressure was applied to it, your lungs were heavy as if filled with sand, you could feel how your heart sped up and how the temperature of your body rose up.

“I- um… I just did…” You managed to mumble out, fucking anxiety, you were a terrible liar, even worse under pressure.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, so you prayed he let the topic go.

“You clean now?” He glanced at you and back at the road.

That question made you want to jump out of the moving car, that was in fact not his business and you truly didn’t want the team to know, what’s in the past is meant to stay there. You didn’t know what to say to that, you opted on being a bitch untill he drops the topic.

“That is so not your fucking business… And who even said I- I did that.” You scoffed looking out the window.

You’re okay… You’re okay…

You kept repeating in your head that fucking phrase, but you were in fact not okay.

“Well, you do wear long sleeves always and in this weather you must be hot… Your eyes immediately focused on the scars at the coroner’s office… You knew the blade, you can know everything in theory, but you were sure of it… You pretty much told on yourself….But if it’s not you, then it’s someone close to you.”

Fucking profilers.

“Just focus on the road.” You said firmly, you did tell on yourself, especially when you claimed it was “none of his business”. That didn’t matter now, you couldn’t say anything to go back. He was right, but you didn’t want him to know, not him, not anyone. It was definitely too late now.

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 You Says.

Post prison Reid x Reporter!reader

Read part one here!

Summary: After a rough night and some misunderstandings, Spencer needs to do everything he can to make things right with you and get his relationship back on track. The problem is, things aren't so easy for you, and he's willing to do anything you ask, even take care of you when no one else will.

Words: 3,1k.

TW: mentions of crime and trauma. angst+comfort. the reader gets sick (nothing serious, just a normal cold). english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: Ok, I didn't think of doing a second part before, but reading my own work made me so sad😭 the cat deserves happy parents (we are the cat) but I warn you that I do not believe in magic apologies.

As an interesting side note, both parts of this story are named after children's games. In this case, it's for "Simon Says," which I thought was pretty cool because in this part, Spencer literally does whatever the reader wants.

I also want to thank you for the support you gave to the first part and for the 300 followers💝 I could not say it before but it makes me very happy.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

Spencer had been losing his mind since the last time he saw you in person, and it was all his fault. From the moment the door to his apartment closed behind you and the oven beeped, he began to feel the broken pieces of his heart that you had once held together unravel and shatter even more. He hated himself for letting his insecurities get in the way of the one good thing he had managed to have over the past few years, and for pushing you away when you didn't want to. You had been his exception among all the bad things that had happened in his life for as long as he could remember, the only one that didn't seem to want to be temporary and left him when he least expected it. And he himself had forced you out of his life, even when you didn't want to, begging him with tear-filled eyes for a little remorse that he didn't give you.

Just a few hours after the incident, he tried to go to work as if nothing had happened to clean up the mess the leak had made and put the killer in jail. He brought Penelope the promised cookies and your computer for her to examine because it felt right at the time. Part of him needed her to find real proof of your betrayal so he could stop feeling bad about making you cry and saying such ugly things to you.

Then he found out that you were telling the truth and that your computer contained nothing but photos of the two of you, all the articles he had ever written or been mentioned in your searches, and a few writings in which you poured out all your love for him in the cheesiest and most poetic way possible. You loved him, you really did, and there was no evidence to the contrary, because even Garcia could later assure him that the information had come anonymously and had been bought for five hundred dollars. But it was too late, because he had given you a conviction without even knowing it.

That's when he started to fixate on making amends for what he'd done. Every time you left work, bouquets of your favorite flowers with notes asking for forgiveness and wishing you a good night began to appear in your car. He also made a point of stopping by to talk to you and repeat how sorry he was. You knew this would happen when he realized his mistake. You had told him before you left, and that's why you refused to see him. It was good that the security guards at your workplace didn't let him in, even with his FBI credentials. The tricky part was your building because the doorman already knew him and let him in normally thanks to the excuses Spencer made up, even though you said a thousand times that he shouldn't have.

And that was happening again, for the fifth or sixth time in the last few days.

“Please, just let me talk to you and tell you how sorry I am. Listen to me for a moment.” You could hear Reid's voice from the other side of the door.

You didn't say anything. You just sat with your back against the door and one hand on your heart, as if you were trying to hold it. It didn't even cross your mind that he was in the same situation.

“Just a few minutes, please."

Once more, you remained silent.

Silence was the worst answer someone could give. You knew it, and it hurt to have to do it with him. But you had no choice because you knew that by looking into his eyes for just a few seconds, all the bad things would dissipate and maybe you would even forgive him without thinking just because of the love you had for him. You didn't like being this vulnerable and having so many feelings for someone who didn't trust you.

Lately, you've been spending every waking moment wondering what you could have done to make him believe that you were really capable of betraying him in such a cruel and selfish way. You were the one who woke up in the middle of the night to try to comfort him every time he had a nightmare or couldn't sleep. You drove to his apartment no matter what time it was to make sure he was okay. You lost your breath repeating that he was safe with you. You drank many cups of coffee the next day so you wouldn't fall asleep on the job every time the situation repeated itself. That's why you started sleeping in his apartment, wrapped in his arms because he said it made him happy to wake up and see you. And even with all that, Spencer was able to believe that you didn't love him.

You were running your hands through your hair and sighing, trying to block out all the thoughts running through your head, when you heard his phone ring. You could tell it was important by the way he spoke and changed his tone of voice, so you got up from the floor at the same time he did to put your ear to the door.

“I really have to go now, but could you open up a little bit so I can take a quick look at you?” He asked in a pleading tone after hanging up the call. “Please, I know you can hear me. I can see the shadow of your feet under the door.”

You really thought he didn't know you were there, feeling like a fool for listening to every word he said.

“If you want to see me, turn on the TV.” Your voice finally reached Spencer, and it gave him a glimmer of hope. It was the first time you had spoken to him since that night, and even though there was a door between the two of you, you were talking to him.

“It's not enough.”

“And it's not my problem.”

That was more hurtful than your silence.

“I know, it's mine.” He replied after a couple of seconds, trying to process everything. “And I will do everything I can to fix it...I have to go now, but take care of yourself. The nights have been getting colder lately, so wrap up warm.”

You knew it was a bit silly to think of that now, but his attention to detail was impressive. Since you did the evening news, you used to get off work very late, and the change from air conditioning to the city cold was quite a lot. Spencer had cited scientific studies to you many times to make you aware and know what kind of clothing materials to use to avoid a cold. You missed that a lot.

If he had the same attitude as the night of the conflict, it would be easier. You could hate him and stop loving him so strongly.

“I love you, William misses you and so do I.”

You frowned because you didn't know anyone by that name.

“William?”

“Our cat.” He answered simply. “When we talked about how we would name him, you said that a lot of people name their pets after their favorite characters. You love the movie ‘Notting Hill’ and whenever we watch it, you always say you like Hugh Grant's character named William. It also means strong-willed warrior. I just thought you would like it.”

You didn't say anything at the time because you had to cover your hand with your mouth to keep from doing so, but you liked it and you liked it too much. Once again, he focused on the details.

“You can change it if you want because I don't know if he likes it, but what I do know is that he misses you. He lies on your blanket and starts meowing, and he also looks at the door. I certainly think that every time I come home he expects it to be you.” He kept talking as he received no response from you. “It sounds like I'm talking about myself. And it's true because it happens to me the same way.”

When he paused, a tear escaped and fell down your cheek. It wasn't fair for him to say those things now.

“If you want to see him and me not being there, you can send me a message...but I'd really like to be.” He paused again, as if searching for the perfect words.

What did it cost him to have searched for the perfect words the night he distrusted you?

“I must go, I love you.”

The last thing you heard before he left was Spencer's footsteps heading towards the elevator.

Just two weeks later, you realized that maybe you should have listened to Spencer when he said the nights were getting too cold. If you had, now you probably wouldn't be lying on your bed with an unbearable flu and no one there to bring you soup or a cold washcloth for your forehead because your mother was taking too long to get to city.

When you were younger, you thought it was a great idea to get as far away from your hometown as possible. Now, however, you realize that you need a familiar face to take care of you because you can't do it alone all the time.

You felt a sense of relief when you heard the door to your apartment open.

“Mom? I'm really hungry and the soup is all gone.” You spoke in a tired tone as you heard footsteps approaching. But at that moment, you watched as the cat you shared with Reid jumped onto the bed and started purring at you.

You thought you were hallucinating from the fever until you saw Spencer walking into your room with a couple of bags.

“I know you were expecting your mother, but we brought you soup and medicine.” He said, sitting up in bed to look closely at you and put a hand on your forehead. “You're burning up.”

“What are you doing here?” You asked, trying to pull away from his touch.

“Your mother called me because she couldn't find a flight today and was very worried. She asked me to take care of you.”

Of course she did, because she adored him and didn't know that things were bad between you two.

“I don't need you to take care of me.” You barely settled into bed and petted the cat. “Go to work, make sure no one leaks information.”

Oh, that was a low blow for him.

“I asked for a few days off because you have a high fever and someone needs to take care of you.”

“You don't have to...”

“I want to.” He said, interrupting you and putting a cold cloth on your forehead.

“Just because you're looking out for me doesn't mean I'm going to forget everything and forgive you.” You clarified right away, trying not to lose focus because of the relief you felt thanks to the cold compress.

“I know, and I don't expect you to. Just let me take care of you now, forget you hate me until you get better. I won't take advantage of this, I swear.” He looked at you with a serious gaze, as if he were swearing an oath. “Please.”

God, not puppy dog eyes now.

You used to love it when he looked at you with those sparkling eyes. Now, though, you felt manipulated by it.

“Fine, give me the soup.” You finally agreed, knowing you didn't have much of a choice. “Just a warning, please don't answer any calls near me. I can listen in and use the information to hire a nurse.”

He ignored the comment and didn't bring it up to make you uncomfortable. He sat on the edge of the bed, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. His touch was light, and his eyes searched yours as he spoke.

“Is there anything else besides soup I can bring you? More tissues, or maybe some medicine?” He asked in a soft, soothing voice.

You shook your head, still a bit dazed by the situation and your stomach rumbling. You watched as Spencer disappeared into the kitchen, and you could hear his footsteps echoing throughout the house, followed by the clatter of pots and pans and the sound of the stove being turned on. You could only lie back on your bed, feeling a wave of tiredness wash over you.

A few minutes later, he came back with a bowl of chicken noodle soup and sat down next to you on the bed, being careful not to spill anything.

“Are you planning to feed me soup?” You asked, with a hint of irony in your voice, as you watched me hold the spoon and watch you.

“If you wish, I'll be happy to.” He replied simply and brought the spoon gently to your mouth.

“I'm not a baby.”

Especially not his baby.

“You hate me, I know. But I really want to take care of you, and I won't leave until at least your mother arrives.” He paused for a second, as if to catch his breath. “If you don't want me around, that's okay, I'll just sit in the corner of the room or in the living room in silence. It hurts, but I'll take whatever you want.”

You remained silent for several seconds, dedicating yourself to stroking the cat to avoid Spencer's gaze.

“I don't hate you.” Was the only thing you could say at the time.

Something inside you was expecting a more exaggerated reaction for letting your guard down a bit, or maybe you were just too feverish. The thing was, he had only given you a small, almost non-existent smile.

“I know.” He finally spoke and gently adjusted the cold compress on your forehead. “And that's why I hate myself.”

At that moment, while you were trying to make sense of how things had changed so much in just a week, he was watching you.

Spencer was waiting for you to explode, to tell him how sorry you were for getting involved with him and his complicated world, that it was all one big mistake that you would regret forever. He was expecting disaster, pain, tears, and a lot of chaos.

But you didn't give him any of that.

Just a sweet nothing.

He could tell at that moment that even though you were in a feverish state and had many reasons to be cruel, you would not be. He realized that you would never yell at him or do anything to hurt him, that the most painful thing you could give him was your silence. And it was then that he confirmed that you loved him the way he thought he did not deserve to be loved: honestly and genuinely.

“Why?” You whispered after a few minutes of silence. “Why are you with me if you don't trust me?”

“I trust you.” He looked you straight in the eye as he spoke, trying to show that he was being completely sincere. “I just don't trust myself.”

You frowned and let out a groan from the discomfort in your forehead. You weren't sure if you were hallucinating because of the cold or if Spencer was really shivering.

“I don't think I'm good enough for you, or deserve you, or that you love me because you want to.” He finally admitted, his voice slightly shaky. He seemed to be in a worse state than you. “It's silly because you've never given me a reason to distrust you.”

“I know you thought I was going to leave. But I didn't want to leave until you asked me to.” You were close to crying, so you pretended to sneeze to hide your watery eyes. You didn't want to show how vulnerable you were. “It was easier to distrust me and blame me like I was just another bad person you catch.”

“Yes, but...” He replied, trying to answer your question.

“Don't talk. It's my turn.”

He nodded after a few seconds, watching you with concern. “Just be careful, you're still sick.”

You already knew how sick you were and how deplorable you probably looked, but you wanted to say it all and stop feeling a lump in your throat.

“You say you trust me, but you really don't, and I've been trying to understand you for almost a year, Spencer. It's been eleven months of trying not to invade your space, avoiding topics that make you tense or your eyes glaze over.” You had to stop to catch your breath and drink some water with his help. “And you think I don't understand you or really know you, but I do. I know how all your dishes are arranged, I know how you like to fold clothes and eat toast, I know that chess reminds you of someone because your eyes get watery every time we see a board, I know about the book signed by Maeve that you hide in your closet and about which you tense up every time I'm near, I know about your nightmares about prison that you don't like to talk about, and about your mother's favorite colors that change every day. I know so much about you, and yet you think I know nothing.”

Once more, there was a long, quiet pause.

“I'm so sorry.” He held your hands as he repeated the same thing, this time with a truly sincere tone. The whole room was still tense as his knees touched the floor, and the apology he gave you seemed like a plea. “I'm really sorry. I know you don't want apologies, you want trust, and I'm going to show you that.”

You didn't say anything as he sat down next to you on the bed.

“I trust you, that's why I always tell you about my cases. And I will tell you about all my past, if you want, because for me you are my present and my future...of course, only if you still want to.”

The eyes of both of you were fixed on the cat you shared, who was purring and lying very comfortably in the middle of the bed. It was nice to know that at least one of the three of you was happy.

“Tell me.”

And just as you asked, he told you everything because he wanted to show you that he trusted you.

This time he really trusted.

[samandcolbyownme]

Warnings are for the WHOLE SERIES | SMUT18+, strong language, swearing, enemies to lovers, mentions of weapons, knives, guns, gunfire, KNIFE PLAY, blood, injuries, wounds, arguing, some physical fighting, mentions of drugs, smoking weed, mentions of car accident, fbi!reader, reader being restrained, kissing, biting, hair pulling, scratching, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (m rec), violence and filth

Word Count: 2.8k | unedited

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You kept thinking about the kiss.

Maybe overthinking it?

You kept thinking about how soft and gentle it was. How you expect it to be rough and dominating but instead, it was total opposite, which kind of throws you through a loop.

He’s a killer, but does he have a soft spot for me? Why would he do that, to prove a point maybe?

“Y/n.” Cody reaches over and lays his hand on yours, “You didn’t take some of your pain meds before you came did you?”

Oh right, we’re at dinner, “No. no. I didn’t sleep well last night and then I tried taking a nap earlier after we got back from the station and that..” you shake your head, “Sorry. I’ve been itching to get back to work and-“

“Well what do you want to know?” Cody leans back, “I’m pretty well caught up on it, so maybe I can help fill you in on what you think you don’t know.”

You smile, “Yes. Work talk would be great right n-“

Your attention is taken away from Cody, and placed onto Sam who is sitting at the bar.

“What is it?” Cody asks, slowly turning his head to look over. Sam turns around right as Cody looks at him, and with a saving grace, Ben and Nat walk in, giving you the perfect excuse, “Sorry. It’s my brother and Nat.”

“Ben and Nat? I was wondering when they were going to reconnect.”

“You knew?!” You look at Cody, laughing slightly, “Like for certain you knew?”

He shrugs, “I mean, you can read it off of them from a mile away.”

“That’s what I said! Well, something like that.” You laugh, glancing back over towards Sam. He raises his glass to you, giving you a wink before standing up to move somewhere else.

If he’s here, then that means one of the others is here, too.

And you’d be correct.

He meets Johnnie down at the other end, but you turn your attention back to Cody, “So.. work. Sorry.”

He shakes his head, giving you a smile, “You’re good, sweetheart. Ask away.”

“Have the families of the men who are a part of that plan to take down the hospital moved into P.C yet?”

You look at Cody as he shakes his head, almost looking disappointed, “No. Since the murders have been happening in the east side of town, they-“

“They’re waiting until one of them finally loses a husband. A father. A grandfather?” You roll your eyes, “Please. They have all the -“

“Y/n. I’ve been trying. Ever since you said something to me about it in the hospital. A lot of the men, who I have called myself, laughed and said let them come. They think they can take down these assholes themselves. No matter how much we push or try, it’s really on them.”

“That’s actually..” you stop, taking in a deep breath, “I’ll talk to the chief myself about that. I’ll go door to door myself if I have to.” You take a long sip from your glass, “Do you think there’s more to Ben getting shot?”

Cody takes a sip of his drink and tilts his head, “I’m going to need you to elaborate a little bit more. I’m not sure I’m following.”

“Do you think that there was just one shooter? Was this a part of the.. Killionaires?”

Cody is quiet for a moment before leaning in, “Y/n. If he was a target for those assholes..” He sighs, “I hate to say this, but I think you’d be a target, too.”

“Are you saying you think the accident was from them?” You take a sip of your wine and raise your brows as he doesn’t answer, “You do.”

“I didn’t say that.” Cody shakes his head, “What..” He sighs, “What I’m saying is, I don’t know what or who caused our accident, and if you think there’s something more about Ben shooting then take it up with the chief.”

You swallow, clenching your jaw, “Okay. Maybe work talk was a bad topic of-“

“No, no. I just.. I care about you a lot, and even thinking that you could be a potential target.. it just pisses me off. I didn’t mean-“

“Fancy seeing you two here.” Ben says as he walks up.

You smirk, “Yeah, I could say the same thing about you.” You glance to Nat, “Could have told me.”

She laughs slightly, “Yeah, yeah. I just.. wasn’t sure where we stood after.. everything, you know?”

You nod, “I understand.”

“Would you like to join us?” Cody offers and luckily, they decline, making their way over to their own table.

Cody looks from them to you, “Cute couple, huh?”

“Oh yeah. Totally.” You smile and down your wine, “Where’s the waiter? I need-“

“More wine?”

Your heart falls into your stomach at your eyes meet Colby’s, “Uh. Yes, yes please.” You remind yourself over and over again to stay calm, cool, and most importantly, collected.

“And for you sir?” Colby looks at Cody and Cody shakes his head, “Whiskey, please.”

“Coming right up.” Colby turns, giving you a wink before going to fetch your drinks. You take a deep breath, “Didn’t we have a different waiter before?”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t really paying attention.” Cody laughs, “You look really pretty tonight.”

“Thank you.” You smile, looking down, “You clean up really well, yourself.”

You couldn’t lie, you felt weird being here with Cody after you run in with Jake this afternoon. You swore you could still feel his lips on yours, which only made you sink deeper into the hole of betrayal.

“I’m going to run to the restroom quick, if he comes back to take our order when I’m not here just get me what you get.” You give him a smile and turn, your smile disappearing as you walk away.

You walk around the bar, stopping when you see Sam sitting at the end. He looks over at you and you tilt your head, mouthing, “What are you doing here?”

He chuckles, mouthing back, “Keeping an eye on you.” He raises his finger off the glass, pointing at you and you roll your eyes, pushing the bathroom door open.

You walk in, hands gripping the counter as you feel like you’re about to pass out, “Shit. Okay.”

“You alright there, honey?” An older woman asks as she walks up next to you, “You look a little pale, and you’re sweating.”

“I think I drank too much.” You laugh slightly, “Wine doesn’t agree with me sometimes. I don’t know why I drink it.” You reach out to take the paper towel she ripped off for you, “Thank you.”

“I had that same problem, but with tequila. Oh boy was that rough.” She laughs, “Water will help, and a cool towel, and if you need to puke, don’t fight it.”

You nod, “Thank you.”

She washes her hands and exits the room, leaving you alone to calm down.

You make your way back out, bumping into someone as you round the corner, “Oh, sorry.” You look up, seeing Colby as he turns with the tray of glasses, “Not a problem, sweetheart.”

He smirks at you, “After you.”

“Mhm.” You huff as you walk around him, smiling at Cody as he comes into view, “There was a lady in there who told me her life story about how tequila is a no go for her.”

“People are so comfortable nowadays.” He laughs, motioning to Colby, who he doesn’t know is Colby, “Ah, yes. Thank you.”

“Of course. Are we ready to order?”

You and Cody order, spending the rest of the night, not talking about work, mainly so you don’t spew all over the table.

It was a good evening. You became slightly tipsy and giggly, but you could still hold your tongue and not say anything too specific.

Once you arrive home, you hoped Cody would just drop you off and leave, but the alcohol in your system had other plans as soon as he kissed you goodnight.

He walks you back through your door, lips still on yours as he kicks it closed. His hands hold you close to him as he guides you over to the couch.

He sits down and you instantly straddle him, grinding down as his lips trail down your neck. You let out a small moan as his teeth sink into your neck, sucking and nipping at the skin between them.

“I’ve missed you.” He whispers against your chest, “You have no idea.” His hands slide up to pull the straps of your dress off your shoulders, kissing the skin that was hidden beneath them, “You are so beautiful.”

You close your eyes, whimpering out as he moves your hips, grinding his bulge up against you.

As you open your eyes, Jake’s figure appears from within the hall and you gasp, scrambling to stand up as you push yourself away from Cody, “Um. I’m sorry. I’m not..”

“It’s okay. It’s okay. We don’t-“

“No, I just.. I don’t think doing this while I-“ you take a deep breath, “I can’t have this and focus on the current case.”

“It’s fine. Okay? I get it.” Cody stands up, “You don’t ever have to explain yourself, okay? I trust your judgment.”

“Thank you.” You sigh, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have drank with the pain meds probably still in my system anyway.”

“I should have thought about that, I’m sorry.” Cody kisses your head, “Get some rest. Text me in the morning, okay?”

You nod, “Okay. Thank you.”

You walk him over to the door and give him a smile as he turns around to wave. You lift your fingers off the door, making sure he gets to his car before you close the door.

“Well that was quite a show.” Jake breaks the silence, “You didn’t have to stop on my account.”

“I didn’t find anything else out. If that’s what you’re here for.” You press your back against the door, “Sorry.”

“What are you sorry for, love?” Jake walks up, copying your position, “You tried, right?”

You nod, “He thinks that if Ben was a target for you guys, I would be one too.. and-“

Jake clicks his tongue, “So, you think I shot Ben?”

You shake your head, “Didn’t say that, but I would like to know who did.”

“The guy in prison, was the one who shot your brother, but the person behind it.. he’s..” Jake stops talking and you turn, pushing his shoulders into the door, “Just fucking tell me, Jake.”

“You’re cute when you’re mad.” Jake smirks and you push his shoulders harder, “I swear to god. I gave you what you wanted. You have the names. What more do you want?”

“I need you to stop them from placing them into protective custody.” Jake says calmly, “Your work is far from done, babe.“

“They’re not going.” You mumble as you step back, “According to Cody, a lot of them just laughed and hung up, said something about let them come or whatever.”

Jake laughs, “Oh that’s hilarious. They really think they can take us on?” He shakes his head, “That’s.. I needed a laugh. Oh fuck, is that funny or what.”

You stare at him, unsure of what to say.

“Make sure it stays that way, will ya?” Jake walks around you and without even thinking, you grab his arm, pulling him to you, “What more do you want from me?”

“I think you’re asking that for yourself.” Jake whispers, “What are you doing?” His eyes follow as your hand slides up his chest, “Y/n.”

“Do you want this to happen or not?” You look up at him and Jake takes a deep breath, “I would love for this to happen, but you’ve been drinking, and I do have respect for you.”

“I’m fine.”

“I don’t think you are, baby.” Jake steps back, cupping your cheeks with his hands, “You’ll hate yourself even more in the morning if we go through with this. I’m saying no because you don’t need a distraction right now. You need to sleep.”

You stay silent, pushing yourself away from him before walking back to your room and slamming the door.

You sit on the bed, staring at the floor as your mind races, asking yourself what the hell you’re doing.

Your bedroom door opens and Jake steps in, “Ben is home.”

“You better go. I don’t know how I’d explain you being here after he saw me at dinner with Cody.” You stand up, reaching behind you to unzip your dress.

You let out a frustrated sigh as you can’t grasp the small zipper.

“Here.” Jake whispers as he reaches to spin you around, “I got you.”

He drags the zipper down your back, his head tilting as your bare back is exposed to him. He licks his lips, leaning in to whisper in your ear, “We’ll have our moment, just not like this.”

He steps back, freezing as footsteps and shuffling fill the hall. You can hear him and Nat laughing as they file into the room Ben is staying in.

“Gonna be a long night, yeah?” Jake laughs slightly and you scoff, “uh huh.”

Jake reaches back, locking the door, “I can stay for a while?”

“Do you not trust me?” You walk over to your dresser, pulling out a shirt and a pair of shorts. Jake watches as you drop the dress, revealing your figure to him and he clears his throat quietly, “We’ve been over this, y/n.”

You change into your clothes, “So your minions, following me to dinner was what, to get ahead of me?”

Jake nods, “Pretty much. But I also want you safe.”

“No, you need me safe. You’re scared I’m going to turn on you.”

“Are you scared I’m going to turn on you?”

You stay silent asJake walks over to you, “You may not have done the killing, but there’s blood on your hands, too, sweetheart,”

Your brain was clouded, you couldn’t sort through anything, no thoughts were clear, “Fuck. Fuck.” You lay your hands over your face but Jake pulls them away, “Listen to me. As long as you do as I ask, you’re safe. Why do you think I flipped out on Johnnie for hitting your side of the car?”

“Why did you even let someone who doesn’t know how to drive, drive in the first goddamn place?” You throw your hands up and let them slap your thighs.

“Quiet down.” Jake whispers, fingers brushing your jaw, “and calm down.”

“D-“

“Calm. Down.”

You take a deep breath, the sound of laughter and the bed hitting the wall sounds and you can’t help but laugh, “Oh my god. I can’t.. I can’t believe this is my life.”

Tears form in your eyes, but you continue to laugh, “Oh my god.”

“Are you good?” Jake asks and you look at him, “Oh yeah. I’m great. I might be losing it, but I’m gre-“

Jake cuts you off with a kiss to your lips, which he allows you to deep. His hands squeeze your face as he pulls back, “No, I told myself-“

“I don’t care what you told yourself.” You breathe out, “Just don’t think about it.” You pull him back in for a kiss and walk him backwards, pushing him down onto the bed before you crawl up to straddle him.

“Not like I can tell anyone about this anyway.” You smirk down at him and his hands move up to grip your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as you grind down on him.

“I probably would have lost it if i seen him fucking you.”

“I could tell by the look on your face, Jake.” You lean down, lips connecting to his.

He rolls over, his hips between your knees as his lips find your neck, “We shouldn’t be doing this.” You groan quietly at his words, “Why?”

“Like you said, baby.” He lifts his head, tilting it as he flicks his brows up, “Might fall in love.”

You smirk, “That such a bad thing?”

He nods with a quiet laugh, “I mean, yes and no.”

“Do you not want to?” You sit up onto your elbows, “I’m giving you full opportunity here.”

Jake sits up, “I know. I know.”

You sigh, “It’s fine. You can go now.” You move up the bed, getting under the blankets, “I’m sure I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’m going to be gone a few days. I have names that need crossed off.” Jake says as he stands up and you nod, keeping your stare away from him.

“Y/n.” He asks lowly, “Are you o-“

“I’m fine.” You cut him off, pulling the blankets up to your chin, “Just fucking fine.”

Jake nods and lets out a quiet sigh, “I’ll catch up with you in a few days.”

You stay still until you know he’s gone. A part of you is so sad that he left, but the other part or you can only wonder one thing.

Who the hell am I becoming?

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

I know this is short, but I honestly felt like this is a good set up for part 4 👀 let me know what you think. I love you so much. Thank you for reading! I’ll see you in the next one!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[reiderwriter]

Here Isn't Where I Wanna Be

Chapter Four of I Can't Help Myself

Summary: With Spencer gone, you find yourself spiralling into anger again until a new friend - and a silver lining to your entire situation - appears.

Warnings: Unplanned pregnancy, mentions of the smut in the last chapter in detail, no explicit smut.

A/N: And so we get to it - the plot!! If you're enjoying the series, let me know in the replies or in my inbox, and feedback is greatly appreciated~♡

Masterlist || Add yourself to the taglist

With Mondays back to normal, you were surprised to find yourself still under the weather the day after Spencer had left you. 

Walking into your office, your body anticipated the fight, muscles tensing, heart beating, blood pumping as you opened the door to your office. Logically, you knew he wouldn't be there. He'd practically shouted it at you the Saturday before. But seeing the vacant desk left you angry once again. 

Tense for a fight, you couldn't stop pacing back and forth in your office as the hours ticked on. A small part of you had hoped that the activities you'd indulged in during the weekend - and indulged was the word for whatever it was you'd done - had simply been your over active imagination once again. 

But even though Spencer has cleaned you up to the best of his ability, had left you in your bed in fresh clothes and tucked under the covers, he couldn't erase the traces of himself on your skin or in your apartment. 

The files you'd both thrown around on the tables were still strewn haphazardly around, the tangle of last night's clothes still discarded suggestively in a line to your couch. He'd washed you up, sure enough, and you'd found a towel and wash cloth in your laundry basket the next morning, but he'd not done a thorough job and you found yourself washing all traces of your activities away from your inner thighs still. 

So, yes. You paced in your office, and you waged a silent war against the empty desk. 

The first week, you were sure they'd come to collect it, to move it elsewhere. 

After all, his time with you - with the university - was done. 

After two weeks, you started spreading yourself out across both desks, twisting them around into an inverted L space so you could roll your chair between the two of them. You stacked books on the stupid reminder of him, you used it as a dining table on late nights and short lunch breaks, you kicked your feet up on it as you read and acted as though it were yours and had never been anyone else's. 

And then you got angry enough that you unblocked Spencer Reid's number. 

You were raging and suffering this torment alone, and why should you be? You'd made a mistake with the case files, sure, but you'd been driven to it by his cockiness, his actions. You deserved the chance to make his life hell one last time as well. 

You took yourself home that night, wrapped yourself in a blanket and pulled your laptop in front of you, and unblocked his number. 

Immediately, you put the phone down and opened your emails. 

You'd take responsibility for the messages, sure, but you had not blocked his email. Searching through the files, you looked through your department database for his work email, searched your inbox for his messages, and came up blank. 

It took you two hours of traipsing through each email - admittedly, you'd probably signed up to one to many mailing list - just to be sure. You finally turned to your spam folder, and there it was. 

“Son of a bitch,” you muttered under your breath as you looked through ten emails. Ten emails from his FBI email account. No wonder they hadn't gotten throug, it was an unauthorised email on a company server. 

You only grew angrier as you read through the messages. 

“Y/N, I have reason to believe you have a file I need as soon as possible. Please message me back as soon as you get this. Spencer.”

“Y/N. I haven't received word from you in 24 hours. If there's something wrong, please reach out. If you're being stubborn, I hope you see reason. Spencer.”

“Y/N. I have your address. If you don't reply in the next four hours, I will be paying you a visit to collect the file myself. You have blocked my number and resisted adult conversation, and I am tired of playing these games. Spencer.”

Sick of playing games? 

From the man that had been playing jenga and scrabble with your bookshelves, that was absolutely rich. You may have worked out that nights frustrations with him easily, but you found yourself angry all over again.

You hadn't even checked your phone yet either, sure that he'd blown that up too until he figured out his number was blocked. 

He'd found your address. He'd practically stalked you to get what he wanted, and then he'd just washed his hands of you the night after? 

It had been a month, and you were still frustrated. 

Your stomach flipped, bike rising in your throat as your anger burned through you.

If he could find you, you sure as hell could find him. You'd assumed he'd found your address through work, and realised it was just as easy to find his as well.  

Before you could stop yourself, you were loading yourself into a car at 8 pm. and driving across the city to Spencer Reid's apartment. 

The red blurring your vision didn't fade until you sounded against his door and were greeted with an entirely too feminine “I'm coming!” 

The woman who opened the door was blonde and cute and sweet, and she had a wonderful smile. You were going to rip Spencer Reid's throat from his chest. 

“I-I’m sorry, I was told this is Spencer Reid's apartment,” you said, trying your best to disappear into the night.

“Oh, yes. Can I help you?” 

“No. No, I'm sorry, I- I don't need help.” 

You must've looked uneasy in that second because before you knew it, the woman was inviting you inside for a hot drink, taking your few seconds of hesitancy to push down your guards completely. 

“Spencer doesn't keep much here in terms of food, but I know there has to be some…aha! Coffee!” 

“No, thank you, really I'm alright, I should leave-” 

In another two minutes, she'd talked you into sitting down and had put a mug in your hands. In a miracle turn of events, you'd actually relaxed enough to take in your surroundings. 

It was like you'd stepped back into your work office. Spencer's apartment, or at least the main living space, was filled with books. There were stacks everywhere, the shelves alphabetised - obviously - and looking neatly chaotic. 

You wanted to examine everything, every picture, every trinket on the shelf, every weakness he had that you could exploit. You wanted to know him. 

“S-So,” you started, turning back to the woman who'd sat herself down in a chair opposite you, staring at you excitedly. “How long have you and Spencer been dating?” 

The woman spluttered her coffee before sending up a howl of laughter that had your cheeks heating. 

Okay. Misunderstanding. You were less pissed at Spencer, but only a fraction.

“Oh, god, the idea of me and the good doctor is incredibly ridiculous. No, it feels incestuous, actually. Really, like shivers down my spine type stuff.”

“So you're his sister?” You asked, even though you knew the answer. Spencer was an only child. You had spent three months with him, you knew at least that much about him. 

“I'm Penelope, I work with Spencer. He's on a case right now, and I came to find him a book.” 

“A book?” You asked again, taking another sip of your drink. Mistake aside, you felt comfortable sitting with her. The couch was comfy, the entire apartment was damn cosy, and it smelt….

Your spine straightened when you realised it smelt like he did, when you realised that thought was somehow a comfort to you. Your stomach had settled for the first time in a week, and the nausea leaving your body after four weeks of anger had made you sick. 

“Yeah, we've been working back to back cases, so he didn't have time to come back and pick up materials, so here I am as his little fairy godfriend to send him a care package.” 

You laughed gently and pulled your feet underneath you on the couch, curling up again. 

“He doesn't deserve you.” 

“What makes you say that?” Her face was open. Her tone was light  but you felt that you'd just walked into a trap. Even though Penelope had described her role on the team to you (not a profiler, not a big risk), you couldn't help but feel as though you were walking into a trap. 

“Well, he's… he's… You know the man better than I do, right? He's infuriating.”

She raised an eyebrow and gave you a smile but didn't say a word. 

“He's domineering. He thinks his way is the best way, he- he- he rearranged my bookshelves!” 

And my guts, you thought to yourself, holding your tongue just quick enough to not let that slip out. You still weren't sure where you stood on the sex. It was good. It was great. It was more than great, and yet you'd hated him until the very second he put his lips on yours, and you hated him again when you'd woken the next morning. Surely that meant that you'd still hated him while fucking him, that you'd just been temporarily blinded by lust? 

“Your bookshelves?” 

“At the university. Sorry, I- I didn't introduce myself, did I?” You told her your name, how you'd met Spencer and regaled her with tales of your office antics. 

“Penelope you, you should've seen the look on his face. It was priceless! Like a deer in headlights, his eyes were so wide, it was adorable,” you said, recounting the run-in with the student. 

“And then, infuriating man, he said he'd spent all day looking at me, but like, with the books-” 

You realised after five minutes of talking that Penelope had gone completely quiet, just grinning. Uncharacteristically quiet. You'd known her less than an hour, and you knew it was uncharacteristic for her to be so quiet. 

“So you hate him?” She asked, noticing your abrupt stop. 

“I- yes. Yes, I did. I do."

“It doesn't sound like you-” 

“We- we parted on really bad terms. I think. I took one of your files accidentally, and he was very angry, we both said some things-” And did some other things, you thought. 

“Things that I'm sure we both regret.” 

“Oh my god-” the other woman said, suddenly going wide-eyed and jumping up from the couch. 

“You're the- you're the reason he was late! He's never been late, never, apart from - well anyway he's never late but he was late and… oh Miss Y/N, you're not telling me everything!” 

“What? N-No, I don't know what you're-” 

“Luke owes me $20. This is wonderful. Look at me, I'm not even a fancy shmancy profiler or anything!” 

“Penelope please-” 

She heard the plea in your tone and sat down again, zipping her lips up and throwing away a non-existent key. 

“While we were…arguing, he accused me of having blocked his email, ignoring him on purpose. I found out today that he emailed from his FBI account and not his university email-” 

“So it was sent to your spam folder? Yeah, it happens all the time.” 

You shot her a tired look, and she repeated her action. Lips zipped, key thrown.

“I came here to….” To what? Fight with him again? See him again? To one up him? To kiss him again, feel his hands on you, feel his fingers inside of you, his tongue on your clit as you rode his face again, his hands around your throat as you came on his dick, as he blew his load inside you, filling you with his cum- 

“Shit.” 

“Shit? What's… what is shit, Y/N? Please enlighten me, because everything seems very not shit to me right now, other than the fact that I'm due a video call from our boy wonder soon and I haven't located this book yet.

You counted in your head and then recounted again as all the blood drained from your body. You didn't even want to acknowledge the fact that you'd come here just to see him again  using whatever old excuse you could find to get back into his arms (or more accurately, his bed). 

You counted, and you counted again until your brain fogged, and you couldn't even hear Penelope asking you if you were alright anymore. 

“Penelope, I- I think… Penelope, can you keep a secret?” 

“Yes, I can absolutely keep a secret. I'm a great secret keeper. Everyone says if you want a secret keeping, Penelope is your girl-” 

“Okay, that's- that's enough. I need to- shit, I need to go and get…” 

For the thousandth time since Spencer left, you stood up and started pacing. 

“Okay, now you're worrying me, friend I just made. Please don't freak out on me.” 

“I'm sorry, I'm going to freak out, I think I'm pregnant. Very much freaking out.”

All of a sudden, Penelope was up and pacing beside you. 

“Pregnant! With a baby? You think you're pregnant with a baby?”

“I don't see how I could be pregnant with anything else?” 

“You're sure?”

“No! I need a test or a sign from God or something.” 

The woman took a deep breath herself and then grabbed your shoulders, hauling you to her side. 

“Okay, breathe. You sit here, I’ll go pick up a test. Don't go anywhere and don't spiral. Rearrange the bookshelves of you must but don't. Leave. Okay?” 

You nodded, and she rushed out of the door in a whirlwind.

For at least ten minutes, you stayed completely still. It had been roughly seven weeks since your last period and 26 days since you and Spencer had sex. He hadn't pulled out. He hadn't worn a condom. He hadn't asked if you were on birth control. As much as you wanted to be angry, though, you hadn't told him to pull out. You hadn't stopped him and asked him to put on a condom, and if you were telling the truth, you enjoyed it all the more when he'd finished inside you. You'd forgotten that you'd gone off your birth control when you'd started your job, knowing that tenure came with health insurance and wanting to get the implant cheaper or included in your premium. 

What a brilliant plan.

Still, you weren't expecting this, and you were in a haze. 

Seven weeks. You'd missed a period, and you hadn't even noticed. 

You stopped spiralling when you paced into the bookshelves and started actually looking at the things laid about on his shelves. 

There were chess pieces, small rooks placed here and there, as if dropped and forgotten. Paper stuck out of the books at all different angles, and you noticed his looping scrawl on a few of them, his notes brief and indecipherable, but still bringing a faint smile to your lips. 

Then there were the pictures. There were a lot with an older woman you instantly recognised as his mother, and your heart softened as how they looked very protective of one another. Others showed him with his team, with Penelope, and a stern looking middle-aged man, two women, a happy looking, well-built man. There were weddings, faces that popped up here and there. There was a very young, very vulnerable looking Spencer playing chess with an older man. 

The room was filled with family, and you couldn't stop the tears from welling up in your eyes as you took in how much Spencer could love. 

He cared, and he cared deeply, and there were all these people in his life that enjoyed being around him. And he hated you. 

Your heart sank, and you were about to leave when Penelope appeared again, test in hand and gently pushed you into the bathroom. 

You took the test and waited. Penelope waited beside you, clutching your (clean) hands in hers as she talked you through her day, distracting you in the only way she could.

But your brain resisted everything, focused only on how you were about to grow a family with a man you knew didn't enjoy your company. 

“What am I going to do, Penelope?” You whispered, suddenly afraid of what your future looked like. 

“I can't - I can't raise a baby with a man that doesn't love me the way-” 

You ran a hand through your hair, biting your tongue quickly. 

“You don't have to answer me, but is it… is there a chance it could be Spencer's?” 

You nodded before you could even think of lying, too wrapped up in your mental to-do list building up and up and up. 

“It could be negative? This could just be panic and stress and-” 

You heard the alarm you'd set for the test go off and jumped up, sprinting into the bathroom. 

Two lines. What did two lines mean? Two lines meant baby. 

Baby. You were having a baby. 

“Y/N, what does it say?” Penelope asked from behind you. 

“It's… I'm…shit.” 

She came up behind you and looked herself, cursing the same way you did as she watched you for your reaction. 

There was a baby. You were going to have a baby. 

Okay. You could have a baby. You could bring a baby into this world. You just had to figure out how, and write a to-do list, and avoid telling your boss until you got tenure, and tell your parents, and tell Spencer. 

Spencer. 

You had to Spencer. You collapsed to the ground, mumbling to yourself as Penelope fanned you with her hands, squeaking at your unresponsiveness. 

“Spencer…” you mumbled. “I have to tell Spencer.”

You blinked the fog out of your eyes and stood quickly, absent mindedly making a note to check if sudden movements were good for the baby or not. 

“Penelope, I need some help,” you said, moving to the living room and pulling our your phone. She trailed behind you, sending you a worrying look, and you thanked the heavens that you'd managed to run into the most forgiving angel of a woman on quite possible the best/worst day of your life. The jury waa still undecided. 

You snapped a picture of the shelves, and then, throwing your phone down, you started tearing each stack apart. 

Once you'd made a large enough gap in the stacks, you turned back to Penelope. 

“We're going to tell Spencer. Like this.” 

🔖@stillhere197 @understandingsunrise @mindfullycriminal @aliteralsemicolon @r-3dlips @alexafromamazon15 @jasf444 @subunitless @thebloomingeagle @lackingoriginalthoughts @empressgraytea @nox-sprite @alondralolll @allspicestones @chiyozai @i_heart_mgg @2hiigh2cry @tiyuel @jiuseoks @readinglatenights @placidus @dreamsarebig @pisceslovrr @waywardgoddess66 @tampon_racecar @kbaby-024 @luvdella @feyresqueen @a1dyn @pleasantwitchgarden @kolasbombaf @lovehadlovelost @kissesforspence @moonchildooh @bubbleebubz @theoraekenslover @melagem02 @calypso-read @ari-aurelia @flipsideoflife @spicyspirit @donttrustlove @chicaconfundidaycuriosa @ivet4 @nox-xie @sarakay-gvf @miss-ev @nvrlandqueen

[asdfghjklmals]

MILESTONES✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff. suggestive comments. WORD COUNT: 6.0k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc, dadtobe!gojo, pregnant!oc, established couple. a lil' jealous!oc.

SYNOPSIS: a compilation of short stories about the stages of pregnancy with oc gojo girlfriend and satoru. AUTHOR'S NOTE: please make sure to read 'accidents' before milestones. i couldn't have you guys miss out on oc gojo girlfriend and satoru's pregnancy journey. it was so fun to write this. a lot of research went into the baby gojo chronicles, i honestly think my fbi agent thinks i'm pregnant. REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

8 weeks: the first pre-natal appointment

it has been two weeks since you and satoru decided that you were going to keep the baby. this week was your first pre-natal appointment to "meet" baby gojo. you couldn't tell who was more nervous, you or satoru.

during your appointment, satoru sat in the exam room as the nurse drew your blood to perform tests and to confirm the pregnancy. the nurse also performed a pap smear, which freaked satoru out after he saw what a speculum looked like. he said it looked like a 'torture chamber tool' and you wholeheartedly agreed with him.

you exchanged soft smiles with satoru multiple times throughout your appointment. satoru was engrossed with the entire process. his curiousness was adorable in your eyes as he asked your nurse questions about all the procedures and tests she was performing. about an hour later after receiving the results of your blood tests, your doctor entered the room.

“well, first things first, congratulations on your pregnancy (y/n)! your blood test came back positive with hcg.” your doctor began, “now let’s talk about some upcoming lifestyle changes you'll have to make.”

“wait, when do we get to see the baby?” satoru interrupted. you glared at him, dark green eyes telling him ‘shut up, satoru’.

“we’ll perform the ultrasound after this, satoru.” your doctor chimed. “(y/n), i want you to start taking a pre-natal. stop eating raw fish, deli meats, and eat thoroughly cooked meats for now.”

you blinked twice. that meant no sushi for you. your heart sank a little. satoru noticed the disappointment shift in your mood. he felt a little guilty.

"so that's why you had me cook your steak well-done..." satoru whispered to himself. you scoffed at his sudden realization from two weeks ago. (read ‘accidents’ here)

“do you or satoru have any pre-existing medical conditions in either families?”

“no. but he might be pre-diabetic by the time he’s 40.” you snorted.

satoru chuckled and reported back, “there’s nothing on my side of the family to note.”

“that’s great to hear. just be aware of gestational diabetes, (y/n). i know you love your chocolate ice cream so watch your intake.” your doctor typed some notes in your patient profile, “your due date is looking close to october 14th. any other questions?”

“can the baby come earlier?” satoru quickly asked.

your doctor smiled at the both of you, “i wouldn’t necessary call it early, but babies are considered full term at 37 weeks. it would be good for the baby to be born around or after that time.”

“uhm, do you think i’ll be able to give birth vaginally?” you asked next. your sister-in-law had to have c-sections, so that worried you. her recovery was a journey for her and honestly, it scared you. but you were willing to do whatever it takes to make sure baby gojo arrived safely.

“as long as there aren’t any complications, of course. we can plan on that. we'll just have to monitor how your pregnancy is going.” your doctor picked up on yours and satoru’s quiet and awkward social queues, "and yes, you can still have sex while you're pregnant.

"oh, thank god." satoru sighed in relief as you smacked him with the back of your hand. he was so embarrassing.

"please, just ignore him." you looked at your doctor, cheeks cherry red.

she laughed and asked the most important question of the day, “are you guys ready to meet your baby?”

you nodded your head and giggled, “yes. i think satoru’s more excited than i am. he won't shut up about it.”

“i’ve been waiting two weeks for this moment.” satoru said with a sheepish smile, his hand scratching the back of his fresh undercut. his blue eyes peeking through from his sunglasses.

“okay, let’s get started then.” your doctor announced while snapping on her sterile gloves. “we’ll be performing a transabdominal ultrasound today, nothing painful.”

she squeezed a handful of gel to apply to your belly. you jumped in your seat.

“are you okay?” satoru asked, concerned at your sudden movement.

you reassured him, “yeah, the gel is just cold.”

your doctor laughed in amusement and started to rub the wand around your abdomen. you heard a fast thumping noise.

“is that the heartbeat?” you wondered, looking at the black and white screen. satoru smiled from ear-to-ear as he cupped his cheek in his right hand, his left hand squeezing yours. hearing his baby’s heartbeat might take the cake for one of his favorite sounds in the world, next to your laugh.

your doctor reported back, “yup. a healthy 138 bpm. i’m gonna take some pictures now…”

you saw a tiny circle in the middle of the monitor as your doctor clicked away on her computer mouse.

“is that the baby?” satoru asked, squinting at the monitor.

“yes. you see the little image that looks like a bean?” she clicked again, “it’s about half an inch… that’s your baby.”

“it’s so cute. how tiny. a baby bean…” you gushed. you turned to look at satoru. he was itching his eyes.

“satoru gojo, are you crying?” you asked in disbelief.

he quickly defended himself, avoiding all eye contact with you. “no! something just got in my eye.”

he was such a liar. his infinity would never allow anything to touch his precious six eyes.

your doctor laughed at the sweet moment between the two of you. you watched the love of your life stare at the black and white screen in amazement. your heart felt like it was going to burst watching him. you wanted to hold him tightly and never let go.

12 weeks: surprise! we’re pregnant!

it was so hard for you and satoru to keep your pregnancy a secret for the past 6 weeks. the only two people who knew you were pregnant were shoko and megumi.

your doctor had advised you to wait until the end of your first trimester to announce your pregnancy because of the risk of miscarriage. once you made it past the first trimester, you thought about how you were going to tell everyone. of course, you and satoru wanted it to be a surprise. an imaginary lightbulb lit above your head.

“babe, i have an idea.” you said excitedly, grabbing satoru’s arm as he was looking through your office drawers for something sweet to snack on.

“hmmm. what is it, sweetheart?” he asked as he unwrapped a piece of chocolate. you always kept a stash of satoru's favorite chocolates in your desk for him because he loved to hide in your office and avoid his sensei duties.

“you know how we usually take a group picture with the faculty, students, and sister school every year? let's tell principal yaga to schedule it early this year.”

“oh, i like where this is going.” satoru laughed. he read your mind. you high-fived him. he gave you a quick peck on the cheek. couples’ telepathy was really a thing.

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

“and why do we have to be here?” maki complained as she folded her arms. she wanted to train, not take a silly picture.

“come on, maki! it’s tradition to get a picture of all the students and faculty. it’s just that we’re taking the picture earlier than usual this year.” panda said as he patted her back.

“even okkotsu came back from his training to be in the picture. my sister flew in just to be in it too.” megumi said as he watched yuta interact with the students from kyoto. tsumiki was attached to your hip. megumi already knew the real reason why the picture was scheduled so early in the school year and why tsumiki was asked to be in the picture.

“alright! everyone looks great.” yuji cheered as he walked to his assigned spot for the group picture.

principal yaga gathered everyone, “please make your way to the field and get into your assigned spots. satoru will be pressing the button for the camera since he can teleport to his spot quickly.”

you nervously watched as all the students and jujutsu high faculty made their way to their spots, getting ready for the picture.

“okay everyone!” satoru shouted as he prepared himself to teleport next to you and megumi, “i’m pressing the timer!”

satoru appeared by your side as the 10 second timer ticked. satoru sneakily pressed record instead taking of a picture. “everyone say ‘(y/n)-sensei’s pregnant’!”

everyone stopped to look at you and satoru in confusion.

“what?”

“what did he say?”

“huh?!”

“(y/n)-sensei… is pregnant?!”

“wait what?”

“holy shit, (y/n)-sensei is pregnant!”

after a few seconds of questioning, everyone realized what had just happened. you had just announced your pregnancy.

in that moment, you were tackled by tsumiki, megumi, yuji, nobara, and yuta as they cheered around you in a group hug. ijichi, akari, principal yaga, nanami, ino, mei, utahime and shoko were all congratulating satoru. they took turns speaking with the both of you, giving you well wishes on a safe and healthy pregnancy.

“congrats, (y/n)-sensei.” maki said with a soft smile, embarrassed she complained about being here. she wouldn’t have wanted to miss this.

panda added, “yes, congratulations! we’re excited to see you and satoru become parents.”

“salmon, salmon!” toge congratulated you in his own words.

“thanks everyone. if you guys aren’t busy, we’re going to have a celebratory dinner tonight at splendid sushi. satoru’s treat.” you winked.

“hey! i heard that!” satoru shouted at you from across the field as he grinned. both you and satoru were thrilled to see everyone’s excitement on the news of baby gojo.

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

“are you nervous to tell my brother you knocked up his little sister?” you teased satoru. you kissed his cheek as he brushed the loose strands of black hair behind your ear.

“nah, i’m sure he wants nieces and nephews for his kids. plus, it was an accident.” he joked as he drummed his fingers on the restaurant table. you and satoru people-watched through the restaurant window, waiting for touya and his wife. (a/n: yeah, touya is married with 2 kids now. his wife’s name is hana. a non-sorcerer. maybe i'll write a wedding fic.)

you smiled as you saw your brother walk into the restaurant, holding the door open for hana. touya’s black hair and golden-yellow eyes beamed when he saw you satoru.

“satoru! how have you been, bro?!” touya greeted his self-proclaimed brother, pulling him in for a bro hug.

“i can’t believe he hugged satoru first.” you looked at hana in disbelief as she giggled, hugging you instead.

“they really are bestfriends now.” hana realized as she sat across from you.

satoru sat back down in his seat next to you, touya sitting across from him. “glad you guys could have lunch with us. it’s been awhile.”

“we have a gift for you guys! a souvenir from our last trip.” you lied to your brother and sister-in-law. you pushed a card and white box towards them.

“open it. it’s special, made especially for you.” satoru urged, touya and hana taking the card to open first.

“what do you get a brother who already has everything?” touya read out loud. hana curiously reading along with him. satoru placed his hand on your thigh. the both of you were grinning from ear-to-ear watching the two open the box. they pulled out a beige baby onesie.

touya read the text on the onesie, “how about the title uncle and auntie…?”

after putting 2+2 together, touya hid his face with his hands, both him and hana were so happy for you and satoru. your eyes started to water watching them. a tearful laugh came out of you.

“congratulations, you two. my baby sis is having a baby...” touya said as he got up to embrace you.

you hugged him tighter, “thanks, touya…” you softly said. the warmth of your brother's love and support making you extremely emotional. these pregnancy hormones were out. of. control.

18 weeks: an important question

"aren't you curious to what the gender is?" shoko asked you and satoru. you asked shoko to join you two for lunch today because you had an important question to ask the amber-eyed doctor in regards to your unborn child.

you took a bite of your chicken katsu before answering, "of course we are. but we decided not to find out because we want it to be a surprise."

“what do you want it to be? a boy or girl?”

“it doesn’t matter. as long as baby gojo is healthy.” satoru stereotypically said as he stretched his arm to rest over your shoulder. he secretly wanted a girl.

you added, “we raised megumi and tsumiki. we already experienced the best of both worlds. so i’m not picky.”

“i guess i’m just being selfish because i want to know the gender.” shoko laughed as she took a sip of her mimosa.

“oh! shoko, we have a present for you.” you said as you put down your chopsticks. you turned to satoru and he grabbed another white box with a card attached do it, similar to the one you gave touya and hana.

“it better be the gender of your baby.” she laughed as she took the present from satoru.

“it’s something even better.” satoru said with his signature shit-eating grin.

shoko opened the card, reading it out loud, “i need an extra pair of hands to help me learn and grow… i know that yours will be the best because mommy and daddy told me so…?” she looked at the card, confused.

you asked her clearly while trying not to laugh, “shoko, will you be baby gojo’s godmother?”

shoko stared at both you and satoru after she realized what you had just asked of her. she started to chuckle as she got out of her seat to hug you. “of course, i will. hopefully your baby won’t grow up to be a little shit like satoru.” she said as she punched the white-haired sorcerer in the arm, satoru completely letting her bypass his infinity to do so.

“there’s another gift in there.” satoru added, pointing at the giant glass.

shoko picked up the pint glass and read the etching, “you drink too much. you smoke too much. and you cheated on your medical exam. we can’t think of anyone more suitable to be baby gojo’s godmother.”

shoko laughed, “okay, this might have been better than finding out the gender of your baby.”

26 weeks: baby gojo’s first (external) kick

megumi came home this weekend to spend time with you, satoru, and tsumiki. normally, he would be spending his free time exploring japan with nobara and yuji, but since you were pregnant and tsumiki was back for her semester break from her study abroad program, he wanted to spend his free time with his family.

you were in the kitchen with tsumiki making dinner while satoru and megumi sat around the living room with his demon dogs, shiro and kuro. catoru was lounging in their cat scratch post and your spirit birds were out on the patio enjoying the weather. you didn’t realize how zoo-like your home was until now... and that wasn't even including all of megumi's shikigami either.

while chopping vegetables, tsumiki updated you on her high school adventures abroad. ever since she started at e.f. academy, she has been non-stop on-the-go with extracurricular activities. she told you about her latest projects, how the weather was in california, about all the friends she made, and even the boy she had a small crush on. (read 'wherever you are' here)

on the couch, megumi spoke with satoru about his shikigami and how he’s been able to tame a majority of them now. this was the first time in awhile those two haven’t bickered in your presence, and it was a sight to behold.

you rested your hands on your belly as you leaned your back against the kitchen counter, listening to your sweet teenager talk about how cute her crush was. you reminisced about your time in high school, how you thought satoru was a complete asshole when you first met him, and how his good looks and horrible personality made up for it. if your 18 year old self could see you now, she wouldn’t believe the sight. (read 'love at first fight' here)

you felt a little tap against your hands. “huh?” you said out loud, realizing what you just felt on your hands.

“(y/n)? are you okay?” tsumiki asked as she put down the chopping knife. satoru and megumi turned around from the couch, all the attention was on you.

“i think baby gojo just kicked my hand.” you announced. only you were able to feel baby gojo kick internally for the past couple weeks, but now, you thought that satoru and the kids would be able to actually feel the kicks from the outside too.

“hurry, come over here!” you said frantically, hoping baby gojo would kick again. satoru dramatically teleported beside you as megumi hopped over the couch ledge to race over to the kitchen, kuro and shiro following him.

you took all three of their hands and placed it on your belly where you thought baby gojo was. the demon dogs sniffed around you, their tails wagging happily. you pursed your lips, waiting for another kick. you felt kuro and shiro licking your hands.

and there it was. another gentle kick from baby gojo.

“i felt it!” tsumiki cheered as she jumped around the kitchen. her bright smile lighting up the room.

satoru hugged you from behind. you both smiled while watching tsumiki and megumi. megumi looked at his hand, and then back at your stomach.

“did you feel it, megumi?” you asked him with a smile.

“yeah, i did.” he said softly. “that was pretty cool.”

“what about you, daddy?” you grinned as you asked satoru.

megumi gagged at satoru’s new title, “gross. i’m leaving.”

you and satoru watched as your moody teenager made his way back to the couch, tsumiki’s attention back on chopping vegetables. satoru’s arms were still wrapped around you, his face nuzzled in the crook of your neck. baby gojo kicked once more.

“i think baby gojo is saying ‘let go of us so mommy can finish cooking’.” you giggled as you turned around to face the white haired sorcerer. you caressed his cheek with your palm. he snuck two kisses on your neck.

“fine… but i expect some alone time later.” he winked at you before kissing the palm of your hand.

you laughed, “sorry, babe, the kids are home this weekend, plus you get me all to yourself next week when we go to mexico for our baby moon.”

30 weeks: a first time parents' class

"babe, get ready. i signed us up for a class."

"what kind of class? it better not be another ‘how to have sex while pregnant’ class." you rolled your eyes at the ridiculous class that satoru signed you up for at the beginning of your pregnancy. you sighed, your belly weighing you down on your very comfortable white couch that you would probably need satoru's help getting out of.

he grinned at you as he grabbed your purse and your shoes. "a first time parents class."

your doctor recommended that you and satoru waited until your third trimester to take a 'first time parent' class. the class would teach new parents about the different kinds of births, pain management strategies, what to do if and when your water breaks, how to time contractions, postpartum care, caring for the baby, and baby first aid.

“do we have to go?” you asked, “i’m tired.” feigning exhaustion as you put the back of your hand over your eyes and forehead.

“of course we have to go!” satoru exclaimed as he sat down next to you. he was always so excited whenever it came to anything related to baby gojo. he slipped on your white sneakers for you, swiftly tying your shoe laces bunny ear style as you sat up on your elbows. you caught yourself smiling at him. he was so doting. you could definitely get used to this.

satoru studied you. you weren't wearing any makeup today, but you had the radiant "pregnancy glow" that everyone talked about. you wore a beige dress under a white crop t-shirt that hugged your belly tightly. “you look beautiful, so no need to change or do your makeup.”

“you just don’t want to be late.” you laughed. this was the first time that satoru gojo was on time for anything.

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

satoru teleported you both to the hospital in tokyo that you go to for your all your doctor appointments. apparently the hospital was hosting the class he signed up for. there were many pregnant women with their significant others, friends, mothers, and mother-in-laws sitting around the small auditorium.

as you entered the room, you heard gasps and whispers about satoru.

“wow! what a good looking guy!”

“he’s a total hottie!”

“that guy is gonna be a dilf for sure!”

“do you see the cutie with the white hair and blue eyes?!”

“where should we sit?” satoru asked as he held your hand. you looped your free arm around his bicep covetously, staking claim to your man as if your very pregnant belly didn't do so already.

“don’t pretend like you don’t hear all the women in this room talking about you.” you hissed at him as you sat down in a seat closer to the front of the auditorium. because this happened everywhere you went with satoru, normally it wouldn't bug you, but for some reason it did today.

“somebody’s a green eyed monster today.” he sang with a smug smile. it was his favorite analogy to use when you were jealous because your green eyes were so fitting. he sat down next to you, draping his left arm around your shoulder, his right elbow perched on the arm rest. after over a decade of being with you, he was unphased by comments from other women. he ate it all up in high school, but satoru gojo became a changed man once he met you.

“am not.” you said under your breath. you stayed quiet for a moment. “babe, i just think it’s funny how—”

satoru's left ear was saved as your 'i think it's funny how' rant was interrupted by the presenter, “good afternoon! and welcome to the first time parents class!”

even though you were jealous and didn’t like how all the other women in the auditorium were drooling over satoru, you couldn’t stay mad. throughout the years, satoru’s beautiful blue eyes have never strayed and he never made you feel unwanted, even when you argued or when you were being difficult and stubborn. he was never bothered by your jealously. you were the only person he chased after since the day he met you at jujutsu high.

throughout the class, satoru took notes on his phone and asked questions during the q&a. it was hard to stay mad at a man as dedicated and involved as satoru gojo. you decided to just ignore the women in the class, however, that didn’t mean that you wouldn’t cling to satoru when the class ends.

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

“so, what’d you think about the class?” satoru asked as he placed your go-to order of ice cream in front of you. he sat across from you as you glared at his sweet, handsome, smug face.

“it was fine. we learned a lot of information, don’t you think?” you deferred as you scooped a spoonful of ice cream into your mouth.

“yeah, and i learned that you still get jealous til’ this day.” satoru poked fun at you. “remember the first time i took you shopping in shibuya? you were soooo jealous of all the girls talking about me and you weren’t even my girlfriend at the time.” he laughed at the memory. (read ‘love at first fight’ here)

you quipped back, “satoru, everyone knows that you’re the one who’s obsessed with me.”

“true,” he agreed while taking a bite of your ice cream, “but it’s nice to see that side of you every once in awhile. what’s my baby gonna do when she’s not my number one anymore?” he mocked in a playful tone, shooting a bright toothy smile at you.

your emerald green eyes pierced his sapphire blue eyes. “what do you mean by that?”

“baby gojo is gonna be my number one.” satoru said nonchalantly, licking caramel off your spoon.

you took your ice cream away from him. holding the cup closer to you instead of putting it in the middle of the table to share.

satoru chastised you, “that’s not nice, sweetheart.”

“you’re insufferable, babe.” you rolled your eyes at him. “first, you let women drool all over you in front of me, then you tell me that i’m not your number one anymore. what’s next? you don’t love me either?”

“there you go with the theatrics.” satoru sighed, folding his arms. he wouldn't expect anything less from his life partner.

“i learned from the best teacher, i think his name was satoru gojo.” you winked at him.

"it's a good thing i love you." satoru said as he leaned over the table to kiss you on the lips. he tasted just like caramel.

32 weeks: nesting

"this fucking crib is going to be the death of me." satoru muttered under his breath as he struggled putting together the 'smart' crib that he bought. as soon as satoru found out you were pregnant, he spent a whole month researching cribs to decide which one he was going to buy for baby gojo. he decided on the most expensive one, thinking that it would be the best. rich people logic. this crib was called a 'snoo'.

"you didn't have to get such a high tech crib, babe." you said as you sat on the bed folding warm, freshly washed baby clothes and baby bedding for the snoo. you admired how cute and small the onesies were. because you and satoru didn't know the gender of your baby, you bought a lot of neutral colored clothing like beiges, tans, browns, and whites.

"my baby is going to have the best everything." satoru boasted. of course, baby gojo was going to be spoiled. they had you and satoru gojo as their parents.

during the past couple of weeks, you and satoru had bought a handful of important things that new parents would need for a newborn baby such as a crib, stroller, car seat, changing table dresser, and a comfortable lounging chair for your bedroom to put next to baby gojo's crib for the late night feeds.

satoru insisted that everything would be 'nuna' branded. the employee at his favorite department store convinced him after they mentioned that nuna was the "lamborghini of baby strollers and car seats." the matching stroller and car seat system was well over $1,000, you couldn't argue with satoru about how much he was spending because it would be hypocritical of you and your spending habits. so you let him get what he wanted.

after hours of setting up the snoo, putting together the baby stroller, installing the car seat, and building the dresser, satoru sighed, "what a long day." he crawled under the covers to meet you in bed, the back of his hand covering his face in exhaustion.

“it’s a good thing you could just use blue to move the lounge chair from the front door to the bedroom. you probably would've broke your back.” you teased him, knowing satoru gojo doesn’t do manual labor.

“the one easy part about today.” he complained.

while satoru took on his fatherly projects, you were able to deep clean the apartment, put baby clothes and diapers into the newly built dresser, add the clean bedding to the snoo, and re-organize all the drawers in the apartment. you were in the nesting stage of your pregnancy.

you turned to face him, your pregnancy pillow creating a divide between you and the exhausted sorcerer. he flattened your pregnancy pillow with his arm as you took his hand to lace your fingers with.

“you could’ve hired someone to build the snoo and the dresser, satoru.” you said to him, knowing that he normally would’ve.

“yeah, i know, but this is for my baby. i want to make sure everything is perfect.”

your heart melted at the fact that satoru was giving it his all to be involved. deep down, he wanted to be a good father and you could see that. you were proud of him.

"congrats, daddy. you just spent the day nesting with me." you smiled. you knew satoru secretly adored his new title.

the white haired sorcerer laughed, “what the hell is nesting? are we birds?”

“nesting is when couples get their home ready for the baby, satoru.”

“oh yeah? spending hours organizing drawers is nesting? because there’s nothing baby gojo will hate more than the junk drawer we have in the kitchen.” satoru teased.

you kissed the back of your teeth in annoyance, “you have been saying for years that you’d clean out the junk drawer. i found crayons in there from when megumi was in elementary school. he's a high schooler now. it only took me getting knocked up for it to finally be clean.”

you turned your body away from satoru. he moved your pregnancy pillow so he could cling to you (and so that he could be the big spoon).

“i’m just kidding, babe.” he whispered in your ear, kissing the back of your shoulder blade with his soft lips.

“uh huh. go to sleep, satoru.” you replied back to him, attempting to shut your eyes.

“so feisty…” satoru mumbled, still peppering soft kisses along your shoulder blade.

37 weeks: full term

"well... i can give birth at any time now." you said as you read your 'what to expect' app.

satoru placed his free hand on your stomach as he joined you on the white fluffy couch in your living room. you moved satoru's hand to where baby gojo was, using his hand to press firmly into your stomach.

he quickly pulled his hand away from you, afraid that he hurt you and baby gojo, "doesn't that hurt your stomach when you press that hard?" he asked.

"babe, no. give me your hand back. you'll be able to feel baby gojo's feet." you said, reaching for his hand that he reluctantly gave back to you. he leaned over to see what the hard feeling in your stomach was.

"that's baby gojo's feet?" he asked, amazed.

"yeah, baby gojo is literally killing me right now though." you said as you shifted uncomfortably. baby gojo liked to sleep in this position, making you lay on your left side more often.

satoru frowned, he knew you were uncomfortable now more than ever. "i'm sorry, babe."

you squinted at him, "what are you apologizing for?"

"for getting you pregnant."

you couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, so you nuzzled your head on his chest. he pulled you closer to him, "don't apologize for that. apologize if i'm not able to get an epidural or something." you snickered as you looked up at him, "ready to read week 37?"

satoru nodded and kissed the top of your head as you laid against him.

"baby gojo is as big as a canary melon. estimating 19 inches, and 6 pounds. at 37 weeks, you're 9 months pregnant with the end in sight." you read out loud.

satoru took the phone from you to read his part, "at a glance, if baby gojo was born this week, they'd still be early term. baby gojo is practicing for their grand entrance by inhaling and exhaling amniotic fluid, blinking, and turning from side to side. baby gojo can grab onto things now. baby gojo is likely to be sucking their thumb a lot these days in preparation for feeding sessions."

"it says babies grow about a pound a week. the average fetus weighs about 6 pounds. and that boys are likely to be heavier than girls." you read, "since it's a little crowded in your uterus now, baby gojo may not be kicking as much. instead, they're probably stretching, rolling and wiggling." you laughed because baby gojo was still kicking strong, sometimes it was painful, stopping you in your tracks in the middle of the day.

satoru blue-eyes widened as he read the next paragraph, "here's an interesting fact. at birth, baby gojo's head, which is still growing, will be about the same circumference as their chest."

"i pray to god that baby gojo doesn't have your big head or my vagina is toast." you joked.

satoru glared at you, shaking his head while chuckling. he went back to read through some of the pregnancy symptoms. he noticed that you experienced a majority of the symptoms on the list: the pelvic pain, leg cramps, pregnancy brain, and insomnia.

because you were of small stature, you started experiencing more pressure on your pelvis as the weeks went by. sometimes satoru would hold up your belly for you with his infinity whenever you were close by, and you were thankful for such a helpful cursed technique.

before bed, satoru would feed you bananas and massage your legs to help with the leg cramps. with your breasts and stomach as big as they've ever been, you finally got your stretch marks. for the majority of your pregnancy you were stretch mark-free, they didn't appear until the third trimester. satoru liked to call them your 'tiger stripes' when he would help you apply stretch mark creams and oils to your body. him helping you apply those creams and oils was a form of intimacy you didn't know you needed during this time. satoru always knew how to make you feel confident again.

your pregnancy brain caused you to be a little forgetful, so the acrylic whiteboard in the kitchen was your bestfriend. you left little reminders on the board for yourself, satoru, and megumi throughout your pregnancy.

lastly, it was hard for you to sleep now that you were in the home stretch of your pregnancy. every sleeping position was uncomfortable, and you had to wake up multiple times a night to use the bathroom. you never got a consistent amount of sleep.

even though being pregnant was uncomfortable, you experienced some of the best memories with satoru this year: your trip to mexico gifted from touya, your surprise pregnancy announcement, asking shoko to be baby gojo’s godmother, and all the special intimate moments with satoru. your unborn baby was already so loved by everyone. you couldn't have asked for a better accidental pregnancy.

you and satoru laid on the couch together all afternoon, enjoying each other's presence in this chaotic life for jujutsu sorcerers. catoru purred and slept next to you two on the chaise, your spirit birds perched on their stands as they watched over the apartment. you dozed in and out of sleep throughout the day as sleep was rare for you lately.

you felt satoru's warm hand on your belly again, you held his hand and lifted your head, emerald greens looking towards him.

"babe, i have a serious question." you said softly.

raising your hand to kiss your knuckles, he asked you curiously, "and what's your serious question?"

"are you ready to be a dilf?" you laughed.

"are you ready to be a milf?" he asked you back, chuckling, "cause you are definitely a milf, babe."

you smiled at satoru as he continued to plant soft kisses on your hand, "yeah, i'm ready to evict baby gojo."

little did you and satoru know, baby gojo would break your water next week to make their dramatic entrance into the world. yours and satoru's lives would be forever altered.

satoru and oc gojo girlfriend go on a baby moon from week 27, read the bonus chapter, ‘baby moon’ here.

or are you ready to meet baby gojo? read the next chapter, ‘hello baby’ here.

© 2023 ASDFGHJKLMALS — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK.

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

[e-dubbc11]

for November rain again...kat dahlia has this angsty ass brekaing up song called 'just another dude' and i think it'd fit great for some nice angsty fic for my man dean :)

My lovely Selene,

Thank you for sending in your asks, for reading and sharing my fics but mostly for being such a kind friend. And thank you for participating in my follower celebration, I hope you like what I did here. This song is full of angst, I love it! I’ll link it at the end and of course I had to give this a fluffy ending ♥️

Sweet Pecan Pie

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F! Reader

Warnings: Smut (18+ please or I’m telling!) Angst, fluff, a swear word or two

Word Count: 1.8K-ish

Summary: As the owner of a small diner, you encounter all kinds of people and one in particular comes to town on a mission but keeps coming back because of you.

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

The first time he came to town was for a job, but first he stopped in for something to eat at your diner.

As his teeth sank into the burger, he moaned as the grease dripped from his lips, down onto the plate, and he made the same noise when he took a bite of the pecan pie he ordered for dessert.

“This is the best thing I have ever tasted.” He said with a spot of whipped cream stuck to his lips.

He said the same thing to you later on that night with his head buried in between your thighs lapping at your entrance, devouring you like a man starved. Whispers of his name turned him on as your orgasm started to build. His tongue moved in and out of you with long eager strokes while his hand gently pressed against your stomach to try and keep you flush with the bed.

As he continued to push you over the edge, a soft whimper escaped your lips, “Dean.”

Dean Winchester.

That wasn’t the name on the FBI badge he flashed earlier in the evening. Dean was his real name, along with his brother Sam, he told you the truth about what they did for a living…”Saving people, hunting things, the family business.”

And after he saved you from a werewolf attack, you saved him from having to find a place to sleep for the night.

You tugged gently on his hair as he continued to fuck you with his tongue, the modest pulls on his light brown hair were a silent plea for him to stop teasing you. It had been a long time since you had been properly fucked, you needed him, and he took the hint you were dropping. With each drag of his cock, Dean hit that sweet spot, bringing closer and closer to climax, whispering against your mouth, telling you how good you feel, how tight you are, and praising you for taking his whole cock like a “good girl.”

His hands explored your body like no one had ever done before. It was a surprising sensation, exhilarating, and you didn’t want it to end. Shocked by your own lack of restraint, your heavy breaths moved in tandem with his as his body ground down harder against yours, the wave of your orgasm building faster as your walls began to tighten around him.

Dean was just as desperate for a release as you were, thrusting and panting quicker now, you cry out his name just as you explode all around him, and your knees quivered as you tried to catch your breath.

Dean’s lips found yours again, his kisses were hungry and you obediently melted into those kisses while he hit his peak and a strangled moan fell from his lips into your mouth.

“You feel so good, sweetheart.” He told you, kissing the tip of your nose and smiling at you as he rolled off of you then pulled you close so you could fall asleep on his chest.

He stayed until morning, then it was time to move on, but he would call any time he was in town or close to town. The job only brought him into town the one time; he kept coming back because of you. And that’s the kind of relationship you continued to have with him which, you admit, was fun for awhile until you were starting to think that’s all you were to him…a piece of ass.

Did he have one in every town? Was that his “thing?” Did he save pretty girls from scary monsters then take them to bed like he did with you?

It continued for months and while you enjoyed every minute of it, you weren’t sure you wanted it to be like this anymore.

Tangled in each other’s limbs and wrapped up in the bed sheets, you finally worked up the courage to ask him, “Is this all we are, Dean? Is this all I am to you?”

“What are you talkin’ about, baby?” He asked in a confused tone.

Turning to face him, you asked, “Do you do this in every town you have a job in?!”

“What? No!” He shouted. “That’s what you think of me, y/n?! I don’t have to stay here and listen to this, ya know.”

Unraveling yourself from him and the sheets, you angrily threw on a t-shirt and got out of bed.

“Then don’t stay!” You replied, scolding him. “And hey, if you really want me to feel like a whore, just leave some money on my bedside table on your way out!”

You didn’t like looking like a fool, you didn’t like being used, and you certainly didn’t want to be around someone who didn’t feel the same way as you felt about them.

Your diner allowed you to meet a lot of different people from all walks of life, families, travelers, and even monster hunters.

You enjoyed Dean’s company, it wasn’t just the sex. It was the talking before and after, or when he asked you if you created any new recipes lately, and slyly asking if he could test them out before you put them on the menu for the diner.

He was so cute and sexy.

But he didn’t say much on his way out of your bedroom and out of your house, probably never to return, and leaving you alone to try and get over someone who was never yours to begin with.

**********

Weeks had passed without a word from Dean, no texts, or phone calls, and he definitely didn’t come into the diner. You were positive you had chased him out of your life for good.

And yeah, maybe you did come off a little harsh but you were certain it had everything to do with the fact that you had developed deeper feelings for him and knew he didn’t feel the same way about you. At least that's what you had assumed.

But instead of trying to talk to him, you chased him away like you did with every other relationship you had.

After closing one night, you decided to put on some music to help you finish cleaning and locking up for the night. Lately, you have been listening to a lot of angry girl rock music and tonight was no different.

You, you treat me like a fool

You're making me feel used by you

Oh what do I do to break loose

Oh I'm so confused

I guess I'll pay my dues

Why do I like this abuse by you

Oh what do I do to break loose

You're just another dude

Gritting your teeth and angrily scrubbing the counter, you continued to sing, pretending the counter was Dean’s face as you fiercely moved the sponge back and forth.

Oh, baby, you got me running running running running all over town

I got nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing to show

But these wounds are proof

It's all 'cause of you, 'cause of you

You're just another dude

With the earbuds in your ears, you didn’t hear the door open and when you turned around to find Dean standing there, you clutched your chest tightly as you felt your heart jump into your throat.

“JESUS CHRIST!” You shouted in surprise.

Dean smirked. “Nope. Just me, sweetheart. You left the door unlocked, you should be more careful.”

Narrowing your expression at him, you replied, “Very funny, Dean. What the hell are you doin’ here?”

“I’m here to talk to you.” He said. “Wait…Was that song about me?”

“They’ve all been about you lately. What of it?” You snapped, continuing to scrub the counter tops.

“Can you stop that so I can talk to you for a minute, please baby?” He asked.

You pointed a finger at him.

“Oh no, you don’t get to call me that.” You said.

Dean grabbed the sponge out of your hand and flung it across the room.

“The fuck are you doing, Dean?!!” You yelled.

“I want you to listen to what I have to say!” He said.

Leaning across the counter, you looked into his hypnotizing green eyes and said, “Fine! Talk!”

Dean wiped his lips with his thumb and forefinger before he started, You could tell he was nervous and not used to saying what he was feeling.

“Y/n, do you think I just move from town to town bedding local women?” He asked.

You replied, “I don’t know, Dean. That’s not usually a topic of conversation when your dick is buried deep inside me.”

“I do love how direct you are, sweetheart.” He said with a chuckle.

His smile quickly disappeared when he noticed how unamused you were.

“Anyway…I usually don’t come back to town after I’ve finished a job especially if I met someone. It’s a one time thing and they never see me again. I came back here because I genuinely liked you, I liked talking with you, laughing with you, eating your pie…both kinds.” He said with a wink and a devilish smile.

You were angry that he made you blush.

“And I usually don’t share my real name or life with anyone. I let you into my real life. I could have walked away after I saved you from that werewolf.” Said Dean.

“Then why didn’t you , Dean?” You asked.

A warm smile stretched across his lips as he replied, “I told you. It’s because I liked you. And I’m sorry I made you feel like you were just another notch on my belt because you’re not and look, my life isn’t exactly stable, I don’t have steady relationships because of what my brother and I do so—”

You cut him off by leaning across the counter and gently pressing your lips to his. Dean kissed you back, his hand cupping your cheek as you melted into his kiss like you had done time and time again.

It was really hard to stay mad at him when his feelings were pouring out of him like blood from an open wound.

“I like you too, Dean.” You whispered as heat rushed to your cheeks and you gave him a warm smile.

“You do?” He asked.

You nodded.

“Ok, well are you done listening to angry, man hating music? I did say I was sorry.” Said Dean.

“Maybe.” You said with a wink.

His tongue brushed against your bottom lip as you gasped against his mouth and he became frustrated with the counter directly in front of him so he climbed over and caged you in against the edge.

Dean nipped at your chin before his teeth clashed with yours in another aggressive kiss. You pulled away to ask him, “Are you hungry? I could make–”

He claimed your lips again and replied, “Oh I’m hungry sweetheart, but not for food. I want a taste of your sweet pecan pie, first.”

Warmth flushed across your cheeks as you smiled and replied, “I’ll lock the door, baby.”

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