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basketonthedoorstepofthefbi · 6 months ago

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"obstinate, headstrong girl" part 1 - aaron hotchner x fem!reader

in which you meet the incredibly irritating (who said that?) aaron hotchner at a party. you do not hit it off.

wc: 4.6k

cw: enemies to lovers! mentions of food & alcohol, jemily agenda (i'm not sorry), reader is hella stubborn, hotch is kind of a little bitch

a/n: this is part 1 😈 there will be more, trust

big fat thank you to my bestie @cerisereids for all her help workshopping / brainstorming with me! i also got the BEAUTIFUL dividers from the immensely talented @saradika-graphics

You hate bars. Most of the time, they feel like a meat market, with men ogling you up and down, surveying you like they have x-ray vision and are trying to determine if you’re worth the chase.

Tonight is slightly different in that you are not going to this particular bar to chat up men. Your very good friend, Penelope Garcia, invited you and your other friend, Jacqueline, to a bar for a coworker’s birthday. Not just any coworker. The coworker, the Derek Morgan, that Penelope just rants and raves about. They are soulmates, from what you understand, in a weirdly flirtatious, sibling-type relationship?

Penelope has tried to explain it to you and has always ended up confusing both you and herself. It is what it is, she’s said in the past. He’s my chocolate thunder, and I’m his babygirl.

You think it’s best not to try and unpack that.

Jacqueline is a couple of years younger than you and Penelope. She’s just a couple of years out of college, whereas you’re a couple of years out of college, plus a couple more years. Jacqueline is sweet. She’s painfully shy, though, and you and Penelope are determined to break her out of her shell. There’s another coworker of Penelope’s who, from what you’ve heard, would be a perfect fit for Jacqueline. His name is Spencer, and he’s supposedly this young, cute genius. Like, actually a genius. Certifiably.

The goal tonight is for Penelope to find a moment to introduce Jacqueline and Spencer. You’re tagging along so that those intentions could be a little bit better masqueraded. You and Penelope also know for a fact that sweet, sheltered Jacqueline would not attend a party at a bar full of strangers by herself.

You don’t mind being a chaperone, of sorts. Jacqueline is like a little sister. You just want her to be happy, so you don a cute red dress, pick up Jacqueline in an Uber, and off you go.

The bar isn’t nearly as crowded as you thought it would be. It’s still busy, sure, but there’s enough room to walk around without bumping into someone. That seems to calm Jacqueline’s obvious nerves when you enter the establishment. Your eyes scan the place until you finally spot what appears to be a party room just off the main part of the bar, and you see a flash of familiar blonde hair with pink highlights.

“There’s Penny,” you say to Jacqueline, and nudge her with your elbow to follow you.

You’re the leader as you serpentine through the bar patrons, and Penelope turns around to spot you just as you reach her. “My sweets!” she squeals, wrapping both you and Jacqueline into a tight hug. “Thank you so much for coming!” Penelope gestures to the party room, which is open for integration into the rest of the bar. It all seems very flowy and casual, with guests either standing or sitting with a drink in hand, talking and laughing with one another.

There’s a table in the corner with decadent cupcakes that you’d bet are homemade, all crowded on a tiered stand, and various birthday decorations hanging from the walls. The jukebox in the corner plays 80s and 90s hits. You spot the birthday boy in an instant across the room, and you know it’s him from Penelope’s ridiculously detailed descriptions. He’s like a cheetah, personified, Penelope said before, and yeah, that might be accurate.

Except for the bright blue, glittery party hat strapped crookedly to his head and the sparkly sash around his shoulders that says BIRTHDAY BOY in big, bold letters.

“There’s snacks, and water in the corner if you’re not feeling booze,” Penelope goes into full hostess mode and points to everything. “How about you lovelies get some drinks, and then I’ll introduce you around?” She suggests.

Jacqueline is ever the quiet one in all social situations, and you can tell she is overwhelmed by the noise, or maybe the amount of people that she doesn’t know. You know that she would be a little less nervous with a drink in her system, so you nod to Penelope’s suggestion and agree to meet up with her after visiting the bar.

Jacqueline follows you like a lost puppy as you snake through the crowd again. One of the few perks of being pretty women, though, is that once you reach the bustling bar, your orders are quickly taken.

You get an amaretto sour for yourself, a Malibu pineapple for Jacqueline, and she leans against the bar next to you as you wait for your drinks. “Lots of people here!” Jacqueline exclaims with a sheepish chuckle. She smooths the ends of her cinnamon-colored bob, one of her nervous habits you’ve picked up on over the few years you’ve been friends.

“Yeah, but we love Penny, and she loves all the people in there,” You nod towards the party room. “So it’s like we know they’re cool by association, y’know?”

“I guess,” Jacqueline shrugs, unconvinced. She’s lived a fairly sheltered life, from what you understand. Strict parents, so she never dated in high school, and always focused on her studies in college rather than a social life. It’s good to get her out of her shell.

You’re given your drinks and you head back to the party room, where Penelope is speaking to two men. They’re both tall, but one is younger, with brown hair and a patterned sweater vest. The other is older, with dark, nearly obsidian, hair, and stark, narrowed eyes to match. He’s in dark, belted jeans, with a black polo to match his hair. When you and Jacqueline approach Penelope, you lock eyes with the older man for a fleeting moment.

He looks at you like you’re an outsider. And sure, maybe in this particular situation, you are. But with his tapered eyes, watching your every breath, you get the feeling that he thinks you shouldn’t be here.

Penelope ushers you and Jacqueline into the conversation and introduces you. “This is Y/N, and Jacqueline, my two really good friends,” she says, then gestures to the lanky, younger man first. “This is the brilliant Dr. Spencer Reid, and the Unit Chief of the BAU, Aaron Hotchner.”

Your eyes land on Aaron and he outstretches his hand, obviously out of obligation. “Pleasure to meet you both,” Aaron says coolly, and you shake his hand chastely. Your eyes flicker over to where Jacqueline shakes Dr. Reid’s hand. He’s already insisting she call him Spencer.

Penelope was right, you think. Spencer and Jacqueline have an immediate connection.

“Likewise,” you say to Aaron, merely matching the indifferent energy he’s putting out. Penelope, in true hostess fashion, excuses herself to check on Derek, leaving the four of you in an awkward conversation square, with Aaron and Spencer facing you and Jacqueline directly.

“Penelope says you’re all in a book club together?” Spencer proffers as a conversation starter. He’s looking directly at Jacqueline, like he’s got tunnel vision, like she’s the only other person in the room.

She nods and sips her cocktail through the thin plastic straw. “We’ve been going through the classics, one by one. Started with Pride and Prejudice a couple of years ago, now we’re working on War and Peace,” she explains.

“Oh, fascinating,” Spencer seems incredibly interested by this. “I love Tolstoy. Did you know his wife, Sophia, helped him tremendously during the editing process? Over seven years, she hand wrote the manuscript eight different times, all while carrying and birthing four children.”

Jacqueline loves weird facts like this, so she beams. You smile softly at this and are immediately met with thoughts of how tooth-achingly sweet these two would be if they got together.

You and Aaron play audience as Spencer and Jacqueline’s conversation continues for a few moments more, until finally, Spencer suggests they sit at a booth to continue. Jacqueline shoots you a look, like, sorry for abandoning you with the grumpy guy! And you merely shrug as you are left alone with Aaron.

“Well, aren’t they just adorable?” You flash a bright smile, and when your eyes meet Aaron’s, it falls. He’s so stoic and unemotional. You know he’s just standing with you to be polite, but at the same time, if he’s so uninterested in having a conversation with you, why is he still here?

Aaron gives an impassive hum of civil agreement, and you clear your throat. “So, you’re Penelope’s boss, then?” you ask, rather than simply make an excuse to leave this awkward, cringey hellhole of a conversation. Maybe some petty part of you wants to see who will break first.

“That’s correct,” Aaron’s fingers are wrapped around the glass tumbler of what is presumably whiskey that is in his hand. His forearm flexes a little as he shifts the glass in his palm.

“What’s that like, working for the FBI?” you ask, shifting your weight to one hip as if to tell him that you’re getting comfortable, that he shouldn’t expect to go anywhere.

“About the same as working anyplace else, I’d expect,” Aaron’s giving you absolutely nothing to work with, so you’re incredibly thankful when Penelope approaches the two of you again.

“Oh, look at that!” Penelope squeals, squeezing your arm. She nods over to Spencer and Jacqueline, sitting across from one another at a booth, both leaning forward on the table, endearingly engaged in conversation with each other.

Jacqueline’s babyish face is plastered with an earnest smile, and you love seeing your friend so captivated and clearly in her element with Spencer.

Penelope was right, they’re clearly well-suited.

Unlike you and Aaron.

“And what are you two talking about over here?” Penelope croons, waving a teasing finger between you and Aaron.

“Not anything in particular,” Aaron’s deep voice beats you to it, and you feel your jaw tense slightly. He avoids contact with you, just stares at Spencer and Jacqueline.

“Yeah, Penny, I was hoping you’d introduce me to the rest of your team,” you suggest, smiling saccharinely at Aaron before making pleading eyes to your darling blonde friend.

Penelope’s chocolatey brown eyes dart from you, to Aaron, and back, and you can almost see the gears shift in her head. “Right,” she gets it, and you nearly sigh in relief. “C’mon then, Y/N, let me show you off!”

You nod curtly to Aaron. “Nice meeting you,” you spout off, totally out of obligation.

“Likewise,” says Aaron, mirroring how you’d thrown the terse colloquialism at him before.

Your nostrils flare and Penelope manages to drag you away before you rip him a new one. “What the hell is all the animosity about?” Penelope asks as soon as you’re out of earshot. You see that Derek, the birthday boy, has approached Aaron in your absence.

“Not animosity,” you correct Penelope, taking a chug of your Malibu pineapple. “He doesn’t like me, for some reason. Seemed to have made his mind up on that real fast.”

Penelope scoffs. “Hotch?” You deduce quickly that this is Aaron’s nickname. “He’s such a sweetheart. You must have just caught him in a bad moment, Y/N. I swear, he’s one of the sweetest guys I know!”

You purse your lips and feign an open mind. Penelope introduces you to the rest of her team - David, an older Italian man whose glass of wine cost about three times as much as your cocktail, then JJ and Emily, a blonde and a raven-haired woman who are obviously in love.

Emily’s got her palm splayed across the small of JJ’s back, and the blonde leans into her touch. You wonder briefly how their relationship was approved by Aaron Hotchner, because, as you understand it, he’s their boss and he can be quite the stickler.

“He can be a grump at times, that’s for sure,” Emily says before taking a sip of her wine. “But he’s a really great boss. He’d do anything for any one of us.”

“Including going to bat for us staying on the team together after our relationship became public,” JJ adds, and you furrow your brows, shooting a sideways glance to the man in question. He’s still across the room, speaking with Derek, leaning against an empty spot on the wall and nursing his glass tumbler of whiskey.

That guy? You think. That guy went to bat for the benefit of other people?

“That surprises me,” you admit. “He was so cold when we spoke just a few minutes ago.”

JJ, Emily, and Penelope all seem to share a look. They clearly know something you don’t. “Well,” Penelope starts, her voice inclining. “He’s sort of… going through a hard time right now,” she scrunches up her nose and shrugs her shoulders, as if to indicate that she can’t really say more on the matter.

It’s none of your business, you remind yourself, but you also want to smack Penelope for dangling a carrot like that.

“If he comes off obtrusive, just know you’re not experiencing the real Hotch,” JJ concludes. You spot Emily squeezing her hip as if to say that’s a good way to put it.

Whatever that means, you think, and shrug your shoulders. “No skin off my back,” you attempt to appear nonchalant. Hopefully they won’t be able to tell that the thought of someone not liking you makes you want to rip your hair out.

“Right,” Emily agrees, just as JJ and Penelope share a look.

The two blondes smirk at each other. Simultaneously, they say, “Profilers.” And you wonder what the hell that’s supposed to mean.

Over the next thirty minutes, you’re shown around the room by Penelope, introduced to a few more people. Finally, Penelope notices that the cupcakes are all gone and runs off to the kitchen, where she has more store in case of this very specific emergency.

You find yourself tucked away at a table in the corner of the party room, halfway hidden by the imposing and comically large jukebox. As you scan the room, you notice Jacqueline and Spencer still at the booth, still engaged in what appears to be very riveting conversation. Jacqueline’s got this demure, girlish smile on her face, and lightly flushed cheeks.

“What do you make of that?” A voice asks, and you don’t see anyone around. You lean back in your seat and can see through the sliver of visibility between the jukebox and the wall. That Italian man, David, has just asked Aaron the question, gesturing across the room to where Spencer and Jacqueline sit.

“Hm,” is all Aaron has to say, and you scowl, furrowing your brows as you watch him watch your friend. “She seems nice enough. Kind of a dud, though, isn’t she?”

“A dud?” David repeats, scoffing. “She’s been keeping up with Boy Wonder for nearly an hour now. I’d say she’s either an alien or a miracle.”

Damn straight, you think.

“I suppose,” says Aaron, and you roll your eyes. He must hold an ungodly amount of pride. Probably totes it along with his stupidly expensive whiskey and his judgmental expressions and opinions about people he doesn’t know. Sure, you’re casting judgment on someone you don’t know, too. But this is different… somehow. Jacqueline is obviously very earnest and sweet, and Aaron is acting like he’s suspicious of her.

“Garcia’s other friend seems sweet,” David goes on to say. You’re not ashamed to admit that your ears perk up a little at this. “She’s fun. Asked me about my wine. Made a joke about cutting a rug with me on the dance floor.”

“She’s something,” Aaron exhales as he says this, and you feel your jaw tighten a little.

Something? What the hell does that mean?

“What the hell does that mean?” David shares your train of thought, though his voice is lined with an omniscient, teasing lilt. “She’s cute. You don’t want to ask her for her number?”

“No,” Aaron says quickly, too quickly. “No, I’m not even slightly tempted.”

You feel your ears burn, and you look down at the empty glass in your hand. This has been your only drink tonight, and you’ve been nursing it for the better part of an hour. You let the condensation slicken your palm.

“What’s the matter with you?” David goes on to ask. “She’s very sweet, and she’s got a great sense of humor. And she’s beautiful, I might add. Why aren’t you interested?”

You stand up from your seat, deciding you’ve had enough eavesdropping for one night. You don’t want to hear what faults Aaron Hotchner saw in you after a three-minute conversation. Feeling a bit self-protective, you march past David and Aaron without so much as looking at either of them. You don’t know if they notice you.

You resolve not to care.

Jacqueline joins you at the bar about thirty minutes later, and is smiling like an idiot.“So, Spencer’s really nice,” she says, breaking out her ID so she can buy another drink. She’s so smooth-skinned and utterly gorgeous that she does, in fact, get ID’d every time she orders a drink.

“Yeah?” You smirk at Jacqueline just as the bartender comes back with your second drink and takes your friend’s order. “He seems really into you, too.” Even if his friend is a massive prick.

“I think we’re gonna go out,” Jacqueline beams, biting her lip anxiously. “Like, on a date.”

“That’s great!” You grin, glancing behind Jacqueline to see Spencer speaking with Aaron across the now-dwindling crowd. At this point, there’s just a handful of patrons for the bar, and only Penelope’s team remains in the party room for Derek. “You should! He’s obviously very polite, maintains good conversation. I’m only seeing green flags.” Except that his boss is a judgmental tool.

“I just get so nervous, y’know?” Your friend says as the bartender brings her drink.

“I know you do, sweetie, but he’s just a guy,” you begin. “He’s not some cosmic being who will alter the trajectory of your entire life simply by taking you on a date. He’s-”

“What?” Jacqueline follows your eyes, whipping her head around with no amount of subtlety. Her cinnamon curls flounce as she notices the same thing you are. Aaron’s staring at you, those unrelenting raven eyes. What’s he trying to do, burn a hole through your head?

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” you mutter.

“What is it?” Jacqueline’s constantly aware of the people around her. It’s a blessing and a curse. Mostly a curse, since you’re her Emotional Support Friend.

“I just… don’t worry about it,” you wave it away, not wanting to stress her out.

“No, what is it?” God. He’s still looking at you, maintaining his conversation with Spencer. You let your gaze wander and you see his lips moving. Is he talking about you so blatantly?

You suppose you’re talking about him, but still.

“I just don’t like Aaron, that’s all.”

“Why not?” Jacqueline’s nutmeg brows furrow, and you meet her confused expression with a shrug.

“We just don’t vibe. Don’t worry about it, Jackie, seriously,” you nod. “I’m not gonna, like, challenge him to a duel.”

Before Jacqueline can attempt to defend someone she doesn’t know (God bless her), Penelope’s waving at you from the party room and beckoning the two of you towards her.

You and Jacqueline grab your drinks and oblige. Derek and Emily are shifting tables out of the way, creating a small, makeshift dance floor in the middle of the party room.

JJ is queuing up a few songs on the jukebox, and when “Take My Breath Away” by Berlin comes filtering through the speakers, a slightly tipsy Penelope is singing into her margarita and demanding that Derek slow dance with her.

You end up standing by Spencer and Aaron, to your dismay, and you think for a second that Spencer isn’t going to ask Jacqueline to dance. That wouldn’t be totally out of character, but he does, and Jacqueline’s beaming, leaving you alone with Aaron.

You let out a slightly annoyed huff and stir your cocktail with the little plastic red straw. You meet his unwavering gaze with narrowed eyes. “Do you like to dance?” You ask with half-assed interest.

“Not if I can help it,” Aaron says, and you wonder for a moment if he’s joking. The ever-serious look on his face says otherwise.

“I was looking for a pretty young lady!” A voice cuts in, and you turn to see David Rossi, of all people, standing before you.

You smile softly. You know he isn’t flirting, he isn’t romantically interested in you, that he’s just being a nice older man and going out of his way to make you feel included. And you can’t help but feel warmth from him. “We were just talking about dancing,” you bring him into the conversation, clocking how Aaron’s jaw visibly tenses.

“Ah, dancing. I remember when we had clubs all up and down the streets. You could go in and just dance until your feet hurt,” David prattles, and you purse your lips in the side of your mouth. He only looks like he’s in his early sixties, but you resist the urge to call him old, to tell him he’s acting like a grandpa.

“Do you like to dance?” Aaron’s asking you all of a sudden. You spot Penelope and Derek slow dancing as well as Spencer and Jacqueline. Emily and JJ have even joined in on the fun.

“I do,” you say simply, pursing your lips at him. And maybe it’s a little mean, but you look at David and plaster a devilish little grin on your face and hold out your hand. “Dave? Wanna cut a rug with me?”

Aaron watches as Rossi throws his head back in one of those wheezy, old man laughs.

“It’s been a long time since a pretty young lady asked me to dance,” the Italian man jokes, and Aaron knows that is simply not true. As a best-selling author, Rossi weirdly gets a lot of groupies.

Aaron feels like he has a smokescreen up, and behind it, he’s fuming. He’s not jealous of Rossi, because he knows Dave’s just being friendly. But Aaron doesn’t think it shouldn’t be Dave dancing with you. It should be him.

He doesn’t know why he told you he doesn’t dance. Maybe it’s this whole divorce with Haley. It was finalized nearly six months ago, but Aaron’s still reeling from it, he supposes. He’s not been on a date. He’s not even so much as looked at another woman in a romantic capacity, until you walked in tonight. Your hair looks so shiny, your face made up all glowy, like you literally have a halo hovering over you.

It’s incredibly frustrating.

He didn’t know what to do. He panicked. He doesn’t want to see anyone right now, or at least, that’s what he’s been telling himself for the past six months. He wants to focus on his job and on being a good dad to Jack.

But, god, the way your dress hits you right above the knee. He wants desperately to see your thighs. He’s been thinking about them all night, actually, how supple the skin might be, how sensitive. That’s why he’s been so cold to you all night - he’s trying to push you out of his mind, trying to focus on anything else. But you’ve got an attitude and a good sense of humor, and he couldn’t help but stare.

It’s the same way he can’t help but stare now, when Rossi places one hand on your waist and clasps your other one. You’ve got one palm on Rossi’s shoulder, the other holding your drink as you occasionally sip it.

You’re laughing and Rossi’s got crows’ feet from smiling, and he sways with you to the music. That song from Top Gun. Aaron wonders briefly if you’re old enough to have even seen Top Gun in the theater.

You’re young. You’re not too young, per se, but you’re right on the line, Aaron thinks. He’s gripping his tumbler of whiskey - his third since you entered the party because god, does he need a vice right now - and his jaw is clenched as he watches Rossi twirl you out.

Your laugh is heavenly and melodic and Aaron, for a split second, considers leaving just because of it.

Aaron leans against the wall by the jukebox, the odd man out, with your friend Jacqueline dancing with Spencer, Garcia with Morgan, and, of course, JJ with Emily. He doesn’t mind being the odd man out, watching his team have a good time. It’s you he feels excluded from.

Okay, maybe you’re not totally sober, you realize, as David twirls you out a second time. You hold on tight to your drink, but your steps aren’t completely precise, and your back slams into a muscled chest with a clumsy grunt. Amaretto sour splashes over the side of your glass and onto a pair of brown, Italian loafers.

Gargantuan hands graze down your elbows, then clench your forearms as you regain your balance, and you turn around to see the brick wall of a person you’ve run into. Aaron’s stupidly dark, hazelnut eyes are drawing down your body. They bore into you and you feel your entire face flush, all the way down to your collarbone.

“You spilled your drink,” Aaron exhales sharply through his nose, and you feel your expression harden.

“It was an accident,” you bite back, taking a step away from him, enforcing the space you desperately need to keep from clawing his eyes out. You don’t hate people. But, god, is this man getting under your skin.

Aaron opens his mouth, and you think for a split-second that he’s about to reassure you. But he just clamps his mouth shut, into a straight line like a ruler. “Right,” is all he says. You take a deep, serrated breath and turn pointedly on your heel.

As you return to David to dance, Derek cuts in, and you and Penelope swap partners. Derek is respectful as he places a hand round the small of your back, and you smile softly when you see Jacqueline and Spencer. They’re barely moving, and Jacqueline’s gray-green eyes are looking up into Spencer’s brown ones, and you nod in their direction. “God, they’re cute, aren’t they?”

“It’s a miracle Pretty Boy’s lasted this long,” Derek chuckles. You arch a brow at this, so he continues. “He doesn’t do too well with the ladies. Not like yours truly,” he jokes, flashing his teeth.

“Oh, please,” you tease playfully. You tug at his sparkly blue birthday sash to further your point. Derek laughs and spins you around.

“So what’s going on with you and Hotch?” Derek asks. You roll your eyes.

“Nothing,” you insist. “I barely know him. I barely know any of you, besides Penelope. God, you guys are really mixed up in each other’s lives, huh? I’m definitely not that close with my coworkers.”

“Oh, we’re not just close,” Derek laughs. “We’re family.”

“And Aaron is, what, the overbearing father?” You ask. You’ve had a couple drinks, and your filter is more or less nonexistent.

“See, I knew there was something going on between you two,” Derek teases. You glare at him. He holds one hand up defensively. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop, but you’re in for trouble, sweetheart.”

“How so?”

Derek nods over to Jacqueline and Spencer. Both their feet are still planted in the same spot, but they’re swaying together. It’s dorky as hell, but so cute you could cry. You understand what Derek means before he even says it. “You’re about to become friends-in-law. The more Jacqueline sees Spencer, the more you see Hotch.”

Your eyes flicker over to the man in question, now sitting at a table and talking with David. There’s some kind of magnetic tug, and Aaron’s eyes meet yours, and your knees buckle a little beneath you. Either you’re drunker than you thought, or you really are in trouble.

edit: read part 2 here

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little-diable · 5 months ago

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Possessive – Spencer Reid (smut)

This is just a quick smut drabble. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Pwp, Spencer and the reader give in to their longings in the bathroom of a club

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, somewhat public smut, possessive / jealous Spencer

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (1.4k words)

“There he is.” Spencer rasped the words against the back of her neck. He was pressed against her, arms wrapped around her waist as they moved to the music. (Y/n) tried to tilt her head slowly, not wanting to grasp the attention of their unsub just yet.

Goosebumps covered her body whenever Spencer’s breath fanned her skin, making her awfully aware of the crush she had tried to bury for years. There was no escaping the man, no running from Spencer Reid, she’d forever be his–if he’d only finally see through their back and forth.

“Let me go to the bar.” She turned in his grasp, eyes finding his darkening ones. Spencer’s gaze flickered from her features to the unsub, who was leaning against the bar, eyes taking in the crowd of dancing people. (Y/n) could tell that something was holding Spencer back, not daring to loosen his grasp on her just yet.

“I’ll be close, look at me if you need help.” Slowly, he let go of (y/n), unable to bite down a rather unsatisfied sigh. With her heart picking up its beat, (y/n) pushed her way through the crowd, eyes set on the man who hadn’t noticed her yet.

With a few feet between her and the unsub, (y/n) pressed herself against the bar to try and catch the bartender's attention. The second she spoke up though, ordering herself a glass of water, she felt the man’s eyes on her, studying her from his spot. She could tell why other women have fallen for his appearance, he was handsome, tall, had something to him that drew other’s to him.

It wasn’t the first time they were doing something like this, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, yet she still wasn’t used to this, unable to shake her nerves. Her heart began to race once again as she watched the man walk towards her with a smirk glued to his lips and something almost dangerous swimming in his pupils.

Even though she knew that Spencer and the rest of their team were close, ready to step in any moment now, (y/n) could only hope that she’d make it out of this alive.

With a fake smile tugging on her lips, she took a sip of her water. The man was almost towering over her, staring down on (y/n) as if he was already imagining the things he wanted to do to her, the torture, the pain, the drawn blood. Thoughts and longings that wouldn’t turn real, that much she could promise herself.

“You’re pretty.” It was a simple sentence, a compliment she paid no attention to as her eyes zoned in on the spots on his neck, dried drops of blood or so it seemed. A shudder buzzed down her spine, while she tried to keep smiling, giving in to the man’s game to cozy him along.

“Thank you, that’s sweet of you.” She kept staring into his eyes, wondering how many gruesome things they had seen, things he had done with his own two hands. (Y/n) tried to think of something else she could say, anything to lure him further into the trap she wanted to lay out for him, but she didn't get far.

Gently though urgently she was pulled out of the way as she watched Aaron and Derek push past her to handcuff the guy. Confusion began to spread through her as she turned towards Spencer, who had pulled her against his chest. No words were spoken between them as he began to pull her away from their team, knowing that they wouldn’t pay any attention to the two of them for a while.

“Where are we going?” Her laugh got stuck in her throat as Spencer pushed her into one of the bathrooms, locking the door behind them. She got no chance to speak up again, silenced by the lips finding hers rather urgently.

Spencer pressed her against the door while his hands found their way from her waist to the back of her thighs to pick her up. Without breaking the kiss, he placed her down on the sink, guided by their longings, the need to touch one another neither had been able to communicate for the past years.

“Spencer,” (y/n) moaned his name. His lips kissed their way down her throat while his hands pushed her dress further up to her waist, only to brush his fingertips over the damp fabric of her panties. “What are we doing here?”

“Seeing him this close to you is something I never want to experience again. You’re mine and I’m so sorry it took me this long to realise.” Her heart skipped an excited beat, leaving her chuckling against his lips before kissing him again - more urgently. (Y/n)’s fingers got tangled in his curls, tugging on them to try and pull him even closer, needing to feel every part he was willing to offer.

“Fuck me, Spencer, make me yours.” (Y/n)’s moaned words were enough to urge him on, letting his fingers pull her panties aside to properly touch her. Their moans blurred together, filling the small bathroom without a care, knowing that whoever would walk past this room would instantly know what they’re doing.

He gave himself a few moments to explore her heat, to circle her pulsing bundle with his soft fingertips before he pulled away. They held eye contact as he pulled her off the sink and turned her around, catching her hazy gaze through the mirror. Spencer fumbled with his trousers to free his cock while (y/n) allowed herself to intently study him and herself, fuelled by the excitement of finally being fucked by the man she had loved for years.

Spencer spat into his palm to lube himself up before he positioned himself at her entrance. Slowly, he pushed into her as he watched her eyes flutter close in pleasure. Her walls pulsed around him, while she tried to stop her moans from ripping through her. With one hand placed on her waist, the other found her throat to force (y/n) to keep on looking at him through the mirror.

“From now on, I’ll be the only one to fuck you, you’re mine, only mine.” His hips met her behind with every thrust, burying himself deeper and deeper inside of her. This moment felt surreal almost, torn between different emotions and the need to express them through touches that were laced with love and lust.

“Only yours, I promise.” (Y/n) was close to sobbing her words. She tightened her grip on the sink, desperate to hold onto something while she was about to lose her balance. Her thighs were shaking, her body unable to support her much longer with an intense orgasm about to wash through her.

Spencer tightened his grip on her throat as her eyes began to flutter shut again, unable to keep them open any longer. She was forced to hold eye contact while her orgasm creeped closer, drawing tears of desperation to her eyes. Both felt as if they were floating, weightless almost while giving in to logins neither had dared to ever put into words.

“Beg for it, let me hear how much you need to cum.” His rasped command drew another moan from (y/n). It took her a handful of seconds to find her voice, to find enough strength to speak.

“I need to cum, please Spencer, let me cum for you.” Only a hum managed to leave him, giving her the needed push to cum around his cock. Spencer kept moving as she choked on her moans, letting her knuckles turn a few shades lighter while trying to hold on.

He pulled out of her seconds before he could cum, only to cum on her behind with a deep groan. Both were panting, holding eye contact through the mirror with glistening pupils and slightly parted lips. Spencer turned her around to push another soft kiss against her lips, hands placed on her waist.

And with another smile thrown his way, (y/n) knew that this was something that would hold forever.

#Spencer Reid smut #Spencer Reid x reader #Spencer Reid imagine #criminal minds

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cimmanonrowl · 5 months ago

Note

Hi, I saw that you’re taking dbf requests for Hotch! Could I request a fic with dbf!Hotch where he finally makes a move on reader during a party being hosted by her dad? Also, I love your fics sm!!

Dress

It was your father’s appointment party as Chief Justice when lawyers and businessmen overtly offer their sons as your marriage prospects. All while Aaron Hotchner listened quietly beside you, you can tell that he’s not too happy about it.

Pairing: dbf!aaron hotchner x bfd!reader

Theme: spicy hotshot

Contents: age gap, making out, angry confession.

The decorous garden of your home residence was filled with a crowd of guests long before the party officially started. Prominent people of different names and titles— some of your father’s business partners and colleagues in the Supreme Court, and some family friends you barely recognize— draped in their finest garments and overtly high status in society.

Pleasantries and polite conversations were exchanged; and as your father greeted each one of his dear friends, you had no other choice but to stay beside him all the time and be on your best behavior.

“You have a very nice house here, Chief Justice,” Emilia Kane— one of your father’s business partners as you recalled— said with a dainty smile.

You mirrored her small nod when she glanced at you, smiling politely at the woman and the other two beside her. “Good evening, Ma’am.”

“Good evening, dear. You look absolutely gorgeous…” She took a sip of her champagne and raked your outfit subtly, a kind smile on her face. “What year are you in University now?”

“She just graduated a month ago, Emilia. She’s entering Harvard Law this fall, haven’t I told you yet?” Your father intercepted proudly, making you purse your lips as you initially intended to answer the question.

The woman beamed in amazement as she glanced at you. “Oh my, congratulations! I’m so sorry I didn’t know.”

“She graduated top of her class.”

You sighed lightly, glancing at your father. “Dad…”

“I’m sure you’ve seen the photos, Emilia. I posted everything on my social accounts...” Father dear went on, still smiling widely.

“Dad, please.”

“Oh, did you?” The woman said in awe, alternating her amused gaze between you and your father. “And did he get you a new car, dear? An apartment? What did he get you for your graduation?”

“I wanted to give her all thos—”

“No, dad…” You shook your head, chuckling.

“Well, I rented an entire villa in Mykonos for her and her friends. She just got back from Greece yesterday.”

“Dad!” Heat crept in your cheeks as he continued. This conversation is making you sound like a hopeless case of a spoiled brat when it wasn’t entirely true. You might appear spoiled for other people at times but not on a hopeless— certainly not on a spoiled brat level.

“Oh, dear, you’re fine…” The other woman chuckled sympathetically. “I bought my son a new Porsche just because he didn’t get himself kicked out of University. I’m sure your father’s just proud.”

You shyly darted your gaze at your dad as you felt his palm on your linked arms. “Why won’t I be? She’s my only daughter...”

The light conversation continued and was only interrupted when a couple of new guests approached your father. Several familiar faces of lawyers and judges; some from your father’s law firm and some from the Supreme Court. Over the past years, you got to know most of them, making you fix your posture and remind yourself to smile more pleasantly.

So you stood there prettily in silence, smiling, as you accepted their handshakes.

“You look beautiful, hija…”

You beamed at the compliment. “Thank you, attorney. Good evening.”

“Have you seen Marcus around? He told me he’d look for you.”

“Marcus?” You perked your eyebrows in curiosity. “Is he home already?”

The innocent question made your father chuckle a bit. “Yes, sweetie. I told you I played golf with them last week, remember?”

A bashful smile tugged at your lips as you looked at Attorney Jensen. They’re one of your closest family friends. His son, Marcus, is one of the kids you grew up hanging around with at law firm parties and at weekend golf clubs. He’s a nice kid... but everything turned weird when everyone started pairing you both as teenagers.

Your father must’ve told you about Marcus’ arrival but you’re sure you didn’t care enough the first time that you missed the entire story when he called.

“Well, I’m sure he’s just around...” You said with a sweet smile.

Minutes dragged by and their conversations continued. You stood beside your father in silence, occasionally engaging in the small talk. Some of the men asked about your education, your plan after law school, and your love life— all of which you answered as briefly and politely as possible.

“Sir, it’s time to prepare for your opening speech—” You turned in the organizer’s direction when you heard her voice.

You stared at your father expectantly. Well, it’s not like he would need your help in preparing for his speech. He’s a Chief Justice for heaven’s sake, surely he can do that alone. You just hope he’s not thinking of leaving you alone with these men.

“Thank you, Laura…” Your father turned to glance down at you. “Honey, would you mind staying here for a whi— never mind— Aaron!”

Your heart almost burst into ashes with the sudden cry of your father. You quickly followed his line of sight— immediately being greeted by the sight of your father’s dear best friend since University days.

Aaron Hotchner.

He’s in a well-polished suit. His dark hair was clean cut and even from afar, you can see the light stubble on his jaw. And Jesus Christ, how can someone look that good?

“Chief Justice,” He greeted your father with an equally wide yet endearing smile, deftly shaking hands while your father chuckled heartily.

Aaron turned to you with a timid smile, opening his arms as a little invitation. You noticed the hint of hesitation on his face with that. Yet still, you accepted the hug before placing a quick and delicate kiss on his cheek, your hands shaking as you perched both your palms on his arm.

“I’ll excuse myself for a while. Will you look after her, Aaron?” You heard your father say as you scrambled to step away from Aaron’s embrace.

He wetted his lower lip before nodding, not even daring to look at you. “Yeah, sure.”

Embarrassment licked your skin as you watched your unsuspecting father walk away. The moment he was completely out of sight, you felt Aaron’s gentle hand snaking at the low of your back, securing you from the waist— as if preventing you from running away from him.

Effortlessly, he engaged in conversations as he settled beside you. And just like earlier, you fell silent as everyone else was busy in their own conversations.

“How about you, are you planning to get married soon after graduating from Harvard Law?”

You smiled lightly as a couple of guests whirled their attention back to you. “I’m afraid I’ll have to look for a boyfriend first, attorney.”

Aaron’s thumb started rubbing soft strokes at your waist. He seemed to be doing that unconsciously because when you glanced at him, he was talking to another group of guests standing at his side.

“So you’re currently looking for a boyfriend?”

“Not really, no...” You chuckled awkwardly. “But if I meet a good one, why not?”

The older man took a huge swig of his brandy. “I have a son. He’s in DC. Surgeon.”

You nodded with an unsure smile. What do you even do with that kind of information?

“That’s impressive...” You said instead.

“He’s also looking for a girlfriend. I can hook you up if you like. I mean, he also graduated from Harvard—”

“That’s kind of you, attorney, but as I said I’m not really looking…”

“My son’s an architect. I believe your father mentioned you’re into art, is that correct?” Another man interrupted, taking an interest in the conversation.

“Yes, attorney…” You gave him a small smile.

Although this night wasn’t meant for you in any way, you’re aware that you are your father’s reflection to these people. You know how crucial it is that you remain polite as much as possible.

“Just a few dates, what do you say?” He offered with a humorous smile. “Come on, maybe we can merge our firms one day. You know, I don’t have any successor of my own. My son’s an architect.”

“It’s not her fault your son chose architecture,” Attorney Jensen cut off before you can reply for yourself. “Besides, my son has been courting her since they were young. He went home this year just to ask her out officially.”

Your breath hitched as you felt Aaron’s grip on your waist tighten. You glanced up at him in confusion, only to see that his usually kind eyes turned piercing, his eyebrows pulled into a tight frown. He seemed mad— furious. He looked furious at the incredulity he was hearing.

You glanced away, not sure what to make of that.

“I believe we need to go to our tables now...” Aaron said formally, his voice deep and serious. His eyes were pointed at his old colleagues and other businessmen.

You smiled at the waiting guests. “I believe I still want to hear what they’re saying...”

Aaron turned to you in disbelief, his scowl deepened.

“About?”

“About their sons.”

You watched Aaron with an innocent look, tilting your head a little, calming the rapid beating of your heart as you saw him let out a sigh of frustration.

Attorney Jensen chuckled at the sight. “Oh, come on now, Aaron. She’s a grown woman, plus it’s just a few dates. It won’t hurt surely.”

“Surely...” You nodded along, glancing at the other men. “It won’t hurt to try.”

You bit your lower lip as Aaron leaned into your ear. His hot breath fanned over your skin, his deep voice sending chills to trickle down your spine.

“Continue this conversation, young lady, and let’s see what will happen.”

The horrified look on your face drew laughter from the guests. They must’ve thought Aaron was threatening to tell this to your father. So you turned away, your smile dropping as you looked around apologetically.

Your father’s voice from the make-shift stage snatched everyone’s attention from you and the conversation. Some marshalls started ushering people to their seats to prepare for the opening speech of the Chief Justice. With small nods and smiles, they all marched toward their respective tables and left you on the spot with Aaron.

“Come with me.”

You staggered sidewards, looking around in slight panic. “The party’s starting.”

“We have to talk.”

“Aaron,” You sighed, eyeing the stage. “My father’s giving his speech…”

That only made him frown deeper. “You proofread that speech for him, you won’t miss anything.”

“So what if I did? I still want to listen.”

He wandered his gaze around the venue before guiding you away from the crowd. It was seldom that Aaron visited your home residence. When he and your father hang out, they usually visit bars, golf clubs, or shooting ranges. But he does know the basic layout of your house. And you know that he’s leading you inside your home this time.

Deep down, you feel like you know exactly where he wants to talk.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” He blurted out angrily the moment you stepped inside your room.

You whirled around to face him, crossing your arms across your chest as you heaved a tired sigh.

“What, Aaron?”

He took a step forward. “Is that your way of getting back at me?”

You shrugged, still confused about the point he was making. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You perfectly know what I’m talking about.”

A beat of silence.

Then realization dawned, making you smile in pure resignation.

Two months ago, you made up your mind and finally confessed to Aaron Hotchner. You’re already graduating from University. You will enter a Law School soon. What’s there to lose? Aaron had been showing the subtlest of signs that he likes you back: the way he looks at you, the way he makes you feel cared for and safe, the way— you mistook everything for a reciprocated love.

He cared for you, yes.

Simply because you are your father’s extension.

So what’s this? Why bother now?

“It was clear you didn’t like me,” You whispered quietly. “Which is fine, Aaron, really. I understand— I mean, I was hurt obviously. But… but I understand. I’ll just have to move on, right?”

“You’ve no idea what you’re saying…” He mumbled hoarsely, still piercing you with his darkened gaze. With quick steps, he bridged the gap between you and cupped your cheeks on both his hands.

You swallowed thickly, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. “Aaron…”

“How can I let you move on when that thought alone is killing me?”

Your breath hitched at his words. “W-what?”

“Fuck this,” He spat angrily before placing a chaste kiss on your lips. “You’re driving me mad, sweetheart.”

The sound of muffled laughter, distant conversations, and clinking glasses filtered in through the partially open window. You can barely hear a word of what your father was saying in his speech. All you are aware of is how Aaron desperately chased your lips with hungry and deep kisses, and how the weight of his body was forcing you to blindly take several steps back.

You melted into his sinful lips, your arms snaking around his neck and pulling him closer. You felt his hands move down to your waist, gripping tightly the thin fabric of your satin dress. The sound of ragged breathing mingled in the air as he walked you backward, backward until your back finally hit the wall.

His lips trailed down your neck, nipping and leaving a wet trail of heat in your wake.

You gasped, your fingers tangling in his hair as you arched into him. “Aaron…”

“God, I’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmured against your skin, his voice rough with desire. His big, calloused hands roamed over your body, exploring, familiarizing you.

“Aaron, what are you—” You rasped weakly as he broke another kiss, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Don’t do that again…” He whispered back, breathing heavily as he closed his eyes. “I’ll figure it out. I’ll think of something, I’ll do something just don’t—”

“Don’t what, Aaron?”

“You’ve no idea what you were saying. Your confession— how can you think that I don’t like you?”

“Well…” You blushed, still catching your breath. “You didn’t say anything after, then you sent me home. You didn’t attend my graduation. You didn’t reply to my texts or even congratulate me.”

“You told me I don’t have to say anything…”

“Well, technically, if you didn’t say anything then you don’t like me.”

“You really have no idea what you’re saying, darling.”

You shivered at his whispered words, feeling a surge of boldness. Your hands found the button of his shirt, eager to feel the warmth of his skin. You clumsily tugged on his tie and ripped his clothes off of him, tossing them aside.

Aaron Hotchner could only watch in anticipation as you let the strap of your dress fall on the soft curve of your shoulders... until all your clothes quickly became a forgotten pile on the floor, your moans intertwining like ropes in the party-stained air.

As always, any thoughts and reactions are highly appreciated. Plus, to anon who requested this, YOU ARE AN ANGEL. I loved crafting this with this plot, and hopefully, you liked it as much as I do! See you all on the next ones, we have a few other good requests!

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x reader #dbf!aaron hotchner #dbf!hotch #rolipops requests #criminal minds fanfiction

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easy-there-leftovers · 5 months ago

Text

Magnum Opus (Ch. 1)

When an MIT prodigy on their gap year is contacted by the FBI regarding her potential involvement in a series of murders in Washington D.C., she must now cooperate to uncover how her paintings are mysteriously appearing at the crime scenes.

(Written with Season 1-4 Spencer in mind, but the timeline could be anywhere pre-season 12. No mentions of past cases)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Artist! reader|cw: Canon-typical violence|word count: 2k words

Also on Ao3!!

Series Masterlist

While Aaron Hotchner remained vigilant as he drove the black SUV, the constant flipping of Spencer’s case files seemed to be louder than the car’s air conditioning.

He had directed Morgan and JJ to touch base at the MPDC, and had Rossi and Prentiss survey the crime scene of Jonathan Edwards; the identity of the previously unknown man in the vacant apartment.

This left him with Reid in the passenger seat to conduct an investigation on their only lead so far.

From the update Garicia had given them, Y/n L/n was a prodigy a year younger than their very own. Having graduated from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology a year ago, she moved to Capitol Park Plaza and Twins Apartments in Washington D.C., and is currently unemployed. Occasionally selling her paintings out of her unit under an anagram of her name.

But something bothered him.

And it seems like Reid has picked up on it too.

“Do you think Dr. L/n is the unsub?” The unit chief asks.

Spencer hums before answering.

“While we can’t rule it out just yet, the possibility of her being the unsub is totally unlikely. The thing that’s throwing me off is that everything is too convenient. I mean, why would the unsub use something so publicly personal to them as part of their signature? It’s as if she’s overtly incriminating herself.”

Spencer checks back onto the pictures of the victims, then lifts his head up to look at Hotch to continue.

“Based on the way the victims are modeled, an immense amount of care was put into them. All for the purpose of making them look like the subjects in their paintings. Actually, the fixation on changing the bodies’ posture and keeping them clean is typically done out of remorse. But the added elements, like the placement of the paintings, creates an image of an unsub more on the narcissistic side. By creating two 'artworks,' they're prompting the viewer to decide which version of it they prefer. Mocking the original artist in the process.”

“So the paintings were done before the murder?”

“I have no reason to believe otherwise.”

His unit chief sighs and pulls over to the curb. “Well, we’re about to test that belief.” Spencer hurries to take off his seatbelt as Hotch closes the car door with a thud.

—------

Hotchner nods at Reid as they find themselves in front of the written address Garcia gave them. He lifts his hand to knock firmly on your door, and waits for a response.

A thud from the other side causes both of them to assess each other before Hotch tells Spencer to stay behind him. Gun in hand until something, or someone, comes running at them.

But instead a muffled, “sorry” is heard right after, which causes him to lower his gun.

The door finally opens a crack to reveal a very tired twenty-something woman, some dark pigment or makeup smudged on their lower eye lines as they rubbed at it. She immediately fixed her posture however at the sight of the unexpected visitors. Eyes wide with concern.

“Dr. L/n, I’m Aaron Hotchner with Dr. Spencer Reid of the FBI.” He highlights his statement by showing his badge. “We’d like to ask you some questions.”

“Oh, um,” The woman blinks rapidly and shakes their head before immediately saying, “Of course,” with a nod and opening the door wide to let them in.

A quirk that does not go unnoticed by Spencer, who observes how different she looks to her more formal ID photos.

—-----

You let the FBI agents into your apartment, but are now suddenly aware of the state of disarray you left it in last night. Not to mention the state you were in.

You had just woken up and your brain wasn’t quite all there yet. If you had known you’d have guests over, you would have at least put some of your books and papers back onto their shelves rather than on your floor.

“My, uh—” You start, “Apologies! For the room and the um,”

You inhale deeply and gesture to yourself as you try to find the words before settling on an exasperated, “me.”

“No worries, miss. We don’t really call in advance.” You nod at the older man’s explanation vacantly before coming up with a response.

“Would you like anything to drink ?” You move to your fridge to get water to wake you up, and decide that it would be rude not to offer. The two decline, with the younger more busy observing your living room bookcase than the older one that sat on your couch.

You notice that something must have interested him as he lingers on certain shelves. That section in particular had prints of dissertations you had been meaning to read, or have already read, in clear folders.

You wonder if he found his work there or something before returning with water for yourself.

“So what can I help you with?”

“Dr. L/n, are you aware of the current string of murders that have been happening as of this year?”

You blink rapidly again. The question catches you off guard, but you shake your head.

“I know it’s a bad habit, and that I should, but I don’t really listen to the news.” Feeling your eyebrows quirk, you rub your hands together slowly. Making direct eye contact with Hotch, before looking at the younger man as he takes out a few papers from the folder he was holding.

“Are you familiar with these paintings then?”

Now that piques your interest.

Dr. Spencer Reid, who sees a flicker of recognition in your eyes when it meets his own, presents various pictures of your artworks in what seems to be dimly lit areas. They’re a little dirty, but otherwise you would recognize them as your own.

The thought instantly made something in your stomach turn.

“I–” You start, but shake your head subtly again. Unsure of what to say and how to say it next as you stare at the images. “am.” You turn your head to look back up at Spencer who nods thoughtfully.

“Recently, your paintings have been showing up at crime scenes in the D.C. area. Specifically, victims of an organized unsub that seems to be targeting people who accurately resemble the subjects in your work.” If your eyes weren’t wide enough, that bit of information had certainly opened them wider than ever before as you stared up at him.

“That, combined with the concentrated traces of 5-durastalene found in the pigments of the paint used, have led us to suspect your involvement in these murders, Dr. L/n.” You heavily feel the blink of your eyelids and rest your fingers on them to keep them closed before looking back at the two of them.

“I’m sorry,” you smile incredulously. “So you’re telling me that not only has Lunacite been identified on the paintings you’ve found, but that people who look like the personas in my private works actually exist and have since been–” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Murdered?”

“Well that shouldn’t come as a surprise, they were your muses, weren’t they? You were commissioned?” Hotch is the one who asks and you shake your head with wide eyes.

“I didn’t even know these people existed. They were just– faces I came up with mentally with the visual library I’ve amassed over the years. I don’t really make it a habit to paint from reference. Like I said, they were private.”

“And the chemical?” You thought for a moment before your lips thinned into a line.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Agent Hotchner, but I haven’t touched anything regarding that compound in over a year. I’ve only ever worked on it in my lab on university grounds, and I don’t make a habit of bringing work home.” You scratch the hairs near the base of your hairline.

“More importantly, hundreds of students and lecturers have access to my work, my research, and my lab space. Not to mention the people who might have heard my work through academic conferences.”

You move away from your position near the living room coffee table Spencer placed the pictures on, but picked up one before you did and shook your head.

“Besides, these paintings? No one should know about them, let alone have them. I didn't sell these.” That made Spencer’s brows furrow as he looked at the other photos still on the table.

“Do you have proof?” You stay silent, but then motion for them to follow you to the door of your room.

“Well, for one, I’m sure you’d understand that most people don’t make copies of their artwork traditionally, right? Expenditure of time, work materials, effort, human error, and many other variables. It just isn’t practical nor convenient.” You ramble and look back at them to continue.

“I also don’t make the majority of my art known online. Only a good 30% makes its way to my portfolio, and the others are never to be seen by anyone else.”

“They're studies. They’re made with cheap paints, they’re subjectively not appropriate for commercial use and-–I just wouldn’t be comfortable charging anyone for them.”

They follow you across the room, and make themselves apparent behind you.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“So if my ‘commissioned paintings’ are currently on D.C. crime scenes, and possibly in MPDC evidence,” You open the door to reveal your studio to the two agents.

Various paint tubes, books, and brushes littered the floor, table, and boxes. A lone easel was situated near your apartment window, with an unfinished painting on it. And various canvasses, not displayed, but instead kept on tall shelves. Only the differently colored edges indicated that they were ever used.

What surprised them both however, were the same paintings in the pictures staring back at them.

Some on the walls, some on the floor, but what was most important was that they were in this room, they were clean, and there were more of them.

You turn to look back at them with shaky eyes. “So why are they still here?”

—----

Hotch and Reid stood outside of your apartment door as you cleaned yourself up. Hotch made the call to bring you to the precinct for further investigation and for your own safety, but allowed you to freshen up before leaving with them. Not that he told you about the safety part.

You were hard to read, given your erratic reactions. It unnerved him, but he supposes it comes with the territory of being gifted. You also offered to bring in your paintings and a few other materials for forensics to test, to which while he was suspicious of, was not ungrateful for.

He made a quick call to Garcia to check attendants of any academic conferences you’ve spoken at and if anyone had been more interested than the others. When he was finished, he looked to Reid who was crossing his arms and staring at the carpeted hallway before looking back at him.

“She’s uncomfortable.” He stated plainly.

“Reid, most people would be if they just found out their hobby had been getting people killed.” Hotch said as he kept looking at his phone for anything new from the others.

“There’s certainly that, but I meant her title. ‘Doctor.’” He said in quotes, and Hotch raises his eyebrow at that but allows him to continue anyway with a curt nod.

“I mean, every time we’ve addressed her with her title, she blinks faster. Did you know it’s a common attribute that’s directly related to an increase in heart rate, which is why they’re usually correlated with lying? Initially, you would think that she faked her experience to get those credentials, but given her educational background, she must have not been given an opportunity to be referred to as such for a long time. Also, the gap year she took could’ve only exacerbated any insecurities she might have about her intellectual achievements. Plus, the lack of organization in her own home, while not wildly uncommon amongst people her age, could suggest the sincerity of her belief about compartmentalizing her work and her private life.”

“And what does that tell you?”

As Spencer was supposed to answer, a thud much like the one they heard before they entered earlier was heard again, followed by a similarly muffled, ‘sorry.’

He turns to look back at Hotch again with a small, victorious smile.

“That she doesn’t fit the profile.”

——-

taglist: @littlewolfieposts

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid

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justawritterwithideas · 2 years ago

Text

law in pink | s.r

♡ next part ♡

summary: when the BAU needs an extra helping hand, Washington decides to send the best of the best, but what they didn't expect was to see... pink.

warnings: a bit of stereotypes, beyond that a bit of comedy and fluff. there may be mistakes in writing because I wrote it too fast :(

this story is spencer reid (season 7) x ssa elle woods!reader

words: 1,649 words.

a/n: elle woods from legally blonde comes to my mind constantly because is one of my favorite movies, so I wanted to make a mix called "ssa elle woods"; I hope you like it and you can understand the idea of reader as elle woods, I also hope I didn't portray it wrong and that it will be misunderstood T T

The BAU needed a hand with the rising crime wave, so, straight from Washington they sent the best of the best from their office.

And of course Penelope had to investigate.

According to her research, you had graduated from Harvard with honors and had given the honorary alumni speech at your class graduation. In addition, you were a part-time Harvard professor of Political Theory during the fall and part of a prolific group of researchers in your Washington office, which had the highest rate of successfully resolved cases in the last 5 years.

In addition, you had achieved on your LSAT a score of 179 out of 180 points.

Something inside Penelope reminded her a little of her friend, Spencer Reid, in you.

But what she didn't expect to see when she looked you up on the interwebs was the fashionista and family friendly life you had. The way your apartment was decorated with a pretty pink aesthetic, your outfits videos that reached millions of views and your day to day routines were the mantra of many girls, being all perfectly edited.

With that and more, anyone would think that your job was not to be a federal agent, but an influencer.

Penelope was already smelling perfume from her computer, and that made her more than eager to meet you.

It was seeing one just like her in front of her screen.

You were the perfect candidate to be her new best friend.

The clacking of your heels and the smell of your Chanel perfume filled the entire BAU office, causing the complicit glances of all the workers who were there.

"Have you seen Barbie yet?" "Is the model missing?" "What about her? Maybe she's a lost intern. First-timer problems."

Everyone was making comments you'd heard more than once in some police office, maybe it was the way you dressed didn't go along with the aesthetic they had or how feminine your attire might be, but that's who you were and for a couple of comments about your appearance and the stereotype they had they weren't going to sour your day.

"Excuse me, are you looking for someone?"

You turned to see a tall, dark man, who was watching your outfit from last season's Prada fit you to perfection.

"Oh! Finally someone nice." You commented with a smile. "Yes, I'm looking for Agent Aaron Hotchner."

"He's my boss, would you like help finding his office? I can help you."

"That would be great, thank you very much..."

"Agent Morgan, Derek Morgan."

"It's a pleasure, Agent Derek. I'm Y/N, nice to meet you."

You didn't like to introduce yourself officially as an agent, it made you look rather intimidating if you did, and that was what you didn't want.

It wasn't a long walk to the wooden door which was adorned by a plaque with the name of the person you were looking for.

"This is it, you come for a case? Any family members involved?"

"No, I'm coming to help. Thank you very much, by the way."

You gave him one last smile before knocking on the door, hearing a "pass" from inside.

"Who was the girl you were escorting, Derek?" Emily watched the man reach them, peering curiously inside Hotch's office.

"Her name is Y/N, she said she was coming to help, but... I don't know, she doesn't look like someone coming to help, maybe she's a witness."

Spencer's eyes scanned the situation, trying to conclude who the mystery woman inside his boss's office was about, but coming up with nothing on the spot. Like his friends, they were all searching for an answer to the abiding doubt in his head.

Who exactly was that girl and why had she said that? She didn't seem like a person whose job was an office job, but not one that was very risky either.

But before they could say anything, Aaron came out of the office with his ever-serious face.

"Meeting in 5" was the only thing he announced, so the group took heed and went to the place.

Once inside the office, Penelope found herself with her dear friends, who were trying to figure out the causes of the recent meeting.

"You don't know Pen either, do you?" J.J. was the first to speak.

"No idea, Hotch just asked me to be here."

"Just like everyone else." Rossi replied, settling around the round table with his coffee cup.

The conversation didn't last long when Hotch entered the boardroom.

"Good. I know there's no case yet or apparent reason to get them together first thing." Hotch began. "But as you may know, the last couple of months have seen an increase in crime for the BAU, which is exactly why we've been given extra funding to bring an extra agent onto the team."

Sounds of excitement came from everyone's mouths.

"So I've been contacting old colleagues, who recommended the best of the best. So they've transferred an agent from Washington to help us."

"Boy, they must be desperate." Derek's comment drew a few chuckles.

"I'd like to introduce you to the SSA, Y/N Woods."

Everyone's countenance changed to one of surprise when they saw you walk in, smiling in the friendliest way possible.

The same girl who looked like a model fresh off a runway was the newest member of the BAU.

"It's nice to meet you all, I hope we can work well together." You set your Prada bag to the side, being able to scan each of the members quickly.

"Woods, this is SSA Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi, dr. Spencer Reid and our technical analyst, Penelope Garcia."

"Hey, I know you." You commented in the direction of Garcia, who was smiling politely. "You were the girl who commented on my recipe for the vegetarian tacos."

"Yes! They looked exquisite."

"Thank you very much, I hope they were helpful. We need to be a little more conscientious with our four-legged friends."

Spencer didn't know if he was dazzled by the whiteness of your teeth or the warm way you had entered into trust with Penelope with a simple recipe.

"Woods, Garcia. You'll have time to talk."

"I'm sorry, sir." They both replied at the same time.

"Fine, I'll go prepare the case, Garcia come with me."

They both walked out of the meeting room, leaving you alone with the rest of your new group of colleagues.

"I didn't know you were an agent." Derek was the first to break the silence surrounding them, causing you to turn in his direction.

"I didn't mean to mention it, I'm not a person who usually blurts it out just like that on the first interaction. You never know what kind of person a stranger is." You commented before you could look at him again. "No offense."

"No problem."

"From Washington, right?" Your gaze went to the blonde, who was watching from her position with a warm smile.

"That's right, even though I'm from California but I moved to Massachusetts after getting into Harvard, and then to Washington when I got an opening in the federal office there. So I'm from here, there and over there, but I'll always be a California gurl." A chuckle came out of your mouth after making a reference to the Katy Perry song, bringing your hands to your sides.

"Harvard? What did you study?" Spencer looked more and more interested.

"Law." You commented offhandedly. "I actually studied Fashion Merchandising at UCLA with a 4.0 GPA. But I wanted to prove myself and decided to get into Harvard Law."

"Switching from Fashion Merchandising at UCLA to Harvard Law is a big jump, how much did you get on your entrance exam?" Rossi asked.

"179."

Everyone's surprised face made an impression on you.

"What, like it's hard?" your eyelashes fluttered softly, before you remembered what you were holding as a "peace offering". "By the way, I made cookies yesterday for being the first day and making a good impression." Your hands went to your bag, pulling out a heart-shaped tupperware. "They're lavender and butter, it's a recipe I read on a fairly well known blog forum, they say Paris Hilton gets her recipes from there."

You held out the tupper to each of them to take out a cookie, leaving it on the table in case they liked to take out more.

"If they like more, just pull out. There's enough for everyone." A little smile tugged at your mouth. But before you heard any response from either person, the catchy ringtone of Gwen Stefani's "Rich Girl" interrupted any culinary criticism. "Excuse me..." Your hand went for your phone, which didn't surprise others by being pink, and you left the room letting out a "Woods" as you answered.

"This is new." Derek said.

"And delicious." Emily took another bite of her cookie.

"She's different than what we usually know." Rossi looked at the rest, taking a second cookie out of the tupper. "But I don't mind at all, in fact, I think new always comes in good."

"True, it's always good to have someone new and with a different vibe."

The group turned to look at Reid, who was holding the cookie with his right hand. The young man wasn't usually one to blurt out a comment, just like that, least of all referring to a girl.

"Oh kid, you find her attractive." Derek was the first to smile in amusement.

"What, no." The voice in a higher pitched tone than normal was what gave Spencer away.

"Spencer likes Y/N." J.J annoyed, walking out of the office laughing along with Emily.

"That's not true!"

"See ya, lover boy." Derek commented along with Rossi, who was gently patting his shoulder with a knowing smile.

And so it was that Spencer was left in the meeting room with his cheeks as pink as his new co-worker's heels.

♡ next part ♡

If you like it, don't forget to like and repost it.

a lot of love, alme. ❀

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fanfic #blurb #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid x elle woods!reader #legally blonde is superior #alme was here!

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bobbie-robron · 1 year ago

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Aaron… this surrogacy stuff… it, it won’t come cheap. Just go with me on this.

Mini set

22-Nov-2018

#robron #robert sugden #aaron dingle #final appearance for november in that year #next time they appeared in a scene TOGETHER was the christmas episode #people died robert #don’t mess it up #fact-finding mission #aaron allowing robert to carry on with nicola on the con #20181122 #robron episodes 2018

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tteokdoroki · 1 year ago

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ೀ⋆OCT 3RD MEAN GIRLS ━━ katsuki bakugou + free use !

୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. katsuki bakugou + free use. on october third, he asked you what day it was. btw, in girl world, halloween is the only time of the year when katsuki bakugou can slut girls out and no one can say anything about it. boo, you whore! (4.9K)

୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, characters aged up to 20s, college!au, free use, dub-con, cum-play, voyeurism, humiliation, manipulation, dacryphilia, no prep, public sex(ish), unprotected sex, suprise guest appearance from shouto as aaron samuels, fem!reader, reigina george coded!bakugou.

୨୧ — director’s note. "it's october third." and you know what that means! another nasty kinktober fic for you all! i hope you enjoy this one, its probably my favourite...because uh hello!? reigina george and bakugou? name a more iconic duo! anyways enjoy mwah! - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧

halloween is the only time of the year where anyone can dress like a slut and not get called one for it.

in the world of the conventionally attractive (or the plastics), the kings and queens of the social jungle, it means ditching the guts and gore in favour of skin tight lingerie with a little fake blood that drips calculatedly through the valley between your breasts — just for a little bit of added attention. it’s the one night of the year where self-objectification becomes acceptable, and you by all means, were not planning on missing out.

for you, a well spent Halloween consisted of tooth rotting candy corn, bad movies and trying to avoid the feeling of fomo (fear of missing out, fyi) building up like fluid in the lungs of a sick person. you’ve been an a-grade loser all your life and you’ve never had the chance to experience a proper friend group, high school, (and now) college experience.

however this year would be different. this year you would be ditching loser-ville for boobs and bunny ears and the shortest dress you could find. because you finally had a friendship group who did these kinds of things and you had an invite to the biggest festive rager hosted by the hottest guy on campus — shouto todoroki.

the rest of your friend group, the college renowned plastics, had warned you not to get involved with the half and half campus jock. he already had relations to your beloved ring leader, katsuki bakugou, and your involvement would be breaking several laws of girl and guy code — according to dumb blonde kaminari (he swears he has ESPN or something). katsuki was the head of U.A. university, ruling over the entire student body with an iron fist, an attitude so mean you’re sure you’ve seen professors cry and a glare so sinister he could turn milk sour if he tried hard enough.

bakugou was the definition of the picture perfect guy and he knew it. it was almost as if his face had been ripped straight from a vogue magazine, his shoulders broad, waist slutty and tiny, abs to die for too — you’d be a liar to say you hadn’t thought about him a few times before bed. katsuki was a king bee (if bees could even have kings) and you were a nobody lucky enough to have been indoctrinated into his group of flawless friends — taken under the guidance of his wing.

your own friends had told you not to fall for the glitz and the glamour that seemed to follow the barbie blonde everywhere he went. but you couldn’t help it, you were enamoured by everything that katsuki did — turned a blind eye to his bitchy persona and twisted mindset. you hardly believed the rumours about him, blissfully ignoring the truth behind the gossip because katsuki was nice to you. just the other night he had been kind enough to offer his help in setting you up with shouto. even if kirishima had tattle told on you.

regardless, katsuki had your back — you knew that. he was even talking to shouto right now, admist the full swing of the halloween party. how could anyone ever hate bakugou? he was so kind, so considerate, treating you like family from the moment you got here. you see shouto look your way fondly as they chatter about you, his lips curling perfectly around your name while he sends you a wave that makes you feel like the only girl in the world.

“she likes you, yanno.” the shorter blonde purrs, the corner of his perfectly plump lips twitching up into a knowing grin. he says your name, glowering at the way his ex perks up at the mention.

shouto blinks slow, mismatched eyes filling with affection the longer he looks at you awkwardly swaying to music you’ve never heard before. “yeah? she does?”

“it’s adorable, really. she writes your fuckin’ name in the corner of her notes with little hearts. even has the name of your future brats written in a cute little list.” the lie slips from bakugou easily, as if manipulating people is second nature to him.

“don’t bother with that, katsuki.”

when todoroki’s gaze on you lingers for too long, he kicks it up a notch pressing the head of his body into his ex’s side. “listen, half ‘n half,” with his eyes dark and sensual, the blonde allows his voice to slip into deeper, more mocking tones — playing up this innocent act. one that shouto falls for every time. “i know that she can be a little fuckin’ weird but, she’s my friend…so be nice, yeah?”

men are such fickle creatures — for all it takes is a pair of sweltering, red puppy dog eyes to drag the jock under his spell. shouto nods slowly, his own topaz and granite eyes glossing over with some form of obedience, a loyalty to bakugou that no one else would understand. “yeah, alright.”

“good,” bakugou purrs, the sound causing his brain to short circuit. “such’a good friend, half ‘n half.” the tail end of his words are replaced by the sloppy sound effect of his lips on shouto’s, tongues beginning to clash and hands possessively gripping waists.

your rose-tinted window shatters at the sight.

background conversation falls away as your friend and your crush begin to make out right in front of your fucking eyes. “you know who’s looking fine tonight, neito monoma.” kaminari squeals, shimmying in his little mouse costume.

“denki, that’s your cousin.” kirishima frowns.

the blonde shrugs. “yeah! but he’s my first cousin…that’s not right is it,”

you don’t have time to dwell on their chit chat — you feel like someone has thrown your entire body out of whack. you feel like you’re drowning as the realisation hits, katsuki bakugou doesn’t give a shit about you or your feelings. storming away from the scene, you make for the nearest bedroom, hurt and confusion swirling around in the tightness of your chest.

“what are you doin’ in here sweetness? ‘minari and kirishima have been looking everywhere for ya.”

you’re still crying like a sore loser when the king of the plastics finds you hauled up in one of shouto’s many rooms. and you hate that it’s katsuki who’s come to comfort you, sitting beside you on the queen sized bed as his hand slips over your bare thigh.

but you shrug him off, barely keeping your cool. after all, you’re still mad at him for making out with your crush. “don’t touch me, katsuki.” you snarl, doing your best to sound menacing. “i saw what you did. how could you? i thought we were friends?”

he clicks his tongue, ruby red eyes rolling as if he gives a fuck. “oh, you mean that thing with icyhot?” you don’t understand how the blonde can be so nonchalant, tossing around the situation as if it weighs nothing — costing not an ounce of your feelings. “he came onto me, sweetness. i’d never do somethin’ like that to you.”

denying katsuki bakugou is never an easy feat, he’s a man that knows where his strengths lie. in the deep timber of his rumbling voice and those eyes, with the blood lust curled around each of his pupils. katsuki is a well trained hunter, and on this occasion, you are his prey. a large hand smooths over the meaty swell of your trembling thigh, pushing the likely pair wide open for him to make room between them. “i’m a good friend, r’member?”

his hands roam your blistering hot body, gripping and grabbing at your flesh from over your costume — it feels good, you feel wanted and melt like a lump of butter in a pan at every cascading touch of his.

you’d be smart to come to your senses, before you’re snapped up in the unrelenting jaws of a hunter. but you’re entranced by those insanely red eyes, the perfect slant to his lips and all-knowing smile — it’d be useless to escape when you’ve fallen this deep. “you’re not…” your bottom lip wobbles, the achy feeling in your chest now submissive to the liquid lust katsuki has spent months conditioning you to feel. “you’re a bad friend.”

“d’aw…you don’t think i am?” dropping his tone into a sultry coo, bakugou leans in real close and you instinctively follow the tilt of his head. he looms over you, just enough so that you can see the smear of pink eyeshadow across his eyelids, the plasticky glisten of lip gloss masking the true colour of his plump lips, along with the spark of lust swirling through the brown flecks in his eyes.

you shake your head no. “no, you’re not.” big mistake.

the of temperature of the room rises just from his proximity and you find yourself willing to let the king of the plastics swallow you whole. “i don’t think i like the way yer talkin’ to me, sweets.” he growls darkly and in warning. “i should make you apologise for bein’ so fuckin’ mean.”

his breath is warm and wet against your cheek, grip rough on your waist and you can’t help but think how mean he is to you. katsuki gaslights you like it’s second nature or another one of his five senses, manipulates you with ease, putting himself on you when you know you can’t say no. because without him you would have been in social suicide, you wouldn’t have any friends, you wouldn’t have had the college experience. you would have just been ordinary.

“gimme a kiss, gorgeous.” the blonde bites down on your lower tip, tugging it away from you because he misses the metallic taste of golden blood on you — the taste of blossoming obedience in your bloodstream.

you push back, but it’s no use — bakugou’s closing the gap before your brain can even catch up, fizzing like candied pop rocks while you sink further into debauchery.

“c’mon…” he forces his tongue past the seams of your lips, bursting through with only the darkest of intentions. you briefly seize up, because your body knows this isn’t what you want, at least not 100%. but katsuki knows how to work stubborn, prude little things like you — squeezing down on your waist heartily as he leads you into a stupid-drunk kiss. “that’s it, there we go…good fuckin’ girl.”

the world tilts on its axis and you grow lightheaded at the blonde’s praise — you should be mad at him for kissing your crush but at the same time, you’ve never wanted someone so bad. mewling against his watermelon and alcohol flavoured lips is like sealing your fate, giving up little pieces of yourself just to appease your ring leader.

“katsuki, i don’t—“

his thumb digs into your cheeks, preventing you from pulling away — not that you’d want to. wet sounds from your kisses vibrate through you and cause a twinge in the heartbeat between your thighs. “i wasn’t askin’, i was tellin’.” he grunts into your drooling mouth, wide open to echo your sweet and pliant voice. it’s with those words that you remember your place, being a plastic requires sacrifices — for you to give up pieces of yourself in order to stay by katsuki’s side.

including letting him use your mind, body and soul freely.

“so fuckin’ pretty when you’re obedient for me,” he’s snarls, hot under the collar and eager to steal more from you. he grins at how your eyes roll back just from a couple of half-hearted words. leaning back, katsuki shrugs off his shirt, revealing his perfectly carved hips and washboard abs, golden skin that only the gods could have blessed him with. the sight of him is enough to make your quivering cunt deep juices into the crotch of your panties. “let’s get back at sho, huh? for playin’ us both.”

the lines of morality and dissoluteness are often blurred when you’re with him — you become a vessel for his pleasure and you don’t even think to mind. somewhere amidst the messy, sensual lip locks bated breaths, katsuki has managed to get you onto your back and tear through your skimpy little halloween costume to suck his claim into your neck. painting you with deep mauve and midnight blue hues. his eyes dilate, roaring obsidian black taking over his mean, rage filled red eyes in a way that lets you know how bad he wants to fuck you.

it’s when the sharp edges of his canines graze your pulse point that you remember just how much of a wild jungle college is. you remember that katsuki has the ability to make your life a living hell, the power to take a bite and rip your throat out at any second. in this world, you are nothing but a meek gazelle and katsuki bakugou the lion ready for a feast.

irrespective of how much the very fact may frighten you, you ignore bakugou’s talons as they sink into your chest and leave indented crescent moons on against each breast. he rips apart the costume you worked so hard on and pushes your hands away from your body when you attempt to cover yourself up. so, from that moment, you let lust slither over your brain so you can arch yourself into him for more pleasure, and remind yourself that even if you're being used — it feels good. katsuki feels good.

you like that he’s a little mean, a mean girl. all teeth and tongue and biting when he licks into you and breaks the strings of honey saliva that tie your tongue to the roof of your mouth. you love how he roughly grabs you by the meat at your hips and tugs you up to meet the grind of his cock against your underwear. you adore how he pulls the very fabric apart like they’re nothing, rolling you onto your stomach and positioning your hips in a way that makes your back arch.

you don’t even realised that bakugou has kicked off the lower part of his costume until you feel the heat of his firm thighs against the backs of your own and the sticky tap of his flushed cockhead on your ass cheeks — smearing white globs of precum over your hot skin. the blonde groans at the visible twitch of your cunt, the way it glistens and spews lightly for him.

“oh sweetheart,” he laughs through the coagulated feeling of prurience in his throat. “so fuckin’ wet for me, hah?” he manages, spreading your ass cheeks apart hungrily, a curious finger running through your slick folds and dragging your wetness over your pulsating clit. “s’kinda embarrassing. barely even touched you.”

the situation is embarrassing, humiliating almost and a fresh set of tears burn at your waterline — mascaras already tracking down your cheeks. you don’t fight bakugou as a muscled arm snakes it’s way around your waist and pulls you onto him until your sex is flush against bakugou’s thick cock — your hearts beating in sync, heavy breathing in tune. his dripping dick slips and slides a through your quivering pussy lips, grinding against the pulse in your clit before easing the mushroomed tip through the tight ring at your entrance.

“f-fuck!” you squeak, a little out of turn. fuckdolls don’t talk. katsuki is quick to growl and remind you, collapsing his entire weight into your body while you take him with ease. no prep required whatsoever. there’s a delicious burn as his girth stretches you wide open and he fucks you with just the tip — a pleasing buzz layering itself over your logical thoughts. the ones that tell you this isn’t right. the ones that tell you that you’re more than just a plastic play thing.

bakugou squeezes your hips harshly when you push back onto him, desperate to be fed more of his cock. “keep fuckin’ still, alright?” the king of the plastics rasps, taunting you as he thrusts all the way into your tight heat with no warning. you ooze at the sudden stimulation, basking in the weight of his dick against the insides of your crying cunt and fluttering walls. “sho’s gonna love this, maybe he’ll really want you then.” he continues to purr, jamming a thumb past your swollen lips to press down on your tongue. his other hand grasps at his phone once lost in the sheets, talking a picture of your teary face while you suck on his digit to soothe yourself.

like a baby sucking on a pacifier as it cries.

sending the photo to shouto, bakugou takes a few more selfies of you like this. his favourite is the one of your face squished between his large fingers, covered in salty tears and sticky drool. “don’t cry sweets. ‘m gonna fix this, help you get together. what are friends for?”

his voice is soft, nose nudging against your cheek in a reassuring manner.

but it’s all too good to be true.

briefly, there’s a second where everything is calm, where the blonde lets you relax around him between gentle juts of his hips forward and affectionate kisses peppered against your skin. you should have realised that katsuki’s pleasure is always above your own. because he suddenly finds the motivation to pull out of your snug, sensual heat to pound into you properly, dragging is seedy cock along all of the spots along your ribbed walls that make you see stars.

you feel like a pocket pussy, only one that comes with crybaby wails and pitiful hiccuped noises. it’s all music to katsuki’s ears, blending seamlessly with the intense base from the party’s music and thump of the headboard smashing against the wall all from the sheer force of his thrusts into you. it’s easy to forget how humiliatingly loud you’re being, you can’t find yourself to be worried about someone catching you either. even if the door is wide open.

why not? because katsuki claims you willingly, over and over again with each brutish brush of his leaky cockhead against your g-spot. “s-suki! please.” you slur around his fingers that fuck your drooling mouth in perfect rhythm with his dick that plunged in and out of your puckered, creamy hole.

“yeah, yeah. i gotcha. give into me, sweetness.”

where he had been keeping you pinned against the sex-soaked cheeks — bakugou pulls his sweaty chest away from your back and adjusts the roll of his hips, letting them crash into you like waves on a shoreline. to support his body weight above you, his toned arms cage you in, head tilted to the side to watch you sniffle on his dick, red rimming your watery eyeline. “you’re so fuckin’ pretty when you cry, sweetheart.” he moans condescendingly against the shell of your ear, painting a chaste kiss against your wet cheek. “what a pretty fuckin’ girl, suckin’ me in… takin’ my cock. oh fuck.”

if you could see him, will yourself from the pillows you take purchase in and use to muffle your salacious screams — you would notice how an evil smirk as spread across the blonde’s lips while he ravages you, fucks you beyond the stars and back. “you my pretty girl, yeah? fuckin’ sweet thing.” the praise has you spiralling and simultaneously soothes the burning hatred you have for katsuki in your chest. “why you cryin’ so much? is it over him, or over me?”

the answer to his question slips out of you faster than your sex-crazed brain can catch up. “o-over you!” it’s like you can’t even think for yourself, make any choices for your body outside of what bakugou has planned for you. you’d do anything to please him so that he keeps fucking you, so that you can forget your feelings and keep your place amongst the socially elite. maybe that makes you selfish, maybe it makes you dumb — that you’re a whore for katsuki’s bully cock that churns up your guts and uses you for ecstasy filled relief.

“y-yeah? mmhm, just like that baby,” katsuki stutters, licking his lips while you throw it back on him. the weak snap of his voice (caused by you clenching down on him) has you gushing nastily down bakugou’s length. bathing him in your juices, dripping down his balls as they clap against your ass, and swing against your clit.

“yeah…yeah…y-you’re my friend, k-katsuki! didn’t wanna lose you…”

satisfied with your response and feeling a little mean once more, the king of the plastics brings a heavy hand down against your ass before gripping it tight, forcing you back and forth on his creamed dick. you hiss at the newfound pain blooming underneath your skin, blinking back more tears.

“that’s right sweets, you’ll let me do anythin’ to keep me right? stay bein’ friends.” bakugou barks salaciously into your shoulder blade. greed and power and control sparks between your bodies that move in sync with one another, your hips shakily attempting to catch up with his rough pace.

you gasp when he hits a spot that’s got you howling at the moon. “y-yes, god, yes!”

“even let me fuck your crush? let me fuck you in front’a him?”

all you can do is nod and gargle in response, passionately sucking on his fingers. “get ‘em nice and wet for me. wanna play with you, gorgeous.” he nips at your skin, leaving the imprint of his canines against you before his red eyes laser focus on where your bodies continually meet. “lift your hips. atta girl.”

a heinous squeal escapes you, borderline pornographic as katsuki fumbles between your body and shouto’s high thread count sheets. his sticky fingers press into your pleasure nub in tight, calculated circles and he rewards the sound of your choked moans with another barrage of love bites to your neck. ones that you won’t be able to cover up. ones that show how much you’ve been used.

you wonder if his appetite for your dedication will ever be satisfied. even though your pussy works it’s way back onto him and swallows his cock down like fucking magic — bakugou still wants more of you. he grins sinisterly at the bruises that form just under your skin, that make you hiss when he licks over them and spills his curse words over against that sensitive spot underneath your ear. the sensitivity makes you yelp loudly, despite the people that walk by.

including none other than shouto todoroki.

“you’d even let him watch as i creamed your cute cunt, wouldn’t ya? so pathetic. it’s adorable, sweetness.” the blonde goads, pulling back so that he can get a better view of your ass bouncing against his slender hips. spreading you apart with large hands, he drools down onto his cock and your asshole, spitting onto the point at which his shaft slips inside of you — watching the white froth mix in with your viscous nectar and disappear into the creaminess of your tight hole.

your crush audibly gasps as he enters the room — mismatched eyes drinking in the view of you being absolutely wrecked from behind by his ex. shouto can’t help but admire your puffy face and equally puffy folds while he settles on the bed next to katsuki. he has no idea how his feet even carried him there.

“bakugou what are you—?”

the tail end of shouto’s words slip away when you clench down hard on bakugou, his head falling onto the latter’s shoulder while you share shaky moans. “oh my god,” katsuki pants, pulsing against your silken walls and driving his dick upwards into your sweltering mound. “you’re fuckin’ obsessed with me. with him. you just won’t let this dick go, will ya?”

admitting that you like shouto watching you get fucked by bakugou would be just as embarrassing as admitting your crush on him. it doesn’t matter if you’re crying too hard to confess the matter with words, both of them know it. they can tell by the way your pussy spasms around katsuki’s bulbous cockhead as it bullies it’s way into you with every thrust. “see icyhot, told ya she was a weirdo,” He chuckles down at you menacingly. “letting me be the one t’stretch her pussy open even though you’re the one that she wants. s’so embarrassing.”

todoroki let’s out a noncommittal grunt, equally amused by the situation like his ex. “yeah… so weird…”

he reaches around to grab at the fat of your waist and tugs you back onto katsuki so that his dick never leaves you. so that your clit is smooshed up against perfect abs, that contract with every thrust and overstimulate you.

maybe it’s not such a bad thing to be used by the king of the plastics, if it means shouto gets to touch you too.

“i think she’s about to cum, katsuki.” the two-toned haired jock states as if it’s obvious, his voice husky and low as the scent of sex trickles into the air. “you’re gonna make her cum, baby.”

“can fuckin’ feel it, she’s ‘boutta make a mess of me.” they share a lustful look behind you, that leads to them sharing sloppy, uncoordinated kisses as if you’re not even there. truly treating you like a sex toy to be used whenever, wherever.

the sounds of their kisses ring in your ears, cause heat to burn at your cheeks and shame to settle in your chest once again. but this time, you don’t fucking care — not when you’re close to cumming, not when both of the people you adore in your life are using little old you.

forcing you back and forth over katsuki’s dick even faster, shouto finds it in himself to address you, moaning out your name. “a-are you close?” he simpers, tongue rolling over his ex’s.

“i— i am. p-please. let me cum. lemme cum. lemme c-cum—!” you chant as if it’s the gospel, voice tapering off into a set of whistle tone simpers as you finally hit your high. black spots dot your vision, katsuki using a last burst of energy to canter into you, slamming against your g-spot over and over again. the dam breaks before your brain can register it, release trickling out of your fluttering hole like a flash flood after a vicious storm. it soaks his soft tuft of blonde pubes and soils the sheets below, your body wracked with shakes and aftershocks.

katsuki's cock against your cervix being the epicentre.

the two men behind you share a sick little laugh when you collapse into the sheets face first, both of them leaning down to kiss either of your cheeks soothingly.

“so fuckin’ cute ‘n loyal,” bakugou coos in a twisted tone, pulling out of you to jerk himself off over your quivering body.

shouto smiles and rubs soothing circles in the small of your back in an attempt to calm you down — taking pleasure in your tiny sniffles and hiccups while you come down from your high.

“your turn, bakugou.” he purrs slightly, using his arm to prop himself up on the bed for a perfect view of you both.

“mmfuck, shit ‘m so close.” colourful curses spew from between bakugou’s perfect, cherry bitten lips just as he hits his peak. slick sounds accompany the movements of his rough palm up and down his length, coaxing himself towards orgasm. he cums with a shout, a feral growl tearing his chest in two with how loud it is. all while ropes of his blistering hot and white cum land on your ass, pussy and back.

he collapses next to shouto after that.

you feel a finger drag through the hot mess on your back and turn around just in time to watch bakugou feed a scoop of his cum to your crush. todoroki sucking his fingers happily. “go get her a towel, icyhot.” he demands, and like a slave to the crown, todoroki follows — disappearing from the room in search for a rag to clean you up with. surprisingly, the blonde helps you to sit up, taking you into his chest so you can snuggle against it. “don’t cry sweetness, s’okay. i forgive you for thinkin’ i was a bad friend.”

tilting your chin up, you’re rewarded with a firm chaste kiss — swallowing katsuki’s moans as he tastes the saltine tears in your lips. “you’ll never do it again, right?”

“r-right…” you reply meekly, flinching at the blonde who boops your nose almost affectionately.

he busies himself with fixing your costume until shouto returns with a wet rag to wipe the cum from between your thighs and the rest of you. you try not to let it get to you when they share another passionate kiss, sucking on each other’s tongues and mussing up each other’s hair until they’re all rosy cheeked and short of breath.

you would be a fool to think that you ever stood a chance with shouto todoroki after tonight.

much like you, he’s just another piece in katsuki’s game of chess. he’ll never escape the toxic cycle of their relationship when things keep going like this.

“you look sexy with your hair pushed back, icyhot.” katsuki says to shouto once they come up for air, ruffling his silky locks out of place. his ruby, crazed, gaze slinks over to you next, a coy smirk playing at his lips. “sweetness, tell him, icyhot he looks sexy with his hair pushed back.”

katsuki bakugou is terrible. evil. conniving. but he’s all you’ve got, even if he is a mean girl.

“shouto…you look sexy with your hair pushed back.”

2K notes · View notes

d1xonss · 6 months ago

Text

Fuck it, I love you

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 11

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : ⚠️ Smut (18+) / Angst

✧ Word Count : 7.8k

AN ~ This request was sent in by @daryladdixon, thank you again for the idea! I’m so sorry it took me so long to write, I’ve been having a lot of things going on in my personal life. But it’s finally finished! I really tried my best with this one and I hope you like how it ended up turning out!

(ps- I really want to make some new friends on here, so please dm me if you want to chat! xoxox)

You had been through a lot together. Ever since Atlanta. It was a long time if you really thought about it; years and years of having all kinds of different shit thrown at you. But surprisingly, the two of you made it side by side, the trauma you both endured only bringing you closer together.

Though now as you stood there, screaming and arguing back and forth with each other as a few of your people were in danger, you couldn’t help but wonder how the hell you got here.

When the Commonwealth appeared seemingly out of nowhere with open arms for new people, you couldn’t help but be weary of it. You never trusted them, not really. It was like a dream, something that was too good to be true as they seemed to offer quite a lot, but that only made you more cautious. And the events that followed only proved how right your instincts truly were. So, when the time came, you quickly jumped back on the opportunity to leave and go back to live in Alexandria, knowing that place would always truly be your home. You didn’t even have to think twice on the decision.

However, when you heard that Daryl would be staying behind, wanting to continuously be a part of Judith and RJ’s lives, you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. You understood his need to be there for them, you would always understand that. But that didn’t mean you wouldn’t miss him greatly when you finally pushed forward to move back with Aaron and Gabriel.

Although something that you didn’t expect, was Daryl’s slight resentment toward you.

When you told him the news about how you’d be leaving the Commonwealth, he was surprisingly taken aback and a little hurt. He even began to raise his voice at one point, not meaning to yell, but to try and show you how devastated he was that you wouldn’t be around. It wasn’t often that the communities visited each other anymore, not like they used to anyway. And that alone told him that he would hardly ever see you anymore.

He hated it, but his reaction to your leave drove a small wedge between the two of you. He was upset that you were leaving him, and you were upset about how he reacted, knowing that he of all people should have understood your reasoning the most. But that was the last time the two of you had spoken, the last time the two of you had even caught a glimpse of the other. And it truly had taken a toll on the both of you. Though you two were far too stubborn to admit it, the truth was you missed each other greatly.

Daryl felt almost empty without having you around. He would spend his free time with the kids, see Carol here and there, along with meeting with some of the other acquaintances he had grown closer to. But he dreaded coming home every day, knowing he would be stepping into an empty and oddly quiet house. It just wasn’t the same without you there. He even caught himself a few times glancing over toward the living room, expecting to see you curled up on the couch with your nose in a book. But there was nothing. Hell, even Dog missed you, tugging on Daryl’s heartstrings a bit as he noticed the canine always looking around the space like he was waiting for you to come home.

And back at Alexandria, you were no better than him. Though you had a lot of things to occupy yourself with, you were going through the same heartbreak he was as the two of you hadn’t been apart for this long in years. A part of you assumed that this would be the new normal. That the two of you now had your separate lives and you would just move on from each other, even though it was far from an easy thing to do. You could now grow as individuals and learn to not depend on one another as it seemed neither or you were ready to have the awkward discussion on how things were left. You could move on.

That is until you received quite the urgent message.

You were in the kitchen of your small home when you heard someone just burst through the front door, causing you to freeze at the sudden noise. “(Y/N)?!” you could hear Aaron’s frantic voice call out.

Immediately you sprung forward towards the front entrance of your home, looking at him with concerned eyes, “What? What’s going on?”

“It’s Lydia and Elijah.” he breathed, “Apparently they didn’t make it to Hilltop. It’s been way too long, they should’ve been there by now.”

Your stomach dropped as you processed the news, “How long have they been gone?”

“They left two days ago.”

That only caused your concern to grow, knowing in the back of your mind that there was no way they could’ve gotten lost or side tracked. Something was wrong, and all you were able to think about was how you would be able to find them. You remembered they took a car, picturing what it looked like in your head as you racked your brain for which route they could’ve taken to the community. The fact was however, you couldn’t track to save your life. Even from the small bits and pieces you had learned in the past, you knew it wouldn’t be enough to find them on your own.

But that’s when it hit you. The small things you had picked up on, you learned from only the best tracker in the world. And in the back of your mind, you knew there was no way to do this without his help.

Soon you found yourself racing towards the Commonwealth without a second thought, telling Aaron to cover for you at the infirmary whilst you were gone. The man asked you multiple times if you were sure, if you really wanted to be a part of this knowing how much they relied on you back at home. But you didn’t have to think twice, you didn’t want Daryl to have to take this responsibility on his own. Though you knew he would do it in a heartbeat for his people, it didn’t matter to you. They were your people too.

You made it into the Commonwealth in record time, the guards on watch allowing you inside the second they recognized who you were, watching your vehicle speed down the road as you left a cloud of dust behind. The area was quite busy today as everyone seemed to be out and about and enjoying the nice weather, feeling a slight shiver run through you as you suddenly remembered why you hated this place. Too many bad memories to even count as living here felt like the longest few weeks of your life.

The car made a screeching sound as you brought it to an abrupt halt, causing quite a few heads to turn upon your graceful entrance as you pulled the keys out of the ignition, stepping out of the car to find him. Though you froze about halfway out of the vehicle as finding him was apparently a lot easier than you thought it would be, seeing him standing off with Carol as the two of you locked eyes immediately. He wanted to say he was happy to see you, happy that you were still alive and healthy, having not seen you in what felt like forever. But the look on your face said it all.

The man didn’t hesitate as he grabbed his crossbow and strapped it across his shoulders, not even bidding Carol a goodbye as he jogged over to you, squeezing past a few people in his way. You instantly tensed a bit, almost as if to prepare yourself for what was to come as you watched him get closer and closer, not even knowing what to say to him. All that time you spent in the car you thought over the different things you wanted to say, the things you wanted him to know. But now as he was coming up to stand in front of you, your mind ran completely blank as you just stood there like an idiot.

He took you in for a moment as he slowed to a stop, trying to read your expression as he could clearly see you wanted to say something. But when all he received was silence, he didn’t hesitate to pull you into him, embracing you tightly as he instantly sighed upon feeling your touch again. Your eyes widened at his actions, clearly not expecting that after how things were left between the two of you. But that didn’t stop you from wrapping your arms around him in return, your eyes falling shut as you buried your head into his chest. It was an old habit you had done many times in the past, but you heard Daryl’s breath hitch as he felt your small but familiar action. One that he had never forgotten.

“You okay?” he asked softly into your hair, squeezing you a bit tighter.

You let out a soft breath as you shook your head, “I need you.” you whispered.

After that, he was all ears.

You filled him in on everything as he was the one to take the wheel, driving just as fast as you once were in an attempt to track down the car Lydia had previously taken out. He silently listened the whole time, nodding to show he was still paying attention as he rubbed a hand over his chin, processing your words. The two of you were very clearly trying not to panic, but when it came to the people you both cared about, it was harder to stay calm than you would think.

But then there was just silence. An awkward silence. Neither of you uttering a word after you told him everything he needed to know. You slightly fidgeted with your hands that sat in your lap as you tried not to look at him, your mind only seeming to focus on how weird things were between the two of you now. That, and you kept thinking back to the very last pleasant conversation you had with him right before you stormed out with a slam of the door. A part of you regretted flipping out on him like that, mostly because you knew the reason why he snapped at you in the first place. It was because he didn’t want you to leave, and all you could do in response to that, was to yell right back out of sadness.

But what you weren’t aware of was that he was thinking the exact same thing. Great minds think alike after all. There was no doubt in his mind that he regretted everything he said to you that day, not knowing that it would tear this big of a hole in your relationship. Though he did have a reason as to why he acted so poorly, and that was simply because the man was incredibly in love with you. And it frustrated him that you couldn’t see that, but it frustrated him even more that you left him like it was nothing.

You then cleared your throat to speak much to his surprise, “So…how’ve you been?”

He briefly glanced over at you, shrugging his shoulders with a huff, “Same old, same old.” he brushed off, a beat of silence passing before he bounced the question right back to you. “How’re you?”

“Good…” you nodded, “I’ve been good.”

His eyes glanced back over at you again, taking in your appearance, “Ya seem happy.”

A small smile made its way onto your lips, “I am happy.” you confirmed.

Though it was partially a lie. Sure, you were happy back at Alexandria, living in the familiar home that you had fallen in love with, spending your time at the infirmary helping people. But there was always something missing, and that something was him. You found you were never fully happy when he wasn’t around, no matter how great your life could’ve gotten.

“Ya still changin bed pans?” he asked, a slight teasing tone to his voice.

You rolled your eyes with a small scoff, “Yeah, I guess I am. You still babysitting?”

He chuckled softly with a nod, glancing over at you again as if he couldn’t stop looking at your face, “Guess I am…” he confirmed.

You hummed, “How are the little gremlins anyway?”

“They’re doin alright.” he nodded, “Judith’s made a couple new friends since Gracie moved back, and uh…RJ’s startin to wear that old busted hat now…passin the torch I suppose.” he paused for a moment, “...They ask bout ya a lot.” he added quietly.

You smiled a little at that, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” he nodded, “It’s hard for them to shut up bout ya. They’re always sayin shit like…bout the movie nights we used to have. Or how uh…you would do Jude’s makeup every once and a while. Believe me, I haven’t been a good replacement.”

A small laugh escaped you once he said that, not even wanting to imagine Daryl’s makeup skills as he didn’t have much of a steady hand as you did. “Didn’t work out too well?”

He shook his head, “Nah. M’ better at paintin her nails then paintin her whole damn face.”

You hummed as your eyes moved to glance at his hands, noticing the black chipped nail polish that still lingered on his fingers, “I can see she talked you into getting yours done.”

The man followed your line of sight, turning a bit red in embarrassment as he grumbled to himself, “Yeah…it’s hard to say no to her sometimes.”

“She just knows you're a big softie…you’d give a lot to make her happy.” you said with a small smirk.

He scoffed as he briefly glanced over at your face, “Whatever.” he mumbled.

You laughed softly to yourself before it went quiet again, only this time it was a lot more comfortable than before. With some of the tension out of the way, you felt like you could finally breathe properly, seeing as he was the exact same way you left him. It was almost as if no time had passed.

Though you couldn’t help the ping of sadness you felt as you thought over what he had told you, the kids missing your presence would never fail to break your heart. His words only brought the memories flooding back, thinking about how you once would nearly spend every waking moment together, like an actual family, and you loved every second of it. You now only wished everything hadn’t gotten so messed up, not knowing if things would be the same since your absence. If you were given the chance to redo that moment in time, you would do it in a heartbeat.

Daryl then glanced back over at you, seeing your mind wandering, his face forming into a bit of sympathy as he could only assume what you were thinking. He was never good with words, but a part of him wanted to reassure you somehow.

“I missed ya.” he mumbled quietly.

Your heart leapt a little in your chest as you heard his quiet words, looking back over at him to find that his gaze was already on you. You smiled sadly, reaching over to give his arm a squeeze. “I missed you too.”

He smiled back at you, fighting back a shiver as you reached out to place a gentle hand on his arm. It was a moment the both of you needed. And perhaps you weren’t the only one who needed the reassurance, seeing as he was visibly relaxing after your reciprocated words.

But it couldn’t last forever, no matter how much you wanted it to. The two of you sitting up a little straighter upon seeing the familiar car veered off to the side of the road, the front tires planted on the grass as if they had somehow crashed, yet there was no damage from what you could see.

Daryl immediately pulled off to the side, the car slowing to a stop before the two of you got out with your weapons in your grasp, approaching the vehicle with caution to peer through the slightly darkened windows. Though upon glancing inside, there was nothing. No bags, no weapons, nothing. Confusion with a mix of dread seemed to pool in your stomach as it was hard to tell how they disappeared, though you prayed you were wrong about what you originally assumed.

“Aye.” Daryl’s voice called out.

You glanced up at him from over the hood of the car, seeing him gesturing down to the ground in front of him for you to come and see. From your perspective, all you saw were a bunch of messed up and sloppy footprints that could’ve been there for days if you had to guess. But Daryl saw something much bigger. Though he didn’t want to scare you, he silently knew that there were a few strangers involved with their sudden disappearance, knowing he had to be careful on your next move.

“Our best bets that way.” he muttered as he nodded toward the treeline, not even waiting for you to respond before he started moving in that direction.

You tried to keep up with his long strides as he moved quickly through the woods, his eyes staying to the ground as he tried to pinpoint every direction they turned. It was honestly amazing to you how he could do this without hesitating or second guessing himself, he just knew where he was going as if he was following some kind of string that led straight to them. But in a way he was as you began to notice a pattern in the leaves and dirt.

Although you couldn’t help but notice that the closer the two of you got, the more rigid and tense he became as he stopped speaking to you entirely. He didn’t make a single sound as he walked, only occasionally glancing over his shoulder to make sure you were still following right behind him. The feeling in your stomach began to worsen as you quickly picked up on how much his body language seemed to change, as if he were screaming at you without saying a single word. You knew there was something he knew and you didn’t, but you couldn’t bring yourself to understand why he wasn’t telling you. You were in this together after all.

However, your silent thoughts were suddenly brought to a halt as you were too busy looking down at the ground to realize that Daryl had stopped, instantly running into his back with a small oof. But he hardly seemed to notice as his sole focus was on the small cabin in the distance that seemed to be completely abandoned. Though both of you knew better than to believe that.

“You stay right here.” Daryl’s voice commanded softly, removing his crossbow from his shoulders as he loaded a bolt into it.

Your eyes slightly widened at his suggestion, “I’m sorry?” you spoke in disbelief.

“Ya heard me, I said stay here.” he replied a little more harshly, “We dunno what’s waitin for us in there, alright? I’ll get em out.”

“I’m not just going to stand here while you throw yourself into the lion’s den, fuck that.” you replied with a scoff as you pulled out a weapon of your own.

He grumbled in slight annoyance, “Dammit (Y/N), ya ain’t comin with.”

“Like hell I’m not.” you quietly snapped, “We came out here together to find them, and now we’re going in there together to get them out.”

The man then got up into your face, as if trying to intimidate you enough so you’d stay behind like he asked, “M’ not messin around girl, I ain’t takin no for an answer.”

“Yeah, neither am I, jackass. You’re not going in there by yourself, that’s just stupid.”

His face contorted into obvious frustration and anger as he was clearly losing his patience, “Why the hell do ya have to be so goddamn stubborn all the time, huh? Why can’t you just listen for once?”

You huffed to yourself at the irony, “Well, I guess you can say I learned from the best.”

“Shut the hell up.” he snarled.

“I wanna know why,” you retorted, “Why won’t you let me go in there with you and back you up on this? You really think I can’t handle myself?”

He growled, “I never fuckin said that.”

“Then why?” you snapped, equally losing your patience just as much as he was. At this rate, whoever was in that cabin could probably hear the two of you arguing with one another with how loud your voices seemed to rise.

“Because.” he huffed.

“Why?!”

“Because I love ya too damn much ta lose ya in there! I just want ya safe!”

In an instant, the world went silent. The two of you were breathing a bit heavier from all the yelling, looking at each other with equally wide eyes. You were shocked that he said something so vulnerable, while he on the other hand was terrified that now he might’ve ruined what he had with you. It wasn’t an easy thing for him to come to terms with his feelings, but admitting them out loud felt like an entirely different ballpark. The man now just stood frozen, trying to anticipate your reaction as if he was expecting something negative.

But you surprised him.

“And I love you too damn much to let you do this by yourself.” you said, your voice now unexpectedly soft, “We’ve had each other’s backs for years…and this isn’t any different.”

Daryl stared at you with slightly wide eyes after you said that, not only because you refused to listen to him again, but because you said you loved him too. You loved him. He never in his wildest dreams ever thought it would be physically possible for you to love someone like him, but here you were, pouring your heart out just as he was. Neither of you had been very good about expressing how you felt for one another; there was never really a need for words as you both silently already knew. But now as everything was laid out on display, it was a new kind of uncomfortable that you both just wanted to crawl away from.

Though in the midst of all the tension, Daryl finally allowed you to come with him towards the cabin with a nod of his head, both of you preparing yourself for the sight you would see. But it wasn’t nearly as bad as you were expecting.

Both Lydia and Elijah were tied up on opposite ends of the small house, all of their supplies and weapons completely missing as they were left with nothing. Both of you were quick to untie them, taking them by the arms as they began to tell you that they were held at gunpoint by a few bandits, demanding that they give up all their things to them. And to make sure they wouldn’t follow, the bandits had apparently tied and locked them up inside for God only knows how long. You felt awful as you saw the minor injuries on them from the experience, but mostly you were just thankful that they were alive.

You spent the car ride back to Alexandria in the backseat of the vehicle, comforting Lydia as she leaned against you, telling you bit by bit of what she could remember. It was surely traumatizing for the both of them, and you wanted her to know that you were there to listen to whatever she needed to get off her chest. Even Elijah chimed in a one point once he was comfortable enough, needing to talk about the scary experience just as much as she did. But as for you and Daryl, neither of you uttered a word, not forgetting about the small moment you had just seconds before you found them.

The sun was beginning to set by the time the four of you made it back to the community, many people waiting in anticipation at the gates. But they were soon all filled with great relief as soon as they saw the two young adults step out of the car, receiving hugs and reassuring words the moment they realized you had brought them back safely. Though you were quick to usher the two of them back towards the infirmary when you got the chance, wanting to make sure the minor cuts and bruises would heal properly as you offered to clean them up before they went home for some much needed rest.

Occasionally you glanced out the window to see Daryl and Aaron still talking near the front gate, part of you wondering if he would just go home. Leave without uttering a word about the argument that happened between the two of you. Daryl tended to run from these kinds of things, you knew that better than anyone, but you couldn’t lie to yourself and say you wouldn’t be a little heartbroken if he did this time. You didn’t want him to go, not knowing the next time you would even see him. But another part of you didn’t even know what to say if he did decide to see you one last time.

Eventually once you were finished up you cleaned up the station you used, wishing Lydia and Elijah goodnight as you hugged both of them tightly. All was quiet in Alexandria as there were only a few stragglers left outside, the sun now finally nowhere to be found as you slowly made your way home. Though without even realizing, you subtly kept an eye out for Daryl. He could’ve asked to spend the night in one of the spare homes since it had gotten late, assuming he would want to leave in the morning. But then again maybe he just wanted to get out of here, go home to his own bed with Dog who was surely missing him by now.

But he didn’t even say goodbye.

Your chest felt a bit heavier at the thought, mindlessly walking into your darkened house as your mind continued to spiral at the events of today. Although you stopped completely in your tracks when you noticed the light illuminating your living room, swearing you hadn't forgotten to turn it off just earlier today. Hesitantly, you peered around the corner to see none other than Daryl sitting on the couch, seemingly lost in his own little world as he stared down at his hands. Though he sensed your presence almost immediately, his head snapping up as he quickly stood to his feet, feeling a bit awkward now realizing that he had just come into your house without your permission.

He then cleared his throat, “I uh…I didn’t wanna leave without sayin goodbye.”

You didn’t know why, but something seemed to snap inside you once he said that. Knowing that he was just going to run right back to the Commonwealth without a second thought. “Really? You’re going to rush back there tonight? Just like that?”

He gave you a look, “Don’t…don’t do that.”

You scoffed with a shake of your head, “Don’t do what? I’m just calling it like it is. I don’t see you for months, and this is how you want to leave things between us? With some pathetic goodbye, not knowing the next time we’ll see each other again?”

“Hey, you got no right sayin that shit to me.” he said with a slight raise of his voice, “Yer the one who left, remember? Not me.”

You laughed bitterly, “You can’t blame me for that. I was miserable there, and I know you were too! And yet you’re still living there day after day-”

“M’ stayin there because of those kids!” he cut you off, “You know damn well how important they are to me, so yeah, I’ll be miserable if it means I can still be there for em. I ain’t gonna just leave em there.”

“I’m not asking you to leave them Daryl! I know how important they are to you, you practically raised them. But that doesn’t mean you get to just shut me out of your life completely. You give me this whole sob story in the car about how much they miss me, and you miss me, but if I recall, I haven’t seen you put in an effort to visit me once!”

“Oh you gotta lot of damn nerve sayin that to me.” he spoke with an edge to his tone, both of you getting more worked up with each comment you spat at each other. “You only came back because you needed my help, like m’ yer fuckin errand boy or some shit!”

You let out a sound of disbelief as you point towards him, “Don’t you dare go there! You’re no better than I am, and you know it. You would’ve never stepped foot back here unless there was some kind of emergency.” you spat, “You never made an effort, not even once! And after everything you said to me…”

A certain fire ignited behind his eyes once you said that, “How the hell else you expect me to react when yer tellin me yer leavin, huh?! What am I supposed to do with that?!”

“Be supportive!” you yelled, “Be happy that I’m finally going back to doing what I love! That’s what you do!”

“Why’re we fighting again?!” he suddenly questioned in frustration.

“I don’t know!”

It had been nothing but back and forth between you two since the moment you saw each other, battling with your own overpowering feelings. It was weird to think about how you never used to be like this, you never so much as argued playfully in the past, and yet now here you are at each other's throats. The silence had never been so loud in the small dimly lit house, waiting for someone to make some kind of move.

But then suddenly, Daryl seemed to make up his mind as he stepped forward. He didn’t want things to end with you like this, the last thing he wanted was to see you upset. And the urge to just finally allow his feelings to unleash was getting more and more overwhelming, needing you to know how he really felt.

He approached you in record speed, not even giving you any time to react before he gently cupped your face, capturing your lips with his. Your eyes widened at how fast everything seemed to happen, quickly pushing his shoulders to get him off of you. He instantly backed away when he sensed your discomfort, now looking like a deer in headlights as he came to the realization that he made a huge mistake.

“I…m’ sorry, I didn’t-”

“No,” you cut him off, “I don’t want you to kiss me, just to make all of this magically go away. I want you to kiss me, because…because it actually means something to you.” you breathed.

His eyes softened as it clicked in his mind what you were trying to say. You didn’t push him away because you didn’t want it to happen; you pushed him away because you were scared it was completely meaningless to him. But that wasn’t true. It wasn’t true at all.

Daryl slowly stepped closer to you again, hesitating slightly before pressing a gentle, lingering kiss to your forehead, “It means everythin…” he whispered against your skin.

That was a fantastic answer.

The moment you heard his confirmation, you leaned up to kiss him passionately, your arms looping around his neck as you pulled him into you. He took a moment to recover from your movements, but soon he found he was kissing you back with just as much eagerness, gripping your hips tightly. His mind went hazy as he was on cloud nine, almost not believing this was really happening. He had pictured this moment in his mind a hundred times before, but truly nothing could have prepared him for the utter bliss he was about to experience.

The two of you quickly grew more desperate for each other as the gentle kiss turned into something much greater, your tongues now fighting for dominance as you let out soft sounds of approval and desperation. Without even thinking, the two of you inched closer toward your bedroom on the main level, already clawing desperately at the fabric of your clothes.

Your knees eventually hit the back of the bed, causing you to stumble a little as you fell back onto the mattress, pulling him on top of you as you didn’t want your lips to part for even a second. Daryl could already feel the fire building in his stomach, the strong urge spreading throughout his body as he began to crave you. His hands moved everywhere he could reach, as if he wanted to memorize every inch of your body, every dip and curve was some kind of uncharted territory.

You then felt him pull back slightly to break the heated kiss, needing to taste more of you as he left hot, open mouthed kisses across your jawline, making his way down at an incredibly slow pace. A whimper was pulled from your lips as his teeth grazed your skin, gently nipping at your flesh to leave a trail of love bites to your exposed neck. The stubble on his face that scratched against your skin somehow made it even better, tickling you slightly as it sent a shiver up your spine.

Daryl smirked to himself as he felt your muscles twitch, moving his mouth to drag his tongue along your chest, before he lowered his head even more to slightly lift your shirt, kissing along your stomach. Your hands grasped the hem of your shirt as soon as he pulled it up, easily tugging it up and over your head to toss it carelessly somewhere on the floor. He groaned as his eyes scanned over your new exposed skin, feeling you sit up slightly to unhook the back of your bra, before shrugging it off just as fast.

His lips parted, his eyes hazy and filled with lust as his hands came up to brush across the sides of your breasts, “God, you drive me crazy…” he muttered under his breath.

You couldn’t help but smile up at him, leaning in to kiss him again as his hand moved to gently massage your breasts, squeezing them with the perfect amount of pressure. You gasped softly as he rolled your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger, easily getting a rise out of you as your back slightly arched in response. He could feel your chest rising and falling rapidly beneath him, your impatience growing as you could feel your arousal pooling against the fabric of your underwear. Your hands then moved up to blindly undo the buttons on his shirt, your nimble fingers struggling a bit as you tried to keep up with his sloppy kiss.

He then grunted at your attempts, breaking away from you momentarily to rip his shirt off his chest. Quite literally. Your eyes widened as the buttons flew everywhere, the navy blue top now looking more like a piece of a fabric sample than an actual shirt.

You couldn’t help but laugh lightly as your hands reached out to feel his toned chest, “Hm…I wish you had another shirt just so I could watch you do that again.”

He smirked, “Don’t worry...I got plenty of other ways to put on a show for ya.” he spoke before he gave you a wink, his hands reaching down to tug on your jeans.

Your excitement grew as you sat up on your elbows, watching as he swiftly undid the button and the zipper of your pants before pulling them clean off your legs in one swift motion. He seemed to be very efficient, that's for damn sure. Though a wicked grin crossed the man’s face when he saw the small wet patch on your thong, his thumb teasingly running over your clothed core. You sucked in a soft breath as he gently pushed on your clit, your head rolling back and your toes curling at the shockwave sensation.

“This all for me? Hm?” he practically purred, his southern drawl bringing goosebumps to your skin as his thumb continued to tease you.

Your hands gripped the sheets beside you as you nodded your head with a small “mhm”, silently begging him to keep going.

He seemed quite pleased as his lip quirked up in a smile, “Mm that’s my girl.” he muttered softly as he placed a few lingering kisses on your stomach, his words causing you to spiral. You never thought he would say that to you, hell you never even thought you wanted him to say that to you. But now that he had, you never wanted him to stop.

His mouth then hovered over the elastic of your underwear, his teeth moving down to bite at it before he tugged the piece of fabric off of you using only his mouth. Well if you weren’t turned on before, you sure as hell were now.

Daryl then couldn’t wait any longer as the sight of you bare beneath him was beginning to be too much, his movements frantic as his belt jingled when he began to unbuckle it. Your eyes watched his every move as he tugged his pants and boxers off in record speed, kicking them off of his ankles to see he was already throbbing for you. The sight was enough to make you whine quietly, squirming in anticipation as his large frame hovered over you.

But although he was practically drooling to finally please you the way you deserved, he still couldn’t help but tease you a bit. And maybe, just maybe, he enjoyed torturing himself a bit as well. He dragged his tip through your soaking wet folds, the friction being enough for your hips to rock up in a sudden jolt. The sounds coming out of you were utterly sinful, and he loved it. Your hands again gripped the sheets below you, fidgeting relentlessly as he continued to tease your entrance, occasionally circling your clit which caused you to moan.

“Ah!” you cried softly as he barely pushed inside you, before pulling himself out just as quickly, “Please...” you whispered breathlessly.

He groaned lowly as he saw you practically falling apart for him already, leaning down to place a few kisses along your cheek, “Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want.”

“You.” you said instantly, “I want you…”

He smirked to himself, “I want you too sweetheart.” he kissed along your neck as he muttered those few words into your skin, “So much…”

The excruciating wait was finally gone in what seemed like a split second, not being able to hold back any longer as Daryl finally pushed himself into you. Your mouth dropped as your head fell back onto the bed, hearing him let out an exaggerated groan as he felt your tight walls already clenching around him.

“God…you feel like heaven sweet girl.” he mumbled as he fought to catch his breath, his mind swirling with ecstasy as he was completely drunk off of you. He couldn’t wrap his head around it, how you felt so perfect as if you were made for him.

Your chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, squeezing your legs around his waist, “Keep going...” you practically begged, physically needing him to move.

He didn’t need to be told twice. He slowly began to pound into you at a steady pace, watching your facial expressions to try and find what felt the best for you. You moaned sensually as his hips began to slap against yours, feeling the length of him moving in and out at a steady pace. Your hands then moved to trace up his bare arms, feeling his muscles flex underneath your featherlight touch as they landed on his shoulders, needing to feel more of him.

His breaths grew heavier as they came out in short pants, gradually speeding up, completely enamored with how your breasts bounced with each thrust he gave. Your hands began gripping his shoulders a bit tighter as your eyes squeezed shut, whimpering as you could already feel your orgasm begin to pool in your belly. How he was able to do that with little to no actions at all, you had no idea. But you didn’t care. It was like all the longing the two of you had felt for each other was just spilling out all at one time as you finally gave into your desires.

“Faster.” you panted, “Please.”

Your words spurred him on as he instantly began to pound harsher into you, the bed frame squeaking against the wall as his movements were quick and sharp. The pornographic sounds easily slipped from your lips as you felt him rock even deeper inside of you, causing your nails to scratch and grip against his skin. He groaned deeply as he felt your hands digging into him, only urging him on more as he rolled his hips whilst thrusting into you, a sharp gasp escaping you as he tickled that sweet spot so perfectly.

He liked that sound. He liked it a lot; rolling his hips against yours again and again in order to pull more of those beautiful sounds out of you.

You cried out blissfully as you felt yourself clench against him, the familiar tingling sensation vibrating through you as your legs squeezed around his waist to keep him locked in place. He felt a bead of sweat pool down his face as he groaned, leaning down to gently nip at your collarbone, hearing your moans of pleasure right next to his ear. He could tell you were getting close, feeling himself following right along with you, but a part of him wanted to be at your mercy. A part of him wanted to see you riding out your high on top of him, needing to snap a mental image of the most perfect thing he could ever lay his eyes on.

You were taken off guard as he suddenly slowed his movements, flipping you over so you were straddling his hips as he laid flat on his back. Your dazed and confused look made him want to chuckle, but he didn't. Instead, he spoke.

“Use me however you want…” he panted as he continued to gently thrust himself into you, “I’m yours, baby…completely yours.” he said softly, wanting you to be in control of him.

Though you didn't expect the sudden change of events, his words surprised you, and it turned you on. More than you were ever willing to admit.

After the initial shock wore off within merely seconds, you didn’t hesitate as you began to bounce on top of him, the new angle making your legs shake wildly. His big hands held your hips perfectly in pace as he matched your rhythm, silently thankful that you lived alone as the volume in the room was growing louder with each passing second. You watched as he threw his head back with a soft whine, keeping his eyes on you the whole time as you slowly started to find your release.

“That’s it sweetheart…that’s it.” he spoke soothingly as he leaned up to place wet kisses across your stomach, his thumb finding its way to toy with your clit to send you over the edge.

You cried out loudly as that was all you needed to come undone, your muscles twitching as you rode it out as long as you possibly could. Feeling you clench around him mixed with the lustful sounds that came out of you was all Daryl could take before he reached his own climax, swiftly pulling out of you as he groaned lowly against your skin.

You didn’t know how much time passed as the two of you were in a complete state of bliss, trying to come down from the incredible high you just experienced. You felt his hands trace soothing circles against your hips as his face was now buried in your breasts, feeling the heat of his breath dancing against your bare skin. A content sigh left your lips as you found yourself wondering why it had taken you two so long to do this. But then again you assumed it was never the right time, and in your opinion it was worth the wait. You couldn’t think of anything more perfect than this.

Daryl then began to come to his senses as his heart finally slowed down to a steady pace, his lips beginning to trail up towards your collarbone lovingly. Your fingers ran through his messy, tangled hair, growing a bit sad as you looked down at him, reality coming back to remind you that this couldn’t last forever. But a selfish part of you wanted it to.

“Don’t go.” you whispered.

He looked up from what he was doing, seeing the slightly distraught look on your face that instantly made his lips morph into a frown, “What’re you talkin bout?”

You shook your head, “Stay…stay here with me. Don’t go.”

His eyes softened as he raised his hands to gently cup your face, “Hey, I ain’t goin anywhere sweetheart. M’ stayin right here.”

“But…what about Judith? RJ? I can’t…I don’t want to make you choose.” you said softly, fearing that in the back of your mind, things would just go back to how they were. Regardless of the passion you shared.

He smiled softly, “Baby, you ain’t makin me choose. We’ll figure somethin else out together, alright? Because I do know one thing…I sure as hell don’t want us to be apart like that ever again.”

You slowly nodded your head in agreement, “I don’t want that either…you have no idea how much I missed you. Leaving you was one of the biggest mistakes I’ve ever made.”

“It ain’t gonna happen again. I promise.” he said before leaning in to gently kiss your lips.

You didn’t know how, but his words mixed with the gentle kiss seemed to slowly melt your worries away as you couldn’t think about anything else but him. In the end you knew it would work itself out, feeling more content in this moment with him than you had felt in a very long time. Daryl made a mistake on letting you leave, his own frustration stopping him from preventing you from walking out that door, telling you how much you meant to him. Though he couldn’t change the past, and all those long months you missed out on with each other, he sure as hell could plan for the future.

And he was never planning on letting you go again.

~ Thanks for reading!

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