#i love when they let Garcia shine they should really do that more

[linda-rose]

"The Black Queen" is just. such a good episode. my heart is so full. 🥺

[admrlthundrbolt]

Danger To Myself (Krampus x Chubby Easter Bunny Reader)

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After reuniting with his brother. Krampus didn't think his life could get any better. How will he deal with meeting a cute chubby bunny on top of that. Will he be able to keep his instincts under control?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hey guys, I'm back at it again. I have a confession, I love Krampus. Ever since learning about his legend, I've been a huge fan. So when Red One showed him in such a different light, I knew it was my time to shine.

Anywho, hope you enjoy.

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He frowned at the mirror in front of him. Don't get him wrong. He was happy to rekindle his relationship with Nick. But a reintroduction dinner wasn't something he had been expecting. Still he was happy the other man wanted him in his life.

A knock came from the bathroom door. Breaking him away from his contemplated thoughts. Combing a hand through his already tousled hair. He opened the door, seeing the man on his mind.

His brother was cheerful as always. Slapping the taller man jovially on the back. That quickly turned into a tight hug. Nick was always one for physical affection. “What are you doing all cooped up in here. The guest are arriving.” His smile was wide and inviting.

Everything that the goatman wasn't feeling. Running a hand across his face, he shook his head. “Nicholas, I do not understand why you wanted this. Is it really a necessary thing. To introduce myself to all of these people?”

Taking the man's shoulders into his hands, he faced him. “Look at this as the start of a new thing. No more being holed up in your castle. I know you enjoy everyone's company there. But this is a golden opportunity. Broaden your horizons and all that.” Patting his shoulders a few times. He led him to the dinning room.

All the while he grimaced and regretted agreeing to his brother's offer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ok, so maybe his brother was right. There were a lot of new people to pop up since his banishment. It hurt to admit that they were also more interesting than he would have guessed. Jack Frost was a prankster, that he already made plans with to torment Nick. Garcia had finally grown out of his awkward teenage phase. It was still fun to tease him about it though. All in all it was a good time and dinner hadn't even started.

Then you walked in. He always knew he had a thing for larger women. But you were a different kind altogether. You were wide and plush, the perfect picture of fertility. It made his fingers twitch at the thought of how they would sink into your pliable flesh. His pulse was pounding as he took in your other more animalistic features. The flopping bunny ears, button nose scrunched, and cotton tail poking out of your pants. It was enough to have him gripping his drink to hard. The sound of shattering glass caused many eyes to swing his way. But the only ones he cared about was yours.

Your face became concerned as you rushed his way. Shifting the large dish you held to one hand. You grabbed his palm and looked it over carefully. Your touch was gentle and warm. Like a fire on a chilly winter night. Shifting his hand in your own soft one, relief washed over your face. Looking up at him you beamed. “Seems like there wasn't any harm done. But what else should I expect from the great Krampus.”

He flushed under his fur. Between your compliment and having to stop himself from reaching out for your touch. It was an intensity that he hadn't experienced before. One that he wasn't sure if he should give into or shun.

Before he could speak Nick's wife was coming over with a broom. “Oh, must have been a faulty glass. Let me clean this up.” Sweeping the broken bits into a festive dust pan, she smiled. “Eostre it's been to long.”

Bringing the smaller women into a one arm hug, you nodded. “Far to long. Especially if your using that outdated name. You know I prefer (Y/N) now.” Keeping your arm around her, you join her. Leaving the room for who knows where.

If he had an excuse he'd follow as well. Until then he'd have to wonder what was in your arms. Savoring the feeling of your name on his tounge.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn't long after that that dinner was served. It was quite the spread. Many of the items were Geman in origin. His bother did always know his favorites. Including the different varieties of alcohol. Piling his plate high, he sunk into the feast.

Everyone tucked into the food. Enjoying bits of conversation between bites. As he finished off his serving, eager to go in for seconds. Something caught his eye. A large dish half filled with a familiar dish. He wanted to kick himself for not noticing it sooner. It was a childhood favorite, Geman Baked Eggs. Ignoring all if the other platters, he scooped a large portion onto his plate. Bring a spoonful to his mouth, he had to pause. It was enough to make him hold back a moan. Butter, cheesey, and like velvet on his tounge. Better than any he had ever tasted before.

He quickly went for another bite. Only to be startled by your gaze on him. You were smirking and had raised an eyebrow at his obvious enjoyment. A part of him was defensive, while another was intrigued? He wasn't sure what to make of your attention.

Nick interupted the tension building between you. “Oh, I'm glad you noticed the casserole. The first time (Y/N) brought it over I told her how much you would enjoy it.”

His gaze snapped from you to his brother and back. You made this delicious dish from his homeland?

Your smirk seemed to widen at his confusion. Shrugging your shoulder, you leaned forward. As if you wanted to share a secret with him. Without a second thought he copied your motion. “We do share a similar history. Animalistic legends bound to a holiday. Just differing in attitude, that's all. Plus I always have plenty of eggs on hand.” You ended your statement with a wink.

Slumping a bit in his chair, he pondered you words. It was obvious you were tied to Easter. But he had never thought to visit the other legends from his own country. Always opting to stay tucked away in his keep. Or in the old days, with his brother. Maybe he had missed out on good times.

Returning your smile, he said. “It is a wonderful dish. You do our homeland proud.” Tapping a fist to his chest, he tips his head in your direction.

This causes your expression to become more sincere. Your foot begins to thump rhythmically on the ground. Something you hadn't done since a young age. Taking a gulp from your glass, hoping to cover up your embarrassment. “You should come by sometime.” His face shifts to one of surprise. “I can you know, show you around the farm. Give you a tour of the operation.” You hope that it didn't come of as desperate as you thought it sounded.

Nodding again he went for another bite. “That would be nice.” He would take his brother's advice. His horizon did seem to be broadening.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had given him directions to a vast glenn. It was filled with various flowers. Shrouded within a large thicket of old trees. It was a sight he hadn't enjoyed in quite some time. Looking around the beautiful scene before him, he grew nervous. What if you regretted allowing him here? Would he do something to offend you. Causing you to kick him out. Yet another place he would be banished from.

Shaking his head, he frowned deeply. How had you wrapped him around your finger after only a single meeting. He felt like a boy with a school crush. As his eyes landed on you across the field. He couldn't find it in himself to care. It just mattered that you wanted to spend time with him.

Jogging over to him, you smiled brightly. “I'm glad you could make it. It wasn't to hard to find was it?” You shuffled your feet a bit. It was always felt awkward the first time you invited someone over. The anxiety of it all made you foot want to bounce.

His heart flutter, between your concern and flustered appearance. He was sure this day would overload his senses. “It was no trouble, kleines Kaninchen. I am looking forward to today.”

You had to steady yourself. Little rabbit, you had never been called such a thing before. It was this moment that you were thankful for your fur. Not wanting the embarrassment of him seeing your blazing cheeks. “That's good. Now let's head down the rabbit hole.”

Snatching up his hand, you took off. He was startled at the strength your soft hand held. Sure he had expected speed. But the power in your hand wrapped around his own. If he had to guess, he belived it would be no challenge for you to carry him. Even at the hastened pace you were going at. You were practically lifting him off the ground.

He would have continued marveling at your strength. If it wasn't for the fact that you were pulling him towards a very small hole in the ground. Before he could call out, the burrow widened. Easily large enough to fit the two of you. Jumping in, you gave him a mischievous look over your shoulder. His breath caught as he plummeting down with you. And he could confidentiality say it wasn't the fall that caused his breath to stutter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It didn't take to long for the tour. Even if the farm was large, how else could you provide so many eggs and chocolates. There were only a handful of key buildings to show off. You offered to tell him all of the hens names. But the suggestion overwhelmed him. So you moved on from the vast field.

Coming up to a large building, you leaned towards him. In a low voice you said. “Don’t let the ladies know, but this is my favorite pass time. I could spend plenty of time with their feathery rumps. This though, will always be my passion project.”

Heading through the entrance, he could see what you meant. The sweet smell of chocolate filled the air in a delightful way. You made your way through the facilty. Nodding to the fellow woodland workers as you went. He knew being a goatman himself, it could be hard getting along with others. So it was a shock to see so many other animalistic humanoids. It made him feel oddly at ease. Though as he looked down at you. It seemed that was a feeling he was experiencing more and more.

Finishing up your conversation with a fox woman you nodded. Grabbing his arm, you wrapped it with your own plush one and continued forward. “I think you’ll enjoy our next stop as much as I do.”

The warmth of you body spread into him. If you were taking him there, he was sure he would enjoy every moment of it. “I will hold you to that, kleines Kaninchen.”

There it was again. The way it rolled from his tounge had you fighting off shivers. Your smile softened as you guided him deeper into the building.

Opening the door to your final destination, you glanced at him. Taking in his wide eyes and surprised expression. Stepping away from him you swept your arms wide. “This is our quality assurance room.” Candy was lined up, from wall to wall. It was organized by type and batch number, showing the sheer amount of variety. Making you way over to a smaller table, you waved him over. “I thought you might be interested in some of the more traditional chocolates. Though there is plenty more to try. If your taste is a bit more exotic.” You didn't miss the way his eyes seemed to dilate at your suggestion.

Heat pooled in his belly and he had to pause. You were a temptress, no a goddess of seduction. His muscles burned to pick you up and indulge in your taste. Bringing his face closer to yours his eyes become half lidded. “What would you recommend?”

In a flash your eyes lit up. Grabbing a speckled egg shaped chocolate you placed it to his lips. He was a bit shocked at your sudden change in demeanor. Still it was hard for him to resist your excitable nature. Closing his lips around the small confection, his eyes widened. It was creamy and smooth. As he bit into it he was surprised at the rush of spiced liquor flooding his tounge. “You are full of many surprises kleines Kaninchen.” Steping closer, he pressed his body against yours. “Show me more.”

You wasted no time, jumping up and wrapping your arms around his neck. Your lips moved feverish as they collided with his. He met you with just as much ferocity. Bringing his up hand to firmly grasp your plush bottom. He reveled un the way his finger sunk into you malleable flesh. Your bodies were flush against one another. Thrumming in the throws of passion.

When the door suddenly swung open. A deer man was looking over a clipboard as he entered. “Hey (Y/N), we need your….” As his gaze lifted from his work he gasped. Lifting the papers to his face he backed out of the room. Stammering out apologies profusely along the way.

Breathing heavily, he gently lowered you back to the floor. The both of your pulses were hammering in your ears. You sheepishly looked at him through your lashes. Admiring his rugged features as he gazed down at you. “I guess we could have picked a better place for something like this”

He smirked and nodded. “Perhaps I could return your hospitality. Have you ever explored in the depths of a castle?” His eyebrows raised suggestively as you giggled.

Resting your hand on his firm chest, you beamed. “I'm always up for a new experience. I've heard of a castle that has eternal Krampusnacht. I wonder if they can keep up with a bunny there.”

Your taunt got his blood boiling. Hefting your plush body up with one arm, he grins. Your lips met in another scorching kiss. “We will have to see, kleines Kaninchen.”

With that the two of you made your way out. Hoping that you hadn't mentally scarred you worker. But eagerly anticipating what your next meeting might bring.

[realmadridfamily]

What do you think of the new signings? In the last few years, I felt that we were almost only thinking about Mbappe and I was a bit disappointed (even though good players came). I’m way more enthusiastic this year : it’s not all about the superstar and more about good players who, I hope, will shine in the club, and preparing the future. I’m really happy Joselu came and I hope he will do great things. Also, I hope Güler will be patient enough to grow here and stay even if he doesn’t play a lot.

To be honest, I am quite satisfied with this transfer window. Of course, I know we lack a top striker, but I don't think anyone expected Benzema's sudden departure, which ruined the plans for this season a bit. But I like the attitude of the president and the board, who didn't rush to look for a replacement, spending a lot of money because we know very well how it ended recently. I'm already lost in the whole Mbappe situation, but if he really wants to join Real Madrid next year, it really made no sense to pay almost 100 million for Kane. And if he joined now … the money for his transfer was always there. I don't think everything depends on Mbappe, although he is the reason we have Camavinga :) On the other hand, Real Madrid needs players like him, and as long as there is a chance that he will eventually land in Madrid, it will be taken into account. I don't see anyone interesting on the transfer market. Here I have to add that I love that Vini got number "seven" and I think Rodrygo should get number "ten" when Luka leaves. This is also a clear message for Mbappe - he won't rule here. I am also happy with Joselu's return because I think we missed a player with such a profile. This is another move by the club that I like. Fran Garcia reminds me of Dani Carvajal in the beginning. First some nerves, but then top. I wish him that. I'm curious about Brahim as Marco's deputy. For sure he is different, more mobile, but will he give us as many goals as Marco? On the other hand, we know perfectly well how Asensio's matches looked like: good-bad-good-bad. Brahim definitely needs more minutes to show what he can do. Arda Güler is a mystery for now, though I'm starting to get excited about it. His confidence impressed me. I can't wait for his debut! Kepa is a surprise due to an unexpected twist. I like him and I'm more than happy, but I'm afraid of what will happen next year. It's obvious that Thibaut will come back and I wish him with all my heart, but then will Kepa agree to be the other one? And of course our galactic transfer, Jude Bellingham :) I was hoping he would choose Real Madrid and I have to admit that I am impressed by players who choose our club over others … just like Tchouameni or Camavinga or Arda. Then I know they understand what Real Madrid is. And it shows. I admit that I laughed at all these fears that Jude would sit on the bench in Madrid. People shouldn't talk about Real Madrid if they don't know anything about it. Because it was obvious that Jude was going to be a first-team player. I don't know, maybe his fans didn't fully appreciate him, but the Madridistas knew why he came here. Kroos and Modric too :) Yes, we are missing a top striker. Yes, we lost our best goalkeeper and defender. But that doesn't make us crazy. Every move of the president and the board is well thought out. That's why, our economic situation is very good. Even if we lose one season, let's remember that the whole future is ahead of us :)

[fidogo]

I hope I'm in your dreams (The way you are in all of my mine) - m.g.

Synopsis: Fanboy tends to drift to the background, happy to let Rooster and Phoenix shine in attention. But maybe he's found a place to shine. Tags: NSFT, alcohol, unprotected sex (Don't do this!), penetrative sex, creampie, implied cum eating, sappy emotions, dumb stupid ending lmao but to me its funny Word Count: 1.5k AN: umm I like Fanboy and uhhh wish he had more screen time LMAO

Mickey Garcia is used to being in the background. 

Not to the extent of Bob, who sits quietly, observing everything all the time. But Mickey plays a backup role within the Dagger squad. He’s not sure when he realized it. Somewhere between following Phoenix around, laughing at Roosters antics or, hell, sitting behind Payback in the fucking plane. 

And Mickey doesn’t mind per se. He truly doesn’t it. He loves his friends and he loves what he does. He clicks with them, they each have a role to play. 

And he does well enough for himself when it comes to romancing someone. Nowhere near as well as Hangman or Rooster, but as much as they attract attention, he’s a witness to the inevitable times they crash and burn, a loyal first responder to the wreckage.

He’s happy where he is. 

But dear god you have to be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his entire life. 

And as Mickey watches you raise your eyebrow at Jake, unimpressed by his antics, and he rethinks his place in the background. No, Mickey Garcia is going to woo you. 

As soon as he works up the nerve. 

Which is hard when you keep sending him cute little smiles, circling the rim of your glass with your finger, and- oh god why are you touching his arm? 

It’s been two weeks of back and forth antics, that ultimately end with him running away to the bar, or hiding outside to “catch some air.”

Bob thinks it's cause he really likes you, more than the random hookups he’s had in the past. Mickey had brushed it off at the time, but right now, watching you laugh at Coyote’s dumb joke has his blood boiling. 

“Just ask her out, man.” Reuben’s voice cuts through the chaos of Mickey’s mind. He's good like that, able to pull him out of his head when he overthinks.

But right now Mickey just takes a swig of his beer, eyes narrowed at Payback. His pilot holds his hands up in defense. “I’m just saying she’s clearly into you. Despite you fumbling the bag easily 3 different times.” 

“Shut up, Payback,” Mickey groans ignoring his embarrassment and taking another drink.

A warm hand slaps his back, and he sputters. 

“Better slow down on the beers, Fanboy. You may lose another chance to ask her out,” Rooster crows into his ear, a little too loudly. 

“Shut up!” Mickey repeats, praying to god you didn’t hear. Rooster laughs loudly, slapping his back again, and Mickey smiles at his own misfortune, wondering what’s wrong with himself. 

“Did I hear Mickey had too much to drink?” you call out, voice ringing out above the noise.

Fuck.

“Well, I certainly don’t mind taking you home. You and Payback still in that Navy house off base?” And Mickey just blinks up at you dumbly, wondering if you’re lips are as soft as they look.

“Yeah, we’re still there! I’ve got plans tonight, so I can’t take him home. Thanks so much.” Mickey's torn between thanking Reuben and strangling him, but you just smile, before gently tugging on his arm. 

“Let’s get you home, handsome.” 

The car ride is silent, and Mickey keeps glancing at you nervously. 

He’s a naval flight officer and a TOPGUN program graduate. His palms should not be sweating because of a random civilian who’s wormed her way into his friend group. 

But you look so pretty as the moon streams in through the window. 

“I’m not drunk,” he blurts out, and he winces when the car jerks slightly at his outburst. But you snort, rolling your eyes. 

“I know Mickey. I just wanted to spend some time with you alone, and it seemed like you wanted to get out of there.” 

“Oh.”

You hum in acknowledgment before shooting him a sly glance. 

“Now I’ll be a perfect gentleman, so don’t worry about me damaging your honor.”

He smiles at that, relaxing into his seat, and he tries to ignore the way your fingers ghost against each other on top of the armrest console. 

Mickey’s almost sad when you pull into the driveway of the shitty Navy housing he and Payback managed to score.

But then he realizes, one, he’s not actually drunk, two, you like him, and three, you want to be alone with him. And something clicks in his mind.

“Do you wanna come inside?” 

And you smile at him so prettily that his heart skips a beat.

“Why Lieutenant, I thought you’d never ask.”

____

He hisses, sliding his cock through your folds, bumping the pearl of your clit. A small whine escapes your throat, hips bucking against him, trying to coax him inside. 

He watches your face as he continues to thrust like this, grazing your clit, soaking his cock. Mickey’s wanted you splayed out like this for him since the moment he first saw you, desire only increasing as he’s gotten to know you. He’s not going to rush this, no, Mickey wants you to remember this, him. Wants you to want him the way he wants you. 

“Mickey,” you cry out, pulling him from his thoughts, bringing him back to this moment. “Mickey, please. Please don’t make me wait anymore.” 

He coos at your begging, thumb sweeping away the tears that barely gather at the corner of your eyes. 

“Yea, baby? You’ve been so good for me, letting me take my time with you.” You nod, lips pursing in a pout as he leans forward to kiss them. “I’ll take care of you, baby. Give you what you need.” 

You smile against his lips, reaching a hand down to keep your pussy open for him. He hums, drawing back to watch, as his cock finally slips inside you. 

Mickey shivers, hissing at the warmth of your cunt as he slowly fills you. Holy fucking shit. 

Your hands lurch out, nails digging into his forearms. “Mickey! Shit.” He sighs, chest feeling empty as you clench around him. One of his hands grips your waist tightly, and his other hand wrangles one of yours, threading your fingers together.

“You feel so good, baby. Gonna move now,” he chokes out. You nod, squeezing his hand. 

Mickey draws back slowly, eyes nearly rolling back at the way you tighten around him as if you want him to stay inside. 

“Holy shit,” he mutters as he pushes back in. “You’re so wet for me, huh?” You nod, rocking your hips against him as his rhythm increases. 

“Yea,” you pant. “Been wanting you to fuck me for weeks, Lieutenant.” He groans, dropping to his forearms to kiss you. It’s messy, his tongue entering your mouth, as you gasp against him. His chest presses against yours, and you free your hands, only to anchor them on his back, nails dragging against his skin. 

The room fills with the wet sound of your arousal the smack of skin against skin. His bed creaks beneath you as his hips press you into the mattress. It’s lewd and makes your stomach flip in the best way possible.

He feels so good, so warm, surrounding you and filling you so sweetly. Your hips rock in time with his thrusts, and you shut your eyes, overwhelmed with a white-hot sensation that makes your toes curl.

Mickey inhales deeply, enraptured by you, the way your body moves beneath. So responsive, so sensitive... Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realizes he'd do anything to keep you happy, keep you safe.

There's a telltale twitch in his abdomen, and he frowns; he wishes he could last longer, but it's too much. You feel so good, the way you tighten around him like you want him to finish. But Mickey Garcia wants you to cum around his cock. Earlier on his fingers wasn't enough, he needs to feel it.

“God, you feel so good,” he mutters into your skin, leaving kisses as he trails down your neck. “Such a good girl for me.” 

You preen under his attention, shivering under his touch. “Wanted you so bad, Mickey. Kept touching myself, pretending it was you,” you confess, feeling drunk from the way he's fucking you. 

“Oh fuck.” Mickey’s cock twitches inside you, and his brain is flooded with images of you writhing on a bad, fingers shoved in your cunt, wanting him there. “Fuck, baby. Fuck. Never leaving you empty again.” 

“Mickey, I’m close,” you whine, almost embarrassed at how desperate you are, but you can’t find it in you to care, not when Mickey’s looking at you with hearts in his eyes, his hips continuously crashing into yours. 

“I know, baby,” he whispers, and he manages to force his hand where your bodies meet, a thick finger swirling against your clit. You whine, jaw clenching as your body tenses, your pussy feeling molten as Mickey continues to fuck into you. 

It’s intense, more intense than normal, the pressure feeling monumental, and you cry out, writhing against the bed, as you cum around his cock. It feels so good, a release you've been craving for weeks.

Mickey groans, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of you pulsing around him, and his core flexes, as he finally lets your warm cunt milk him for what he’s worth. 

You stay tense around him, thighs clenched at his waist, arms grappled around his torso. 

It's with soft words and gentle hands that Mickey unwraps you, pressing sweet kisses on your face. He gently removes his softening cock, soothing you with kisses as you hiss at the discomfort. 

You’re completely fucked out, chest heaving as your eyes shut. Mickey watches you with fondness and a deep ache in his heart. And something in his gut stirs. Slowly, as if not to spook you, he leaves a trail of kisses down your sweaty body, and he finds himself between your thighs. 

“Mickey?” you ask shakily, blinding reaching to pet his hair. He nuzzles into the plushness of your flesh, thumbs gently pulling your fucked out cunt apart, and he watches as his cum trickles out of you. Fuck.

“Let me do this for you, baby. Please, gotta taste us.” You whine, propping yourself up to watch him, and he grins at you, something in it shys on the side of arrogance, but it makes your heart stutter. 

As your moans fill the air, Mickey hums against your cunt. 

Everyone has their spot, a role to fill, and he now knows without a doubt, that he was made to be in-between your legs. 

[skiller0dani]

Old Prison Blues | Spencer Reid

M A S T E R L I S T Criminal Minds Masterlist

smut | dom!spencer x bau!reader requests info w.c | 7.2k summary | when your husband Spencer gets released from Prison, he's much different then you remember.

I have it so bad for this man, enjoy! Also guys this piece made butterflies squirm in my belly lmao this one is so HOT it made me blush. Guys, it made me B L U S H. I need to go dunk myself in holy water to atone for this SIN. (just kidding lmao I'm agnostic).

you can see his bulge in this gif and I can't stop admiring looking at it.

When you were in college you'd been an undergraduate in Criminal Justice, so you were familiar with the effects Prison has on the psyche. In other words, you knew Spencer would come back different. No person could pass through Prison unscathed and frankly you'd be more concerned if he came back and nothing had changed at all. At home, he seemed to be relatively okay, and those 6 mandatory weeks of break had allowed him the rest he deserved. Nothing exciting had happened during those weeks, the only thing you did was curl up on the couch next to him and watch movies. You'd made up for all those weeks in Prison during the evenings when you would cling to him and cry out his name in ecstasy.

Spencer really did seem to be fine, until you returned to work. That's when you started to see all the ways Prison had hardened him.

At first, it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. If you were someone who knew Spencer well then you knew that he wasn't a man who was confident in his looks. When you and Spencer first got married he was insecure, and would be discouraged when you hung out with other guys. You wouldn't say he was jealous because jealously in itself requires a certain amount of anger. But when Spencer saw you around other men he wasn't angry, he was sad. Absolutely convinced you were going to leave him any second, despite you telling him you married him because you love him. Deep down, he always thought somebody would steal you from him even though you consistently reminded him how much you love him. That's just the kind of guy Spencer is.

Or, was.

The darkness that brews in Prison, the violent hatred, the anger seems to have followed Spencer to freedom. It has made a home in his chest, and while you're not worried about Spencer flying off the deep end and shooting an innocent, the anger reveals itself in much more subtle ways. It's in the way he clenches his jaw when he can't figure something out, or the blanching of his knuckles as he grips the steering wheel with a crushing force, it's the agitation in his eyes when he watches Alvez's knuckles brush against your lower back for the 3rd time since you two had arrived at the office this morning. The anger has adapted to civilian life like Spencer has, it's learned. It's subtle. Unfortunately you know Spencer almost better then he knows himself, you can tell when something is bothering him.

You slide your hands over his shoulders, and much to your surprise you feel him tense.

"You okay?" You know it's a stupid question, but you have to ask.

"Yeah, fine." Spencer's tone is clipped, shoulders rigid, back straight. Something is definitely bothering him. You squeeze his shoulders and begin to work at the tightened muscles, slowly easing them to relax. The tension flows out of him as he relaxes back in his desk chair, the frustration ebbing away slightly when his eyes catch your wedding ring. The object that binds you to him.

"Don't shut me out." You whisper, a soft plea in your voice. Spencer's heart wretches when he hears the fear in your tone, and one of his hands comes up to catch yours. He presses a chaste kiss to one of your knuckles before swiveling around to face you. You always find a way to soothe the violent, raging beast inside of him. Spencer's hands find your hips as he turns his gaze up to look at you.

"You're right I'm sorry. Just tense today." He says softly, and while there is a little lie to his words, his statement remains mostly the truth. He just leaves out the part where he pictures enacting varying forms of violence on Luke Alvez. The man who keeps unnecessarily touching his wife. You lean down to press a kiss to his forehead, your head snapping up when Garcia calls from the conference room.

"Got a case folks, and it's an ugly one." Her nose scrunches up into a frown before she turns into the room. You pull away from Spencer, yanking him to his feet by his hand. Luke sends you a playful wink as he trots up the stairs, and while you don't necessarily react to it, it still puts Spencer on edge. Deep down Spencer always knew you were way out of his league, but that never became clearer then when you came to visit him in Prison.

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

You were trembling as you lowered yourself into the chair. Dried tears were on your cheeks, and you haven't even seen Spencer yet. The last time you saw him was a few weeks prior after he first got back from Mexico. Seeing his wrists bound in those metal handcuffs had broken your heart in a way you never anticipated. You wrung your hands together, luckily when Penelope had made the visitation Chart she scheduled you as the first person to come see him. The plastic chair was uncomfortable, but what was worse was the plastic guard separating you from Spencer. The clock ticked loudly, it was clearly mocking you. Reminding you of the seconds you were losing with Spencer, reminding you of all the seconds he was spending in Prison.

When you hear the buzzer scream loudly, you nearly come out of your seat you're so excited to see him. You and Spencer got married back in 2005, and you've never been separated from him for longer then a week. It's been over a month now, and each day he's not with you leaves a bigger hole in your chest. You watch him follow the other prisoners out, and the handcuffs around his wrists breaks your heart. His eyes light up the second he sees you, he nearly shoves the other guy over to get to you faster. There are tears in your eyes as Spencer's wrists are released from the cuffs from the guard standing nearby.

"Hey baby." Spencer says softly as he takes his seat across from you. All you want is to reach across the stupid barrier and touch him, hold his hand, anything. But you know the guards will punish him if he does, but being this close to him without being able to hold him is absolutely killing you. You try to blink the tears out of your eyes so that Spencer won't see, but it's all too much. Seeing him in a jumpsuit, with cuff bruises around his wrists, having to sleep in the same building as murderers. The first tear falls and you immediately look away from him.

"Please don't cry." Spencer begs softly. "I'm okay, really."

You wipe your tears before you look back up at him, digging around in your bag for a gift from Henry. You smile when you see the happiness cross onto his face as you pull the piece of paper out.

"Henry drew this for you, it's from when you guys went to the park." You hold it up for him to see and you try to fight another onslaught of tears when you see his eyes misting.

"You know, when I get out of here we should have one." Spencer says it so casually, you almost miss it. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head as you carefully lower the drawing.

"You want to try for a baby?" You can't hide the smile, and you see Spencer's eyes shine for the first time since he's been in here.

"Yeah, I want to have a baby with you." You and Spencer had a brief conversation about kids a few years ago, and you knew Spencer wasn't ready for it back then. His Father ran out on him and Diana when Spencer was just a kid, it made Spencer insecure about the type of Father he would end up being. In Spencer's mind, a fatherless man would never make a good Father. But it seems he's changed his mind. You had no issues agreeing to wait before you had kids until he was ready, you always knew Spencer would be a fantastic Father.

Suddenly from Spencer's right you hear a low wolf whistle. The tenderness that was on Spencer's face is instantly wiped away. His expression tenses, his jaw clenching as he turns his gaze to a large burly looking man covered in tattoos. The man sitting across from him, the one who was visiting, looked similar. Both of the biker looking men were eyeing me hungrily, it made my skin crawl.

"Something I can help you with?" Spencer asks, his voice tense. The tension in the room grows tenfold, and you fight the instinct to try and scoot closer to Spencer. The Biker looks Spencer in the eyes, a taunting smile on his face.

"That your sister?"

"Wife." Spencer snaps instantly.

"Your wife?" The Biker says incrediously, Spencer raises a brow, daring him to continue. "There's no way a woman with an ass that tight would marry a man as scrawny as you."

You expected to see insecurity flash in Spencer's eyes, instead all you saw was rage. Unbridled, violent rage.

"Choose your next words carefully." Spencer's voice was low, and as sharp as the edge of a blade. You almost didn't recognize him. The Biker leaned forward, fueled only by the knowledge that he was getting under Spencer's skin.

"She as tight as she looks? If I wasn't locked up, I'd fuck her so good she wouldn't even remember what your little pecker feels like."

Spencer's jaw clenches, and his fists curl tightly. The Biker is about 2 words away from a broken nose.

"Baby just let it go." You plead, and normally you don't really use pet names in public but right now you needed to show him that you're his.

"I'll tell you what Klein, I'll fuck her for you and tell you how it felt." The other man says, the man visiting. Upon hearing the words come out of his mouth, Spencer is shoving up from the chair but almost instantly a guard is tightly gripping Spencer's shirt and shoving him back into the chair. Spencer is fuming, and there's nothing you can do to calm him down.

"If you so much as lay a finger on her, your friend here will be dead before you can have another visit." Spencer hisses, and the two large men chuckle.

Spencer instantly took you off the visitors list, and while that felt like a blow to your heart you understood why. You didn't want to stress him out by visiting him.

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So, yeah, Spencer knew you were out of his league and when Luke pulled your chair out for you at the table before he had the chance to, it made his blood boil. Why is Luke trying to take care of you? Doesn't he know that Spencer has been released from Prison? You don't need anybody else to take care of you, your husband is more than capable of doing it himself. When Spencer sat down in the chair next to you, he rested one hand on your thigh. You're only slightly surprised, normally Spencer isn't this 'handsy' in public, but in recent weeks he's been more assertive around other men.

"The body of 23 year old Cassandra Richardson was found 2 weeks ago in Lincoln, Nebraska. Her body was mutilated and showed signs of sexual assault. Yesterday another body, 20 year old Francesca Williams was found around the same warehouse district with similar wounds to the first victim." Penelope rushes the words out, almost as though saying them pains her. Various images show on the screen of the two victims, both bloodied and battered.

"Other than similar injuries, what makes the local police think it's the same unsub?" Luke asks, his eyes flickering towards you for the briefest second. While Spencer was locked away, Luke became a shoulder to cry on. Normally when you were upset and Spencer wasn't around, you'd talk to Derek. But since he's been gone you've felt more isolated then you normally do. Luke had found you crying one morning before you had taken off, and ever since he's had an "older brother" protection over you.

"A tattoo on both of the victims thighs, the words 'temerata virginem' which is Latin for 'desecrated virgin'." With the click of a button on her remote, Penelope pulls up a photo of the tattoos. The lines are shaky, although they stay mostly straight.

"It almost looks professional, except the lines aren't perfectly straight. A professional would make the line work perfect." JJ says, examining the photo closer in the folder each of you received. You turn your gaze to Spencer when you feel his hand leave your thigh to examine the photo closer. You could practically see the gears turning in that beautiful mind of his.

"It's possible an outside source is causing a tremble in the unsubs hands, if he is a professional tattoo artist." Spencer mumbles, almost to himself. Sometimes when he's in deep concentration, he nearly forgets other people are in the room with him.

"Could be drugs-" Luke starts but is sharply cut off.

"Actually it's more likely to be alcohol, withdraw from other drugs would be too severe to operate the tattoo machine." Spencer snaps, causing a few heads to turn and look at him. Maybe under other circumstances someone would say something to him, but since Spencer got released from Prison only a few weeks ago, nobody says anything. Luke's eyebrows furrow together as he shoots Spencer a confused look, one Spencer chooses to ignore as his hand returns to your thigh. Spencer knows he's acting like a jerk but he can't help it, Luke needs to know who you belong to. Spencer had everything taken from him in Prison, he won't let anyone take you from him too.

"We've been personally asked by the local police to assist, so wheels up in 30." Emily concludes, shooting one more look at Spencer before everybody rises.

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The tension on the jet is thick, you're absolutely sure everybody can feel it. Hardly anyone has interacted with Spencer, except to ask him a question about the case. You sit back against the couch, Luke sitting in one of the chairs at the table, and Spencer sitting on the arm of the chair next to you. In your hand was a nearly empty cup of coffee, and just as you move to refill, Luke rises with his own empty cup.

"Need a refill?" He asks, offering you a friendly smile.

"Yeah actually-"

"I got it." Spencer says abruptly, standing from where he was sitting. His eyes meet Luke's, silently challenging him. You try to be understanding, but you can't help but feel annoyed at Spencer. If he was acting like this to some random guy then that's one thing, but this is Luke. He's your friend, he's Spencer's friend. Luke, and the rest of the team, put everything on the line to free Spencer from Prison.

"It's cool man, I can do it-" Luke offers again, but Spencer isn't having it.

"I said I got it." Spencer reaches his hand out for your mug, which you instantly give to him. His eyes don't leave Luke's until he turns around and heads to the back of the jet to refill your coffee. Luke pauses for a few seconds, his eyes meeting yours and mirroring the same look of concern before he heads for the coffee pot as well. Luke isn't even upset by how Spencer is treating him, he- like everyone else, is worried about Spencer's psyche.

"What is going on with Spencer?" JJ whispers once she's sure Spencer is out of earshot. You shrug, your worried eyes landing on your husband. His posture is tense, almost defensive.

"Well can you blame him? In Prison, everything that's yours can and will be stolen by the other male inmates. Now that he's free, Spencer is being protective of his wife, someone that is his and can be taken by other men." Rossi says, always naturally a tad protective of Spencer.

"There isn't a man on this planet that would make me leave Spencer." You say defensively, although you know Rossi didn't mean anything by what he said.

"That might be obvious to you, but not to Spencer." JJ says, eyeing Spencer standing back near the coffee machine.

"Doing okay man?" Luke asks hesitantly as he moves to stand next to Spencer.

"Yep." Spencer says shortly, waiting for the pot to brew. Luke feels the tension rolling off Spencer in waves, and it's all being directed at him and he's not sure why.

"Look, if I've done something to upset you, just talk to me about it Reid." Luke's voice is gentle, understanding. Spencer's jaw clenches again as the pot finishes brewing and he refreshes your cup before reaching for the creamer.

"I'm fine Alvez. Really." Spencer says again, but Luke isn't willing to let this go yet.

"No Reid, you're not-"

"Stop flirting with my wife." Spencer's tone is firm, and the look in his eyes tells Luke just how on edge Spencer is.

"You got it." Luke agrees instantly, even though he was never flirting with you. But he knows that right now arguing with Spencer will only make things worse. Seemingly satisfied with Luke's answer, Spencer carries your cup back you, slinging an arm around you.

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Spencer twists his wedding ring around his ring finger, something he does when he's stressed out or tense. You're currently sat in the interrogation room with the male suspect, a tattoo artist attending AA meetings, the tattoo on the first victim was the shakiest because he had just quit drinking. The other, more recent, victims tattoo's were more steady. The longer he stayed sober, the more his trembling faded. In Spencer's other palm is your wedding ring, you fit the physical preference of this killer perfectly, but he only went after single women. Emily thought sending somebody in fitting his victimology would throw him off enough to say something incriminating. In order for the rouse to work, you needed to appear single- meaning the wedding ring had to come off. The thought didn't settle well in Spencer's gut.

"You have to relax." JJ said suddenly from Spencer's right. He nearly ignored her but his frayed nerves were beginning to eat at him.

"I can't. Do you see the way he's looking at her?" Spencer was pacing back and forth in front of the one way glass like a caged animal, unable to take his eyes off of the train wreck happening in front of him.

"She can handle herself Spence." JJ insists gently, almost using a motherly tone to talk to him.

"She's mine!" And suddenly the crux of the issue comes to light, and Spencer pinches the bridge of his nose, releasing a heavy breath. JJ thinks about her words carefully, trying to find something to say that will calm him at least a little.

"Yeah, and nothing is going to change that Spencer. You need to relax, and you have to trust her. You're not in Prison anymore, nobody is going to take her from you." JJ says, looking him in the eyes. Suddenly the sound of metal screeching across a concrete floor sounds from behind Spencer and when he turns around, his blood boils hot in his veins. The suspect, Alan Baker, has shoved out of his chair and has started towards you.

"Spencer-" JJ's voice is distant, and comes too late. Spencer isn't listening to her anymore when his fist curls around the door handle and he nearly rips it off its hinges.

"You need to step back." Spencer snaps, reaching for his gun as Alan Baker backs you into the corner of the interrogation room. You weren't ever truly afraid, you could have handled Alan. Slowly, Alan backs away from you and Spencer instantly reaches for you. He leads you out of the room with a gentle but firm hand on your back. Once you're out of the interrogation room you turn to Spencer.

"What the hell? I could have dealt with him!" You insist, frustration laced in your tone. At this point JJ silently slips out of the room, giving you and Spencer some much needed privacy. Spencer crosses his arms as he leans back against the one way mirror.

"You didn't need to, I did." Spencer huffs and you seriously resist the urge to throw something at him.

"What is your problem today? You could have compromised my entire interrogation, he's never going to tell me anything now!" You snap, anger pinching at your features.

"Good! Now you have no reason to talk to him again." Spencer snaps back, can't you see that he's just protecting what's his?

"Spencer we're trying to save somebody! You're being selfish!" You say to him angrily, trying your best not to start yelling at him. Spencer's selfish possessiveness over you could have just ruined your entire investigation.

"This is why the Bureau was hesitant to reinstate you. They were scared you wouldn't be able to control yourself." You snap at him, crossing your arms.

"Are you saying they made a mistake?" Spencer asks incrediously, suddenly becoming defensive.

"Maybe they did. Because you're acting like an asshole right now. You've been a jerk to Luke the entire day when he busted his ass to help get you out of Prison and back to me! Since when have you not trusted me during an interrogation? What did you think was going to happen? That I was going to let him touch me? I thought you trusted me." You cry out, tears filling your eyes now. Spencer didn't say anything as you turned for the door, anger still laced in his features.

"This has nothing to do with me not trusting you-"

"If you don't trust me, then maybe you should just hold onto my wedding ring for a while. I don't want it." You snap quietly, and you regret the words the second they leave your lips. No matter how mad he makes you, you'd never leave Spencer. You watch Spencer's expression shift from anger to...hurt. He watches silently as you slam the door behind you. Prison has turned him into somebody he isn't, and Spencer doesn't know how to turn off this part of his brain. The part telling him that you belong to him, and that he needs to protect what's his.

Rossi catches the sight of your tear stained cheeks as you move back towards the kitchen in the precinct. You wipe your tears as he comes to stand beside you, and the look on his face tells you that he overheard your fight with Spencer. Rossi bumps you with his elbow gently, a small smile on his face.

"You don't look okay." He says softly and you let out a self-depreciating laugh.

"I'm not. I don't know how to help Spencer, he doesn't trust me." You say sadly, your heart breaking in your chest.

"It's not you he doesn't trust, it's other men." Rossi clarifies, although it does little to ease the pain. You reach up to brush your hair behind your ear when Rossi catches your hand, examining your ring finger.

"Where's your wedding ring?"

"Told Spencer I didn't want it." The words are laced with heavy regret, and when you remember the look on his face when you said it you almost start to cry again. Rossi wraps an arm around you, and you lean your head on his shoulder.

"Deep down, he knows you didn't mean it." He tries to reassure you.

"That's the problem, he probably thinks I meant it."

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Normally it only takes you and Spencer a few hours to smooth things over after a fight. But this time, it's been nearly 3 hours and you haven't spoken a word to each other. You're both working on searching through Alan Baker's financial records without speaking at all. Neither of you have said anything, and Spencer still has your wedding ring. You desperately want it back, but you don't know how to start that conversation. You're angry about how he's been treating everybody, and you feel like asking for your ring is accepting defeat. You're not ready to accept defeat. When Emily comes into the room, her eyes settle on the two of you.

"Okay, what's going on with you guys?" Her arms are crossed.

"Nothing." The word comes from both yours and Spencer's mouths at the same time, and you say it far too quickly. Emily raises one brow at the two of you before closing the door behind her.

"Alright I'm going to have to be a boss now. We are not going to lock this guy away if the two of you are fighting. We need everybody on their A-game. Fix it. Now, and I mean right now." She says, leaving the room but closing the door behind her. There's a suffocating silence that fills the room, both you and Spencer too stubborn to speak first. But you can't take it, you hate it when he's mad at you. You hate it when you guys fight, which isn't often but it does happen occasionally.

"I didn't mean it." You whisper, leaning on the table, facing away from him. Spencer doesn't say anything but you know he's listening.

"I didn't mean it Spencer, I want my ring." He'd be lying if he said he wasn't relieved to hear you say that, his entire world crashed down around him the second you told him to keep the ring. The irrational part of his brain told him you were going to divorce him.

"Can I please have it back?" You ask, barely turning your head to look at him. With a huff Spencer pushes away from the table to move in front of you. His eyes are focused on your hand, he has yet to look at you. Spencer fishes around in his pocket before he finds your ring and gently slides it onto your ring finger.

"You have to stop glaring at any man that gets to close to me, especially Luke." You tell him, but he continues to look away from you. Spencer pushes past you to stand near the windows, his back facing you. The thing about Spencer is that he's stubborn, really stubborn. You take a few steps towards him, nibbling on your lower lip.

"I love you Spencer, I'm sorry. I was an ass, but you acted like an ass too." You tell him, but Spencer only turns his head further away from you. You move to stand in front of him, but his eyes turn to the ground and his arms are crossed tightly. Seriously?

"Please talk to me Spencer, tell me what's going on." You can see the frustration laced in his features, there's something on the tip of his tongue that he needs to say.

"Spencer."

"After you left from your visit, do you know why I didn't let you come back?" Spencer snaps, his hands finding your shoulders to yank your body against his. Your chest collides with his and suddenly you feel a dampness building between your legs. You instantly turn to putty in his hands.

"I didn't let you come back because that asshole told everybody about you. Told everybody what a tight little body you have. Soon the entire cell block was fantasizing about my 'sexy wife'. Do you have any idea what it's like to listen to men constantly talk about fucking your wife?" Spencer's voice is tense, but you can see it. The lust building behind his eyes, the frustration, and the fear of losing you simmering underneath it all.

"N-No." Your voice is breathy, and your eyes are lidded as Spencer's hands slide up your arms to your shoulders.

"It's fucking hell Y/N. Every time I see any man look at you I want to rip his eyes out, and I can't turn it off. I've tried, and the way that Alvez looks at you- it drives me fucking crazy." Spencer snaps, the anger building by the second. Your entire body begins to hum with an intense need, and Spencer can see it in your eyes. Spencer releases you then and he turns for the door, at first you're afraid he's going to leave but instead he locks the door. Luckily it's late, so the police station is more deserted then it is during the day. Turning back to you, Spencer reaches for the blinds next and you can't help but follow his every movement with your eyes.

"Get on your knees." Spencer says suddenly, and you freeze in shock. Did he just say...?

"Get. On. Your. Knees." Spencer says again through clenched teeth, leaning back against the table, heat simmering in his eyes. His hands grip the edge of the table and you feel a throb from between your legs. Quickly you scramble onto your knees in front of him, your hands reaching up to undo his belt. Once the belt is unfastened, you're quickly unbuttoning his dress slacks, your eagerness making your hands a bit clumsy. Spencer has never been this dominant during sex, but you have no complaints. He has your knees weak and he hasn't even touched you. You quickly dip your hand into his boxers to pull his hardening cock out. As soon as his cock is freed, your lips are wrapping around the head. Spencer's head tosses back in ecstasy.

"Your lips look so pretty stretched around my cock. Those bastards could only imagine having you on your knees for them." Spencer snaps, his hand weaving into the hair at the back of your head. You moan softly around him at his crude words, slowly sliding down his cock. Spencer groans when he feels your tongue laving the underside of his cock, along the vein that runs from base to tip. Apparently feeling impatient, Spencer pushes your head further down his cock. He feels his tip right at the entrance of your throat, and with one gentle thrust he breaches your throat and his cock slides all the way into your mouth.

"Fuck," Spencer hisses, and Spencer does not curse often. So the fact that you have been able to draw curses from his mouth is nothing short of a miracle. Spencer's chest heaves slightly as you gag lightly around him, drawing another deep groan from his chest. You feel nearly desperate to please him, you need to make him cum. You want him to fucking pound you, you want him to use your body for his pleasure. You want him to release all of his frustration out on you, you want to be sore when he's done.

"You're mine. This is my body to touch and admire, my tight pussy to stretch open, mine." Spencer growls, thrusting gently to meet your hasty movements. You whimper around his cock, gagging slightly again as spit dribbles down your chin. Your eyes are wide and watery as you look up at him, and the sight of you nearly causes him to blow his load. You just look so fucking beautiful on your knees in front of him, drool on your chin and your mouth full of cock. It's a sight he will never forget. You move your head faster, keeping your eyes locked on his. Spencer squeezes the edge of the table, his head tossing back when his orgasm hits him. You feel his cum shooting in spurts to the back of your throat and you swallow every drop. Once you pull off him, Spencer is grabbing your elbows to pull you to stand.

Spencer's hands are reaching for the button of your dress slacks as his mouth presses messily to yours. Spencer's tongue pushes into your mouth, his hands pushing your pants down and you kick them off. Instantly, Spencer's fingers are sliding into your panties and through your slick folds. You whine loudly against his mouth, your eyes fluttering shut as his palm roughly cradles the back of your head.

"Need to make sure you know who you belong to." Spencer snaps as he pulls away from you, quickly pushing two long fingers into your dripping hole. You cry out before Spencer is slapping a hand over your mouth, your back pressed against the wall. Spencer's slender frame is leaning against you, effectively trapping you against the wall and his body. Your eyes are rolling when Spencer's finger crook inside of you while roughly thrusting into you.

"Gotta be quiet, wouldn't want Luke to catch us now would we?" Spencer breathes in the shell of your ear, sending goosebumps spreading over your skin. You are completely at Spencer's mercy and you wouldn't have it any other way. The pleasure shooting through you goes rocketing up your spine when Spencer scissors his fingers inside of you. You're mumbling incoherently against his palm, desperate pleas not to stop, to please let you cum. Your entire body is flushed, and you feel sweat on your skin like a sheen layer over you. Spencer feels you begin to squeeze around his fingers and he replaces his palm with his mouth, swallowing all of your moans and desperate cries.

Your back is arching as your high approaches, and you climb higher and higher to meet it. Spencer never lets up, his fingers steadily pumping into you and his lips muffling all of your cries of pleasure. The sounds you make are music to his ears, they tell him that you will always be his, no matter what childish fears he has. Your hands come up to unbutton the buttons on Spencer's dress shirt, you need to feel more of him. Before you can finish undressing your husband, his fingers nudge your cervix and you instantly clamp around his fingers, your body convulsing.

"You look so beautiful when you cum." Spencer praises, his cock rock hard again. He needs to be inside of you as soon as humanely possible. Spencer pulls away from you to grasp the base of his cock, no need to bother with protection. The two of you already agreed that you want to try for a baby anyway.

"Please baby, please get inside me. How could you think I'd ever leave you? I love you, and nobody could make me cum like you can." You moan desperately, turning to bend over the table. Spencer's hand runs up your spine, enjoying the way you wriggle your hips in search of his cock. There are butterflies squirming in your stomach as you spread your legs apart wider for him, but he still doesn't bring his cock closer to you.

"Oh c'mon Spence don't do this please. Baby, fuck me." You plead, nearly sobbing as you shamlessly beg. He presses his tip against your soaked entrance and you whine. You hear fabric rustling around and you turn your head just in time to see him pull his tie from around his neck.

"I needed to hear you beg for me, and this is to keep you quiet. As much as I love the sounds you make when I'm inside you, I can't let anyone else hear you." Spencer says, his voice low and rumbling from his chest. You open your mouth to let him tie the silk fabric in your mouth. You try to whimper but you gag around the tie in your mouth, and you see a pleased smile cross onto Spencer's face. Your fingers grasp at the edge of the table as you impatiently wait for Spencer to push into you. You feel his glorious cock nestled at your entrance, the tip barely nudging in. You feel another wave of slick gush out of you and Spencer is running his tip through your already drenched folds. Such a tease.

You whine softly, trying to push back against him. Spencer chuckles darkly before his hands grasp your hips to hold you steady. With one firm thrust, Spencer is breaching your folds and sliding deep inside you. You feel heat searing through you, your head dropping to the table as you whimper through the burn. The stretch burns more then you anticipated, and you hear Spencer groaning softly, which sends another wave of liquid heat rushing through you.

"God you feel so good baby, you take my cock so fucking well." Spencer praises, gently pulling out to slowly thrust back in. His eyes are locked on the place where you two connect, watching with hooded eyes as his cock disappears inside you.

"I wish you could see this baby, I love watching you take my cock." He praises through a soft moan, and you drink up every sound he makes. Spencer needed this so bad and you love the fact that you can give him a type of relief nobody else on the planet can give him. Spencer steadily thrusts into you when you both hear footsteps slowly passing outside the room. You expect Spencer to stop, to pull out of you and start redressing but he doesn't. He slows his pace considerably, but he still slowly thrusts into you.

"Shh, I would hate for whoever that is to see my cock buried in your pretty pussy." Spencer whispers as he leans forward to whisper in your ear. You struggle to contain the whimpers, but somehow you remain completely silent as Spencer gently thrusts into you. Once whoever it is passes by, Spencer resumes his quicker thrusts. His pelvis hits your ass with enough force to send you lurching across the table and your fingers scramble to find purchase against the smooth surface.

"This is my pussy, you're my wife, you're mine. Not Luke's, not that dick from the Prison. Mine." Spencer says, punctuating the words with a sharp thrust into you. You wished you could answer him, that you could cry to the heavens that you belong to Spencer Reid- that you never want to belong to anybody else. You settle for squeezing his cock whenever it returns to your velvety warmth, chanting the same word in your head over and over.

Yours yours yours yours yours.

Your forehead presses against the table, muffled and strangled cries escaping your lips every time Spencer hits deep inside you. His cock stretches you perfectly, and always hits places deep inside you. Places you didn't know existed. Soon you feel your orgasm creeping up on you, and you feel lightheaded so you reach up to yank the tie away from your mouth.

"Please make me cum Spence, I'm so close baby please don't stop." You beg, muffling your moans with your palm as he drives his cock into you. You feel sweat covering your entire body and Spencer holds your hips with a bruising force. You feel that coil winding tighter and tighter, and you release a high pitched whine when Spencer's hand snakes around your body to thumb your clit.

"Oh Spencer your cock feels so good, soo good baby. Always feels so good, fuck baby I love you," You're not sure what you're saying at this point, an incoherent mess of praises for the man above you. Spencer loves when he reduces you to this, speaking in a jumble of words and disconnected statements because you can't think with his cock inside you.

"I, shit, I love you-" Spencer gasps, slamming his cock inside you and rolling your clit before you're squeezing around him tightly, your mouth falling open in a silent scream. You cum in hot gushes around him and Spencer can only offer a few more stuttering thrusts before he's cumming with a loud growl, coating your walls in his hot cum. Spencer keeps his cock inside you, ensuring his cum stays inside you. He wants to get you pregnant. His palms gently hold your hips, and all the frustration he's felt all day has completely disappeared. His chest is heaving from the exertion but he feels more relaxed then he has all day. There's a smile on your face and your eyes are closed as your legs finally give out and you collapse against the table.

"You okay?" You hear Spencer's voice, and you can't help but smile when you hear that he's panting slightly. You hum with a smile on your face.

"I'm amazing." You mumble back, feeling Spencer begin to gently massage your back. You love enjoying the afterglow with him, even if you're laying on a table. Slowly Spencer pulls out, but he groans softly when he sees his cum inside your pussy. He reaches to the floor to pull your panties and dress slacks back up your legs and he quickly tucks himself back into his pants. He buttons the 4 buttons you managed to open on his shirt before he's gently pulling you to stand.

"You sure you're alright?" Spencer asks, concern in his eyes. You nod with a smile, but when he releases his hold on your shoulders, you feel your legs tremble and give out underneath you. Spencer immediately catches you and sets you down on the table. You laugh softly.

"Guess you fucked me good."

"Sorry." Spencer says sheepishly, but you press a chaste kiss to his lips.

"Don't be, that had to have been the best sex we've had in a long time." You mumble against his lips and Spencer hums in agreement. Reaching for his tie, Spencer shoves it in his pocket before he pokes his head out of the room you guys just defiled.

"Spencer, I'm so sorry about what I said. I love you so much, I didn't mean what I said about my ring-" You blubber suddenly, drawing Spencer's attention to you. He cradles your head against his chest, pressing kisses to your forehead.

"I know baby, it's okay. I love you." Spencer answers quietly, holding you to him tightly.

"I'm sorry I was a jerk today. I'm just so protective of you. I can't let anything steal you from me." Spencer admits softly and you cup his cheeks to make him look at you. There is a sadness in his eyes that you want to obliterate, you can't stand it when he's sad. It breaks your heart.

"Nothing could steal me from you. I only want you Spencer." You say quietly and you see tears misting his eyes. He presses his lips desperately against yours, and you feel tears cascading down yours and his cheeks. The kiss is wet, but it's passionate and you throw every ounce of love you have for this man into it. When you and Spencer part, your foreheads are pressed together.

"Hey Spence? How am I gonna get to the hotel. I can't walk." You say softly with a giggle and Spencer smiles mischievously.

"I guess I'll have to carry you." He scoops you bridal style into his arms then and you blush deeply when he carries you out of the room and towards the front entrance.

"Spencer! Everybody is going to know!" You whisper into his ear and he chuckles.

"Good."

[boldlyvoid]

when the moon fell in love with the sun

Aaron Hotchner x Penelope Garcia

summary: Penelope calls Hotch for help after her, now ex-boyfriend, lays a hand on her.

warnings: angst with a happy ending. emotional and physical abuse, toxic relationships, domestic abuse, mutual pining, love confessions, first kiss

word count: 1k

She’s sitting on the front porch of her apartment with her bags in hand, staring off at the road and waiting for Hotch to pick her up. She felt so stupid, she couldn’t believe she let something like this happen to her, and she’s even more upset that she had to call him at 11 pm and tell him about it.

She thought Josh was a good dude, even Derek met him and agreed.

It started slowly, with small comments about what she was eating and saying she worked too late. Checking her phone to see her messages, saying no one would love her like he can when she thought about leaving him. Then today, today he laid a hand on her.

And today was the first time she ever hit someone back. Punching him in the face, she remembers saying “my family is the FBI, that’s 7 guns and 14 fists at the ready at all times. Do you really want to fuck with that?”

He called her a psycho bitch on the way out, leaving her with her shame and a bruised eye, slowly blackening over time as she waited for her boss to rescue her. He was the safe choice, Derek and Emily would kill Josh if she told them, Spencer and JJ would tell her to go to the cops, but Aaron… He would give her a hug and do what she needed. So that's who she called.

He comes to a blaring halt, throwing the door open and rushing to her, “Penelope?”

“It’s okay,” she stands, waving him off. “It’s fine. I’m overreacting.”

“No, no,” he wraps her up in a hug, holding her close, and that’s when she finally breaks down. “Why are you out here, you should be getting comfortable?”

“I can’t be in there,” she admits as she works through the tears. “I need to get out of here.”

“Okay,” he breaks the hug and holds her by her shoulders, “thank you for calling me, where would you like me to take you?”

“I feel so stupid, I just want to go where no one can find me,” she explains, “how did I let this happen?”

“It wasn’t your fault, it’s never your fault. He was a weak man and if I ever see him I’ll fucking kill him,” Aaron gets angrier than he’s ever been before.

He cups her face with his hands, brushing his thumb over the bruising and letting out a defeated sigh, “you are everything to me, to the team, to your family. Whatever he told you, whatever he did to make you believe that you deserved what he did, is a lie.”

“but—“

“No,” he stops her. “He wanted to control you because he knew you were too good for him, he needed a way to keep you and the only way to do that was to belittle you until you didn’t think you deserved better. But that’s a lie. You deserve everything, Penelope Garcia. You are the sun, you shine so bright and you make everything better, you make me better.”

She cries harder, pulling him back in for another hug, “oh, Aaron. If I’m the sun, you’re the moon.”

He laughs, crying only slightly, “if you say so.”

“Not to go all boy wonder on you, but the moon wouldn’t shine without the sun… we’re a good team, together we make the darkness bearable, so thank you,” she explains carefully. “I really appreciate you.”

“I love you,” he admits. “I have loved you for a very long time.”

It’s such a shock to her that she just laughs and steps back, “no you don’t? You can’t… what the fuck?” It all hits her, she feels her breathing pick up as she shakes her head. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugs, “I was married, then you were with Kevin, I always thought Morgan was more your type and that I pissed you off secretly… I kept it a secret just to keep you on the team.”

“I had such a crush on you when I started,” she chuckles to herself. “I am genuinely so shocked… Aaron Hotchner you are my personal night in shining armour, of course, I love you too.”

He brushes her hair behind her ear, resting his hand at the nape of her neck as he ran his thumb along her jaw, “can I kiss you?”

She nods, smiling softly, “I’d be pissed if you didn’t.”

The kiss is short, they both smile too much for it to be more than a peck, resting their foreheads together as they giggle, “let’s get out of here.”

“Hold on,” she pulls him in for another kiss, longer and deeper this time. She breathes him in, pressing her chest against his, and her foot involuntarily pops, like Mia’s in The Princess Diaries.

It’s the best kiss she’s ever had, hopefully, it wouldn’t be their last.

He pulls away slowly, opening their eyes again at the same time and staring fondly into each other. Aaron laughs slightly, “I think I love you more now.”

“Good,” she smiles back, “that’s what I was hoping for.”

He grabs her bags then, walks her back to his SUV and puts them in the back. He helps her into the passenger seat, and as soon as he gets in and starts the car he turns to her, “where should we go?”

“I’m sure Jacks at your apartment…”

“He is,” he nods, “with Jessica. She knows I might not be home tonight, do you want to get a hotel?”

“That would be nice,” she smiles. “Can we stop at the store first? I need some comfort food, we can watch movies all night together?”

“Sounds good,” he takes off down the road, taking her to the closest grocery store in silence.

Watching the road carefully as she watches him, she reaches her hand over the middle console and holds his hand, “thank you.”

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

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[letarasstuff]

One kind of intern

(A/N): This was requested by @greenslifestuff :) It took me a week or two because I had to interact with my friends in order to get the inspiration I needed 😅 Summary: The team gets to work with a gen z teenager. Let’s see how that goes.

Warnings: Swearing and gen z humour

Wordcount: 2k

✨Masterlist✨

___________________________________

“Team, this is (Y/N) (L/N). She will be interning for the upcoming three months alongside this team. (Y/N), these are Agents Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi, Derek Morgan and Doctor Spencer Reid and our Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia”, Hotch introduces a teenage girl to his team like this happens every day.

“Wait Hotch, we don’t get interns. What is she going to do, no offense, but getting us coffee or what?” Morgan eyes her suspiciously. She looks like any teenager grabbed from the street. A band t-shirt, a torn pair of jeans and a cup from starbucks in her hands. Nothing you would expect to even enter a federal building.

“No offence taken, Agent Morgan. I know having an ugly pickly bitch working with professionals seems weird. It’s just I have summer break and I thought it would be a good thing on my resumé if I already interned in the FBI, because I just graduated and I wanted to go to the academy this fall. But if you wanna do a vibe check with me first, that’s fine by me. Whatever floats your boat.”

The room falls silent. Then out of all sudden everyone turns to Garcia, who puts her arms up in defense. “I don’t even know half the things she said, ask her yourself.”

That’s how the BAU gets their first contact with Gen Z culture and let me tell you it is a wild ride, so buckle up your seats, drink your tea up because we aren’t going to make any stops.

“(Y/N), I need you to come with me. We are going to the M.E. getting the latest reports from our last case”, Morgan tells her while passing her desk. In the blink of an eye the teenager is ready, putting her denim jacket with various pins and bits of patches on.

“Derek, can we get starbucks on the way back? The pumpkin spiced latte is back on their menu and I am on withdrawal. Pleaaaaaasseeee”, she looks at him with a pouty face. Morgan smiles. “Ok, under one condition: We both get one, take awesome pictures and send them to the group chat and then we act like we didn’t get them anything, but we actually buy them their usual.” He got the hang of it pretty fast. “Deal, Sis.”

While they are in the car on their way to the M.E. the agent groans. “Ugh, road work ahead.” “Uh yeah, I sure hope it does!” Morgan eyes her from the side. His whole demeanor says ‘old and confused’.

“What was that, kid?” But (Y/N) begins to laugh. “Don’t you know vines? Short dumb and funny clips people made?” It’s safe to say that this afternoon he learns to speak in vines, getting on Rossi’s nerves because nothing makes sense anymore.

“Ok, I heard you wanted to become a profiler. So I thought I would show you some old cases and then you try to figure out the profile. I’ll present them to you like I do to the team, alright?” JJ and (Y/N) sit in her office, safe from curious eyes. “As right as the law, Ma’am.” 

“Good, this is a case from several years ago. It happened here in D.C. Three men were murdered execution style in the middle of the night in an alleyway. They were all from different backgrounds. The only connection between them was that they were evicted for some form of sexual harassment or assault. The UnSub also had a signature: A shot into their groin while the men were alive.”

Unfaced by the presented facts (Y/N) pops a piece of gum into her mouth. “It do be like that.”

“What?” “I mean, it’s obviously a woman. She experienced any harassment or assault herself. She also has excess to the files, I assume she works as a paralegal, since most of them are women. Female serial killers are extremely rare, but they are better organized. The only thing left to say is good for her getting revenge.” The blonde looks at the teenager with wide eyes.

“I-I guess but you know you can’t say anything like that to Hotch, do you?” She asks concerned. “JJ, I’m dead inside, not dumb. I know this.” But the agent shrugs. “Good. Though I really want to see his face.” “Mood.”

Penelope Garcia is the closest one to relate to Gen Z culture, since a great part of her time is spent on the internet. She happily learns about all the phrases and their meanings as well as the newest trends and hypes.

“Purp is sus, I tell you”, is heard from the lair into the hallway. Spencer and Derek look at each other with concern on their faces. “Do you think they are alright or do we have to-” “IT’S A SELF REPORT I SWEAR PENNY! YOU WORK WITH PROFILERS IN GANDALF’S NAME!” Spencer’s question is answered by that.

“Baby girl, crazy girl, are you doing good? Do you need help or something?” The older one asks warily. But it’s drowned in another screaming match. “I TOLD YOU PURP WAS THE IMPOSTER BUT YOU HAVE TO TELL THEM I VENTED WHEN I DIDN’T! I WANT ALL TIKTOKS I SENT YOU BACK!” “YOU DON’T DARE TO REVOKE MY TIKTOK PRIVILEGES!” “WATCH ME GARCIA!”

“Whoa girls, what about taking a break?” Morgan tries to diffuse the situation. “Yes, I think JJ got new pictures of Henry and Emily brought cookies this morning”, Spencer adds.

The girls, who mere seconds ago were ready to jump each other's throats, look at the other one. “You get the cookies and I go to JJ, deal?” (Y/N) asks. “Deal!” Without sparing the boys another glance they run out of the lair. Their devices are still lit up. A red figure shines into their faces. ‘AMONG US’ is written underneath it. “I think we get too old for this stuff, don’t we Reid?”

Spencer always thought he was young. Of course, his mind is older, but physically he is not that old. But the intern proves him wrong. And boy is he wrong.

“Spencer, is there anything interesting to know today?” (Y/N) takes a seat on his desk, distracting the genius from his paperwork. It is a common occurrence for her to go to him to ask for a fun fact.

“Do you wanna learn something about sloths?” His knowledge (or the writer’s) on this subject is astonishingly big.

“Spill the tea, sis.” “Did you kn- What? But I don’t have tea to spill. And I don’t wanna spill anything, I-” Reid rambles in confusion.

“It’s just a saying, Spencer. There is no deeper meaning to it then ‘Tell me everything about it’. You know, it’s mostly used for gossiping, but I don’t really like to gossip. That’s why I use it in a different context. You got it?” (Y/N) explains it to him in a soft manner, knowing her generation can be complex.

“Yeah, I think I do. Thank you for telling me. I really like the phrase. It has a nice ring. What about you spill the tea about all the phrases you know and I tell you some things from my knowledge?” “I think you got yourself a teacher, genius. But now tell me about the sloths, I love them.”

A few days later Rossi catches her doing some weird moves. “Are you having a seizure or what is your problem, youngster?” Even though he tries not to show it, David took a great liking to (Y/N), thinking of her like a granddaughter. Still, most of her actions confuse the hell out of him.

“I’m practising a dance for tiktok. My friends and I worked on a choreo we wanted to film later. Come here, I can show you.” And that’s what she does in the conference room. The teenager walks him through every move of the choreo, explaining the meaning to it and how it correlates with the song.

“And then you move your arm like that. Exactly like that! You did a great job, David! Are you sure you don’t want to come with me later? We can make you your own account and name it ‘Grandpa-on-tiktok’. You can promote your books over there and it’s a way to float with the trend!”

Seeing her this excited Rossi can’t do anything but agree to the idea. Also, he secretly liked doing the dance thing. It made him feel young again.

“(Y/N), you said you graduated this summer. But your file said you are 16?” Emily asks her one boring day filled with paperwork and countless cups of coffee. “It is what it is”, she mindlessly answers, too focused on filling out the work in front of her.

“I mean yes but how?”

“Emily, smart people exist. I know, coming from me hits different, but here we are.” Finally (Y/N) puts her pen away looking at the raven haired woman.

“What are you talking about? I can’t really follow you.” The more the intern says the more confused gets Emily.

She sighs. “I don’t want to leave you on read here. I kind of am smart somehow. Apparently I was smart enough to skip a grade or two. But it’s no biggie. Many peeps do this, so I don’t sweat it.”

“Even though I feel like you are selling yourself short here, I know you are an incredibly intelligent person. Someday you will be an awesome profiler and any team will be lucky to have you. I really hope we will be the lucky team. But I’m still not sure if this is what I should say in this context.”

“Emily, you are goals. This fam is squad goals. I really hope to be a part of this someday”, (Y/N) admits. “I’m sure Hotch will do his best to get you on the team, you became a great part of it. I can’t imagine a future without you.”

Sadly Prentiss has to get used to a time without the team’s beloved intern. On her last day (Y/N) knocks at Hotch’s door.

“Hey, I wanted to say thank you. The time with you and all the others was amazing and I learned so many useful things for not only the academy but also for my daily life. I really had a glow-up here”, she says after coming in.

Hotch motions towards the chairs in front of his desk. “Take a seat, (Y/N). I got something for you. See it as a compensation for not getting paid for your internship. You really did great work and a better job than some agents, who are doing theirs for many years already but don’t know half the stuff you do. You are a valuable member to the team.”

“Wait, you speak in presence tense. I leave you all this afternoon, you know that, do you?” But the Unit Chief only gestures to a white envelope on his desk. Quickly the teenager takes it and reads it.

“Are you serious Hotchner? Because I will cry you a river if you joke”, she threatens him.

“I’m dead serious, (Y/N). Even though half of your talks are difficult to understand, the other half is twice as useful and important. Additionally to that, you are like a fresh breath of air that the team needed. That’s why a place here will be available for you as soon as you graduate from the academy. I trust you that you will pass with flying colors, I had to promise that to Strauss.”

“Of course, Hotch. I swear on my Animal Crossing Island that I will do my best and more. Thank you so much”, she leaps into his arms.

The others watch the interaction from the bullpen, pretending to not get teary eyed. Their favorite Gen Z Kid will come back to them after all.

Taglist:

Spencer Reid

@calm-and-doctor

[a-simple-gaywitch]

“I’m SO Fired”

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Spencer falls in love with Dave Rossi’s adopted daughter

Word Count: 2038

Warnings: canon-typical violence, mentions of brutal case, mentions of death of parents, that’s it. it’s mostly fluff

“Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.” -Anton Chekhov

~

Spencer was leaning over Emily’s desk, helping her with some details of her paperwork. He glanced up and noticed a beautiful woman briefly talking to Anderson before entering through the glass doors. 

“Reid. Reid!” Emily said, snapping her fingers to get his attention. 

“What? Oh, sorry.”

Emily shook her head. “And just like that, 187 gets slashed to 60.”

The woman walked over to the desk with the two. “Uh, hi,” you said. “Is Dave Rossi here?”

“Oh, um, he should be here. Did you- do you have a meeting with him?” Spencer asked. 

“Kind of,” you said with a small laugh that made Spencer’s stomach flutter. “I’m-”

“(Y/N)!” Hotch said when he saw you. 

“Aaron!”

Emily and Spencer exchanged glances as you gave Aaron a brief hug. 

“Are you here to see your dad?” he asked you. 

“Yeah, is he here?”

“He should be in his office. How long are you in town?”

“Just the weekend,” you said. “But I’m coming back in June for vacation.”

“Well, I’ll let you go see your dad,” Hotch said. As you walked up the stairs, he turned to see Spencer gawking at you. Emily looked at Hotch apologetically. Hotch sighed and said, “Reid, focus on your paperwork, not (Y/N) Rossi.”

~

You knocked on the office door, waiting to hear your father’s voice. 

“Come in!” You pushed open the door and your adoptive father’s face lit up. “Tesorina!” he said, getting up to kiss your cheeks. “I was wondering when you were getting in. How’s work? And what about that boyfriend of yours? Anything-”

“Dad,” you said, cutting him off. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know at dinner. But you promised you’d introduce me to your team the next time I was in town.”

“I did promise that, didn’t I?” he said, pushing up from his desk. He slung his arm around your shoulder and steered you out of his office. The team was gathered in the bullpen, and they all turned to face Rossi when he cleared his throat. “Guys, this is my daughter, (Y/N).” He then introduced each team member to you, save for Aaron.

“Wow, Rossi, I didn’t know you even had a daughter,” Morgan said. 

“Gee, Dad, you don’t talk about me to your coworkers? I’m hurt,” you said, pressing your hand over your heart. 

Rossi rolled his eyes. “Drama queen.”

“So, you’re a Rossi?” Emily asked you. 

“Not biologically. Dave adopted me when I was five,” you explained.

“Initially, I was just fostering her for a little while, but I fell in love with this little rascal,” he said, ruffling your hair.

You set about fixing your hair. “Well, I gotta run. See you at the house for dinner?”

“Yeah, I should be done around 6. Don’t get into trouble.”

“Me, get into trouble? When have I ever been known to do that?” You shot a wink at the man you now knew to be Dr. Reid before leaving the BAU.

Spencer’s cheeks turned pink and he felt Rossi’s eyes on him. He looked down at his desk, busying himself with organizing his pen cup. When he heard Rossi’s office door close, he let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. 

Derek rolled his chair over to Spencer’s desk. “You’re looking a little flushed there, Pretty Boy. That wouldn’t have anything to do with Ms. Rossi, would it?”

“Shut up, Morgan,” he muttered, focusing on folding a small piece of paper on his desk into even smaller squares.

~

Dave walked into his house (mansion) to the smell of garlic bread and tomato sauce. He smiled and set his coat on the rack by the door. 

“You know, I would have cooked!” he called as he made his way to the kitchen. You were setting the table for the both of you. 

“Yes, but how often do you actually cook?” you asked him as you poured two glasses of red wine. “You’re always away on cases, I know how much fast food and takeout you eat. Now shut up and enjoy my carbonara.”

Dave chuckled and sat down at the table across from you. “So, how’s work going?” he asked you. 

You shrugged. “You know, there’s good days and bad days. We had a brother and his little sister get adopted together this week, which is always one of the big wins for us.”

He nodded. “What about that boyfriend of yours, Chad?”

“Oh, we broke up,” you said. “About a month ago.”

“Good, I didn’t really like him.”

“Dad, you say that about every guy I date.”

“And it’s true, I haven’t liked any of the guys you’ve dated.”

“Yeah, the only guys you’ve liked have been the ones you’ve tried to set me up with.”

“That’s not true!”

“Dad, remember Stephen?”

“I thought you would be a good match, honest. And before you say it, it’s not just because I’m overly protective.”

“So, we can admit you’re overprotective of me?” you said. 

“Of course I am. And can you blame me?”

“I guess not,” you said with a shrug. “And you could be worse. I could still be living here.”

“Oh, come on. Would that be so bad, having a huge house mostly to yourself?”

“Well, no, but I like living in Pennsylvania,” you said. “And I like having an apartment.” Your father gave you a skeptical look. “Stop profiling me.”

“Sorry, it’s hard to turn it off.” He took a sip of his wine. “You’re planning to go to the cemetery tomorrow, aren’t you?”

“I do every year, you know that.”

“Yeah. They’d be so proud of you, you know.”

You smiled down at your plate and pushed the pasta around. “I know. I, uh, I don’t have many memories of them anymore,” you said. “But the one I’ve been trying to get rid of is still there.”

Dave reached across the table and grabbed your hand. “Hey. Your parents loved you, so much. That’s all you need to remember, okay? They loved you so much that they sacrificed themselves for you.”

“Yeah.”

You lost your parents when you were five. There was a serial killer in the Greater DC Area, a family annihilator. He’d called himself the Orphan Maker. The man would seek out young families with kids no older than 8 and kill the parents first, in front of the children. Then he would kill the children. 

Rossi had been on that case, and had found that your family was the next target. Unfortunately, they did not get to your family before the man killed your parents. But fortunately, they caught him before he could get you. 

Rossi felt guilty they didn’t make it in time. When the law officers found that you didn’t have any family to take you in, Dave offered to bring you home. The plan was to originally just be a foster parent to you until CPS found a place for you to stay officially. But he fell in love with you. You were a little spitfire, a little troublemaker. Dave adopted you and dedicated the rest of his life to taking care of you and protecting you.

~

“Hey, Rossi!” Morgan said as he met the man in the kitchen to get coffee. “How was your weekend with (Y/N)?”

Rossi noticed Reid’s back straighten at the mention of (Y/N)’s name. He smiled to himself, a plan forming in his head. It was a bit of a convoluted plan, but it would work out for everyone in the end. 

“Oh, it was fine. She made me watch an episode of that show Reid and Garcia like.” He glanced over at Spencer’s desk and noticed he was listening intently. “I agreed since she’s still recovering from a recent breakup.”

“Is she okay?” Derek asked. “I know breakups can really suck.”

“She’ll be okay, she bounces back quick. I didn’t like the guy anyway. He was a meathead jock who thought being the high school quarterback was his entire personality. I want her to find a guy who’s smart and kind, someone I like.” He walked out of the kitchenette and passed Reid’s desk. He clapped his shoulder. “Morning, Reid.”

~

You were back in the area for a week-long vacation, and Dave had promised to go sight-seeing in DC with you. 

You walked into the bullpen and were greeted by Penelope, who had quickly become your friend. She wrapped you in a hug before Rossi made his way over to you. 

“Hey, Dad. You ready to go?” you asked after giving him a hug.

“Um, actually, I have to work late. But, you know, Dr. Reid here,” Spencer’s head snapped up from where he was packing his bag at the mention of his name, “knows more about the area than anyone I know. He can show you around. Right, Reid?”

Spencer looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure.”

You smiled at him and Spencer felt the butterflies that were already in his stomach go crazy. The two of you walked out of the office, Spencer nervously gripping the strap of his bag while you walked alongside him. 

Penelope looked at Rossi narrowing her eyes. “You don’t have to work late.”

Rossi smiled. “No.”

Penelope gasped. “You’re trying to set them up, aren’t you?”

“I will neither confirm nor deny,” Rossi said before walking back to his office. 

~

“So, Dr. Reid,” you said as the two of you walked out of the FBI building, “I heard you’re a huge Doctor Who fan.”

Spencer turned to look at you, losing his footing and tripping on the sidewalk. He straightened himself up and cleared his throat. “You, uh, you can call me Spencer. And yeah, I’m-I’m a fan.”

You smiled and Spencer thought the sun had come out again with the brightness you radiated. “Who’s your favorite? Personally, I’m a Tennent girl, but Baker is a close second.” Spencer was staring at you, his jaw dropped. “What?”

“You might be the hottest girl I’ve ever met.”

~

When Spencer woke up, the first thing he noticed was the beautiful woman asleep next to him, her head on his bare chest. He smiled and ran his hand through your hair as you started stirring.

“Morning,” he said as you looked up at him, resting her chin on his chest. 

“Morning, Pretty Boy.” You saw his smile falter and his eyes go wide. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m so fired,” he said. “I slept with my boss’s daughter. I’m so fired. No, I’m more than fired. I’m dead. Rossi is going to kill me.”

“Hey. Spence, breathe,” you said, cupping his face in your hands. “He’s not going to do anything to you. And if he tries, he’ll face my wrath.”

Spencer chuckled. “Well, after that guy drove through that puddle and splashed you last night, I believe it.” He was silent for a moment as the two of you sat up in the bed. Spencer wrapped his arms around you, pulling your back to his chest. “What are you going to tell him when you go home?”

You shrugged, leaning your head back. “The truth. I got to know a sweet guy last night and I stayed the night at his place.”

Spencer smiled and gave you a soft kiss.

~

You slipped into the Rossi Manor, feeling like a teenager missing curfew again. You got about halfway through the kitchen before hearing Dave clear his throat. You spun around to see him standing by the kitchen island with a cup of coffee. 

“Oh, uh, morning, Dad.”

“So, you were out all night.”

“Yep.”

“And you’re wearing the same clothes.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Who is he?” When you didn’t answer, he said, “Spencer?”

Your face paled. “How did-”

“You didn’t really think you could hide that from an old profiler, did you?” He handed you the mug. “Don’t worry, I approve. I’d be more than happy to have Spencer as a son.”

“Dad!”

~

“I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone.” - J.R.R. Tolkien 

[ohheyitsokay]

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this all takes place in my poly frontier universe

pairing: triple frontier guys - Will “Ironhead” Miller, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, Francisco (Frankie) “Catfish” Morales, and Ben “Benny” Miller x (f) reader

wordcount: 3k

warnings: obviously a poly relationship, which includes kissing, domestic intimacy with all of them (not just with the reader, but not in-between Will and Ben because nope), mild sexual themes

summary: scenes at the beginning of making a house with five people feel like home

<<

The manicured grass is soft where it peaked around the edges of your sandals. Hands running over the grooves of they key in your pocket, you gaze around the little front yard, mind conjuring daydreams that fit on the weathered porch of the house.

Two bathrooms will be enough right? Your thoughts are running - creating and erasing images of the future, trying to squish them like magic into the home in front of you. The yard is big enough to extend the garage and for plenty of home projects…

Across the fence and a long stretch of field, a woman is hiking her skirts up, making a beeline for you. The neighbor’s house is a considerable distance away, being out in the countryside, but she must have been watching your tour from her garden with interest.

The others had left moments before, Santi promising to come back whenever you were done. After weeks of looking at houses, it became a little ritual of yours, to spend a few minutes looking around without the clutter of wonderful distractions.

“So which one of those strapping young men is your beau?” She asks conspiringly, eyes gleaming. It catches you off guard – the lack of introduction, but she seems harmless enough.

Your smile is equally mischievous, and your head tilts a hair.

“Well, which one do you think?”

The woman considers, boot tip tapping away at her grass. You replay the moments she could’ve seen, which were few, wondering if you’d leaned in any particular direction, and wait.

“Now that I think about it, I haven’t got a clue,” her smile is wide, softer and more genuine than before - polite. “As long as you’re good neighbors,” she explains, “I guess I wouldn’t care if it was one or all of you next door.”

You smile, thanking her as salutations ring in your ears, watching with grateful eyes as she hikes back towards her home. Then you move, wandering through the empty rooms for long, quite minutes before you peak over the fence again. The woman had gone inside, and if you squint you can see who you think is her husband, sleeping with a dog on the porch.

In the other directions, there isn’t a house within a reasonable distance. A knot loosens in your chest, as an unexpected feeling of freedom from judging eyes blooms in its place.

When Santi comes back to pick you up, you take his hand across the console. His skin is warm, and his thumb automatically begins to gently move across your knuckles.

“I think it’s perfect, Pope.”

He looks at you curiously, minding his thoughts for a moment.

“Yeah, love?”

The sun was beginning to set, and you look at the peaceful little home in the rear view mirror, and smile.

“Yeah.”

-

“What?”

“We need to … break in every room.”

“I’m just saying -"

“Oh he’s talking about – wait are you really horny, right now?”

“There are boxes everywhere, idiot.”

You walk in carrying a single plant and a stack of pizzas and the conversation hushes.

“Ah – payment,” Frankie kisses your cheek, moving the plant by the window as Santi clears the table.

Someone makes a quip about it being Santi’s house and you wince, the utopia popping.

“We don’t get paid to move our own stuff, Catfish.” His dark hair is damp with sweat but he seems otherwise unaffected by the hours spent hauling. It was still surreal – that this is actually happening, that this unanimously became a long term desire.

He has the most money and Will has the best credit score, so they bought the house to save you all from questions. The movement isn’t lost on your Ironhead, and he rubs a soothing circle on your shoulder as he reaches for a plate. Of everyone, he was the one who most understood your anxiety – close proximity always led to arguments at first.

“You got lucky,” Benny takes the first slice, accepting a napkin for an additional piece. “You fell in love with a pretty good moving crew.”

“I think so,” you grin, trying to ignore your anxiety. He inhales the food, pulling you into his lap as he bickers with Will about whether or not more needed to get done today.

Eventually Frankie dictates that at the very least some cleaning should be started and the bedding should be unpacked for the evening. The agree with varying degrees of enthusiasm and after a handful of innuendos your loves begin to disperse, too dutiful to let work go unfinished. The bedframe practically builds itself, and a portable speaker makes Santi’s hips twitch as he floats through the half-barren rooms.

When Will rolls his eyes at Frankie’s choice of screw, you duck away, nerves thrumming.

And you wander around, fake cleaning, until you find your Benny clearing pizza plates. Even amongst boxes and bins and old blankets, he could be at a photo shoot. The evening light make his hair look like silk, and his eyes shine like he’s making you promises this very moment.

“I wouldn’t worry too much,” he says, drawing you into his arms as your head tilts. “We spent years in bunks and tents, and we were younger then.”

His chest was warm and you press your cheek to it, nodding. You hadn’t thought he had noticed, how anxious you’d been about the change, but you had been foolish. Even through his shirt, you can feel the thumping of his giant heart, steady as a drumbeat.

Replaying the evening in your mind, you let go of some of your worries, one by one, and he kisses the top of your head. It’s a thoughtful thing, and it never ceases to amaze you how easily he can wrap you around his finger.

“Ben?”

He makes a noise, somewhere between a hum and a grunt.

You pull his face down to yours, kissing him hard. It was a kiss that says you're grateful, and a kiss that says you love him for being… him.

He accepts it eagerly, and tiredness from the day long gone ad he presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to your lips. The world spins and you feel him shove something heavy off the couch before replacing it with you.

The cushions are dusty from everything but he makes space, and you stop caring as he moves on top of you.

The others would find you soon, their instincts kicking in, but you savor it. Benny, pressing into you, kissing you in the evening light.

The beginning of their conversation from earlier blooms in your mind and you grin as his lips trailed down your neck. It suddenly didn’t seem implausible that he planned this.

“Breaking in” aside, this was the first room you where you truly felt like this could be home.

-

You feel his hands gently replace yours on the zipper and you jump a little - he stands just outside the mirror reflection as you watch the skirts around your ankles. Behind you the big bed is made neatly, there’s a ridiculously large closet, and a tangle of phone chargers.

The bedroom: the place that set apart your home from others. The room that housed five individuals, a web of relationships, a miracle of mixed bodies and minds and hearts.

It looks big, behind you.

Warm, daft fingers tie the extra strings, a neat little bow hanging just between your shoulder blades. The silence is thick, weighted with adoration, but when he breaks it, it’s as if he can’t resist.

“You’re beautiful,” he moves closer, kissing your temple and drinking you in. Turning, your heart aches.

Will is in his dress uniform, crisscrossed with crisp lines and newly shined awards. His hair is lighter after the summer, and he tried to comb it neatly to one side. Compliments catch in your throat as you stare and he smiles, turning you gently so he can kiss you properly. His mouth tastes like mint and you can smell hints of his cologne lingering on his skin.

“Look at you,” you murmur, lips still brushing over his. Letting your hands wander over his face, smoothing his eyebrows, you feel almost in awe of him. Still, he flushes, pleased at your reaction.

“Thank you.”

His chuckle is warm, almost raspy as he tries to enjoy the quietness of your conversation, and he shakes his head. Really, you were sure he was thankful that he was been the only one free for your special evening.

“Thank you,” you correct him. “You didn’t have to do any of this.” The dinner, for your job.

In the mirror, he looked like diamonds and sapphires and gold. Will was like an action figure sometimes, solid and sculpted and stoic, but… he was looking at you like you’d hung the stars in the sky.

It made you blink, his eyes sliding over you, pupils just a little more blown than the lighting required - a gentle reset demanding your attention.

Looking back in the mirror for a moment, the room didn’t seem quite as big, or quite as revealing. It was comforting, how out of place the two of you looked, dressed to the nines because… this was your place. The softness surrounded by details perfectly woven into your life.

Turning, you slip your arms around his neck, gently musing his hair, and his eyebrows draw together, accepting, but confused.

And as you tuck your hand into his elbow and step into your heels, you resist the urge to thank him again.

“I like it better like this,” you admit, and he flushes again, beaming. Looking around, you realize you’re actually looking forward to coming home more than you’re excited to leave. It’s a new feeling, in this space with the four of them and it hits you, hard in your chest. Still, the man beside you is unwavering and you let the feeling consume you, knowing that you’re safe.

-

“Frankie, what is that?”

He flinches, nervousness cutting the excitement on his face.

“Rhetorical question,” Santi says, grinning at you. “He got it from a friend who was going to toss it out.”

It’s a hot tub, taking up a decent chunk of your back porch.

“If anyone can make it work like a dream, it’s Catfish.” Will’s tone is matter-of-fact, all honesty and pride.

Your sweet Francisco drops his tool and grabs your hand, his dark eyes big. “¿Cariño, por favor? From me, to you?” You can see his laptop up, replacement parts on saved tabs, and you tiptoe to kiss his cheek. He likes to have projects, needs to have somewhere to do things, fix things, create things. Maybe at one point it was because he liked the distraction, it was a … replacement coping mechanism, if you will, but it became his pride, to use his hands to improve your lives.

It doesn’t take long, two weeks at most, between his job and his loves, and his long list of honey-dos, but he does it.

“Please and thank you,” you say, and when he kisses you, slow and deep and happy, you hear cheers and high-five and you almost can’t kiss him because he’s smiling.

And it takes awhile to fill, (Will thanking the stars that the water bill is reasonable,) and even longer to heat, and then it’s ready. The boys yank on swim trunks, thanking Frankie with enthusiasm, and you watch them sink into the steaming tub with as they sigh.

You have a bathing suit, of course you do, but you pull on one of his work shirts, knowing he won’t mind the chemicals from the water making the stains blur. And you pair of shorts you caught him watching your butt in, thinking of acknowledging his hard work in your own way.

The volume of your bodies makes it overflow, hot water sloshing onto the ground, but it’s bliss. It’s big, and they shout over the bubbles, talking excitedly about the future, and your heart feels warm in your favorite way.

The others leave early, taking loud laughter with them, and it leaves you and your Catfish. You let yourself float, moving right on top of him, and his hands grab at your hips, slipping and sliding over your skin as he kisses you once, twice. Slow.

It’s late – the stars stretch, there’s a bit of a breeze, and there’s not a light on for miles.

“You like it?” his voice is raspy, quiet, intense, but almost shy. Like if you said no it would break him in two.

“Of course I do, Frankie.” He looks pleased, hand absentmindedly running under his shirt and over your side. Even with the heat of the water, his hand feels like socks warmed in the dryer some cold winter morning. Comforting, maybe a little electric.

You let out a long, happy sigh, and settle against him, content to stay with him until you’re pruny.

“I think…. This is exactly what this house needed.” He starts a little, surprised, but it’s not an exaggeration.

There was always work to do and things to change, but it was the first time you looked out, and didn’t feel a twinge of fear, that anyone was looking in. It would’ve felt vulnerable, intimate to be so exposed, but… it was perfect, because he created it for you. Confidence and pride bubble around you, and Frankie’s eyebrows dip as he smiles – understanding.

-

“Yeah.” Its simple, not too hot, not too cold. Just… right.

It feels like… tar and lava, hot and dark and thick, bubbling and sticky and you want to punch something. Or scream, or cry.

Your Pope finds you standing rigid, smudges of flour on your skin and clothes, pans and spatulas strewn.

“Are we out of sugar?” To your credit, you try to keep your voice even, but he knows you better than that.

Santi shakes his head, plucking it from the pantry and looking guilty. Your mind pauses it’s rampage, and you wince, because you should be the one making that apologetic face, not him. Hot tears bubble in your eyes and you hate it, hate that they’re coming for what feels like no reason.

“Baby,” he says, tone pleading, setting the sugar down and reaching for you. The afternoon sun makes his eyes like rich, deep pots of gold, his hair somehow both soft and statuesque.

When he pauses, the tears fall against your will, just two thick drops down your cheeks. His hand encompasses your whole jaw, thumb gentle as it rubs away the saltwater, and he looks a tad helpless.

And there’s understanding in his eyes and through the blur you think maybe it’s pity. He stands, and your heart clenches, knowing he’ll go get Will, or someone because you’re being ridiculous but… he doesn’t.

You’re saying something about how the kitchen is wrong, how it’s been building for days, you’ve been here almost a week and you can’t fucking find anything. Panic and frustration locked horns in your chest and you couldn’t breathe and all you wanted to do was make something nice –

Instead, he’s pulling out things and piling them onto the floor in categories around you. It’s almost comical the stacks he makes but he seems determined and in your confusion the tears slow to a stop.

“Santi –” he hushes you. The cupboard doors hang open, and he guides you, lifting you up and up and into his arms. It’s solid and grounding, and he’s not as tall as the others and you needed him desperately.

And slowly, you begin to put things away where it makes sense, to you, and he helps. Not once does he argue with you, not even a moment when his dark eyebrows knit together in judgement. Dutifully he cleans and places everything just where you tell him, and you can almost feel the steam rising off of you as you begin to cool.

The final pile is a mountain of cloth, aprons and oven mitts and… something you’ve never seen before. Or actually, something you had, just not in your house. A set of hand towels you’d wistfully looked at awhile ago, before talking yourself out of the purchase. You had dozens at this point and didn’t need more but…

The man seating on the floor, folding them into perfect squares, is the answer to the question your mind produces.

You feel like you’ve been hosed down from head to toe, almost cold from the absence of frustration in your blood.

Pushing the pile to the side you climb into his lap, as determined as he was, and he looks surprised. It’s silly: sitting in your lover’s lap on the kitchen floor, but it feels more real than a movie. It’s your kitchen, yours and his, in this moment.

You kiss him, slow and purposeful and –

He knows you like the back of his hand.

-

You’re sitting on the bathroom counter distracting Santi as he shaves when Benny bursts in to tell you a story.

Will trails behind him, patiently waiting for his brother to take a breathe so he can set the record straight. Absentmindedly he weaves between them to pick up a fallen hand towel, passing it to Pope to wipe the shaving cream from his jaw. They share a moment and Benny’s story stutters out. Looking up from your nails you see Frankie leaning against the doorframe, a toothbrush hanging from his mouth.

There’s hardly room to move – and you couldn’t have it any other way.

His eyebrows are bent as he takes in the four of you, crammed into the spare bathroom, and Ben laughs.

<<

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge @horton-hears-a-honk

for the poly frontier:

@grogusmum

[oneirataxiahiraeth]

First Time Jitters

Pairings : SpencerReid x Fem!Reader

Warnings : unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering, language

Summary : At a dinner party hosted by Rossi, the girls tells stories on the first times they’ve had to fake an orgasm. They all get intrigued by the readers silence and begin digging into her new relationship with Collague Spencer Reid and find out they haven’t even had sex together... yet.

Word Count : a little over 4K

“Are you kidding me? I’ve never felt anger like that in my life.” Emily laughed out, the rest of us entranced in her tales about the horrors of her sex life. “That’s was probably the first, but definitely not the last time I ever had to fake it.” She shrugged, and I felt my cheeks turn pink. We all sat around the fire pit at Rossi’s house after dinner, soaking in the warmth from the fire. Rossi and Hotch were inside, probably have a heart to heart about man troubles or something, and Reid was entertaining Henry and Jack showing them Magic’s tricks and ignoring any signs of the rest of the adults here.

“Well, sorry to you ladies but I can gladly say that none of my boo thangs ever had to worry about not finishing.” Morgan spoke proudly with a smile on his face. I could see on Garcia’s face how bad she wanted to make some inappropriate joke but she let it pass.

“Okay, I mean... Will is amazing. A totally sweetheart, but sometimes...” JJ groaned, leaving the rest up to our imaginations. If I remembered correctly she was actually the one who brought up the conversation. She mentioned something about her ‘mommy and daddy’ time last being a complete disaster that Will didn’t even know about.

I sat quietly listening to everyone tell their worst stories, laughing when they did and making some commentary from time to time. It was growing late and the only thing in the sky was a crescent moon that seemed to shine really bright. I was seconds away from passing out on Morgan’s shoulder as my attention suddenly was drawn to the fire. I should’ve know that eating so much pasta tonight would’ve led to a food induced coma.

“Awfully quiet tonight.” Morgan spoke, his shoulder moving my head up to get my attention. My eyes looked back up to the group whose eyes were all focused on me. I was fairly quiet tonight, but with the topic on hand I hadn’t needed to speak too much. I’ve had my fair shares of faking my orgasms with ex boyfriends, but it’s been a while since I last did anything sexual with anyone. Reid and I only began dating about 5 months ago, and while I was okay waiting for him, he just never seemed to be interested in doing anything like that. Besides the flirty comments, we never seemed to take it past the heated make out sessions whenever we could sneak them in.

“You’ve been staring off into space for like half the conversation.” Emily spoke, a bit of worry in her tone. “What’s up? No fun stories of boyfriends who couldn’t get you there?” She raised a brow and I gave a slow shrug. Of course I have stories, but none of them really worth mentioning.

“Oh no, I have tons.” I spoke, picking my head up off of Morgan’s shoulder. “No fun ones, though. None of my ex boyfriends have ever been able to get me close.” I spoke honestly. None of any of the guys I slept with in the past has ever been able to make me cum.

“Any stories of boy wonder over there?” Morgan teased and I shook my head.

“Not one.” I answered, hoping my answer would satisfy their need for gossip.

“Really?” Morgan looked surprised, looking back to the brown haired Doctor who was explained to the child how he did his last magic trick. “You’ve never had to fake it with him?” He scoffed. “He’s only had like one girlfriend before!” He wasn’t wrong. Spencer had expressed to me a few times about his lack of experience. Maybe that simple fact that he’s only ever had sex like maybe twice played a part in his abstinence. Maybe he just didn’t see me as someone he wanted to have sex with.

“Honestly,” I took in a deep breath as I realized that they were all staring back at me like I was the object of their affection. “We haven’t had-”

“Oh. My. God.” Garcia gasped, already knowing the end of my sentence. I rolled my eyes, as Morgan’s whole body shifted just to give me a look the read ‘are you really serious right now?’

“It’s not that big of a deal.” I shrug it off, minimizing the impact of the news. “Like you said, he’s had one girlfriend before. Maybe he’s just not ready yet.” I mention, relaxing my already tense body.

“It’s been 5 months.” Garcia adds.

"It's not that long of a time to be dating."

“You guys are around each other for almost like 24 hours a days every day of the week!” Emily scoffed. “You’re telling that you’ve never had sex with him before?” She asked and I shook my head .

“We don’t even talk about it really...”

Each of my team members remained silent, coming up with possible solutions to my ‘problem’. I could see it in there faces that they were just in shock. They all looked to each other, equally as confused and a bit uncomfortable as the next. Doubt flashed across their eyes as they all looked because me and the brown haired Doctor across the lawn.

“So...” Emily began “if you and Spencer haven’t had sex yet, when was the last time you did?” She asked, interrupting he silence.

“I don’t know like...” I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I had sex with anyone. “A few years maybe?”

“A FEW YEARS?!” Garcia gasped loudly, gaining the attention of the doctor from across the field who only paid attention for a second before returning to the two boys.

“Oh my god, could you be any louder?” I laughed at her obvious dismay over my absent sex life.

“If you said anything over ‘a few years’ then yeah, I probably could be.” She nodded, still very troubled over the news.

“Look, We’re both pretty busy people outside of work and obviously weee not going to do it on the job-”

“Literally that’s a terrible excuse.” Garcia shook her head, as disappointment began to form on her face. Maybe they were right. We’ve been dating for 5 months but we’ve known each other way longer. It’s not like we were complete stranger still digging to get to know the other person.

“What’s a terrible excuse?” Spencer’s voice spoke from over my shoulder, causing me to jolt slightly. Everyone’s eyes immediately focused on him as he stood there confused and left out. I didn’t even have to give them a dirty look to tell them to keep our conversation under wraps, considering it was him we were talking about.

“Y/n was just telling us how she never read any of the Harry Potter books before.” Garcia spoke quickly, everyone nodding to agree with what she said. I cursed him out in my head as he moved around the couch and sat down next to me. I then shifted my weight from Morgan to Spencer, leaning my head on his shoulder. I tried to ignore the eyes but I couldn’t, each other them staring completely unbothered on how awkward it totally was.

“Y/n doesn’t read anything that doesn’t have hot vampires who sparkle in the sun.” Spencer commented, making my mouth drop. That’s was so untrue, I read other things too... I can’t name them off the top of my head but I know I do!

“Thats so-”

"very accurate?" he finished my sentence causinf my eyes to narrow even though i wasnt looking at him.

“Actually Spence, y/n was just telling us about a headache she had!” JJ spoke up, putting on a concern face that confused the hell out of me. When did I mention I had a headache? “She’s said her head was pulsing and it felt like her brain was throbbing?” My eyes widened and I realized what she was doing.

“Yeah,” Emily spoke, nodding her head as she picked up on the silent plan they just agreed upon. “I think she needs to get home, she might have hit her head or something earlier.” Emily frowned, as if she was really concerned for my health. They each had a look of evil on their faces which, to the blind eye, could easily be mistaken for care.

“Really? That’s does sound kind of bad, maybe we should get you to the ER? It might be a concussion...” Reid spoke, and my eyes widened even more.

“Oh no, she was check by the medics earlier! She might just have a migraine.” Morgan came quickly to my rescue. God knows what I’d have to do to talk Spencer out of taking me to the ER if he thought I was hurt or injured.

“You guys a such-” I stopped myself, watching the amusement grow on their faces as the waited for me to finish my sentence. “... such angels...” I grumbled, “always looking out for me.” I hummed, narrowing my eyes at the women on the couch across from me.

“Come on, let’s get you home.” Spencer spoke, helping me stand from the couch even though I was perfectly fine.

Our fingers were intertwined as we bid farewell to our evil scheming friends. I let him lead the way back to the hous, solely so I could flick them off behind his back. Once we got close to the house, we were attacked with hugs and pleads not to leave by the touch gorgeous little boys who would just missed their uncle Spencer. After we said our goodbyes to Rossi and Hotch we headed back to his apartment. Only because I loved the smell of strong coffee and old books, and he was closer.

“You should go lay down, y/n/n. I can wake you up when it’s time to go?” He spoke sweetly, his hands on my hips as we entered his bed room. I smiled at his kindness, remembering how I promised I’d go to some late night movie with him this morning. It was showing in Russian and he was just itching to sit through 3 hours of it to translate it to me.

“I love you.” I hummed, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, as my arm snaked around his neck in order to pull him into a hug. His movements stuttered just a bit before he returned the hug back to me.

“I love you.” He counter, squeezing me into him. “Now tell me, how many glasses have you had?” He teased.

“One.” I answered, laughing at the face he gave me when he pulled away. “Only one, I swear!” I defend myself with a smile. It wasn’t thag hard to get him to realize I was telling the truth, I wasn’t big on drinking and I’d be damned if I let myself get wine drunk.

“Y/N Y/L/N, showing affection to little old me?” He raised his eyebrows. “What did I ever do to deserve it?” He joked.

"Why wouldn’t I be affection towards my loving, sexy, intelligent, boyfriend?” I teased with a playfully frown.

"Have you met you?" He smiled from my response, his arms wrapping around me a bit tighter.

“You know... I like kissing you.” I spoke slowly, my eyes falling to his lips no matter how hard I tried to get them to stare into his sparkly green eyes which always seemed to stare right into my soul.

“I like kissing you too...” his cheeks turned pink from the compliment.

“Hugging you is pretty nice too...” I further my compliments, my voice turned sultry and smooth as I tried my best to be seductive. I never really pushed the idea of sex on him, I was too scared that he’d reject me and I’d ruin everything. Now I’m starting to think that maybe everyone was right? It’s been a long time since I had sex, and it’s probably been longer for him. And we’ve been dating for a while now... maybe now is the time? “Hugging you and kissing you is really nice.” I murmured as his lips pressed into mine once more.

“I enjoy hugging and kissing you too.” He smiled back, a bit confused but he didn’t seem to mind. His large hands moving up and down my back. Right now, in his mind I was probably just basking in him right now. In mine, I really wanted him to catch the hint that I needed him to fuck me.

Our lips pressed together again, this time sending tingles down my spine. We slowly moved back until I had Spencer on the bed, with me straddling him as our lips moved in sync. He smiled against my lips as his hands moved down to my thighs, gripping them a bit harder than usual. This was it. This was them position we ended up in every single time we made out, only this time I was hoping for somethingother than just a heated make out session. His tongue swiped at my bottom lips gaining instant access before his was in complete control.

Spencer William Red had me wrapped around his finger and didn’t even know it. It’s been 5 months, yet even before I had the privilege of being his girlfriend I would’ve done whatever he asked of me. I was and still am completely ready to be used at his disposal.

“Are you sure you’re not tired?” He mumbled against my lips, slowing the pace before things could get too heavy.

“Not at all.” I hummed, leaving one last peck on his lips. I debated on what to do for a few seconds as my eyes wondered over his beautiful face. “I- I uhm, I have a question.” My voice came out soft, and gentle which wasn’t usual. Whenever I spoke, usually it was with confidence, and had no problem talking about uncomfortable topics but this... this was a whole new world.

“What’s wrong?” I watched the content look on his face dropped into more of a frown.

“I-” my eyes got caught in his, sparkling from the dim light in his dark green painted room. “I don’t know...” I used my fingers to brush a piece of his hair before his ear. He was truly magnificent to look at, from his cheekbones to his perfect nose, everything about him was just... pretty.

“Talk to me.” He frowned further, his hands careful not to move further than where they already were.

“Do you not want to... like...” my eyes narrowed a bit watching his confusion take place. He was one of the brightest people I knew yet he was still so clueless. “...touch me?” I sounded like an insecure teenage right now, and I honestly didn’t care. This conversation could go a number of ways and I’d rather take everything right now that go another day or week or month thinking that sleeping with me was a repulsive idea to my own boyfriend.

“You- I- what?” His eyes widened, and I dropped my arms from around his neck. I would’ve gotten off of his lap, but his hands were gripping tightly on to my hips in a way that made me want to throw myself at him. “You mean like...?” Goddammit Spencer, how fucking clueless are you?

“Do you not want to have sex with me?” My face was just as soft as my tone. I could see the shock taking effect as his brain worked as quickly as it could to fully understand what was happening at the moment.

“I- uhm, I-“ he stumbled, and for a second I swore my heart broke into a thousand many pieces.

“You know... just forget it, it was a stupid question anyways-”

“No!” His voice came out strong and willful. “No I just- I wasn’t expecting that, I guess.” He explained and I nodded. “I-I- do want to... uhm... have a- sex with you, y/n.” His face was showing a variety of emotions and I’m sure mine was too. “ I just...”

“Don’t want to catch a disease?” I joked, which he apparently didn’t find very funny. I couldn’t help it though, it’s too awkward in here for my liking.

“I don’t want you-“ he stopped to think for a moment, “I don’t want you to be underwhelmed.” He explained, my mouth dropping at his confession. He was scared he wouldn’t be able to pleasure me? That’s was... horribly sweet of him. Not that I expected anything less from Spencer himself... that was just very unpredicted.

I wanted to tell him about all the past guys who never even got close to getting me off, but I don’t think that would make the situation any better. Honestly, right now, just the thought of him touching me could’ve got me off. Even if he couldn’t get me there, I’d fake it. I’d fake it really fucking good just for him because so am completely wrapped around his finger. Well, I wanted to be at least...

“I just want to be with you, Spence.” I spoke, watching the light smile form back to his lips. He was conflicted for a second before nodding his head. His light green sparkly eyes then turned dark, his pupils dilating as our faces grew closer until I could feel our breaths mixing together.

“I love you so fucking much.” He hummed, just before connecting our lips again. I felt the butterflies in my stomach going crazy as his hands moved to my face, pulling our lips together again.

He tasted like the white wine he enjoyed at dinner earlier. It was an odd choice but one I could definitely get behind, only if it was on his tongue. His signature scent of vanilla coffe and some expensive cologne swirled around in my nostrils driving me absolutely mad. My hips moved against the fabric of his pants, grinding against him releasing only a bit of tension from my own body. His hands working quickly to unbutton my jeans and blouse, exposing my black laced bra hiding underneath. I let out a tiny giggle as his back collided with the soft duvet, leaving me right on top of him, making it much easier to grind down on him.

His hands moved to my hips, guiding me right where he needed me. My hands traveled from his jaw all the way down his chest, unbuttoning what I could until I got to his belt. I gasped as my back suddenly hit the duvet, giggling again as I felt Spencer smile against my lips. Spencer struggles to carry a gun properly so, flipping us over was a very impressive move coming from him.

“Literally, just beautiful.” He mumbled on my lips before pulling away to look at me.

My cheeks burned a bright red, as I watched him study my own body. His body rested in between my legs, and his hands slowly traced over my skin. He sent me a sweet smile, and I thought of 100 jokes I could make right now but I figured it wasn’t the moment. I lift my hips as he tugged off my jeans and shirt tossing it somewhere across the room, ditching his own shirt. Now I was laying naked, waiting for him to touch me, well, everywhere. My eyes caught onto the faint six pack that’s always hidden under his own shirts, and I swear if I could I’d stare at it forever.

“Like what you see?” I teased, watching a smile spread to his lips as he rolled his eyes.

“Kinda, yeah.” He nodded, bringing his forehead down to rest on mine. His hands moved to my side, taking his heavy grip on them. My leg propped up on his side, giving him a bit more room to work.

“Kinda?” I raised an eyebrow at the reply and he shrugged. My breathing halted at the feeling of his hand playing at the band of me black panties.

“I’m sure I’d like it much better, if you had nothing on at all.” I felt my stomach go into full on cartwheel as his hand slipped under the band of my panties. His lips pressed a light kiss to my forehead, before he went down to my neck. The heat from his hand hovering above me sent the most explicit images to my head. Every time my hips bucked into his hands, his lips found a spot to suck and nip at earning light moans.

“Please Spence.” I whimper, feeling his lips curl into a smile against my neck. He pressed some more antagonizingly slow soft kisses as he made his way back to my lips. He hovered for a second before our lips were moving again, his lips muting the sounds of my moans from his finger circling around my clit.

“Shit.” He muttered against my lips, as he ran his finger up my soaked slit, teasing my entrance just enough to collect just juices on his fingers. My hips grind up into his hand, begging for more of him.

His fingers sped up as he massaged my clit, sending a deep tingle throughout my body. He pulled apart from our kiss, and I released a loud moan. His fingers already finding their way into me, curling to touched that right spot inside of me. My hands grip at the sheets and pillows as he begins to pump in and out of me. I felt the tension in my stomach tightening as he brought my closer to where I was so desperately needing to be. He left a trail of sweet kisses down my body until he reached the band of my panties.

“Oh fuck-” I moaned out, catching a glimpse of what he was doing to me in the body mirror across the room. I could see my panties pushed to the side as his fingers fucked into me faster by the minute. I could’ve came at the sight right there, but picked up on where I was looking. His head turned to the mirror watching as I squirm under he touched when he pushed into me a bit harder than before. He sent me a devious smirk before turning back to his current project. “Oh my fuck- right there Spence- god!” I moaned loudly as I felt his tongue lapping up my slick, playing with my clit as he sped the pace of his fingers. My back arched off the bed as the euphoric high of the orgasm I was about to reach shot through me.

“Cum for me, Angel.” He murmured against me, sending a vibration right to my clit. Without warning I spilled everything on his fingers. I let out another string of curses as he removed his fingers only to replace his digits with his tongue, sucking everything out of me.

“You taste even better than you look right now.” He hummed, as he sucked my juice from his fingers. I put on a lazy smile, as my arms wrapped right back around his neck. He brought his lips down to me, giving me a good taste of myself.

“So pretty damn good?” I joke, earning a tickle at my sides. “My turn?” I prepared myself to be flip over again but instead I was hold down in place by the brown haired man.

“Normally I wouldn’t object but I really want to be inside of you right now.” He commented, my eyes widened a big at his bluntness before nodding my head. He slipped off his boxers, pumping himself above me a few times. His tip grazed my clit twice earning a moan from the sensitive sensations. I could tell he was enjoying having me completely at his mercy. I was enjoying it too. “Are you Ready?” He asked and I nodded, eager to feel him inside of me.

Without another word he slid into me slowly until he bottomed out. I gasped at the stretch and sting I felt as he entered. I felt myself convulse around him, causing him to tense over me. He stayed buried in me, allowing me to adjust to his size. I had half the mind to make a joke about him being such a gentleman but I kept it to myself.

“You can move.” I he gave a nod, as he pulled out earning a light moan from my throat. For a split second a saw a flash of evil cross his eyes. There was no pretty Sparkles in his eyes, they were now fake and filled with lust as his eyes raked over me.

He slammed into me, hitting the exact spot where I needed him. He kept a fast pace, hiking my leg up to his side again hitting into me at a deeper angle. His lips attached to mine in a hungry manner, as if I was just there for his own comfort. My back was arched off the bed as I get the knot forming in my stomach threatening to come undone once more as I cried out multiple profanities in his kiss.

“Oh fuck, y/n.” He moaned out bringing me right to the edge, my walls clenching around him as he picked up the pace. I let out the loudest pornographic moan of his name as I came undone. He fucked me through the euphoria as his own thrust began to stutter.

Our breathing was heavy as he pulled out and released his load on my lower stomach. I gave him another lazy smile, seeing as I didn’t have the energy for much else. Once he as finish he collapsed on the bed next to me, pulling my body into his. I could hear his heart beat racing through his chest... or was that mine? I was sure to be 8 different types of soar in the morning, and right now I was on the verge of actually passing out.

“You’re incredible.” I breathed looking to my equally as fucked out boyfriend. His long strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, driving me slightly crazy.

“I don’t think we’re going to make that movie.” He laughed, making my smile grow.

I looked to the alarm set by the bed. “It’s only 11:30, we totally make it in time.” I spoke, remembering his excitement about this film earlier in the day.

“Yeah, but I have much better things to do actually.” He mentioned with a light shrug, brushing a few strand of hair from my own sweaty forehead.

“Like?”

“You.”

I smiled at the group of agents all hovering in the bullpen, probably talking about their weekends off. It was rare we ever got a whole weekend to ourselves, so whenever we did we made sure to take full advantage of it. I mean... I certainly did.

“Morning guys.” I smiled as is at down at my desk which Morgan for some reason thought was a chair.

“Morning sunshine!” The muscular clad man greeted me with a smile. “How waa your weekend?”

“It was really good actually.” I shrugged, noticing the expecting looks I recieved from the group. I noticed Penelope coming out from her office in the corner of my eye. She caught a quick glimpse of all of us, and her senses caught on quickly before she changes her route and made her way down with a giddy smile.

“You seem happy.” She walked up with a grin on her red painted lips. “You’re not a morning person... you never smile this early.” She stated. “Did you have sex?!” She spoke right to the point, taking me by surprise.

“I- uhm... what?”

“Yes? No? Did you at least talk to him about it?” She pushed, my cheeks turning red at the questions.

“Yeah, we did talk about the whole sex thing.” I gave in, knowing eventually they were going to find out everything on their own, either from me or Reid.

“How’d it go?” JJ asked, her and Emily catching onto the conver as the two of them moved to the front of my desk.

“Am I invited to the party this time?” Rossi spoke, as he walked down from his office, joining our group cluster.

“They talked about it!” Garcia cheered to him, and his face lit up as if her was actually proud of me.

“You did not tell Rossi!” I gasped

“Yeah we did, Hotch knows too.” Emily spoke, “now, what happened after you talked about it?!” She dismissed it, in hopes to get more information.

I sat in disbelief for a good few seconds before shaking my head. I knew they lived for the office gossip, I was the same way. Things like office gossip made us feel regular, considering the crazy and gore that came with the job. In all honestly, I hadn’t minded it all that much.

“It went well...” I shrugged

“And...?” Rossi spoke, waiting for more of the story.

“How well?” JJ asked, a smirk taking over her lips. They all stared intently as they waited for me to reply.

“I mean... we had sex.” I mumbled, just loud enough for them to hear. “...a lot”

“Seriously?!?” Garcia squealed.

“I- was it- was it good? How’d did it happen?” Emily asked, and I felt the heat rushing to my cheeks.

“Uhm...” I tried to think of less descriptive words than the ones popping into my head. “It was really good... like amazing actually.” I scoffed, laughing at the noises each of them made.

“So did you actually-”

“Yup.”

“And he’s the first person to ever make you-” I raise a brow at Morgan, putting slip finger to stop him mid sentence. He honestly looked in disbelief that Reid, of all people, could satisfy me after all these years.

“I said non of my ex boyfriends.” I clarified. I watched as Emily’s smile grew impressed, and Morgan and JJs jaws dropped at the confession. Garcia simply just squealed again, and I can’t even describe the look on Rossi’s face.

“Morning guys!” Reid walked in, a bright smile on his face chasing the rest of us to giggle at his brightness. He was usually in a good mood on mondays, but this was just a whole different type of mood. I had my ideas on why, but I didn’t have to say them out loud.

“Morning loverboy.” Morgan smiled at the new nickname. I haven’t seen him since early early this morning. We decided to part ways, mainly because anytime we looked at each other ended up in us having sex on whatever piece of furniture or appliance was nearest. Surprisingly he didn’t even mentioned a single thing about the about of germs and bacteria we could’ve spread either. Reid gave us all a wide smile before he walked up to my desk. He leaned down to height, placing a stern yet soft kiss to my lips. He usually went for the forehead or the nose, which all of us were aware of.

“How was your weekends?” He asked, looking to his friends happily.

“How was yours?” Garcia smirked, as she rest her elbow on dereks should. I felt my cheek glow hot again.

“It was... really good.”

“Oh we know.” Rossi mumbled, earning a dirty glare from me as my jaw dropped a little bit. The old man sent me a innocent smile a shrug, before Reid caught on.

“You know...” he spoke, giving me the same right lip smile he does when he really doesn’t know what to say.

“They know we had sex.” I spoke quickly, and his eyes widen a bit as he finally realized.

“Oh.” He spoke, fixing the satchel on his shoulder. Spencer was never very public with past romances, so I don’t know how he’d react to this. “I mean... I had sex with my girlfriend, what’s the big deal.” He shrugged, not seeming to mind too much. My eyes widened a bit, as I felt his arm snake around my waist pulling me into his side.

“You know what?” Rossi spoke, standing from his seat. “He’s right. He’s an adult, as are we. So stop acting like a bunch of children!” He scolded the group of adults hanging around us like a bunch of lost puppies. I smiled and nodded agreeing with the man. Reid gave him a thankful smile, before pressing another kiss to my cheek and going to his own desk.

Rossi stood in front of me as he watched the other back off, with eye rolls and huffs.

“Did you at least use protection?” Rossi teased, but for some reason thag caught my attention. Our attention. Sudden flashes from all the events that took place over these last few days flooded our minds at the exact same time. My body stiffened for a second before I grabbed the files stacked up on my desk to work from home. We hadn’t used a single condom all weekend. Everyone’s eyes were wide and I moved quickly, scrapping everything into my arms before I looked to Reid with an equally as fesrful look on his face.

“Text if you need anything.” I mumbled before practically running out of the office with Spencer close on my heels.

We were totally screwed

[phoenixrising0308]

An American in Cordonia: Our Vows

Books: The Royal Romance 1

Rating: M (18+) Sexual situation and adult themes.

Trigger Warnings in this chapter:  Swearing and Physical Attack

Pairing: Liam x  Jessica Garcia (MC)

An American In Cordonia Series premise: A New Yorker seeking adventure and love finds herself living abroad to competing for the hand of a man who will become King. When things don’t go according to plan they enter into a Cordonian arrangement. This is a series about Jessica Garcia’s life abroad, her time as a suitor, and explores her romantic relationship with Liam while she lives in a Cordonian arrangement. Catch up here

Disclaimer

Chapter Summary: Savannah and Bertrand tie the knot. Madeleine causes a scene.

Song inspiration: Nobody but you - Blake Sheldon & Gwen Stefani

Word Count: 1, 960 *As always, forgive my typos and grammatical errors.*

Average reading time: 8 minutes

*Information in the chapter in regards to Bianca Walker and Madeleine will be revealed in current and future installments of the promise (Part 3 D/E/G): What they stole from us. Information on Jessica reading the law (studying Cordonian law) will be revealed in Chapter 2 of Forged in fire *

Ramsford

“Here, I think if we just brought a few more pieces down in the front...Perfect.”

Savannah starred in the mirror as Jessica helped her get ready. Her white ball gown was trimmed with lace sleeves, and a piece of expensive diamond jewelry set Bertrand had bought for her birthday. Her hair was styled in a high bun, and her veil had scattered diamonds embedded throughout the lace.

Savannah took in a deep breath, “Thank you so much for helping me, Jessica. I don't have any sisters or too many friends in Court.”

Jessica stood back, a glimpse of her powder blue satin dress in the mirror. It dropped to the side with a crystal-encrusted brooch of a cephalopod clipped where it bunched up high on her waist. Her hair was half up, half down in loose ringlets and peep-toe pumps that matched her dress.

“What are maids of honors for? I mean, I guess you COULD have picked Drake.”

“Oh, I thought about it, but it's not the most traditional thing to pick your brother, and I think all that attention would make him implode. I'm lucky he wants to walk me down the aisle. He'll probably drink his weight in whiskey tonight.”

Jessica chuckled as she helped adjust the jewels in Savannah's hair. She paused as Savannah stared at the mirror sadly.

“What is it?”

She tried to force a smile. “It's nothing. I should be over the moon on my wedding day...Just... Sad my mom couldn't come.”

Jessica faltered. “Maxwell is recording the whole thing, and we are making sure she gets a copy of it overnight so she can watch her little girl get married.”

“I just feel horrible that she couldn't attend. She barely even gets to see Bartie.”

Her eyes shined, and Jessica quickly hugged her with a smile. “Hey, I know it's hard, but Liam is working on finding a way to allow her back into Cordonian despite the ban. Leo and I are working on it day and night we promise.”

Savannah sniffed. “You guys are?”

“Yes! Yours truly doing legal research on the topic. I really have nothing but time on my hands and Liam thinks I should try reading the law since I miss school so much. It feels good to be useful and he is convinced me learning the Law and French would be helpful. Sometimes he lets me look at contracts and I correct them. I think he likes it. But in a few moments from now, you will be a part of a noble house, and Bartie will be a legal heir to Ramsford, and that changes everything. You can invoke a few privileges and requesting her to be able to travel here is one of them we just have to work around signatures kind of like what happened with me and my visa.”

Savannah held Jessica in an embrace "The day I met you in Paris. I knew we would be fast friends, and I’m so happy that we are.”

“Also, I have to tell you in one of my late-night study law sessions with Leo, and he told me that Liam gave Bertrand permission to use the Royal Jet to go to Texas. I don’t know when but just know it's in the works.”

“Oh, Jessie…” Savannah hugged her. Savannah calmed herself before standing. “How do I look?”

“Breathtaking...Bertrand is going to cry.”

She chuckled, “I don't know about that.”

“Savannah, the man is in love with you. If anyone could move him to tears; It's you and Bartie...Plus, Maxwell and I have a bet going on that he will. Drake and Leo think he won't. Liam let me wager for him.”

They both laughed as Savannah shook her head, “Awful.”

“I'll make sure to take plenty of pictures you can send to Bianca.”

“Thank you. It means the world to me. You're like the sister I always wanted.”

“Same to you. I grew up with nothing but brothers, so you being like a sister to me is welcomed.”

Knocking sounded on the door as Drake said, “Hey, it's almost time. Are you ready? I can see the bride before, right?”

Savannah laughed, “Yes, Drake, that's only for the groom. Come in.”

Drake cautiously opened the door. Jessica watched from the sidelines as he approached her.

“What do you think?”

Drake stared down at her, “You look….” He swallowed a moment as Jessica edged herself to the door.

“I'll let you both have your moment.”

The door shut as Drake looked down at her in surprise. She averted her gaze, “Is it too much?”

“No! No, sorry, I'm just...Lost for words. It's not every day your baby sister gets married. You look beautiful.” He gave her a smile. “I know I'm not Dad, but -”

She looked back up at him, eyes shining. “Drake, I'm glad you're walking me down the aisle. You're the best big brother a girl could ask for.”

She hugged him as he held her close, a lump in his throat as they parted.

“Hell Savannah...I just...It's hard to believe you're all grown up and walking down the aisle today.”

“Drake, I can't be your baby sister forever.”

“Nah, you'll always be… Are you sure you want to go through with it? I can sneak you out the back, and no one would know.”

Savannah chuckled, “Drake. I'm beyond sure. Bertrand is the one for me, forever and always.”

Drake sighed, “I know. I don't know what you see in him, but he treats you like a damn princess, and he's a great dad to Bartie.”

He sighed and offered her his arm, “Ready?”

“Absolutely.”

Ramford's Vineyard

Jessica walked out into the vineyard. It was set up in luxurious powder blue drapery and hints of the family crest. People were already taking their seats, the Royal family having their own seating upfront where Savannah's family would have sat.

Bertrand stood nervously upfront with the ordained minister at the arch, who happened to be Leo having his own license to wed now that barrister privileges were restored.

Maxwell waited for her as he offered her an arm. He was in a dark navy suit with a powder blue tie. “Shall we, Maid of Honor?”

She slid her arm into his, “We shall, Best man.”

All eyes fell on them as they smiled broadly. Jessica's gaze softened as she locked eyes with Liam, who gave her a warm smile as she passed by him.

They parted as Jessica took her spot, and Maxwell stood beside the groom as the best man. She and Bertrand locked eyes as he nervously fidgeted with his sleeve. Jessica smiled and mouthed, “You got this. Mr. Rogers.”

Not many noble women were friendly enough to Savannah to be bridesmaids. So, the couple decided on only Jessica and Maxwell to represent them.

Bertrand smiled as he saw his son walk down the aisle bearing the rings on a pillow. Maxwell gave Bartie a thumbs up and mouthed, “Just like we practiced!” Bartie stoically walked down the aisle until he saw Bertrand. His smile grew, matching his father's as he made his way to the altar.

He reached Maxwell, who took the pillow and gave him a low five. “Yes, buddy, you did great!”

Everyone quieted down as the music started.

Jessica watched as Savannah and Drake slowly walked down the aisle. She smiled, seeing Bertrand's breath hitch, and a gasp escaped him at seeing Savannah.

Drake held her arm, his eyes shining. They reached the altar. Leo asked, “Who is giving the bride away?”

Drake smiled softly down at Savannah. “Her brother.” Before he released her.

Savannah reached out to hold Bertrand's hands, he smiled at her, and she tenderly smiled back.

The entire ceremony, while Leo read them their vows, all Jessica could do was look to Liam in the crowd. He did the same, both of them smiling sadly at one another. Liam mouthed the vows every so often at Jessica as she dabbed her eyes.

Leo finally asked, “Do you, Bertrand Beaumont, take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife? To cherish and to hold for as long as you both shall live?”

His voice quivered as he proudly said, “Yes, for the rest of my life. I do.”

“And do you, Savannah Walker, take this man to be your lawful wedded husband? To love and honor for as long as you both shall live?”

She rubbed her thumb over his hand, “I do. Now and forever.”

“Then by the power vested in me by God and man, I pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Bertrand cupped her face, softly enveloping her in a formal kiss. One that she deepened by wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close. Happy tears streamed down both of their cheeks as they parted.

30 Minutes Later

Ballroom…

“Pay up.” Jessica and Maxwell held out their hands as Leo and Drake both groaned.

“I never thought I'd see the Duke of Ramsford cry, but I'm glad it was for my sister.”

Maxwell snorted, “I can! Bertrand is head over heels for Savannah and is a softie like Drake is.”

Drake scoffed, “Hey, I'm not fucken soft.”

Jessica, Leo, and Maxwell all burst into snickering as Drake glared at them. Jessica replied, “Give it up, Marshmallow. Your eyes were wet when you walked her down the aisle.”

Leo said as he patted Drake on the back, “Nothing to be ashamed of. She's your little sister. We all have soft spots with our younger siblings.”

Jessica lost her smile as the thought of Mateo and Adam at her wedding filtered through her mind. The never-ending voice of doubt, 'Will there be one?' forever plaguing her mind.

She was pulled out of her thoughts when Savannah tapped Drake on the shoulder.

“Drake, it's the Father slash Brother and the Bride dance.”

He smirked, “I'm not the best dancer, though.”

“I could care less. I'm having this dance with you, Drake Walker. Whether you like it or not.”

He laughed, “Alright, alright!” He offered his hand as they made their way to the dance floor.

Jessica watched them as someone whispered, “You look gorgeous, Love.” his voice sent a shiver down her spine.

She smiled at Liam over her shoulder, “You look dashing as ever.”

He subtly leaned into her, “After we give our speeches, meet me in the vineyard. Being alone with you is all I’ve imagined since I saw you.”

They both glanced at Madeleine, who caught their eye from across the room. Her emerald eyes narrowed as Liam glared back. Jessica smiled and said, “I can hardly wait. For now, you should get ready to give your blessing.”

He smiled down at her before parting, her hand subtly reaching for his fingertips as he passed by her.

Drake and Savannah finished their dance, genuine joy on Drake's face as he led her back off the dance floor.

“See? Was that so bad?” Savannah asked.

He shrugged, “No...In fact, I'm glad we made that memory.”

Everyone turned to Madeleine as she drew everyone's attention.

She held up her flute of champagne, “I would like to make a toast to the happy couple as the QUEEN.”

Everyone watched her as she gave a fake smile, “Savannah, I am so happy for you to have joined the Beaumont household. It's generous of them to accept everyone despite having no noble prestige. Despite so many, that would turn you away; Duke Ramsford accepted you as a wife. I'm delighted to see him making you feel as though you belong. We in court know you never truly fit in but now you are Duchess so that changes the level of respect you or owed. So you will be tolerated more than just humored moving forward. We were shocked to find out you had a child out of wedlock but Duke Ramsford saw it fit that he should now be heir to all of this.”

Madeleine took a sip from her drink and continued, “Truly, House Beaumont has earned its place. Accepting the Cordonia’s strays and that is why the King and I offered to pay for this wedding. It's the least we can do for a house that does so much charity.” Her eyes darted to Jessica in the crowd.

“They took in a woman they barely knew in order to allow her to experience what we do. They sponsored her for the social season despite the shame she brought to their door. And even after everything that happened, they still adopted her as a member of House Beaumont. If that is not honorable of a House, I don't know what is. I'm just so glad at least one member of House Beaumont got to experience a beautiful white wedding courtesy of the Crown. It will be the only Beaumont wedding to witness, that is unless Maxwell marries or their now legitimate children find favorable matches. It's doubtful. As you know reputation is everything in our world. And as they say, no good deed goes unpunished. To gain respectable matches, it's really about the company you keep.” She raised her flute as the room was silent and most looked at Jessica.

Liam tried to withhold a glare to Madeleine as he chimed in, “Yes, but I think we ALL could learn from House Beaumont by not judging someone on their pedigree but instead their merits- A title means nothing if you have no class and honor. There is such a thing called grace and tact and even the highest of noble lack when they seize an opportunity to speak out of turn and look foolish in the process. You know what they say better to have people question your intelligence than to open your mouth and remove all doubt.”

Jessica shook her head as the damage was already done. “Excuse me, and I believe I left something in the parlor.”

Drake and Maxwell looked at her sadly, and Leo and Bertrand glared openly at Madeleine.

Leo mumbled under his breath, "Madeleine, you're a disgusting and tacky human being."

Vineyard…

Jessica rushed outside in the night, tears in her eyes and her lip wobbling as she slumped against a trestle in the vineyard.

It wasn't long before she heard someone's footsteps and saw him come to find her.

“Jess-”

“Liam. Don't. You heard Madeleine, at least one commoner got a wedding. How CHARITABLE!”

Liam growled as he kicked at a rock on the ground, “Forget her, Jess! She is jealous of you. Can't you see that?”

“It doesn’t matter because she is married to you and out of the million and one things I could ever want out of life; number one on the list is marrying you. I just want to be in front of a crowd of people, whether they are noble or just like me, and to tell them how much I love you, and I promise to love you forever. Can't you see that?!"

“She does not have me! Only in writing, but my heart and soul belongs only to you!”

Jessica choked back a sob, “I hate her, Liam. Ruining Savannah and Bertrand's wedding like that. Publicly going after me out of spite she knows you don’t love her but refuses to let you go. But most of all, I HATE myself right now. What am I doing here?! What am I waiting for?!”

He stepped towards her. “Love…”

“No! When will I get to walk down the aisle?! When will you kiss me in front of everyone? When do I get my big day with the love of my life, Liam?” A sob escaped her as Liam rushed forward to embrace her. Tears in his own eyes as he nuzzled into her hair.

“I...I'm trying. Love, I swear to you, I don't care what it takes.”

“And what if you can't? What if I'll always be a dirty secret?”

His eyebrows upturned as he cupped her face, his blue eyes begging her to look at him. “Love, you are not nor will you ever be a dirty secret. You are the best thing to ever happen to me!”

Jessica's lip trembled, and her voice hitched, “Do you...Promise to always feel that way? That you will love me like this and fight for us?”

“I do. One thousand times over, love. I have laid next to you for the past few weeks thinking of what our wedding vows would be.” He leaned down, touching foreheads as he gazed into her eyes, using his thumb to wipe her tears even when his own shined in his eyes. Let me exchange them with you right now in private. From this day forward this is what I vow to you although they started the moment I fell in love with you. ” Liam swallowed a lump in his throat and said, “Jessica, from the moment I first saw you, I knew you were the one with whom I wanted to share my life. Your soul, heart, and mind inspire me to be the best person and sovereign I can be. I promise to love you without reservation for eternity, respect you, honor you, be faithful to you, and share my life with you. I promise to comfort you in times of distress, encourage you to achieve all of your goals, laugh with you and cry with you, grow with you in mind, and spirit, and cherish you for as long as we both shall live. This is my solemn vow to you." Jessica was overwhelmed with emotion, and tears streamed down her face.

“I love you, and I will fight for us. Do you feel this is worth it? I care about your happiness, Jess. More than anything.”

She gave a smile through her tears, “God, I love you, Liam. You will always be worth it. When I'm with you, it all melts away, and it becomes worth it… Liam, here are my vows to you.” Jessica took a shaky breath and said “Liam, today I take you to be my husband and my lifelong partner. Together we will create a home and be bound to one another. I vow to help create a life that we can cherish. I vow to be honest, caring, and truthful, to love you as you are and not as I want you to be, and to grow old by your side as your love and best friend. You are part of my soul and will always be until I am no longer breathing.”

He leaned down to kiss her; sad tears streamed down both their faces as they desperately grabbed for each other. Liam took off his suit jacket and tossed it on the ground, and he gently laid her on it, both trying to find comfort in each other's arms and moaning into their kisses.

Later…

Hallway of Ramford Hall

Liam saw her alone in the hallway and all but cornered her. He glared dangerously down at her as she stared up at him.

He schooled her features as he growled down at her, “What you did tonight, Madeleine, was disgusting. You will not get away with it!”

“What? All I did was state the truth. The Beaumont are known for taking in strays-”

She flinched when he smacked the wall “SHUT. UP.” He lowered his tone to a dangerous whisper. “You are so jealous of her, it's pathetic.”

Her eyes twitched, “Excuse me? How am I jealous of a foreign commoner with nothing to her blood except the Beaumont name? Your favorite subject? I have decades of pure blood and a name that goes back generations-”

He cut her off. “It's evident in your actions. I have an open Cordonian Arrangement clause with non-disclosure to protect her identity and you toed the line today. You just look at her and you are green with envy you forced yourself into this loveless marriage with your actions and refusal to vindicate her. You acted like a child tonight. You are a total embarrassment to yourself and the crown.”

He backed away from her, "She has a family that gives a damn about her, she has found a family that thinks of her as their own, she has my heart and soul. It must sting like hell to see a woman attract so much love when you don't even know what that is!"

She scoffed, “Love, love, love. Is that the only word you know? What does love have to compare to power? To wealth? To status? I have it all. Only when I'm dead will you be free to live your life with her. I won't go freely.  Thank your brother for that the laws are iron-clad. He is a Barrister AGAIN he knows the laws your Father wrote to prevent a divorce. ” She smirked victoriously.

Liam shook his head, "Then you truly are lost. Jessica is everything you could never be and will have everything you never will. You can't even demonstrate restraint. When this is over and I'm free; you better be out of Cordonia go to England wherever as long as you never breath Cordonian air in your lifetime again; you aren't fit enough. Gloating in our faces at the destruction that made it impossible for me and her to be free together. I won't forget it. I will pull the rug right underneath you and strip you of your titles the second I am able to. Blood alone does not make you noble, it is kindness, it is empathy, it is class. And you have none. You just have a title and nothing more. You are shallow and desperate. Pull a stunt like that again, so help you, God Madeline, you will have hell to pay. Your father nor mine will save you from my wrath. I vow you will pay a high price for the crown you stole from here. I am eager to snatch off your head the moment I can. I won't even contaminate the Royal Vault it. I will destroy it and mail you the melted pieces in whatever hell seek refuge.”

*slap*

Liam smirked at Madeleine's assault as her nostrils flared and her hand shook in anger.

He chuckled, “What pitiful attempt to hold on to something that was never truly yours. Now, I will take my leave. The woman I love is waiting for me… And I don't care to converse with the woman I despise. Go enjoy your time with whoever you want. I don't care who. I would say don't make a fool of yourself but that warning comes too late.”

He turned on his heels, leaving her sputtering as he slammed the front door and made his way out to the main hall with Jessica.

[chosenimagines]

Books, books and more books (Dr Spencer Reid)

Universe: Criminal Minds

Summary: Books are for the first time a problem in Spencer’s and the reader’s life

Used Prompts: -

Warnings: -

Language: English

Request: yes/no

Requests [Open]

A/N: This one shot/imagine can be found as well on my wattpad^^

My requests are open on wattpad and tumblr^^

🖊️    🖊️    🖊️   🖊️

____________________________________________

Beads of sweat shined in the sunlight on his forehead and ran down his temples just like the sweat did on my face. The hard work drained our strength. We should have accepted the offer of help of the team! Well... 

I sighed out of frustration. Afterwards one was always wiser. Huffing and puffing Spencer put the box he just had picked down on the floor again. But who could blame him? I couldn't. The boxes were heavy. It was muggy and we barely had space to move inside of Spencer's apartment because of my stuff. I would have put the boxes down again! Anyway, Spencer couldn't put the box any other place. If I was being hones I though about cancelling the move! Especially because it was overwhelming for me. Additionally, we underestimated the amount of stuff we had to move from one flat to another. It was absolutely surprising because Spencer is amazing at assume several amounts. This time -this one and only time- he was so wrong it couldn't have been wronger. Of course, there was a first time for everything! But I wished this first time for Spencer would have happened another time when the physical effort was on the low. The damage was already done and he didn't do it on purpose so it was obvious that I was mad at my stuff and of course not against Spencer. My boyfriend moaned and threw back his head. I felt the same way he just had expressed! "I would have never in my life though that that I might say that but you have many books! Many, many books." That made me insecure. With terror I had to realize how many books I actually owned! He hated them. He hated every single one of them. "I am sorry!", I quickly said before Spencer could add anything to what he just said. "I am so so so sorry!" I just wanted to silence him for short moment. Just a teeny tiny moment! I was really sorry that he had to carry my books! "Why are you apologizing? I am sorry! No one can blame you or your books. I just need some more bookshelves." Oooooh! It was clear to see that I misunderstood him completely. A heat wave starting from my cheeks flowed over my face. That was INCREDIBLY embarrassing for me! But then a matter of fact caught my eye, and my embarrassment was instantly forgotten. “Spence, you don’t have space to put something in here! Not one shelf will fit into your apartment. I mean we can’t even put my stuff in here. How could you think about putting new-” Spencer interrupted me. “I will just give away some books.”, he acquainted me of his plan out of the sudden and my heart stopped for a moment. Was he being serious? My boyfriend couldn’t get rid of any of his dearly loved books because of me! I would protect every single book he owned with my life. Spencer shouldn’t say goodbye to any book just because I was supposed to move in. I would never let this happen! A short, hysterical laugh came out of my throat. “Absolutely out of the question, Dr Reid! You love your books.” “You love yours as well.”, he responded immediately. He wasn’t wrong -like always- but he couldn’t part with his books. It would be wrong! “But your books are something special! They don’t only look intimidating but rather are highly respected and precious and you are a fan of all of those big, popular works! Besides the amount of classics, poetry, nonfiction-” Again Spencer cut me off. “That doesn’t make your books any less worthy!”, he answered, and I moaned. That wasn’t helpful! But in a quick way nothing came to my mind to solve our problem. Spencer’s sudden smirk was quite irritating. I saw on his face that he had a plan, but I couldn’t tell if I’d like or hate it. After all was his first idea in my opinion not his best! But he didn’t bring me into the loop and ran off into his office. God, please protect his books from my boyfriend! I loved them as much as my own. It wouldn’t only hurt Spencer but me as well. Maybe this could keep him from doing so. As quick as my legs were able to walk, I went after Spencer. “Hey Doc, I will promise you that I will defend your books with my life if you give away one of those beautiful babies!”, I screamed over to him. I was surprised when I saw him being on his phone. What did Spencer have in mind?

Exhausted as I was, I fell against the door, and it closed. I shook my head when I looked at my boyfriend who leaned against the doorframe from his office and smiled at me. “You are crazy.”, I made clear. Spencer laughed and shook his hair. “Some people call me genius!”, he giggled happily. “And I solved our problem.” Again, I shook my head. “May I correct you, Genius! Tornado Garcia and her followers solved our problem.” “Correct!”, he concurred with me. What a nutjob! “After one call all of them wanted to help us.” Now I was the one who chuckled. “What would we do without your family…”, I sighed relieved. “Our family!”, Spencer corrected me. My heart stopped for a seconde. Did I understand him correctly? “Come again?”, I quietly said. I barely could hear myself.  But he obviously seemed to understand every word I’ve said. “Our family.”, Spencer repeated. He looked like he was tensed up. “You are an important part of my life! My team counts you already in and to be honest I see you as well as a part of my family.” Spencer got stuck and swallowed hard. “Is that okay?”, he wanted to know. If it was okay, he asked. If it was okay?! A genius who understood nothing. I would have laughed out loud! Spencer Reid was unbelievable. “This is more than okay…”, I whispered. Suddenly Spencer and I were in the middle of the room. Not even a postage stamp would have fit between us. “Are you sure?”, he made sure. “You won’t get rid of me that fast.” My own thoughts brought a smile to my face. “I love JJ way too much to leave!” My lovely boyfriend shook his head as I used to do before. But he didn’t look hurt what was good! He kissed my forehead. “I love you.” My smirk transformed into a soft smile. “I love you.” Suddenly a huge amount of energy went through Spencer’s body. He ran again into the next room and came back with his typical leather bad. Euphoric as he were Spencer took my hand while he pulled me out the door. “And now we will buy new shelves! OH! And we go into a bookstore.” Then Spencer stopped and looked down at me. “Or into three.”, he added. He looked sheepishly. Amused I rolled my eyes as I let him pull me out. “You are definitely crazy!”, I told him. Spencer smirked. “No, only in love.”

[thewhitejournal]

”The Intern”

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

(not my gif)

hey all! so recently i’ve gotten into criminal minds and i may or may not have fallen in love with thomas gibson, so! i decided to write some fanfic about him. please let me know what you think, any feedback is great. like and share if you enjoyed, and let me know if i should continue this as a series! thanks a bunch!

content warnings: none

It was your first day shadowing under Penelope Garcia, a technical analyst at the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico, Virginia. Your dad had some connections to the bureau and got you a special opportunity to see what a day, or rather, a week in the life of a technical analyst at the BAU consisted of.

Technical analyst, that’s been your dream job for what felt like forever; before you knew what the words meant, you knew you wanted to be able to do extensive research on awful people and help put a stop to their doings. Helping people was one of the things you felt you did best. So you were going to make a career out of it.

Stepping over your stacks of clothes and textbooks, you sized yourself up in your floor-length mirror. Your mom helped you pick out some new clothes, and you were wearing your favorite shirt you found while shopping. It was a navy button-up shirt, carefully pressed so there were no wrinkles. It fit your curves right in every way, and the navy complimented your skin tone perfectly. Your eyes travelled to your neckline; a chain with a simple charm hung around your neck, the metal shining in the sunlight coming in from the blinds.

Your fingers played with the charm, twirling it back and forth. It matched the pair of earrings you wore, a hand-me-down set of jewelry from someone in your family, probably your grandmother. You looked yourself in the eyes, admiring your simple makeup. Your hair fell in waves; you fooled with it a bit to make sure there wasn’t a hair astray. Your attention wandered back to your outfit. The black slacks had a piece of fuzz or two on them, and you picked them off, straightening them out. Your mom tried to convince you to wear a skirt, but you insisted pants were more practical. They are, of course.

The only part of your ensemble you might regret is the black pair of heels that were already hugging your feet in a bit of an uncomfortable manner. It was the comprise you made with your mom to not wear the skirt. You had to admit though, they complimented you well. Glancing at the clock on your wall, you saw it was almost time to leave. You grabbed your black blazer, pulling it on and releasing your hair from the neckline.

The keys laying on your table in your apartment jingled as you picked them up. You grabbed your purse and gave the place a once over, making sure you didn’t forget anything. You flicked the lights off, shutting and locking your door behind you, and headed towards the elevator.

Stepping in and pressing the button to the garage, you let out a shaky breath, suddenly realizing how nervous you were. You tried to breathe steady breaths and calm down, but it was hard. Your mind was racing. Would you be any good? Could you handle the cases? Would Penelope like you? What if nobody liked you?

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open, pulling you from your thoughts. You could do this. Probably.

Your heels clicking echoed throughout the parking garage, followed by the sound of your car unlocking and beeping. Opening the door, you climbed in and sat your purse in the passenger seat, sighing heavily. You wish you had some sort of idea of what to expect for today, but it’s like you were walking into a room blindfolded. You slid the keys in the ignition and started the car, pulling it out of the garage and making the short drive to the BAU.

A playlist of your favorite songs spilled through the speakers and filled the air; you thought maybe the music would help you feel better, and it did. But that feeling of bliss ended quickly when you pulled into the parking lot. Turning the car off, you looked out your windshield at the daunting and intimidating building before you. Making one last check of your appearance in the review mirror, you grabbed your keys and your purse and made your way to the front door.

You told the front desk person what you were instructed to by Penelope, and he let you proceed to the elevator. You luckily ended up alone in the elevator, giving yourself some more time to mentally prepare. It dinged, signalling your arrival to the floor you were supposed to be on.

The directions from the elevator to Penelope’s office replayed in your head like a broken record, as to not forget your way there. You tried to keep your head held high, but it was hard to; a feeling washed over you, like every pair of eyes in the room was on you. Maybe that was just paranoia though. You were about to reach her office when an undoubtedly handsome and buff man stepped foot into your path as you passed him.

“I think I’d remember seeing your pretty face around here, got a pretty name to go with it?” He said coyly, raising his dark and thick eyebrows as he spoke, a smirk gracing his face that showed off his incredibly straight teeth.

You stuttered and tried to think of what to say to such a bold question, but Penelope peeked her head out of her office before you had the chance to conjure a sentence.

“Ah ah, Derek. That one’s mine. Leave her be.” She said, looking at you with a kind smile. She waved you over, and you slid past Derek.

“Nice meeting you, Derek.” You called over your shoulder as Penelope practically pulled you into her office. You heard him huff with defeat and say something else before she shut the door behind you.

“But I don’t get your name?” He practically yelled, arms rising and then falling in defeat. He shook his head and returned to what you assumed to be his desk. You and Penelope shared a laugh.

“Hi, honey! I hope sweet-cheeks out there didn’t give you too much trouble. It’s so nice to finally meet you! Your dad’s told me so much about you!” She said to you, extending her hand, the sound of bracelets jingling accompanying it. She was quite bubbly, it was clear to see. Her clothes and office space were colorful and bright; it’s not that it’s a bad thing, it’s just not what you expected to see inside an FBI agent’s office.

You shook her hand, returning the smile she gave you. “No, he didn’t. I was just taken by surprise is all. It’s nice to meet you too!” She took your purse from your hands and sat it on the table closest to the door, next to the purse you assumed to be hers. She gestured to an empty chair that was pushed into the table; it sat in front of a laptop, a setup that looked puny compared to hers. She had several monitors all over the wall and two separate computers set up.

“Your seat, madam.” You chuckled a bit, sitting down. Her personality made you feel more at ease immediately. Maybe she was always like this, or maybe she could tell you were tense. Either way, it helped you feel better, and you were already starting to like her.

“So what I usually do is sit in front of these screens all day and dig up the nasty stuff on the bad guys for our good guys. I’m talking sealed records, CCTV, bank accounts, you name it and I can find it.” Penelope was sat down in her own chair now, waving her hands around as she spoke. You sat silently, listening intently as she continued to tell you what her job consisted of. Suddenly, her door was swung open. A tall man in a suit with black hair and beautiful light brown eyes stood there, looking directly at Penelope. He was holding a file.

“Garcia, we have a case.” His left arm outstretched to hand her the file, letting you be able to notice his shiny watch and wedding band. It was almost like he didn’t even know you were there - at first. His eyes glanced over your way, then did a double-take, when you assumed he realized he didn’t know who you were.

“Hello, I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner. You must be the intern Penelope was telling me about.” His hand reached out to shake yours. You stood to your feet quickly and shook it. His grip was firm and his hands were huge. You tried not to make it obvious that you were intimidated by him, but you tried very hard to not let your gaze fall to the floor. Looking into his eyes gave you butterflies, which was odd. This man was a stranger to you and yet he seemed so familiar.

“Yeah, that’s me. It’s nice to meet you, sir, I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I’m really excited to be here.” You gave him a smile, and he returned the favor, a soft one gracing over his lips. Your hands seemed to be clasped together for a second or two too long, but neither of you seemed to be objected to it. He let his hand fall from yours, and he shoved them in his pocket.

“Well from what I hear from Garcia, we’re lucky to have you. Nice to meet you, (Y/N). And you can call me Hotch.” With that and one last smile to you both, he swiftly shut the door behind him. You sat back down and noticed Garcia giving you a weird look, a smirk on her face. You laughed nervously.

“What?” You asked her, her smile beaming at you.

“Nothing, he just never smiles like that. Especially not since Haley-, well his wife...” She trailed off. Your brows furrowed. If something had happened between him and his wife, why was he still wearing a wedding band?

“Is she-?”

“Dead? No. Staying at her parent’s house with their son? Yes. It’s taken a toll on him, but I haven’t seen him smile like that in forever. We’ll have to keep you around, you’re magic or something, kid. Hotch doesn’t smile for anyone.” Penelope turned to her computers and started typing away, getting ready to work the case you assumed. A blush crept up onto your cheeks. Something told you that you wouldn’t mind staying there a bit longer either.

[spacedikut]

fourth time lucky ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x reader

summary: spencer keeps failing at getting numbers and a very pretty girl is witness to an embarrassing encounter. 1398 words

a/n: my villain origin story is the lie that not everyone is in love with spencer reid

Derek Morgan, you are the bane of my existence. Spencer thinks as the tall girl, long brown hair curled to perfection that shines like it was dipped in glitter, awkwardly scuffles away from the painful conversation.

With a sip of his water, he turns to where Morgan is too busy with three girls to realise that Spencer, once again, failed to impress a random girl at the bar. After fifteen minutes of encouragement from his fellow agent, he was sure his third attempt at getting a number would be successful. Clearly, it was not.

It’s not like Spencer’s desperate. Really, he isn’t. He just sees JJ and Will, Morgan with… everyone, and now there’s rumours of Hotch and this Beth girl… he gets a little jealous. He wants some love, is that so bad? Apparently so, cause he can’t seem to get a number to save his life. No matter his approach, whether he goes with the Morgan-esque pickup line or pet name (which he hates and simply cannot pull off), or the Hotch just-smile-and-they-fall-in-love route, he can’t win. No name, no email, not even a fake number!

“That.. was painful.” A voice says.

With his shoulders hunched, Spencer turns to face the mysterious voice and is faced with a very attractive girl, who sips a very red drink through a straw. He resists profiling her (“profiling a girl at a bar is not sexy.” Garcia voices rings out) and instead takes in her appearance as innocently as possible.

She’s gorgeous. Spencer immediately gets nervous.

“Not well-versed in the language of love, huh?” She teases. Her smile is bright in the dim room, and it makes her eyes sparkle – Spencer knows it’s the alcohol making her eyes glassy, but it’s beautiful regardless. He wouldn’t mind getting lost in them.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Like I said, painful.”

They both laugh. She sticks her hand out, Spencer winces internally, and she introduces herself. Y/N. When Spencer just stares at her hand and opens his mouth to spew about germs spread through handshakes, she beats him to it.

“Not a toucher?” When he lightly shakes his head to indicate no, she shrugs casually, unphased. “The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to kiss, so I get it."

Spencer almost falls off his stool in surprise – did she really say that? He stares, eyes blown and mouth slightly ajar, and it sends Y/N into a panic. Why was he looking at her like that? Did she make him uncomfortable by mentioning a kiss? Why did she say that? Does he think she meant they should kiss? Why would you invite a stranger who literally just tried to hit on the girl next to you to kiss? Why-

“I didn’t mean- I didn’t mean we should kiss. Even though we’re in a bar, and two of my friends have already gone home with strangers, the third probably grinding on one right now, I didn’t mean we, us, two strangers, should kiss. I’m sorry. I’m drunk. I’ll be quiet now.”

“No- no. I didn’t think you meant… we should kiss,” Spencer hesitates, “The pathogens thing. I’ve said that before.”

With an ohhh, Y/N visibly relaxes.

“Did you hear the whole conversation?” Spencer scratches his neck, “Between that girl and I?”

“The whole thing.” She grins.

He groans and pulls an uncomfortable face, “Yeah. I’m not good at this stuff, I don’t know why I bother. See that guy over there?” Spencer points to the table Morgan sits at, still surrounded, and Y/N nods, “That’s my best friend.”

“No way.”

“Yup.”

“He’s got game.”

Spencer laughs. “He’s been trying to teach me, but he can’t help it that he’s a magnet. I’m hoping he didn’t witness possibly the most embarrassing encounter of my life, so that leaves just you and that girl to remember it.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve seen worse-“ She pauses, and looks at Spencer is shock. “You didn’t tell me your name.”

There’s butterflies in Spencer’s stomach when she asks and, although he knows its common courtesy to ask for someone’s name, he can’t help but get excited at the thought that she wants to know his name for some reason other than decency.

“Spencer.”

“Spencer. Nice.” Y/N surveys the room, “Where are your other friends?”

“Probably at home.” Spencer wonders if she’d be weirded out by his perfect recall of what she said her friends were doing (two gone home with strangers, one grinding on stranger somewhere in bar), so he cautiously says, “All your friends are.. busy?”

Y/N chuckles, “Yes. We’re celebrating a breakup, so they’ve gone all out. I’m.. treating myself to too many Bloody Mary’s.”

Spencer’s interest in piqued, “You’re celebrating a breakup?”

“It’s a long story. My friend’s cheating ex got dumped by the girl that was way too good for him, so we’re honouring her with drinks.”

“Fun!”

Y/N beams and Spencer notices how her eyes scan his face. He’s not sure if this is the first time she’s done it (it’s not) and blushes profusely, hoping the dim lighting works to his advantage. Despite initially being terrified by her looks, she’s got this warmth to her. It’s obvious that the alcohol has helped her loosen up a little, allowed her to be more herself, and Spencer feels honoured that she’s talking to him out of everyone in this bar. Now, if only he could gather the courage to…

A figure tumbles into Spencer and Y/N is instantly in action, a “whoa!” jumping from her kissable lips (Spencer blushes again at that thought), and swaying before the pair is another pretty girl who is considerably more drunk than Y/N. From the way Y/N’s brushing her hair back and asking her if she’s okay, Spencer assumes this girl is one of the friends.

The girl mumbles something and is clearly too drunk, and Y/N is no longer relaxed, affable, instead slinging one of the girl’s arms around her shoulder and turning to Spencer with a grimace.

“I’m really sorry to do this, but could you help me drag her to a taxi? I’m weaker than I look.” There’s a joking lilt to her words. Spencer agrees immediately.

With Spencer’s help it doesn’t take long to carry the dead weight of a blacked out girl outside, and they both visibly sigh when they place her on a bench outside the bar. Y/N hails a cab fairly quickly, and Spencer panics.

You can do this. Spencer thinks. If you let this girl go I will be so mad at you Spencer Reid.

After a little struggle Y/N’s friend is stretched out in the back of the taxi. Y/N closes the door, checking she hasn’t hit her knocked out friend, and turns to face Spencer, brushing a few strands of hair behind her ear.

“Thank you, Spencer. This definitely isn’t how you planned to spend your night, but I appreciate it so much.”

The sincerity in her voice nearly makes Spencer physically buckle over.

“You’re welcome. I-uh,” Spencer touches his throat nervously, “Talking to you was way more fun anyway. Guess I’m glad that girl rejected me.”

Y/N giggles. It’s infuriatingly adorable. “It’s her loss. Trust me.”

There’s a pause as he stares at her, and she bites her lip. Ask me, she thinks.

“Can I have your number? To make sure your friend survives, of course.”

Tension flies from Y/N’s body and Spencer can’t help but profile her – she wanted him to ask her. And now he has, she happily reaches for her phone and reads out her number. She asks him to text her right then so she has his number, too, and Spencer is ecstatic – Morgan won’t believe this! Spencer’s got game, too!

When he finally sends Y/N and her friend off, Spencer wishes he had the confidence to maybe hug her, but he decides he’ll save that for the first date.

“Reid! You dog!”

Morgan’s stepping out from the bar, surprisingly no girl on either arm, and Spencer grins goofily.

“I did it. I got a number.” He waves his phone at Morgan who slaps his shoulder.

“I saw! I saw. I’m so proud of you, pretty boy. She looks like a damn princess.”

Spencer twirls his phone in his hand, worrying his lip as he wonders if it’s too soon to text you already. “Yeah. She’s pretty great.”

[ohheyitsokay]

ebb and flow

this takes place in my ‘poly frontier’ universe

pairing: Will “Ironhead” Miller, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, Francisco “Catfish” Morales, Ben “Benny” Miller and a female reader 

wordcount: 3.3k

warnings: all fics in this series are 18+, poly relationship domestic, romantic, and sexual intimacy. strong language, both implications of sex and brief explicit sexual content

note: this is set earlier in the relationship than “just a day” when there’s more they’re still figuring out

>>

Will, of all of them, had the hardest time with sharing you. It wasn’t that he didn’t agree – that it worked and was good, it’s just that he couldn’t stop… counting.

He wanted so badly to be steady for you. It made him fill with pride, almost shining with it when you called him your Ironhead. It was his pleasure, his joy, his job to be your rock, the best thing to come out of locking his heart away.

But he knew you liked it when he opened up, too, trusted you with the parts of himself that he was still figuring out. That was what he should do, whenever his vision blurred green, but it seemed petty and stupid.

At times, they each had to reign in their instincts to be possessive – you were theirs, after all. For Will it was small moments that piled up, stuck in his head like glue, coagulating until it was a jealous monster, growling and glaring and over-reading every moment.

You gave Ben and extra long hug. 3 seconds longer and a squeeze too. There was 11 minutes of his date with you that was wasted on the phone helping Santi with something. Twice in the last month he bumped into Frankie leaving your place when he arrived. That amounted to at least 6 minutes of conversation before he could go in and see you.

But the thing was, he couldn’t be mad, not at them for wanting you as badly as he did, or you, for doing your best to be enough for them all, and that left only one person. Himself.

You noticed, of course you did. He was your Ironhead - discerning and level and selfless and thoughtful. Of course you could tell when he yanked you a little closer, eyes flitting to the clock on his wrist or tapping his fingers, antsy, impatient. Counting. And you knew he would blame himself, for stupid reasons. Frankie noticed too, always the one who saw right through the other’s words, straight to their minds, their hearts. The two of you talked to Santi and Benny and as expected, neither of them even thought to complain. They knew him too, leaned on his strength in their own ways.

It made you feel giddy, the secret as you called his work and charmed them into letting him off early, as your other lovers made themselves scarce.

He came home confused – until he saw you sitting on the counter wearing his shirt. There was a second he froze, processing, and the next he was in-between your legs, mouth on yours and hands ghosting over your waist like he didn’t know if it was real. His kisses were firm, in stark contrast to the insecure tone of his voice as he asked, “How long?”

How long do I get you, until I have to give you up again?

You slid your hands from his hair down the sides of his face, thumbs in his beard, over his chest, before slipping them into his front pockets.

“As long as you want, Will.” His eyes had been watching your movements appreciatively, but they snapped up to meet yours.

“Really?”

He sounded happy, but a little disbelieving. As much as you enjoyed building the sexual tension between you, you moved to wrap your arms around him, trying ground him like he always did for you.

Your yes went into his beard. And he hugged you back, understanding, before gathering you up into his arms and off the counter. They were waiting for his okay, giving him giving him the gift of an uncountable evening.

And if he wasn’t going to be undistracted by counting down the minutes, he had plenty of better things to apply himself to. He whispered thank you to your into your skin 7 times, that night.

-

Towards the beginning, Santi struggled with the appearances of it. He hated having to explain himself, would honestly prefer it to never come up, but of course that was impossible. Hated not being able to take you out without knowing there could be judging, misunderstanding eyes on the back of your neck.

In his heart, it wasn’t as selfish as it sounded – it’s not that he wanted to be the guy who “won" or anything like that. He just wanted to show you off, take you places, do things with you. Splitting your time, or getting enough of them to organize something just made things messier, pulling his relationship with you out of his control.

So one evening, when the all of them were off for various reasons, you knew he’d be at a bar, pouring over case files he didn’t want to bring home.

It was easy, sliding up behind him, trailing your fingers over his broad shoulders before whispering in his ear.

“Hey, handsome,” and he turned. He knew it was you, of course he did, but when he looked at you, any words he had got caught in his throat before he swallowed them. You were wearing a little outfit he had never seen, a little bolder and a little sexier than you would normally choose. Bits of lace poked out in all the right places, and you tried not to beam with pride as his eyes darkened and raked over you.

“You look like you know how to show a girl a good time,” you added, introducing yourself to make sure he caught your drift. Gently, you fiddled with the hem of his shirt, the waistband of his pants, twirling your hair like you were really flirting with him. His beautiful jaw clenched a little, clearly thinking, and you knew you had him hooked. He couldn’t resist.

“Have we met?” it was sweet, watching him try to play it cool, like he wasn’t already rock hard for this, for you. You could feel it, as you pressed between his legs, and thanking your stars he’d picked a stool. His hands hovered a hair’s width away from your waist, waiting, and you only tortured him a moment longer – fingers just dipping in his jeans – before you confirmed.

“Not tonight.”

His grin was cocky, confidant and contagious, and you knew this was a good choice. Part of him surely wanted to drag you somewhere he could kiss you like he knew would make you wrap your legs around him, but the game , the opportunity was far too tempting. When his hands gently pushed you onto your own stool, and he bought you a drink with a Santiago Garcia, nice to meet you, you knew. It was indulgent, to spend the night flirting and falling in love like a “normal" couple and Santi couldn’t help but help himself.

There was a look in his eyes, even as he asked you questions he already knew the answers to, that was full of fire. It burned into you, possessive and powerful and a calculated level of restrained, and you felt light as ash, overwhelmed with the intensity of him.

For that, you were more than happy to play along.

-

Even before the very first kiss, Frankie liked to be the one who fixed your car. Or the one who helped clean up, or the one who opened the jars.

His ability to provide was the sword that parried his fear that he wasn’t enough for you, for any of you. And it seemed like an okay solution - every moment of self loathing for his mistakes countered with grateful smiles and relieved shoulders. He liked feeling like he was making the world better, making life easier for the his loves, liked the idea that he was in control of the value of his contributions.

And it would have been easy for you all to let him provide – he loved doing it, after all, but it was important that he knew that you didn’t love him because of his provision. He was your Catfish, worthy not because of the things he did, but because who he was.

You told him so, a day he insisted on grocery shopping and you insisted on joining him. When he heard you, a muscle in his cheek jumped and he almost dropped the melon he was holding. It didn’t sink it, you could tell because he brushed a kiss to your temple and thanked you without meeting your eyes.

It was hard to talk about because he was good at providing, and that in itself wasn’t a bad thing. Scanning the isles with purpose he knew what brands to get what everyone liked. Frankie had sharp eyes and ears and knew you all better than you knew yourselves.

As you followed him, and added your own observations, he took them gratefully and you knew it wasn’t going to be a single, grand moment that his mind understood, and that was okay.

You spend the evening kneading his back, his muscles jumping underneath your hands. When he murmured about needing to go read over something for Ben, you settled on his lumbar, wishing your knees were anchors and pressing kisses into his shoulders, promising it could wait. Telling him without words that he was allowed to enjoy the moment without earning it.

It made you smile, that you didn’t mention anything to the others, but they didn’t take advantage of him either.

If he came home with groceries, someone else would put them away, and the others would cook. When his eyebrows dipped and he offered to clean, you would gently, gently herd him out of the kitchen.

Any day of the week he looks through his bag and smile in spite of himself, overwhelmed with how you adore him for seemingly no reason. His gloves replaced, extra of his favorite snacks, or the occasional photo he had to hide from his coworkers. They’re consistent little reminders, telling him sternly that he is the reason and that is enough.

Together you fortify him from the inside out, a beautiful balance of accepting him for how he loves and matching it, reminding him the burden of provision is not on his shoulders alone. That what his does is a gift you all cherish, but who he is defined your love.

And when his hand is in your hair, and you’re kissing the inside of his thigh, knelt between his legs, you know he understands.

“You’re so handsome,” you murmur, sliding up to lick along over the bone of his hip. Santi is behind you, and you feel him murmur his agreement against your neck. Your Catfish tilts your head up to look at him, and his brown eyes are warm and pleased and just a touch greedy.

“Show me,” his voice rasps, as though the words are foreign on his tongue and the selfishness of it half catches him off guard – he leans into it. You don’t see, but you’re sure the others catch it too – the gradual disappearance of transactional love.

Frankie provides for you, and you, for him.

-

It was predictable, maybe, but an honest problem, that both Miller boys had a relationship with you.

Will had always been the star, hair like sunshine and eyes like the ocean, first child and first pick on every team he’d tried out for, and even a couple he hadn’t.

Ben, your Benny, outgrew him in height, but the swathe of the shadow still choked him at times. Especially when it came to you, his darling girl, his biggest fan, and the absolute love of his life. How could he keep up with Frankie, a man who provided for you as naturally as he breathed, or Santi a living, walking hero, right out of the movies? How could he keep up with his brother, the man he’d looked up to since he could see?

He picked hobbies and girls and careers his brother didn’t, almost couldn’t see how much he glowed on his own, and he ached for you, to tell him. Remind him that you chose Benny. Not as a backup Will, or an off-brand. Not out of pity or convenience or greed.

And you did, because he wasn’t – not to you.

You needed him, had a love for him the others couldn’t provide. It was part of your love to be intentional with each of them: reaching for him, rewarding him with gasps of his name alone, but that wasn’t always the total of what you wanted to communicate.

So it worked out perfectly one night, you even plan it.

Ben woke up to one of you hands over his mouth, the other on his thigh, rubbing circles high on the inside. It felt like a dream, hazy and delicious, but your voice in his ear dragged him awake. It’s just me, shh, get up! Your tone was… needy, so thick with your arousal he would’ve been halfway to hard without the teasing of your hand. Swinging his long limbs, he focused on your hands, now tugging him insistently all the way down the stairs to the couch, still too drowsy to quite comprehend what was happening.

He could do one thing without thinking, though, so his mouth pressed into yours and you nearly toppled before pulling him down with you, grinding into him as you explained.

“I – oh! – I was dreaming about you,” you pulled away from his kisses to draw your tongue down the column of his throat. “Needed you, Ben,” you added, as if that wasn’t abundantly obvious. It occurred to him that you were keeping your voice quiet, like you didn’t want the others to hear.

“Dreamed about us, baby?” he thought he misheard, his strong hands pulling your core into his, too impatient for your moans to wait until you were both undressed.

“Oh fuck,” you wriggled against him, fighting to say words. “No, Ben, just you,” you barely managed it, but then he paused, still as a knockout.

Now he was wide awake, your words sinking into his skin like a brand, hot and sharp.

“Just me?” his deep voice was clear, like misunderstanding would kill him, and you mimicked his stillness, pulling back to look him in his sweet blue eyes.

“Yeah Benny,” a chaste kiss, as earnest and honest and raw as he was. He knew your tells, as well as he knew his own – you wouldn’t lie to him. “Just you.” Your smile, even in the dark of the living room was adoring, and the one he shot back was bright enough to light up the room.

It crashed into him, his sharp mind processing it all at once. You dreamed of him. Woke up, pulled away from his brother, slipped past the handsome other men who called themselves your lovers and brought him, alone, to bring you your pleasure. It didn’t just make him proud – it made it feel real how much you loved him, needed your Benny. Nothing more, nothing less.

Then your world spun, and he was on top of you, palming your breast through the shirt you were wearing. He was reveling in it, basking in it the reminder like oxygen in his blood. Once he made sure you were comfortable – ever the sweetheart – he cradled your jaw, eyes clouded with intensity and a lust thick with love.

“Let’s reenact it then, shall we?”

-

It was insane, overwhelming, and positively daunting, the idea of pleasing, loving, existing with four men. The very concept of balancing your care for each of them in every aspect of your lives.

Of you had loved each of them any less you couldn’t have done it, wouldn’t have even tried.

What were you doing? How selfish could one person be?

Wouldn’t then be happier in the long run if you would just choose?

It haunted you, the months spent on sweet dates and awkward moments and nervous laughter at the beginning of your relationship. The five of you took it slow, their bodies acting like walls, guarding you as much as you could from the whispering voices.

Reassuring voices came in many forms, and for awhile, it was more than enough to keep your doubt at bay.

And when the relationship progressed to physical intimacy, at first you thought it was gone – you could do this. You could make it work.

The more comfortable you all got with each other, the arrangement, the more exhilarating you assumed the fucking – the lovemaking – would be.

But sometimes things didn’t happen like you assumed they would.

You were hovering above Frankie, your Frankie, his dark eyes blown wide with pleasure, his cock half inside you as you slid down his length. Hands anchored to his chest, you breathed slow breaths, wondering at the anxious feeling that was bubbling up inside of you. Behind you, you could feel the warmth of Will’s chest, his cock gently grinding on your backside, hands on your hips by Frankie’s, his thumbs rubbing lines into your skin.

It was strange, the brush of his beard by your ear, as he rumbled, “Do you have one more for us, baby?”

It should have been delicious, the feel of them, their words and touches and the gazes of your other lovers as they settled nearby, but all of a sudden, it was too much.

Shrugging, you shuddered.

You didn’t even have time to find the safety word in the fog of your mind, Frankie pulled you off of him, concern written on his face as you sunk to a rest on the thick of his thighs. The movement of Will’s his ceased as his hands increased their soothing circles.

“It’s – I’m fine,” you gasped, coming out of your daze, embarrassment and panic rising in your throat. Shaking your head, trying to clear it, you reached for Frankie’s length, wanting to apologize for keeping him waiting.

Buying yourself time.

“Hey, hey,” Santi, your Pope, caught your wrists, worry lines etched into his forehead. “Slow down,” he instructed, and you shuddered again. He could be commanding if he wanted to, but he rarely told you to slow down.

“I’m sorry,” you said, hands still occupied by his, feeling helpless.

You wanted to cry.

“Sorry for what?” Benny’s voice wasn’t as gentle as the others, lacking the practiced murmur, but it was exactly what you needed. It was so practical, so genuinely confused, you huffed in laughter and it was the first real exhale in long moments. His blues found yours, the dip of his eyebrows confirming his sentiments – you did nothing wrong.

You felt Will’s sigh as he coaxed you down onto the mattress, but as he pulled you into his arms, you realized he wasn’t disappointed in you.

“Should’ve known,” his annoyance was at himself, for getting too caught up to notice your signs. “This is too much, isn’t it?”

“It shouldn’t be,” you grumbled, still feeling embarrassed, trying to sit in the narrow space between him and Frankie.

Benny laughed, and even Santi cracked a smile when he spoke.

“Taking four fucking dudes in one night?” He gestured around at their bodies, looking at you incredulously. They were all solid, handsome and formidable, nothing to be taken lightly on their own, much less together.

You flushed.

“I just need a bit of a break, and then we can try again,” you offered, and Frankie joined their smiles, his worry lowering with your stress, and bumping his forehead into yours. Sliding off the bed, Santi was shaking his head as he went off to the bathroom.

“We can if you want, love,” Will pushed Frankie away just enough to kiss your temple. “But trust me when I say we’re good.”

“But –”

“Babe, it’s been three fucking hours,” he said with a squeeze. That seemed a bit generous, but you smiled.

Your lovers were looking at you, and you knew them too well to deny to satisfaction on their faces. They were relaxed, already sliding closer to all fit on the bed, tossing hastily discarded clothes into the hamper, exchanging content smiles and confirming touches.

Santi returned with a handful of damp rags and a small pile of blankets, saying, “We have time.” He really did seem unbothered, having already pulled on a pair of sweatpants. The cloth was warm on your skin and you knew what he meant. Whatever it was, that the five of you had, was just budding, really. 

“Yeah, and it’s not like we’re not going anywhere,” Benny added, leaning against Frankie’s pillow, and the knot came fully undone in your chest.

You settled back in their arms, cherishing the moment as the stickiness was whipped away.

They were right.

Together, you could do this.

<<

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[arctic-comet]

Osblaine week 2021, Day 2: Lyrics

Over the last several weeks, I have carefully curated a playlist for Osblaine. The final total length of the playlist is 2 hours and 53 minutes.

The playlist can be found HERE

Click "Keep Reading" if you're interested in the introduction, commentary, more graphics and the full tracklist.

For full disclosure, I have to give some of the credit to my amazing fellow Osblaine fangirls @dystopiandramaqueen, @splitscreen and everyone who participated in a certain conversation for the original inspiration and even bringing up some of the songs.

You should look at the playlist in five parts: one section for each season that's aired and one section for the future (because I like to end things on a hopeful note).

The playlist contains a lot of the following:

Music from movie and TV soundtracks

Instrumental music

Remixes

Classics and covers of classics

Country music. I blame Florida. My sincerest apologies.

Some of the songs were chosen because they reminded me of a certain Osblaine scene, and some of them aren't specific to particular scenes but chosen for the general Osblaine vibe. And most of the movie/TV music I chose have been used for couples that remind me of Nick and June.

Part I- Season 1, first 12 songs of the playlist:

Forbidden Love- Abel Korzeniowski, Jasper Randall, The Hollywood Studio Symphony (Romeo & Juliet)

Fireflies- Owl City

Echoes in Rain- Enya

My Ghost- Glass Pear (Bones)

Daring to Hope- Anne Dudley (Poldark)

Everytime We Touch- Cascada

1000 Times- Sara Bareilles

Too Good At Goodbyes- Sam Smith

In Case You Don't Live Forever- Ben Platt

To Find You- Cast of Sing Street, Brenock O’Connor

She- Elvis Costello (Notting Hill)

Miracle- Instrumental- Cö Shu Nie

Hanging By A Moment- Lifehouse

Commentary:

The first instrumental song IMO works as an intro for their entire love story.

The next two songs are more about having the right vibe. It's a little ambiguous and dark because that's how their life is in Gilead.

Leave my door open just a crack

Please take me away from here

'Cause I feel like such an insomniac

Please take me away from here

Why do I tire of counting sheep?

Please take me away from here

When I'm far too tired to fall asleep

***

Wait for the sun

Watching the sky

Black as a crow

Night passes by

Taking the stars

So far away

Everything flows

Here comes another new day

Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah

***

"My Ghost" is June's POV before they sleep together, wondering if she can trust Nick:

Who can you trust, in this place?

And whom can I put my faith?

If you're real, then show me now,

Who you are

The last two songs are for episode 1x10, for both Nick’s reaction to June’s pregnancy and the beginning of her first escape attempt (arranged by Nick).

She may be the face I can't forget The trace of pleasure or regret May be my treasure or the price I have to pay She may be the song that summer sings Maybe the chill that autumn brings Maybe a hundred different things Within the measure of a day

Part II- Season 2, next 10 songs:

Love Will Keep Us Alive- Eagles

So Easy- Phillip Phillips

Incomplete- James Bay

Rewrite the Stars- The Piano Guys (The Greatest Showman)

I’ll Be Your Shelter- Taylor Dayne

Love Never Fails- Brandon Heath

P.S. I Love You- 05:11- John Powell (P.S. I Love You)

It's A Girl- Mychel Danna (The Time Traveler's Wife)

I'll Stand By You- Josh Groban, Helene Fischer

The Miracle of Love- Eurythmics

Commentary:

The first four songs cover June’s escape attempt and the time they share at the Boston Globe.

"Incomplete" is Nick's POV from when she's on the run and he knows she'll be gone from his life soon. He lives in the moment.

I don't wanna look down

I don't want us to break up in the clouds

All I want is to stay us, to stay with you now

"I'll Be Your Shelter" is for when June's mental health is at its lowest point and he goes to Serena to beg for her to get June help.

What you need is a friend to count on

What you got baby you got someone

Who will stay when the rain is fallin'

And won't let it fall on you

P.S. I Love You takes me back to episode 2.09, Nick’s selflessness in the episode and of course the scene where after telling June that Luke loves her, he tells her that he loves her too, despite believing she probably doesn’t feel the same way.

It's A Girl makes me think of the beautiful moment they share during June's false labor when he helps her out of the van and they climb the steps together.

I’ll Stand By You is for 2.10, Nick holding June after she was heartbroken over Hannah and over what the Waterfords did to her and clinging onto him.

Part III- Season 3, next 6 songs:

Extremely Loud And Incredibly Close- Alexandre Desplat (Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close)

All I Ask- Adele

Never Enough- Loren Allred (The Greatest Showman)

I Don’t Wanna Live Forever- Taylor Swift, ZAYN (Fifty Shades Darker)

Love is Gone- SLANDER, Dylan Matthew

Constellations- The Oh Hellos

Commentary:

For obvious reasons, it was extremely difficult to pick songs for this season.

The first (instrumental) song is for the beginning of the season with June coming back to the Waterford house and them then saying goodbye to each other on the street.

All I Ask, Never Enough, I Don't Wanna Live Forever and Love Is Gone are for their night together in June’s room at Lawrence’s (the one we didn’t get to see sigh). They know it's possible it's all they'll ever have, and they'll take it, but it'll never be enough.

I will leave my heart at the door I won't say a word They've all been said before, you know So why don't we just play pretend? Like we're not scared of what's coming next Or scared of having nothing left

Look, don't get me wrong I know there is no tomorrow All I ask is

If this is my last night with you Hold me like I'm more than just a friend Give me a memory I can use Take me by the hand while we do what lovers do It matters how this ends 'Cause what if I never love again?

***

All the shine of a thousand spotlights

All the stars we steal from the night sky

Will never be enough

Never be enough

Towers of gold are still too little

These hands could hold the world but it'll

Never be enough

Never be enough

***

I'm sorry, don't leave me, I want you here with me

I know that your love is gone

I can't breathe, I'm so weak, I know this isn't easy

Don't tell me that your love is gone

That your love is gone

"Constellations" is for their long separation and the doubts that I'm sure plagued them both during it. Would they ever see each other again?

Part IV- S4, next 12 songs:

All of Me- John Legend

(Everything I do) I Do It For You- Bryan Adams

Iris- Natalie Taylor (City of Angels)

She Was Like A Bright Light- Hans Zimmer, Rupert Greyson-Williams (Winter’s Tale)

Noah's Last Letter- Aaron Zigman (The Notebook)

What’s In The Middle- the bird and the bee (Bones)

ivy- Taylor Swift

Footprints in the Sand- Leona Lewis

Remember Me (Lullaby)- Gael Garcia Bernal, Gabriella Flores (Coco)

On The Nature Of Daylight- Max Richter

My Heart Will Go On- Basil Jose (Titanic)

The Story- Sara Ramirez (Grey's Anatomy)

Commentary:

There were sooo many songs I wanted to include in part IV, but I controlled myself and ended up with this particular dozen.

"She Was Like A Bright Light" and "Noah’s Last Letter" are an instrumental double punch to the gut for Nick’s time in Gilead during episodes 4.07-4.09. The first one is meant for when he finds out June made it to Canada, and the 2nd for is for when he starts to gather info on Hannah to give to June.

"What’s in the Middle" and "ivy" are June’s POV of episodes 4.07-4.09.

"What's In The Middle" has more of an angry and confused vibe, and June was definitely both in episodes 7 and 8.

Losing your head is such a common theme

All your brains are falling out, falling out the open seams

Where is the heart, is the heart of the matter

I will empty out my skull of all this useless chatter

On the other hand, "ivy" has this haunted vibe, but there's also reverence and acceptance, which she begins to achieve in episode 9.

Oh, goddamn

My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand

Taking mine, but it's been promised to another

Oh, I can't

Stop you putting roots in my dreamland

My house of stone, your ivy grows

And now I'm covered in you

The next three songs are of course all for their reunion in 4.09, and I couldn’t resist including the song that was actually played in the scene.

"The Story" draws the season to a close nicely, with June understanding that her current needs are different from what they used to be and that there’s someone who understands her completely (and it’s not Luke).

You see the smile that's on my mouth

It's hiding the words that don't come out

And all of my friends who think that I'm blessed

They don't know my head is a mess

No, they don't know who I really am

And they don't know what I've been through like you do

And I was made for you

Part V- Season 5 and Beyond, the last 6 songs

Secret Love Song- Little Mix, Jason Derulo

Burn With You- Lea Michele

The Bones- Maren Morris

Feels Like Home- Auli'i Carvalho, Keegan DeWitt

Love Will Find A Way- Piano Covers (Lion King II)

Like I'll Never Love You Again- Carrie Underwood

“Secret Love Song” is a more angsty tune about a love that’s still kept a secret like June and Nick’s love (as far as most people are concerned). Now that they’ve already made out in front of the man who raped and abused June and made Nick watch him do that, I want to believe they can let go of the secrecy in S5, at least when it comes to a few people.

I'm living for that day Someday Can I hold you in the street? Why can't I kiss you on the dancefloor? I wish that we could be like that Why can't we it be like that? Cause I'm yours, I'm yours Why can't you hold me in the street? Why can't I kiss you on the dancefloor? I wish that it could be like that Why can't it be like that? Cause I'm yours Why can't I say that I'm in love? I wanna shout it from the rooftops I wish that it could be like that Why can't we be like that? Cause I'm yours Why can't we be like that? Wish we could be like that

***

“Bones” is about a relationship with a strong foundation, which IMO they do have. It will carry them in the future, too. They’re more into each other now than ever before and especially June is coming to terms with how strong that love is. They’ll weather any storm.

When the bones are good, the rest don't matter

Yeah, the paint could peel, the glass could shatter

Let it break 'cause you and I remain the same

When there ain't a crack in the foundation

Baby, I know any storm we're facing

Will blow right over while we stay put

The house don't fall when the bones are good

***

“Feels Like Home” is more hopeful. Their home is with each other and I hope that’s something that will be explored more in the future.

Take me, I'm ready

Go slow but go steady

To a place that we can call our own

I wanna know what feels like home

***

“Like I’ll Never Love You Again” is a good conclusion for the playlist. It’s hopeful and a testament to an epic love.

I wanna love you like the rain on a roof

Stronger than a bottle of a hundred ten proof

I wanna take love to places that love has never been

Yeah, I wanna love you like I'll never love you again

And I'll love you again

Oh, and again