#so yeah i'm probably going to try and make some more gifs over the next days?

[jaeyunnz]

"I'll be a good boy."

jake + f¡reader ❤︎

WARNINGS: sub!jake, dom¡reader, making out, begging, dirty talk, sucking him off, grinding, unprotected sex (don't do it stay safe.) jake calls reader mommy. whining and pet names.

Note: Sorry if this sounds rushed in anyway.

this is proofread !!!! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

jake has a fever and goes to the doctor for medicine — he gets prescribed with a pill that makes him feel extremely horny and comes to you for help.

Jake has had a fever for a week or so, and its been getting worse. Eventually he took your advice to go to the doctors — and check out whats wrong. When he got back home at night, your met with a tight back hug which causes you to jump slightly. You didn't even realize Jake got home yet.

Hes always been a bit touchy, but today feels different. when you finally lift your head up to look at his face, he’s blushing profusely, pupils dilated and panting a bit. "sorry... i missed you." he mutters out, "i-i took medicine from the doctor for my fever, but now i feel so weird." he whined.

As soon as you open your mouth to speak, Jake accidentally presses himself against you, your body smooshed on the counter. "Jake...?" he buries his face into the crook of your neck and inhales deeply, letting out a soft, whimper. "mhmm?" he mumbles against your skin, his hands tightening on your waist as he pulls you closer, his hips still grinding slowly against your backside.

"What did the doctors prescribe you with baby?" You breathe out, trying to suppress a moan. he pulls back just slightly, pupils blown wide as he stares intensely into your eyes. a dazed, weak smile curls his lips. "i dunno... feel so fucking loopy. doc said this cold med's potent shit."

"Maybe you need some rest?" his gaze drops to your lips, a shiver running down his spine. his growing bulge twitches against you while he leans in closer, breath ghosting over your mouth. "maybe... but i don't wanna sleep right now." He slightly rocks his hips back and forth against you.

You bite your lower lip, gripping on the counter. "I think it's best if you do. You'll probably feel better—" before you can finish your sentence, jake lets out a whine pitifully, brows furrowed as he stares pleadingly at you, pupils dilating further. "pleeeeease don't leave me. i'm fucking baked, can barely think straight." he grips your shirt, desperate.

"How else are you supposed to get better then?" You say softly as he nuzzles his face against the back of your neck, placing his hands on the counter to cage you in. "i-i dont know..." he whimpers softly, "all i know is i need you to touch me. somewhere, anywhere... please." Your eyes widen when those words slip out of his mouth, unsure what to do.

You want to keep encouraging him to get some rest, because maybe that'd help him have a clear mind. But his pleading eyes and whimpers — its hard to say no.

"Jake i don't know. I really think you just need to sleep this off." he looks at you with wide puppy eyes, frowning. "n-no please, i don't want to.." his hands grip your hips, pulling you against his hardness more, eliciting a small gasp from you. "p-please.. i'll be a good boy i promise.. — i promise."

You give in — the begging too tempting. The next thing you know you find your hand sliding down to grope and rub his bulge, causing a sigh of relief to escape his lips. "mmph.. yeah there baby. touch me there." He gasps out as you trace circles against the fabric, his legs shaking slightly.

His mouth is wide open, watching you stroke his clothed dick. He leans in and presses his lips against yours, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. The kiss is soft and sloppy, his tongue lolling out to lick at your lips. You let out a quiet moan, slipping your hand into his jeans and continuing your gentle strokes.

He gasps against your mouth, his tongue immediately takes advantage of your parted lips, slipping into your mouth to tangle with yours. The kiss is messy, filled with soft moans and gentle nips. Slowly, his hands slide down to grab your ass, pulling you flush against his hardening bulge. "m-mmph... baby, i want..." he whimpers, unable to finish his sentence. "Want what baby? Use your words." he looks into your eyes with lust. "w-want... to be inside you.."

You bite your lower lip, unsure what to do. Jake still has a fever and is way too weak to take charge — usually hes the one to lead, but not today, not when hes sick. This is new to you, though your quite enjoying it.

"Come," you whisper out, pulling back from Jake. You grab his hand, leading him upstairs to the bedroom. Once you both get inside, the door slams shut. "Sit on the bed," you order, Jake doesn't question and follows you, plopping on the edge of the bed. You make your way over to him, hovering over his lap and he looks up at you, moving his hand up to place on your hip.

You slowly lean down and start leaving trails of wet sloppy kisses down his neck, sucking and biting the skin, leaving a few purple — red marks. He whimpers out, already arching his back, though all your doing is kissing his neck.

The kisses get lower, now down to his chest and stomach before you reach the ground, on your knees. Jake looks down at you and his breath hitches when he sees your eyes darting to his belt, he knows what your about to do and his cock throbs violently against the fabric of his jeans.

"Take them off." You say, he nods and begins to undo his belt with shakey hands. Hes so needy for your touch that he cant even take his belt off properly — hands fondling with it. Once he finally gets it off, he throws it on the floor. His bulge is now clearly outlined in his jeans, a wet spot forming at the tip.

"p-please.." he whines out as your hands reach up to help pull his jeans down along with his boxers, lifting his hips up to help you do so. When his dick finally springs free, you see pre-cum already leaking from the reddish head, twitching slightly. "Please what baby?" a smirk appears on your lips. Your enjoying his begging a bit too much.

Jake bites down on his lower lip, "suck it please." He bucks his hips up slightly. "Ah ah ah," you murmur, his gaze meeting yours. "I said please what? You have to ask nicely." he swallows hard, unsure what you mean, "i-i did... i said please—" you cut him off when your hand wraps around the base of his cock, he lets out a gasp from the sudden touch. "Your forgetting something baby. Whats my name?"

His eyes widen, understanding what you mean. He hesitates for a moment before whimpering out, "m-mommy, please suck my... my dick." His face flushes, looking away embarrassed. This was his first time ever calling you that — but it turns you on.

"Good boy." You give his dick a few strokes before leaning your head down, kitty licking the red tip. He rolls his eyes back, digging his nails into the bedsheets, trying his hardest not to shove his cock down your throat. Your soft lips wrap around the head fully, Jake's head tilting back from the sudden warmth and wetness. You slowly take more and more of his length down your throat, gagging a bit from his big size.

When you begin to slowly bob your head, he lets out a loud moan, bringing his hand down to grab your hair and pull it up into a ponytail so it wasnt in your face. This made you move your head up and down his cock at a faster pace, gripping onto his knees for balance as he fills the room up with his desperate whines and whimpers.

Your mouth stretches to accommodate his size, drool dripping down the sides of your lips. Jake thrusts his hips forward, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat, causing you to gag and choke slightly. You moan around his length, sending vibrations through his body, his back arching from the feeling. "fuck mm... im gonna cum." He breathes out heavily before you pull his cock out of your mouth, not wanting him to cum just yet.

"why'd you stop baby?" He frowns before you slowly sit onto his lap, he lets out a gasp when you do so, the fabric of your pants pressing on his exposed cock. "I want you to be inside me before you cum," he bites his lower lip, changing the position by picking you up and laying you down on your stomach, pulling your hips up. "you'll let me fuck you?" He says softly as you nod, grinding your hips up and down against him and pressing your ass firmly on his bare cock. His body stutters when you do so, digging his nails into your hips. "t-thank you mommy... thank you."

Your eyes roll back slightly from his words and movements, He watches you slide your shorts down, poking his tongue against his cheek while you pull your panties aside, giving him better access. He gulps hard, sliding his hard cock partway through your wet folds. He growls softly, "shittt. y-youre so wet baby.." His eyes snap to yours, seeing you toss your hair back and spread your thighs wider. Hes desperate and cant wait any longer so he lines himself up and shoves inside you hard, making you cry out and gasp from the sudden gesture, no warning at all.

"A-ah jake—" He silences you with a deep, hard thrust, his cock hitting your g-spot immediately. He starts pounding into you ruthlessly, not caring about being gentle. "fuck, your pussy is so tight..." He whimpers, seeing your head throw back in pleasure. You arch your back fully against his thrusts, mouth slightly opened. The loud moans spurs him on so he grips your hips harder, spreading your legs wider to get in deeper, your breasts bouncing with his rough thrusts, "m-mm.. feels so fucking good..." your body shakes with each of his movements.

He feels you clenching tightly around his length, knowing youre close. You shove your face into the pillow, muffling your loud moans and screams of pleasures. "J-jake i might... cum—" He hears your words and grabs your hair, pulling your head back while his other hand reaches down to rub your clit roughly. "cum for me... cum on my cock right now."

His words were enough for you to reach your climax. Jakes eyes roll back as he feels your walls tighten around him. He fucks through your orgasm, prolonging it. "fuck, fuck..." He grabs your breasts roughly, continuing to thrust deep inside you. He watches you throw your head back in ecstasy, your pussy still spasming around his cock. He pinches your nipples hard, eliciting another moan.

"f-fuck... you're taking my dick so well. taking every inch mommy..." He keeps pounding into you, feeling his own release building. Your eyes tear up from the roughness and pleasure, biting down on the pillow sheet. With a deep grunt, Jake buries himself deep inside you, his cock twitching violently. "fuck, im cumming..." he gasps, whining out, "im cumming!" He pumps load after load of hot cum deep into your cunt as you let out a loud squeal, your hips shaking violently.

The both of you collapse onto the bed. His eyes drop to your body, seeing his cum leaking out of your pussy. He spreads your legs wider, watching his load trickle down your thighs before slowly pulling out, making you both moan from the loss of contact.

He then gently nuzzles his face into your neck, cuddling you into his arms, "t-thank you mommy, i feel better.." You giggle tiredly at him, out of breath. "I'm glad baby. You should get some rest though, hm?" He nods, hiding his face in your chest, embarrassed.

💘: thank you guys so much for 1000+ notes on tasting tempations and 200 followers !!!! 🥹💕 IM SEEING ALL YOUR REQUESTS AND I PROMISE ILL GET TO THEM IMMEDIATELY <3

[chaussetteblanche]

and they were roommates pt. 3

pairing : Spencer Reid x fem!student!roommate!reader summary : life on campus with a killer on the loose, the FBI makes an arrest word count : 2k warning : canon-typical violence, swear words (one use of the f-word) A/N : thank you so so much for all the love on this story !!! I'm so glad you all enjoy it <333 I'll probably do a part 4, it may be the last part, idk yet :)

part 1, part 2, part 4

"Spencer, I realise your concern, but lots of women look somewhat like this." It wasn't lost on Spencer what Hotch was trying to do by calling by his first name. "Hotch, she- she could be right next to them. She fits his type right down to the colour of her eyes!" "Spencer, man, you need to think rationally." Derek placed a hand on Spencer's shoulder. "Lots of women have that hair colour and length, it's in style right now, right Emily?" "Yeah, definitely." "Look, I just- I need to make a call."

When Spencer had called you sometime in the evening, you'd been expecting him to tell you he was going to come home late and to not wait up for him. What you weren't expecting was for his voice to be the most serious and stern you'd ever heard it. "Don't go outside until I come home, okay?" He knew it was entirely irrational. The unsub only took women in broad daylight, you weren't facing any more risks than usual. But he couldn't take a chance. Not with this. Not with you. "What? Why?" "Just- I'll explain everything when I come home, I'll be there in a couple hours, but please, don't leave the apartment. And make sure everything is locked." "Spencer, what's going on?" "Can you just-" He paused, forcing himself to remain calm. "Look, do as I say, please. I'll explain everything later, I promise." You hesitated for a moment. Luckily for you, you weren't working at the bar tonight. Luckily for Spencer, you liked him enough to indulge him. "Okay." "Thank you."

"Oh my God, no, absolutely not!" "Y/N, it's for your safety, don't you understand that?!" "My safety? What about my life?"

This was the first real fight you'd ever had. You'd had disagreements, of course, he didn't like you leaving your empty cups and glasses all over the place. You told him off for waking you in the morning by making too much noise. Sometimes you'd get jealous if Geoffrey slept in Spencer's bed rather than yours. Yes, you'd had your fair share of arguments, but none quite like this.

"I'm not asking you to give up your life, you're being totally-" You scoffed loudly, interrupting him. "Spencer, you might as well! Do you realise what you're suggesting I do? You want me to give up on going outside, not go to any of my classes, not see any of my friends, not go to work, don't you see what bullshit that is? It's putting a cross on my social life, my education and my work!" You gesticulated angrily as you speak, feeling heat rising to your face. "I already told you, it's for your own safety." He sighed loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. He wasn't even looking at you. A tiny, tiny piece of you wanted to slap him. "I will not stop living my life because some psycho thinks it's fun to kill innocent girls! I won't!" You crossed your arms over your chest and resisted the urge to stomp your foot.

"You're being incredibly childish right now." You hated how he managed to stay calm. You wanted him to get just as angry as you were, livid even. It wasn't fair that you were the only one getting upset. "Are you making all the girls who look like me give up everything for the sake of their safety?" Your tone was mocking and mean but you didn't have it in you to care at the moment. He met your eyes at last, lips turned downwards into a frown. Finally, some sort of emotion. "Don't do that, Y/N," he warned in a low voice. "No, I think it's a valid question. Is your boss making an announcement to the press that all the girls in Mary Washington University who look like the three last girls should stay inside? Is he?" you pushed. Spencer looked away from you again, shaking his head in disbelief at your attitude. "No, he isn't."

"Then why do you expect me to do that?!" You threw your hands in the air, beyond frustrated. For a logical person, Spencer's behaviour wasn't making any sense at the moment. "I don't expect you to do it. I want you to do it, I need you to do it." You could feel his calm facade breaking, piece by piece. "Why, Spencer, fucking why?!" "Because!" He finally exploded, jumping to his feet and slapping his palms onto the table. You didn't jump. "Because it's you, Y/N! I can't work this case if I know you're in danger every single day! If I know yours could be the next dead body students ogle at on the university's front lawn! If I know it's your picture they're going to hang up next to the other victims! I just can't do it!"

Oh.

You let yourself fall down on the couch, running your hands over your face. You were both stepping into uncharted territory. You'd tip-toed this line before but had never crossed it yet. And this was not the way to do it. You were not going to cross the border from friendship into something more by screaming at each other. Spencer seemed to read your silence as distress.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell." He softly trudged over to the couch and sat down next to you. "No, it's okay, I- I kind of wanted you to. I'm sorry for getting so upset." You take his hand in your lap and intertwine your fingers. "I understand, I'm asking too much of you, it's selfish." He gives your hand a squeeze. "I just can't stand the thought of anything happening to you." You sit in silence for a little while, processing.

"I just can't hide while I wait for other girls to be killed, Spencer, it wouldn't be fair." Sometimes, Spencer hated how good of a person you were. If your morals and personal ethics were some of the things he liked about you the most, he couldn't help but curse them in this moment. "I don't care about fair," he mumbled, hating how puerile he sounded. You cooed and laid your head on his shoulder. "I know, I'm sorry."

"I won't promise you anything, but I'll try to always be with someone around campus. I'm usually with my friends anyway. And I can share my location with you all the time if that's reassuring for you." "I'd like that, thank you. And... what about when you're at work?" "I can ask Paul to walk me to my car." Paul was the manager at the bar you worked at, Quantequila. His past was a mysterious blend of prison, MMA fighting and crochet clubs. He liked you plenty and you knew he wouldn't mind walking you to your car for a while. "Thank you."

Over the next week, you did just that. Many students started moving in groups and avoiding being alone at all costs after the FBI released the profile and the pictures of the last victims.

"We're looking for a local white man, early twenties. He may have moved here a year ago, we figure he's either in his first year of BA or MA. This is someone you don't notice, he's shy and introverted, he doesn't participate in class and he won't talk to people if he can help it, especially not women. This man is a loner and does his best to be invisible. We think he stalks his victims for a while before attacking them, so if you start seeing someone you've never seen before in strange places, please notify us. My name is Aaron Hotchner and you'll find the hotline on the screen you're watching this on."

You always had at least two friends with you whenever you were roaming about on campus. Though no one really spoke about the situation, the energy had changed. People were becoming tense and suspicious. Friends were fighting over who should accompany who, when and where. A place which had once gathered so many motivated and joyous students now had those very people looking over their shoulder.

You hated it.

Truly, you didn't want to underestimate this killer, but you were getting tired of it all. You'd wish the BAU would just catch him, but, as Spencer had explained to you multiple times, they had incredibly little to go on. What you knew without him telling you was that they needed another victim to predict his next move. Still, you were a person who appreciated alone time and you had gotten none in the last 10 days. So, when two of your friends who were supposed to walk with you from your class to the subway bailed on you, you weren't that upset.

You put your headphones on, listening to your favourite song of the moment and started walking. You had a tendency of getting lost in your thoughts and didn't notice the sound of heavy footsteps following your own over your music. What you did notice though, was the reflection of someone walking close behind you in a cafe window. You looked over your shoulder, frowning. The sun was in your eyes, blocking your vision, but you managed to perceive an average-sized man with long-ish black hair which hung around his face in greasy strands. Not thinking too much of it, you continued on your way.

You didn't think too much of it when you saw him sitting a few tables away from you when you were studying one afternoon at the library. You were captivated by the Middle English poem under your eyes, wondering what the author had meant with the particular use of the kenning "earth-cave". When you looked up and caught his eyes, cold and unnerving, you didn't overthink it. There were some weird people on campus. Who were you to judge?

When you saw him at your grocery store, though, that was when you started worrying. You were picking up a box of After-Eights for Spencer when you saw him looking at oatmeal raisin biscuits. What really tipped you off was that no one really liked those, so he must have been pretending to look occupied. A chill ran down your spine as all the other places you'd spotted him came back to you. Your lecture hall, the cafeteria, sitting in the lawn under a tree, the main hall,...

You decided that the next time you would see him, you'd tell Spencer. You didn't want him to worry if this turned out to be nothing. Maybe the man was just an exchange student? Or had joined during the academic year?

Two days later, the FBI made an arrest. A man named Ben Colton fitted the profile exactly. In his dorm room, they'd found pictures of women who looked exactly like the last victims and of resembling women on campus, you were part of them. You didn't know that, Spencer had felt you didn't need to be aware of that specific detail. The only problem was that the BAU had no physical evidence tying him to the crimes yet. The arrest had been sanctioned by higher authorities while physical proof was searched for. Police dogs and officers had been tearing through all of his possessions while Garcia had gone through his entire online life. Nothing tying him to the murders had been found.

The general public knew nothing of this, of course. To them, someone getting arrested meant they could go on with their usual lives. The man you'd been seeing left and right had left your mind entirely as you celebrated your regained freedom with your friends.

Of course, Spencer had warned you. They were 99% sure this was the unsub, they just needed the evidence. That didn't eliminate the 1% chance it wasn't him. But 99% chances were good enough for you. You trusted the BAU. Specifically, you trusted Spencer. With your life.

So you started living your life normally again. You left for class a little later because you didn't need to walk with your other friends. You stopped sharing your location with Spencer. You put the volume of your music higher again. You started leaving your pepper spray at home. You started texting while walking again.

Needless to say, you were wholly unprepared for the violent blow to your head as you walked to class one morning. How ironic, you thought as you blacked out, that Mary Goldman had probably experienced the same thing exactly two weeks prior.

Taglist : (all of you who asked for a part three <3) @princess-ofthe-pages @usuck @theylovemelody @empressgraytea @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @lillianacristina @venomsvl @user-3113s-blog @pumpkin-cake @redros3y @faunrasthewinterelf @puppykinsthepotato @bookishnerd1132 @bonza-bear @teeshamcbeesha @hades-disappointment-child @princesssparkle2024 @darlingcharling-blog @yasmin12312 @khxna @jamieeboulos

[ithebookhoarder]

Hello hi ! 🤗

Can you do a "bau reacts" when they are undercover in public and about to be found out so the reader just starts making out with them to pretend they are just a couple?

(BAU Headcanons) Making out Undercover

A/N: Mwahaha. Oh, this is a good prompt. Thanks for making me daydream all afternoon. Enjoy my lovelies 😉 Also, as a note, I'm writing the main BAU where I'm at watching it (season 13) plus Luke as he was requested previously 💕

Warnings: Mentions of threat, mentions of weapons, alcohol references, sexual references, implied cases / unsubs. (Let me know if I missed any)

Aaron Hotchner

We know Aaron doesn’t go undercover for most cases, so this would have to be a big case to get him into the field. 

This man would be in shock. Let’s be real. He would freeze in place and try to argue for a split second until he realises what you’re trying to do and why - even if you were already together. 

As soon as they’re gone though, you’d glance up and see his usual steely glare that tells you you’re in for a scolding once this is over. 

However, you’d have to be blind to miss the way he lingers for a moment, holding you close for half a second longer than necessary. 

“I feel I should remind you that we are in the field, and whilst it may have worked, I can’t endorse it as a tactic in future. Understood?” 

“So I’m hearing that we’re leaving this off of our case report then?” 

“Agreed. I don’t need to give Strauss anything else to use to go after us and the team.”

He would roll his eyes and take off after the Unsub, but you’d have to be blind to miss the way he smirks as he goes. 

David Rossi 

He’d be a little embarrassed but mostly quite smug about the whole thing, even if you were supposed to be undercover. 

“Well, I can safely say in all my years in this field I don’t think that’s ever happened to me before.” 

He’d also refuse to let you apologise for your actions afterwards either. 

One, because he’s kind of flattered. 

Two, because he’s been around the block a few times and knows that sometimes you have to do what it takes to solve a case or protect yourselves. 

Three, you were supposed to be a couple and kissing is what couples do. He’s only sour because if anything he would have liked to be the one who kissed you. 

“Relax about it, would you? I won’t tell you some of the things Gideon and I had to do back in the old days. That was before all this new paperwork and guidelines, so that’s all I’ll say on the matter.” 

You make a point of remembering to ask him about that at your next night off over drinks. 

Derek Morgan

Derek is always up for anything so I feel like he’d be pretty relaxed about being undercover with you, even if you weren't together romantically. He has no issue playing your pretend boyfriend for one night, and is quick to wrap his arm around you. 

Which is why it would be such a surprise to him when it’s you who initiated the kiss. 

Derek would freeze for like a second, but only out of shock. However, you know he wouldn’t fight you on it. 

The second his brain catches up to his body he would be kissing you back, doing everything in his power to match your energy and sell this kiss. 

If anything, you’re going to have to be the one to break away once the coast is clear and remind him you’re still technically in the field and that your team is probably wondering where the hell you are right now - and why you stopped responding to your comms. 

“I’m just saying, if we get to do that then we need to be partnered up more often.” 

“Yeah yeah, Morgan. Let’s just hope Penelope didn’t see that else we’ll never be hearing the end of it.” 

Emily Prentiss

She’s been undercover plenty of times in her life and spent a whole chunk of time actually fake-married to Doyle for an op, so she’d be the most comfortable and understanding if you grabbed her for a kiss - especially if you were meant to be a fake couple. 

She’d work it out pretty quickly and would respond in kind, pressing herself against you and running her hands all over you. 

“Quick thinking with the kiss,” she’d whisper as she brushed a kiss against your neck. 

She’d also know exactly where the Unsub is afterwards too, having kept watch in her peripheral vision. 

She wouldn’t even have to break eye contact with you before she informed you, “3 o’clock. He just left out the fire exit.” 

With that, she’d be off. 

She also probably wouldn’t even bring it up again until you’re both back on the jet. Then she’d be smirking at you across the top of her drink and chuckling to herself. 

“Normally I’d insist dinner first but given that we caught that bastard I think we’re even.” 

JJ

JJ knows about going undercover and it takes a lot to rattle her. She would probably go along with the action, even if she’d stay kind of stiff for a good minute or so. 

However, she’s a good agent and knows about maintaining a cover so quickly catches on when you pull her in. 

She’d return the kiss, shooting glances out the corner of her eye when she thinks it might be safe to check on their target. If it doesn’t look like they’re buying it, she’ll turn things up a notch and spin you around so that she could take control. 

“My gun is under my jacket. Reach for it slowly if he comes any closer,” she’d warn, but thankfully you don’t need it. Eventually they leave, distracted by something else, leaving you and JJ to recover.

After catching your breath, you both take off in the direction your target just left in. You can tell JJ is trying not to laugh about what just happened, choosing to make it funny rather than uncomfortable if you weren't together romantically.  

Which means you know she’d enjoy teasing you about it in front of the others, making your cheeks burn as she announces on the jet: “For the record, even though it was a ‘cover kiss’ it was pretty good. Just saying. Maybe you should give Morgan some tips. That way he might get a girl to call him back after a first date.” 

Luke Alvez

It doesn’t matter if he’s ex-army or whatever. Undercover is not really Luke’s thing and even then, he is more used to infiltrating gangs than playing house. 

Basically, he would be surprised by your actions, despite being undercover together. Like, I can see his eyebrows hitting his hairline so fast, bless him. He’d look like a deer in headlights. 

“Woah, sweetheart, slow your roll-“ 

“- Luke. Shut up and kiss me. Now.” 

“I - ok.” 

Just like that, he’d take control, turning and pressing you against the nearest wall in an attempt to shield you from whoever was watching. He’d also be such a gentleman about it if you weren't already together romantically, keeping his hands on your waist and pulling away the minute he’s sure the danger has passed. 

Even then, he’d wait a minute before letting the two of you move from your position, just in case they come back. He’s your partner and he’s returning the favour for you keeping him safe, even if in an unsuspected manner.

“You good?”

“Luke. Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I was the one who planted myself on you.” 

“Potato, po-tah-to. Are they still over there?”

“No. They just left out the back.”

“Then let’s go, partner. Let’s catch this freak.” 

Penelope Garcia 

If Penelope is in the field then you know she is already hella nervous and out of her element. It doesn’t matter if there was a reason she was needed for this particular assignment, she would just take that as added pressure not to let everyone down.

Which is why I’m sure you’d feel worse about planting one on her - even if it does also help distract her from worrying for a minute.  

All I can imagine is her giving her trademark squeal of confusion and surprise, even if you gave her a hasty warning - and apology - about what you were going to do.

She’d be stunned at what was happening and probably takes a minute to realise she should probably try and kiss you back, or at least look less visibly startled about it. 

“I feel I should point out how unfair it is that this is permitted as ‘suitable workplace behaviour’ as we’re undercover, yet my flirtatious texts with Agent Morgan are not? I will be writing a strongly worded email when we get back, telling HR they can go shove their-”

“Pen? Hey, focus here. Unsub still watching us.” 

“Oh, right. Sorry! Ahem… as you were?”  

Also, you know that like a day or so later, once it’s all over, she sends you an email informing you that your new username on the BAU system is now ‘smoochykins’ and she will not change it until it becomes not-funny for her… which will probably be never. After all, Morgan has been ‘Chocolate Thunder’ for the last two years and is still going strong.  

Dr Spencer Reid

Spencer has been undercover before and is usually quite calm about it, even if it is faking a date or maintaining a story. Still, despite having to do your jobs, you’d hate to make him uncomfortable, knowing how he feels about any kind of physical contact - especially if you're not together. 

As he says, with the amount of bacteria shared by shaking hands you’d be safer kissing … guess it was time to take it literally. 

He’d be blushing like a tomato as you grab his jacket lapels and pull him close. And honestly? it’s kind of adorable. As is the way he tries to kiss you back, even if he still takes a minute to remember how to even move his body. 

I’m just picturing the Lila kiss in season one and how he eased into that and how stunned / embarrassed he seemed afterwards. He would pretty much be like that, but with a fake smile on his face as he rambled in your ear. 

“What was that?”

“I was covering our asses. We’re undercover, remember? We’re supposed to be a couple and couples kiss. Also, I’d thought you know, genius, that kissing and displays of public affection make people extremely uncomfortable.”

“No kidding… Morgan can never find out about this.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice. You got a deal, pretty boy. This is between us.” 

Masterlist

[bangtan-junkie]

Dissonance (Part 1) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (f)

Part 1, Part 2

Genre/Tags: coworker!JK, enemies to lovers, smutttttt, slow burn (ish?), ANGST

Word Count: 5744 words

Synopsis:

Your coworker, Jungkook, got on your nerves. While everyone saw him as sweet and charming, you saw his true (annoying) colours that lay beneath. It was no secret that you hated him. No one knew that more than him. But a night out, drinks in your system, and a girl flirting with Jungkook in front of you might bring up some uglier feelings and be Jungkook's last straw.

Note:

lol sorry I'm not great with synopses. but yeah this is rly just angst and filth enjoyyy. part 2 soon hopefully. also would love requests or feedback so lmk

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as Jungkook spoke. Jungkook was a newer employee and the whole office knew you didn't like him one bit. He was a kiss-ass and there was nothing you hated more than a kiss-ass. Not only was he a kiss-ass, he was also annoyingly good looking which only made people like him more. While you were busy busting your ass for work and cleaning up after other peoples' mess, he was able to get anyone to do whatever he wanted with a flash of his smile. To top it all off, nearly every woman in your office threw themselves at him - even the senior ladies. You couldn't stand it. Watching them twirling their hair, putting a hand on his chest as they laughed at his every word, it made you sick. What was worse was watching him flirt back - seeing him check them out, grab them by the waist, or whisper in their ears. Everything about him made your blood boil and you refused to give him an easy time like everyone else.

Jungkook was fully aware of your disdain for him. He didn’t miss how your eyes rolled when he walked into the room, or how you avoided him like he was the plague. He paid no attention to it at first, trying his best to charm you as he did with your peers. But every smile, joke, or conversation was shut down. He thought it wouldn’t bother him, but with each passing day, every scowl, every eye roll, and every glare, he felt his irritation growing. But he refused to give you the satisfaction of knowing that he cared about your opinion. Instead, he tried his best to show you that you had no affect on him at all. With every insult you threw at him, he turned it around and threw a cheeky, flirty comment back at you. He only did it because he knew it would piss you off even more. As amusing as it was, his frustration was building up as you pushed his buttons.

Unfortunately for the both of you, you shared a social circle at work because you were in the same department. As if you didn't get enough of each other at work, you were occasionally forced into seeing each other outside of work when your coworkers decided to go out. Tonight was one of those cursed nights as your group agreed to go out for drinks after work. So you sat at the end of the booth, downing your drinks faster than you probably should, watching one of the girls attempt to seduce Jungkook in the booth. You tried to focus on the conversation happening on the other side of you but found your mind wandering back to the two of them. She was practically in his lap by this point and had unbuttoned a few buttons of her top. Jungkook's arm was snaked around her waist while his other hand lingered along the hem of her skirt. You downed your next drink, trying to drown the burning sensation you felt in your chest. It was certainly drowning your common sense in the process, your head already beginning to feel fuzzy. The girl was asking stupid questions and resorting to plain flattery in an attempt to flirt. Your already bad mood from work combined with the drinks you were powering through was quickly worsening your mood and making you more bold.

"You're so sweet," she giggled, "No wonder everyone likes you over in your department."

"Not everyone," you mumbled under your breath with a roll of your eyes. Jungkook rolled his own eyes and ignored you but the girl looked over at you confused.

"Sorry?" She asked.

"Don't be. I was just agreeing with you. Jungkook is soooooooo sweet," you mocked, looking directly at him. She gave you a strange look and turned back to him.

"Looks like you're famous with all the ladies," she smiled, playing with his tie.

"Oh you have no idea," you laughed to yourself. Jungkook closed his eyes in an attempt to calm himself down and avoid reacting. "His reputation exceeds him," you giggle. This time she gave you a dirty look and ignored you.

"Too bad you're not in our department. You'd be a sight for sore eyes," she raked her eyes over him and winked.

"That's about all he's useful for, you should take him really," you grumbled. That was Jungkook's last straw. He finally turned to you, acknowledging your existence.

"Are you serious right now?" He glared. Your stomach flipped as you finally got a good look at him - tie loosened, sleeves rolled up, and fury swimming in his eyes. Yeah, the alcohol is definitely getting to me - you thought to yourself. You just shrugged in response.

“Get up. Now,” Jungkook demanded, voice low. You rolled your eyes but complied and slid off your chair as Jungkook slid out of the booth. As soon as you were up, you were being dragged away with a tight grip on your wrist, . He took you to the far corner of the bar, out of sight from the booth everyone was at. You rubbed your wrist in pain when let go of you.

“What are you doing?” He asked. You noticed the tick in his jaw as he clenched it. It made his jawline look even sharper. Dragging your gaze away from his jaw back to his eyes, you gave him a questioning look. “Don’t play fucking dumb right now,” he belittled. Your stomach dropped at the insult.

“I know you’re celibate, but I’m trying to take this girl home and fuck her brains out,” he sneered.

You gulped. Something about this Jungkook was doing something to you. He never got angry with you. He always had a witty remark for every insult you threw his way. Seeing him like this was different; it was more real than his cocky facade. His brows were furrowed and he was glaring at you like he wanted to grab you by the neck. Fuck he looks so hot. Normally you would never let yourself think that, but the alcohol swirling in you was clouding your judgment. Fortunately, you were still sober enough to hide your lustful gaze.

“I’m trying to save the girl from a night of disappointment and misery,” you snickered. Your answer only seemed to anger him more. He stepped forward and you took a step back. His annoyance was written all over his face. A few more steps and he’d backed you against a wall and caged you in with a hand placed next to your face. You had never been so close to Jungkook before. Was he always this handsome? You could only stare up at him and hope he didn’t notice how turned on you were.

“We both know you don’t believe that,” he said, leaning down, his face way too close to yours. “You think I’m such a man whore right? Surely you don’t think I have these women coming back just for my pretty face?” He mocked you. You felt your face flush. “Then what is it? Why are you cockblocking me?”

You weren’t completely sure why you were acting the way you were. Watching that girl press up so close to him, whisper in his ear, laugh at his every work - it made you sick. Yet you couldn’t look away, you watched as he flirted so shamelessly and your stomach swirled with disgust.

“She’s fucking stupid. She fell for you. Really I’m doing her a favour.”

“Why do you care Y/n? Just because you don’t want me, doesn’t mean other people don’t.”

“Because they look so dumb fawning over you,” your gaze was hazy, “all they see is how ha-,” your eyes trailed down to his pretty lips, having the little sense to cut yourself off before saying what you were going to say. “They’re always the same; flipping their hair, laughing at your dumb jokes, climbing into your lap. And you eat it up every time.”

Jungkook’s brows furrowed for a moment before he scoffed.

“What, are you jealous sweetheart?” He joked dryly. “Wish it was you instead?” He asked, trying to annoy you and fully expecting you to get angry. Turns out, it worked. Something fiery and ugly crawled through your veins as the words left his mouth, making you feel hot. You couldn’t face what the feeling was - just knowing Jungkook was making you feel something so dark was enough to stop your train of thought. You refused to become one of those girls...you couldn't.

“You know what? Never mind, you guys are perfect for each other,” you mumbled while quickly slipping under his arms. The possibility of you being jealous was sobering. It cleared your mind enough to know you should get back to the table. Enough to see how dangerously close to disaster you were. But just as you made it a foot past him, he pulled you back, pressing your back against the wall. His gaze was different now - dark and piercing. It held you captive, like a deer caught in headlights. You couldn’t look away and neither could you pull out of the tight grip he had on your arm.

“What, that’s it? Not even gonna give me shit for that?” He questioned. The words were meant to be teasing but instead they sounded angry, nearly spiteful. His mind was racing as he put the whole picture together but refused to believe it. Embarrassment replaced the ugly feeling clawing up your throat, making your body burn up. His gaze became too intense and you had to look away. But he was not going to make this easy for you. He grabbed your jaw and forced you to look at him as he patiently waited for you to say something, to deny what he was thinking. This was a whole new side of him that you were seeing for the first time. What was worse was that some part of you liked it. Your embarrassment reached a new height as the tension grew thicker between you. You wanted to scream, to run, to get as far away from Jungkook as you could - anything but admit this new found truth. Tears threatened to wallow in your eyes as the unease began eating you alive. But you forced them back, refusing to embarrass yourself any further. After several moments of silence from you, Jungkook let go of your jaw and scoffed in disbelief.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” he uttered, bewildered, before hanging his head. The short moment gave you reprieve, a second to breathe again now that he wasn’t looking into your soul. Your mouth opened to say something, anything to redeem yourself, but shut when you couldn’t think of anything. Then Jungkook was chuckling, which turned into a laugh that made his shoulders shake. It wasn’t a joyous laughter. No, it was mocking, cruel.

“This whole time,” he started, his laughter dying down as he looked at you again, “I thought there was an actual reason you hated me.” He straightened his back, now towering above you, and moved closer. He was looking at you like he was going to eat you alive. You quickly avoided his gaze, choosing to stare straight ahead at his chest instead. One of his hands came up to tangle in your hair before he yanked it, forcing you to look at him again. You couldn’t help the moan that left your lips as he pulled your hair. It only fueled that hunger in his eyes.

“All this time, you just needed to be stuffed full of cock huh? Needed me to fuck the attitude out of you?”

The words immediately sent a rush of arousal to your core, leaving you breathless. If it wasn't for the little bit of pride left in you, you would've jumped him. Jungkook watched as your eyes filled with lust and anger as you steeled your resolve. He quickly glanced around to see if any of your coworkers were nearby before grabbing your wrist and dragging you into the washroom. All you heard was the door locking before you were pinned to the wall.

“Come on Y/n, I wanna hear you say it. Tell me you're jealous. Tell me you want to be in my bed instead of her,” he growled, getting more bold by the second. You gulped, struggling to contain your reactions.

"Shut up," you spat out, finally finding your voice. "Go fuck her for all I care." You gave him the best glare you could muster up. Jungkook's eyes lit up with the challenge you presented, but the dark glint in them made you nervous. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head with one hand.

"If you're gonna lie, at least do it well," he taunted, his breath hitting your lips.

"I don't care what you do Jungkook. Just let me go" you whined, straining your wrists in his grip. He only tightened his hold on you, hiking your wrists further up the wall and forcing you on your tippy toes. His sheer strength was slightly jarring as you were left helpless in his grip.

"Yeah?," he scoffed, "then maybe I should go back out there and pick up where I left off." You felt your stomach drop at his suggestion. Some part of you deep down wanted more. But an even bigger part of you couldn't stand the thought of enduring more of him flirting with that girl.

"She's a bold one, you know? She kept pushing my hand up her thigh, closer to where she really wanted it," he teased, voice low.

His hand trailed along your waist, over your hips, then down your thigh. Your breath hitched at the gentle touch. His fingers brushed along the hem of your skirt, which suddenly felt too short. You couldn't seem to peel your eyes away from his tattooed fingers that threatened to slip under your skirt. Your heart pounded in your chest as thoughts of what else his hands could do flashed through your mind. Taking advantage of your silence, he continued.

"She's filthy, she would've let me touch her pussy right there at the table," he groaned. "Could've had her riding my fingers in front of everyone, trying her best to stay quiet." You shot him a glare, finding the thought repulsive - unless it was you he was touching of course. "Would you rather I leave you here and go do that?"

"Fuck you," you answered with a little too much anger and disgust. It was obvious that you cared, and you hated that. Jungkook raised a brow, a satisfied smirk dawning his lips.

"I'll take that as a no," he mused, fingertips dipping under your skirt, ghosting over the inside of your thigh. You let out a shaky breath.

"I didn't...I mean...," you stumbled over your words, trying to find an excuse. You didn't want him to have the upper hand. It hurt your ego.

"Come on, use your words Y/n. Tell me why you don't want me to go," he patronized, waiting to hear your answer. His fingers continued to trail upwards, making you fluster more. You ignored his request, hyperaware of his touch. If he moved his fingers any further up, he'd be able to feel your arousal and the thought was mortifying. He'd never let you live it down.

"Jungkook," you gasped, getting higher on your tippy toes in an attempt to get his fingers a little further away.

"Yes?" He answered, intrigued by the sudden flustered expression on your face.

"Don't...your fingers," you managed to say, squirming under him.

"What about them?" He asked, stilling their movement but dug them into the flesh of your inner thigh. You closed your eyes and muttered a prayer under your breath.

"This isn't appropriate.." you said shakily, staring at the his hand disappeared under your skirt. He scoffed at your words.

"Not appropriate?" he chuckled. "You know what else is inappropriate? The constant belittling and insults you throw my way." The amusement dissipated from his voice. "The way you humiliate me in front of everyone is inappropriate Y/n," his words pierced you. The internal battle between guilt and arousal you were feeling left your head fuzzy.

"Listen, I'm sorr-" you started, genuinely wanting to apologize, seeing how upset he was. But he cut you off, not wanting to hear your apology.

"And what's especially inappropriate is the way you're looking at me right now," he growled. A rush of arousal flowed through you as he called you out. "It's inappropriate how your eyes are begging me to touch you."

The breath was knocked out of you as he pointed out everything that you thought he hadn't noticed. "I bet if I touched you right now, you'd be fucking soaked," he said, voice low.

"Jungkook please," you said breathlessly, begging him to stop speaking as your legs threatened to give out under you.

"Please what?" he asked, forcing you to spell it out for him.

"Please...I can't.." you whimpered. The sound made him groan.

"You can't?" he questioned, "Can't take it anymore?" Your eyes threatened to tear up again. "Want me to stop? Or do you want me to touch you?"

You took a second to think about it, calming your overwhelmed nerves. Were you actually going to give in to your desires? Was it worth the never ending humiliation and mockery you'd face after? You took one look at his hungry eyes and decided - fuck it.

"Touch me," you finally said, heart racing. His eyes darkened and he wasted no time in obliging. He quickly hiked your skirt up to your hips, his fingers slipping between your clothed folds. All thoughts escaped your mind as Jungkook finally touched you where you wanted.

"Fuck, you really are soaked - for me," he growled. You had half the mind to remind him that he was also clearly enjoying himself. But your eyes fluttered shut and the words transformed into a moan as his fingers rubbed over your clit again. Pleasure coursed through your body, the tension between you two only adding to the fire between your legs. "I turn you on that much?"

You could only huff in response, too focused on the pleasure. His fingers slid down, rubbing through your wetness. Then he stopped. You groaned at the loss, opening your eyes to shoot him a glare. You were met with Jungkook's dark, lustful gaze. His eyes scanned your features hungrily, catching on your lips before stopping at your eyes. The look on your face was one he was used to. The look of anger, frustration, borderline hate. Usually he despised it, but in that moment he savoured it. This time, it was mixed with desperation - desire. It made him proud that he was able to push you to this point.

"Are you kidding me?" you asked, clearly annoyed.

"So cute how you think you'll get your way every time," he mumbled, a devilish smirk resting on his lips. "You know what one of the first things I noticed about you was? How you weren't afraid to speak your mind." It felt strange to hear Jungkook complimenting you like this, but you still felt like this was a trap. "Obviously, back then I didn't know that I'd grow to hate it," he chuckled. You rolled your eyes.

"But I want you to speak your mind now. You've always said every terrible thing you thought about me. So tell me what you're thinking about me now Y/n," he said, eyes staring into your soul like he knew every filthy thought that was running through your mind. He moved closer, his lips grazing against your ear as he whispered, "Still thinking of how much you hate me?"

"No," you answered, wanting him to get on with it.

"What are you thinking then?" Every inch of you screamed at you not to answer. But you knew there was only one way out of this. Jungkook wanted the truth, he wanted to hear you say it.

"I'm thinking about your hands, your fingers," you said softly, grateful that he had his face buried in your neck so that you didn't have to look him in the eye.

"What about 'em?" His breathing was ragged against your skin, like he couldn't wait to finally hear the words.

"Thinking about how good they look on my legs," you admitted, heart racing. Jungkook didn't answer, only taking a sharp breath in. A few more seconds of silence and you gulped, deciding to take the leap.

"Thinking about how big your hands are. And how good your fingers would feel inside of me," you said, gasping as his fingers resumed their ministrations. Jungkook pulled his head back, finally looking at you again, a dark lust painted across his features.

"Thinking about cumming on your fingers and your cock," you said, your eyes fluttering shut as pleasure worked its way through your body again. "Thinking about how much I hate that you're making me feel this way."

Jungkook cursed under his breath, making you open your eyes.

"Why?" The question was simple, but it felt heavy. His eyes bore into your; anger, lust, and focus swirling around in them.

"I don't wanna be one of those girls," you answered, voice barely above a whisper. A cold look washed over his face for a brief moment.

"How does it feel then? You're here, soaked and begging me to touch you. About to cum on my fingers. I'm the one making you feel this good," he growled, fingers picking up their pace. "Are you angry? Disgusted?"

His fingers had you hurtling towards the edge, leaving your mind hazy. You barely processed his question as the pressure built up in your core again. All you could do was moan his name as you quickly reached your climax. But then his fingers were gone, leaving you crashing. There was a moment of silence as disbelief and anger coursed through you. When you looked back at him, his expression seemed colder.

“What the fuck Jungkook?!” you nearly shouted when you finally came back to your senses. “I was so close!” you grit through your teeth.

“Oh were you?” Jungkook mocked, observing your angered reaction.

“I should’ve known. Of course you’re a selfish douchebag in bed too,” you spat. A smirk formed on his lips as he raised a brow at your words.

“It’s bewildering that those girls come back when you can’t even get them off once. I guess it is just for your pretty face,” you sneered, wanting him to him to be equally as pissed of as you. He let go of your wrists and buried a hand in your hair before yanking it back. You yelped at the harsh tug that forced your head back, exposing your neck to him.

“God you really just keep running your mouth, don’t ya?” He growled. “A few more seconds and we both know you would’ve creamed your panties.” You gulped at his words, unable to deny them.

“But only good girls get to cum,” he whispered, his hot breath on your ear sending shivers down your spine. He let go of your hair, putting a little space between you two. “You think you deserve to cum?” He asked.

“After months of being an asshole to me, never listening to anything I said, treating me like an idiot? All because you wanted my cock stuffed in your tight pussy.” The anger swirling in his eyes only turned you on more.

“Did you really think I’d give you what you wanted so easily Y/n?” he mocked. “After all that, did you think I’d let you have your way? Maybe finally fuck you how you’ve wanted? Have you screaming my name, squirting all over my cock, over and over again?” While his words added to the arousal between your legs, his tone left you humiliated. You could feel your face getting hotter.

“I’m sorry,” you managed to mutter while staring at the floor. Jungkook chuckled darkly before grabbing your jaw and forcing you to look at him.

“Oh baby, no. Sorry won’t cut it. If you want me to fuck you, you’re gonna have to earn it,” he growled, staring right into your eyes.

Then he let go of your jaw. He was angry with you, so angry. But watching you beg, cry his name, submit to him made his cock impossibly hard. As he fumbled with his belt and pants, you understood what he wanted. Without a second thought, you dropped to your knees before him. Jungkook cursed under his breath at the way you looked up at him. You reached forward to help him as he shakily unzipped his pants, but he merely brushed your hands away. You waited patiently, your heart racing in anticipation of finally seeing his cock. Relief spread across his face when he finally pulled his aching cock out of its confines. You licked your lips at the sight. Jungkook’s hand squeezed at the base as he slapped your cheek with his cock.

“Open,” he demanded. You obeyed, opening your mouth and letting your tongue out. Jungkook slapped his heavy cock on your tongue, groaning as you looked up at him. His cock twitched against your tongue as he admired the lewd image in front of him. You swirled your tongue around the tip before closing your lips around it. Jungkook grunted, still looking at you with dark eyes. But he refused to move, leaving you to do all the work for now. So, you slowly sunk your mouth down on his cock, brushing his hands away from the base. When you’d finally sunk all the way down, your nose brushing against his pelvis, Jungkook’s head rolled back and he let out a heavy sigh that sounded suspiciously like a whimper. Seeing him crumble under your touch boosted your pride and ego. Feeling like you finally had some power in this situation, you decided to go further, just to pull more of those cute whimpers out of him. You pulled back before sinking down on him again, letting his cock hit the back of your throat.

“Oh fuck, he moaned, his hands flying to the back of your head to grab your hair. You repeated the action two more times, pulling a string of curses and moans from his lips that hit your ears like music. Just as you were pulling your head back for another time, Jungkook’s hands pushed your head forward, thrusting his own hips so his cock was buried deep in your throat. The action caught you off guard, your hands coming up to hold his thighs, attempting to stabilize yourself. Your throat burned at the abrupt intrusion and you felt tears beginning to well in your eyes as he held you there. But the look of pleasure etched on his face and the pretty moans leaving his lips were incentive enough for you to stay there. You tried your best to focus on breathing through your nose as he buried his cock as deep as he could.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he cursed, his eyes screwed shut in pleasure. “Who knew your mouth felt this fucking good?” He asked rhetorically, his voice low and hoarse, finally opening his eyes. Seeing you looking up at him with his cock stuffed down your throat, tears streaming down your face, and trying your best to nod to his question proved to be overwhelming for Jungkook. He felt like he could cum right there and then. With a growl, he yanked you off his cock, finally giving you a chance to breathe. You coughed as you tried to catch your breath, trying to wipe away your tears and the saliva dripping down your chin. He had to look away from you for a moment or he thought he’d go crazy. So he slowly stroked his cock, letting his head roll back, as you caught your breath.

You breathed heavily, unable to do anything but look up at him in a haze. As soon as you caught your breath, you wrapped your lips around his cock again. Jungkook looked at you through hooded eyes as you eagerly sank down on his cock again. He didn’t even give you a second to readjust, a hand fisting your hair as his hips snapped forward. He set a rough pace, leaving your throat feeling raw already. You could feel his anger and frustration with every thrust.

“Fuck, I should’ve just done this,” he growled. “Every time you ran your mouth, should’ve just stuffed it with cock. Bet you would’ve loved that,” he grunted, quickly getting close to the edge. You whimpered softly around him, unsure if you were agreeing or not. “Such a fucking slut,” he groaned, punctuating the words with harsh thrusts. His movements were getting rougher and sloppier as he hurtled closer to the edge. You held onto his thighs for support, letting him use your mouth.

“Fuck I’m getting close,” he groaned. He cursed under his breath seeing the anticipation in your eyes. He quickly yanked your head back and stroked his cock quickly. “Fucking hell, you know how bad I wanna cum all over your face? Let everyone at the table see what a fucking cockslut you are for me?” He groaned, his hand moving quickly. You stared up at him, burning the sight into your mind.

“Don’t care, just want your cum,” you gasped, still catching your breath. That was all Jungkook needed to hear to completely lose himself.

He quickly buried his cock in your mouth again as he came. Curses and moans spilled from his lips, his hot cum shooting down your throat. You could see his adam’s apple move with every groan and it was driving you crazy. There was no doubt that you were soaking wet and you ached to be filled up. Your tongue soothed his cock, coaxing him to give you more. Even after he finished, he kept himself buried in your mouth, savouring the feeling. After a few moments, he finally pulled away. His gaze was piercing as he tucked himself back into his pants, straightening himself up. You finally stood up again, brushing at your aching knees. Your heart was pounding in your ears at the anticipation of what was going to come. After all, you’d definitely been good to him. Jungkook looked at your sloppy appearance and smiled sadistically.

“Who knew you were such a filthy slut?” He taunted, brushing a piece of your hair behind your ear. “Sucking dick in a public bathroom so desperately,” he mocked. His tone made your stomach drop. Your heart continued racing with excitement and unease. He leaned in closer. “Should be enough dick to get you through the next week without being a bitch to me, right?”

You couldn’t hide the wince at his words. The spite in his voice stung. Sure he was degrading you before, but this time he sounded like he meant it. He stepped back from you, looking over you without a hint of warmth. “Might wanna clean up before you come back out,” he said nonchalantly, unlocking the bathroom door. “Wouldn’t want everyone to know that you had my cock down your throat,” he said coldly. Then he was out the door, leaving you a mess, alone in the bathroom. You couldn’t move for a few moments, still trying to process what had just happened. You’d never seen him that angry and bitter before. You couldn’t believe that he’d just left you to clean yourself up after all that. The only thing that snapped you out of your thoughts was the thought of someone walking in on you like this. You finally moved to lock the door again.

“What the fuck,” you sighed, looking at yourself in the mirror. You shot yourself a dirty look, seeing the state you were in. You felt humiliated. As you fixed yourself up, you mentally cursed yourself for letting your guard down around Jungkook. You should’ve known that he would act like a dick. Underneath that charming exterior, he was downright awful. Of course he would insult and humiliate you after getting what he wanted. You could feel the anger bubble up in your chest, threatening to make you march back to the table and yell at him in front of everyone. But you knew you couldn’t. You’d be exposing yourself in that process and the last thing you wanted people to know was that you gave in to Jungkook. You couldn’t be seen as one of those stupid girls that were chasing him all the time. You weren’t one of them. Taking a deep breath to calm down, you took one last look in the mirror. After making sure you looked decent again, you finally stepped out of the bathroom.

As you walked back to the table, an obnoxious, high pitched laugh made your stomach churn with dread. Jungkook sat there, his arm draped over the booth behind the same girl from before, smirking as he spoke to her. She was leaning in so close that any movement would have their lips touching. You felt sick when he whispered in her ear, chuckling at whatever she responded with. You could’ve thrown up right there and then, your blood running cold. There was no way in hell you were gonna sit there and watch him act like this after everything that happened. As soon as you got to the table, you grabbed your bag and jacket, refusing to look at the two of them.

“Hey, Y/n are you leaving?” someone asked. You couldn’t even tell who was talking, too busy trying to escape this hell. “Yeah, feeling kinda sick,” you mumbled, already turning on your heels. You heard some ‘goodbye’s and ‘feel better’s from behind you but you just hastily waved without turning around. When you finally got into the cold night, the air felt like a slap to your face. It smacked some sense back into you. Your mind reeled with the events of the night and you wondered what you could’ve possibly been thinking. You just started speed walking, nearly sprinting, towards the subway, desperate to get home and wash the filth and disgust that caked your skin and clawed at your insides.

[xxsquiddkiddxx]

Viktor x Reader Headcanons

Pronouns for reader: Gender neutral, AFAB undertones if you squint

Relationship type: Platonic to Romantic

General Idea: Some silly little headcanons I have for Viktor because he's still my silly little princess. Even after the whole glorious evolution thing.

Content Warnings: S1 Viktor, no S2 spoilers, But there as little bit of s2 viktor's mindset, I'm projecting a little bit (a lot) but it's fine.

~☆~

I honestly see Viktor as asexual with light aromantic undertones (kinda like demiromantic, I guess??). He rarely ever developes romantic feelings. Like its a once in a blue moon thing.

Like... he has to know you for YEARS before something in his head is like "Oh... hey they kinda cute?"

However, when he DOES develop feelings that go beyond friendship, Viktor HEAVILY struggles with coming to terms with them. Not in like a "I don't DO feelings" type way, but more in a "Well... no... it could be this" type of way.

Oh, his heart rate speeds up a little bit when you two accidently brush hands? It must just be his nerves.

When he does realize that he has feelings for someone, it's kind of like that scene in Gravity Falls where Dipper is like "It's not like I stay awake at night thinking about Wendy" and it cuts to him laying awake thinking about Wendy XD

If he likes someone romantically, he talks about them a lot. Like as if trying to bring them up as much as he can. Like "Oh (Y/N) mentioned something about that book, said they really liked it" Or "(Y/N) actually said something similar about that topic" If he could yap about you for hours, he probably would.

Even if you're being PAINFULLY obvious about your romantic feelings towards Viktor, he will firmly believe you're just being friendly.

Why he does it is a mix between two things: one is that he's just not awesome with people. And second is that he firmly believes someone like you could never love someone like him back.

One night, Viktor had been constantly working without break, so you practically dragged him to his room by his ear and forced him to get some rest.

Viktor has a strong habit of having his workspace FILLED with old mugs, sometimes days old. He doesn't really mean to, just too wrapped up in Hextech to really notice.

He also struggles with meals too. Just like above, because he literally just gets too wrapped up in his work.

If Viktor actually confesses feelings, it's such an interesting experience. Because he doesn't just flat out say "Hey I have feelings for you". He stumbles over his words and rambles about something random in the middle of it. So you gotta help him out a little bit.

Viktor's love language is quality time. He'll make sure his seat is next to you when it can, he always yaps about what he's uncovered about Hextech.

Speaking of Hextech, if you just sit there and watch him work? He'd about die of happiness on the spot. If you, someone he really loved, took an interest to something he truly loved DOING? Perfect.

He used to get really flustered about physical affection. Like you held his hand one time and he about combusted. He was red in the face for hours. He got better with it overtime, of course. But for the first few months, he was pretty much bright red the whole time.

Dates are rare, neither of you have the time for it. But when you two do have dates of some kind, they're mostly stay at home type things.

You know that thing kids do? Like playing their own separate things together? Parallel play, I think it's called? Yeah you two do that a lot.

Viktor will be reading some papers and you'll be reading a book, your feet in his lap.

Speaking of, Viktor is such a reader omg He doesn't read a lot anymore due to his constant workload, but when he does, he reads a lot of like... old books. The ones with yellowing pages and smell nice? Yeah... those ones!

If you two slept in the same bed, he'd be all like... giggly and nervous the first few times. Just like affection, he'd get used to it. But it's still cute.

When you two are cuddling, run your fingers in his hair. He'll melt right into you regardless of the situation. It's like an instant relax button for him.

Him laying his head on your chest, and you running your fingers through his hair? Something about it just... works. It calms him down a lot and makes him feel at peace.

His favorite place to kiss is the crook of your neck. Especially if you're around his height (he's like... between 5'7 and 5'10. I don't remember exactly).

Or your temples. It's simple, it doesn't attract a lot of attention. And let's be real, it's underrated as hell.

He's not big on PDA, but he'll hold your hand in public. He likes holding onto just one of your fingers, like your pinkie or something like that. It, just like temple kisses, is simple and discreet.

He doesn't often say "I love you". He feels bad about it, but you don't mind. He often says I love you without saying it. Things like holding you while you sleep, kissing your forehead as you two read in each other's arms, weaving your fingers with his while he works.

He gets self-conscious a lot. He thinks you could do a lot better than him and that he's not perfect.

Please kiss this poor boy all over and tell him he's perfect as is 😭😭

~☆~

A/N:The Arcane brainrot has gotten to me... This is how I'm coping with the finale. But I've wanted to write Viktor or Sevika stuff for a HOT minute now. I've been in the Arcane fandom for YEARS (a fanfic writer even longer) but this is my first Arcane fic... wild XD

For more fics: my masterlist!

~Squeed

[put-me-through-the-wall]

Girl Next Door

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x reader

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: Simon is a simple man who doesn't ask for much. Just a bit of peace to come home to. When suddenly you pop in to interrupt his tranquility. Maybe he doesn't completely hate it...

A/N: This is fluff if you squint. Slow burn?? This will probably just be part one if y'all dig the concept. Let me know what you think.

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Simon loves sitting on his balcony in the evening. He loved it before his new neighbor moved in. He wasn't the type to be overly concerned about the actions of other tenants. If someone was too loud, he'd just turn up the television. Banging from upstairs, he'd play some music. Smoking pot outside, that's fine he smokes cigarettes. And he was never one to meddle in others personal lives. He sought sanctuary in his alone time. 

While unlocking his front door one day he couldn't ignore the soft grunting coming from down the hallway behind him. He turns to see someone coming out of the stairwell with a box so big he can only make out a pair of hands on the sides and little legs coming out the bottom. He watched as you waddled all the way to the door right next to his own. You drop the box with a huff, leaning forward on the cardboard to catch your breath. 

"Hi neighbor," you greet between pants. You're wearing some baggy clothes and a beat up baseball cap, wide eyes staring up at him from under its brim. Just a hint of sweat speckling your temples. "Sorry for the noise, I promise I'm not a normally noisy person." you smile. 

"Hope not," he grunts and enters his own residence. Closing the door firmly without a second look. 

𝜗𝜚

The next day while he's drinking his morning coffee and going through his emails he is disturbed by a politely quiet knock on the door. When he looks through the peephole he sees you again. This time with your hair down, wearing a sundress. Looking a lot more put together. You're holding a tray in your hands. He opens the door but does not release the door chain, leaving only a crack in the door to reveal himself.

"Can I help you," he grumbles in a flat tone.

"Hey neighbor!" You don't let the small allowance of space dampen your spirit or at least you don't show it. "I made some cookies. I'd like to think it's good luck to christen a new place by making something sweet in it. The recipe ended up making way more than I planned for so I figured it would be the neighborly thing to do to offer you some." You give your brightest smile hoping to win him over. 

"I don't like sweets," he states.

"Oh, really? I thought everyone liked sweets..." Your shoulders slump the smallest bit as you pause for a moment in thought. "Well, I've got a baked ziti in the oven. It should be ready in about thirty minutes. I could pop by and drop off some when it's done, if you'd like?"

"Yeah, no thanks." He doesn't allow you to respond when he closes the door in your face. Simon is a distrustful man by nature and he won't let a sweet girl with a tray of goodies change that. They did smell really good though. He can't help himself when he looks through his peephole to watch you leave. You let out a defeated sigh and shuffle back to your apartment next door. 

𝜗𝜚

A few days later he runs into you again. He steps into the elevator, presses the button for the lobby, when he hears a familiar voice calling. 

"Wait, hold the elevator please!" You shout down the hallway. You jog towards the lift, trying to get your purse on your shoulder with one hand while balancing your phone, keys, and a travel mug in the other. Your jacket is only half on and the straps on your shoes are undone. Simon groans under his breath but, out of a second of sympathy, he holds his arm out to block the doors from closing. 

"Thank you," you say breathlessly and duck underneath his outstretched arm. "I'm a running little behind this morning." 

"No problem." His eyes remain forward, watching the doors slide shut as the two of you start descending. You finish putting on your jacket and run your fingers to settle your frazzled hair. 

"Can you hold this for a second?" 

"Uh.." He doesn't get a chance to answer when you're thrusting your warm cup into his hands. He watches as you shove your phone and keys into your purse then bend down to finish buckling the straps on your shoes. Unbothered when your skirt rides up your leg exposing your upper thigh. 

You stand back up, straightening your blouse. "Thanks again" You take the cup back allowing him to shove his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "Hey, I'm sorry if I came off as strong the other day."

"It's fine"

"I'm not the best with first impressions." He doesn't respond so you continue. "I didn't mean to intrude either. I'm sure you're a very busy man. Me too, I'm pretty busy with work and stuff. I write for the paper. Well, I am writing the cooking column right now but I'm hoping to get bumped up soon. Maybe something like crime would be cool. What about you? What do you do for work?"

The elevator's ding signals you've arrived at the lobby. As the doors open Simon turns to his head slowly to look at you and nods towards the open doors. 

"Ladies first" 

He wasn't fooled by your clumsy persona, he could feel an ulterior motive in you. He watched as you sauntered off. You are much more professional now, as you pull out a pair of sunglasses and slide them on. He watched the way your hips swayed in your tight skirt. You looked over your shoulder and smiled sweetly at him. Simon waits until you're pushing open the glass paneled double doors before he heads out of the lift himself. 

As you make it onto the city sidewalk, a man runs right into you, causing your coffee to spill down the front of your shirt. You gasp as the hot liquid splashes onto your freshly ironed blouse and down your chest. The man hardly pauses before redirecting around you looking irritated. You spin back around with a huff and shove back into the lobby, pacing to the elevator. 

"Hold the door, please" you groan, marching back while Simon blocks the doors again, containing his laugh into a tight smirk.

𝜗𝜚

Whenever you caught a glimpse of Simon you were quick to skip over and start a conversation. Which was quite a bit. It seemed he was always running into you. The elevator, the apartment gym, while taking out trash, in the parking garage, as he unlocks his door. Most of the conversation being one sided. He was starting to learn more about your life, all the information against his will, of course. 

You were a recipe columnist, also a great cook. You liked dogs but really wanted a cat. You were a single child. You moved here to get a fresh start after a bad relationship. You don't have many friends, that one is pretty obvious.

Then one night, while Simon is trying to enjoy a smoke outside on his balcony he's disturbed by loud shouting in your apartment. Not in your usual bubbly tone, no you sounded angry. He couldn't understand the words you were saying through the glass of your patio door. Then a deep voice is shouting back at you. After a few minutes of listening to the back and forth, your front door slams and then there is stillness. The moment is interrupted when you storm onto your own balcony, slamming the glass door shut behind you.

You brace yourself on the railing edge. He watches your shoulders heave with a few heavy breaths then start to shutter. Your head falls weakly into your hands and you begin to cry. Cry hard at that, sobbing that shakes your whole body. You cover your mouth to keep yourself quiet but your pathetic whimpers still slip though. 

For a moment Simon actually feels bad for you. In fact he feels angry, angry at whoever could have made you feel that way. Sure, you could be annoying at times. Okay annoying all the time but he has never heard you say a harsh word about anyone before. He can't fathom what you could have possibly done to deserve such harshness. You are a sweet girl. He considers saying something to comfort you in some way but after another minute of watching you cry meekly into your hands he thinks maybe not. It would be better to let you be alone. His own patio door is still open, perhaps and can slip back inside with you noticing...

Then he drops his lighter. 

Your head turns sharply to the direction of the clattering plastic against the floor. You lock your watery eyes with Simon and he feels an unexpected pang in his heart. You swiftly wipe your eyes and brush your ruffled hair in place the best you can. Even in the dim lighting illuminating from the city below he can still see how flushed your cheeks have become. 

You draw in a shaky inhale before speaking. "How long have you been out here?"

"Not long," He sees your eyes flick down to the half smoked cigarette between his fingers, giving away his lie. "You want one?" He asks, unsure how to comfort you. 

"I don't smoke," then a pause. "Can I just have a bit of yours?" Your voice is so feeble it's almost a whisper. As you look at him with big round eyes and pouty lips, he can't deny your request. 

He passes the half burnt cigarette over the small stone wall separating your balconies. You're shaky fingers brush against his, careful not to drop it. You bring it to your lips to pull a slow drag. Your eyes flutter shut before you release the puff of smoke, carefully not to blow it in his direction. Simon watches the cloud drift out of your mouth, disappearing into the chilled night air. You lean on the wall connecting your balcony to Simon's. You stare down at the glowing red ember emitting a thin plume of smoke. 

"You alright?" It's him this time who breaks the silence.

"Yeah," you mumble, not lifting your gaze. 

"You sure?"

"No," you release a tired sigh. 

He waits a beat before speaking. "You told me you weren't gonna be a noisy neighbor."

A smile begins to creep onto your face. "I'm sorry, I broke my promise. How can I make it up to you?" When you look at him now, he sees a shimmer return back to your eyes. 

You pass the cigarette back over to him. It's basically down to the filter when he brings it to his own lips and takes a final drag, blowing the smoke between the two of you. It disperses around your features while you watch him. He stubs it out in an ashtray on his little patio table. The cool night dries his chapped mouth. He licks his lips and tastes an unfamiliar cherry flavoring. He looks down at the butt in his ashtray and observes the faintest red ring of lipgloss on the smushed filter. 

"You know, I could go for some baked ziti."

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Part II

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ﾒ𝟶

[happiest-hotch]

The Brink of Collapse

Summary: Aaron and reader have been on the brink of divorce for a long time. And then suddenly he's there, and feelings come to a head.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: very angsty, talk of divorce, mentions of strippers

It's been an odd month.

Surreal, in some ways.

You and Aaron have been on the brink of divorce for a while, but once you finally said the word, everything changed. It opened up a new world of feelings and even more hurt.

It didn't seem possible to feel more hurt, but here you are, sitting on the couch, feet tucked beside you, and a glass of wine on the coffee table. You need it for your nighttime reading, the first draft of a separation agreement, your and Aaron's full names on the top.

It feels like physical proof that you and Aaron have failed. Every sacrifice that was made in the decade you had been together wasn't enough. All the love in the world wasn't enough.

It hits you in a deeper place in your chest than you knew existed, and it makes breathing difficult.

Those papers are a taunt you've been putting off confronting, but it's time. It's something you have to do.

Your eyes gloss over the words, but you catch yourself slipping into a defense strategy where your name is removed from you, and it's a draft divorce settlement of detached clients.

"Late-night reading?" His voice makes you jump, startled by his appearance in front of you.

You had spaced out, thought he escaped through the front door to avoid whatever this awkward situation could be categorized as. You find yourself wishing that he did as he looks at you, trying to profile your thoughts. Dick.

You're both trying to keep life somewhat normal for the children, not wanting them to be caught up in your mess which means when he's in DC, he picks them up for the day and drops them back home. You just thought he'd leave out the front door rather than come across the house to talk to you.

"It's not that late." You reply. "Do you actually want to do this?" You're not sure why you ask, not when it's going to hurt.

"Do what, Ms. L/n?" Aaron asks, but he knows. He walks behind the couch and into the kitchen, taking the open bottle of wine and pouring himself a glass without invitation.

"Get divorced." You answer before adding something you probably shouldn't since there's no need. "I'm still technically Mrs. Hotchner."

He doesn't chuckle at your quip, but he looks close. "You wouldn't be holding that if we didn't." Carefully chosen words, as expected. "I've always loved that part of your name."

You scoff, shaking your head. "That's a conflicting message."

Aaron shrugs, sitting down on the couch next to you. You kind of wish he hadn't. He could have just gone back to wherever he's staying and you wouldn't have to do this metaphorical dance.

"They're not mutually exclusive." He explains. You try to keep a neutral expression, but it's hard to hear that your soon-to-be ex-husband likes that you have the same surname. "I love the name, doesn't mean we can't get divorced."

"I won't be Mrs. Hotchner then." You remind him, but you keep it lighthearted in tone.

The air is getting too grave and when things get too grave, you both say too much. It's painful conversation, of late. No more 'I love you's and bleeding heart promises of fixing it. You both know you're beyond repair so you talk about that, and it's getting depressing.

He shrugs. "Not necessarily. Plenty of women keep the name after divorce."

Divorce.

That dirty word that's become your reality.

"I've not considered it." You confess. It seems easier to be honest about something little. "Would it bother you? If I kept it?"

He waits a beat, staring into the semi-opaque wine. "No. Not in the slightest."

"I feel it could get real awkward." You admit and he frowns, not understanding what you mean. "When someone says, 'Oh, are you related to Aaron Hotchner' and I have to say, 'Yeah, he's my ex-husband.' I mean, you know half this town."

Aaron considers it for a second, that thoughtful frown on his brows. "I hadn't considered it." Obviously. "You have my blessing if you keep it."

You chuckle humorlessly. "Thanks."

"This whole thing doesn't have to be adversarial." He reminds you, but it's not condescending. He's almost smiling, lips tugging up at the corners.

Your eyes narrow at him. "Have I done something to make this feel adversarial?"

It's snider than it needs to be, but he comes back professionally. "No. But I've seen couples in our situation start arguing, even yelling, at every step."

You snort out a laugh. "The life of divorce attorneys, right?" He's telling it like you don't know like you're not still in the job he left for the FBI. You bite your bottom lip, considering whether to drive the conversation in a different direction, and come to the conclusion that it might make the conversation lighter and with it, stop the clenching feeling of your heart. "Do you still remember the Beamounts?"

He laughs louder than you've heard in a while. That does the trick and gives you a quick breath of relief, but it's gone as soon as it's there. "I couldn't forget it." He assures you. "Do you still have her little card? The one you kept in your wallet?"

You're almost giddy listening to him laugh, and it makes you giggle as you recall it. "Yes! She ran those exotic dance clubs, I remember. I'm still not sure if I'm offended she gave me the card… like, I can't work out if she thought I might be interested and would want to come watch, or if she thought I'd like to leave seven years of school and a law career behind to strip."

"Do you want me to take care of that card? It's been in there for what? Twelve years?"

His offer throws you a little, but your reaction comes out as teasing. "Oh, do you need her card? Now that we're about to be divorced?"

"I certainly don't." Unsurprising, he has no trouble with women. "But I do want to preserve your wallet's purity."

"I think she gave me the non-explicit version." You explain to him. "I'm sure there are some racy ones out there for guys that are into that stuff..." Something prompts you to push it further. "Like you."

Aaron laughs again, and you get another breath. "Very occasionally." He assures you.

"There's photographic evidence, Aaron." You remind him, smiling softly at the photos Morgan showed you of some BAU boys' nights out. Aaron looked so uncomfortable, and you're sure he spent the entire evening refusing to look at any woman's assets. It makes your stomach churn knowing that, if the situation arises again, he won't act the same way. "Unfortunately, good old Mrs. Beamount is spoken for these days, so I guess the card has no use to you."

He hits you with something you don't expect, although maybe you should have since it's in line with your mutual reminiscing. "That was the first time we met. Just baby lawyers thrown into the craziest case."

"I remember laughing with you about how ridiculous it was." The first time you laughed together about that, you breathed deeper than you ever have before. "Do you remember the thing with the dog?"

He snorts with laughter. It's probably not meant to be as attractive a sound as it is. "That damn chihuahua he insisted was possessed? I remember being so annoyed because I knew the dog couldn't be possessed. I kept asking myself what I'd done so wrong in my life that I had a client expecting me to argue it." Hearing his thoughts now is different than just laughing about back then. "Then when we got there, the damn animal was barking and growling in a demonic way. That was the weirdest thing I've ever seen in my life. It was possessed."

The passion with how he talks about a damn dog makes you smile. "Now imagine everyone seeing that and having to argue it wasn't demonic." You remind him of what your position was as his opposing counsel. "I felt so ridiculous arguing it. And she wanted the divorce settlement to include him taking it to the groomer." You shake your head disapprovingly at the memory. "It creeped me out that she kept it in her purse. That was the ugliest dog I'd ever seen."

It's odd to be laughing with him, considering your precarious relationship circumstances, and even odder that it's about the first case. Surely it should be about what Eden said today, bonding over your kids seems less intimate than talking about when you met.

"I remember she even tried to make herself look more motherly and nurturing in court, by taking care of it during the proceedings." He continues.

It's like you're watching the whole thing again, but you know how it ends. "I was just praying she wouldn't start breastfeeding it." You say. "Her boobs were so plastic that I think if she put that rabid dog near them, he'd chew them."

Aaron loses it laughing, clearly seeing the mental image that worried you 12 years ago. "Okay, okay, that's enough." He finally manages to get out.

You finish off the laughter, letting it die down rather than continuing the conversation.

"What did you think of me?" He asks, a surprising tangent. "When we first met?"

You know he knows since it had been discussed it a few times between dating and marriage, wanting to reminisce. Why he's asking now, you're not sure, and why you're answering, you're even less sure.

"I thought you were a jerk." You admit.

He laughs, but he's thinking about whether you think that again now. "Yeah?" He prompts you to go on.

"That's what happens when you arrive at a mediation meeting five minutes late with Ferrari keys." You remind him with the same disapproving frown.

You can still remember when he walked into the big boardroom, dressed in a perfectly fitted dark blue suit with his hair longer than it is now and parted down the middle. Compared to now, he looked so young, just 25 and straight out of law school, not having seen the most awful parts of the world. He's different now. His shoulder bag switched out for a briefcase being the most minor change.

When he walked into the room that first day, you were equally as pissed off by and attracted to him. It's full circle that you feel that way again.

"I had to find parking." He reasons.

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. "You didn't valet your car?"

"After the Ferrari, things were tight," Aaron says, but it's a joke. You both know he has money, the separation agreement dividing your assets wouldn't be so long if neither of you had money. "What about after that?" He asks. Sadistic or masochistic, you're not sure. It hurts you to relieve it in your memory, but is it hurting him?

"I was leaving that meeting. As fast as I could, of course." You pause for his laughter. "And you were already in the elevator." It hurts to recall, just like you expected. "I wondered if I should join you."

You still wonder now, if you made the right decision that day. On one hand, you'd have none of the good memories, but on the other, you wouldn't feel like your chest was clenching and your heart was threatening to shatter with each breath.

You decide to keep telling the story. "And I did. And you made me laugh, right off the bat, both of us giggling about the ridiculousness of our clients."

"Not very professional." He notes with a smirk. "Opposing counsel gossiping about their clients."

Your eyebrows pull together in a frown. "Why'd you make the first joke then?"

He wants to tell you it's because he needed to make you laugh, just to hear it and see you smile. His fear takes over and he settles for a quip. "I mean, you looked uptight, but I could tell you weren't."

Your scoff is accompanied by you hitting his shoulder, both of you laughing and it suddenly hits you that you're flirting with him.

It must hit him too because what he says is out of left field. "Part of me wonders if the reason you're only just looking at that is because, on some level, you're hoping we'll fix things and get back together." Fuck! Aaron has always been a straight shooter, but that was far too much honesty.

You gulp, the saliva in your mouth drying up. "Hey, let's just not go there, okay?" You offer. It's not a conversation you want to be having. Your mixed emotions coupled with his ability to push you, it's not a good combination.

"Sure." He admits, but his tone suggests he's unhappy, and so does his sigh. You're begging him with your eyes not to push it, to leave the house and the conversation, and not make it awkward and hurtful. "I never wanted this to be an argument. Do you know that? I know I've never been great at communicating and all this, but I've always tried to do the best for you, always tried to... I mean, I've never gotten divorced before, so I'm still feeling out the right way to do it."

You're not impressed he's lying through his teeth. Both of you know he didn't "always" do his best at communicating. Those last few months, he barely spoke to you. In fact, this conversation might contain more words than an entire few months.

And is there a "right way" to get divorced? You don't know, but you wish you could stop picking apart everything he's saying, overanalyzing.

You're caught on the first statement. "This isn't an argument, is it?"

"I guess not, but there's a vibe." He points out. "Maybe I'm being hypersensitive. Listen, I know this is hard. I think we both knew this probably wasn't going to be the easiest thing, right?"

You avert your gaze from him, a few tears welling in your eyes. "Yeah, we knew that."

"Hey, look at me." He implores.

You tilt your head to the ceiling, trying to stop crying before you start.

"If you're not ready to do this, then please just talk to me." He says- begs. "Please talk to me."

It's ironic really, him sitting there begging you to talk to him when formerly, it's been you doing the begging for him to share his feelings with you. An embarrassing amount of begging, really.

"Please don't do this." You beg back. "I'm not interested in the idea of being vulnerable in front of you, okay?"

He sighs a bit, hands falling to his side. The look on his face you can read. He's upset about not being able to comfort you, and he's begging himself not to show it. What the fuck does that mean?

"Fine." He agrees. "It's... I don't think I ever fully realized how much this whole thing would hurt, but I'm seeing it now."

You don't thank him sarcastically for being obvious. It's twisted that he's spilling his emotions now, and it's hard not to be resentful about it. If he had just fucking talked to you when you begged him to every night in your last month together, you wouldn't be here. It's too little, too late.

"I guess." You agree. "We'll just get it over with."

It stings his heart, so he stings you back. Whether it's intentional or on reaction, you can't tell. "Maybe you're right and we should get it drafted and signed so we can be finished as soon as possible." But, most surprisingly, he flip-flops. "I miss you, Y/n."

It's the same rollercoaster of emotions that your brain is riding in your head, but at least you're not saying it out loud and confusing the shit out of him. "Don't say that, Aaron." You warn him.

He has the nerve to be surprised by your harsh tone. "...what? It's just a fact. I miss you. Why is that bad to say?"

"Because I missed you for four months while you had one foot out the door of this marriage." You finally snap.

Aaron looks stunned and it only makes you angrier and more upset. "I know," He tells you.

He knows, but he'd never do anything about it. You try to act casual, taking a deep breath. "Okay." You attempt to leave it at that.

He won't let the conversation go. "I should have fought for us."

"You still can." You're not sure why you say it, but you do. Maybe you give him one last chance because you'll regret it forever if you don't.

"I am more in love with you than I have ever been." He bursts out, unable to help himself given the chance.

It makes your heart soar and your eyes water. You sit there silently, wrapping your arms around yourself tightly like it might protect you.

"I never should have put you in a position where you felt like something was wrong with us." Aaron looks at you so sincerely that you can't help the tears running down your cheeks. "It got to a point where I felt like I couldn't fix it so I didn't try, and I'm aware that was the wrong choice every day."

"I don't know what to say." You tell him. "Why bother coming to this conclusion, and telling me about it, when it's too late?" Maybe you're protecting yourself more than you need to be.

Aaron shakes his head. "Because it isn't."

"Aaron." You shake your head, holding up the literal divorce papers that exist to remind him. "So much has happened in the last four months."

"Not too much, though." He emphasizes.

He's pushing a button that makes your emotions boil over. "I don't even know where you're sleeping." You remind him firmly.

"Holy shit, Y/n!" Aaron's quick to assure you of what might have been going on in your head. "No." He pauses. "I'm sleeping at my office." You can't say that doesn't relieve you. "You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever laid eyes on. Since the day I met you, I've never looked at anyone the same."

His strong assurances make you cry more. "I don't know if we can fix this." You admit, disappointed in yourself.

"We absolutely can." He pleads to you. "You said we should get a divorce because love isn't enough to make this better, but there is more than love here. I am committed to you and I want to fix this."

You continue your tears and he reaches out to touch your cheek, wiping away your tears with the pad of his thumb. You lean into his soft touch. "I do too." You admit, the realization alleviating some of the aching in your chest.

"You mean the world to me," Aaron tells you firmly. "I will do anything to get us back on track. I wasn't before and I know I was stupid for it, but I'm listening, Y/n. To everything you need and want."

"I think we need help." You confess. "Like professional help."

He can't nod fast enough. "I agree. We can get that."

You stop him before he can pull out his phone. "Tomorrow." You request. "I just want a hug."

He hasn't had you in his arms in far too long, and he reaches out for you. You lay on his chest, letting him wrap his arms around you.

"Wow, I've missed you." He hums, breathing out a deep sigh of relief.

You sniffle your tears, nodding in agreement. "Me too."

"Y/n, I will never let it get this far again," Aaron assures you. "I was stupid and I can't lose you. I love you."

You're sure you feel the same way. Everything definitely wasn't fixed and there was a lot to do, but one thing you're sure about is being married to Aaron Hotchner. "I love you too."

[f1boistrash]

nowhere else i'd rather be | l.s

a/n: here is more of logan x verstappen!reader. i've also got another part in the works which i'm excited to start

summary: you comfort logan after the news broke that he wouldn't be racing in the australian grand prix

<- previous part

You were in the Red Bull garage when the news was announced. You had heard the rumors after Alex's crash in free practice one but you didn't think they would actually do it or at least you hoped they wouldn't. Williams had given Alex Logan's car for the rest of the weekend and you were angry.

You quietly left before anyone noticed, making your way to Logan's room for the weekend. No one batted an eye, too focused on getting the car ready for free practice two so you were able to sneak in. You found his room easily, the layout similar to Red Bulls garage, and knocked on the door. You heard some movement inside but no one came to open the door.

"Logan? It's me, Y/N." You tried again. You didn't want to just barge in but you also wanted to see him, to make sure he was okay. Well as okay as anyone can be in this situation.

"The doors open." You heard him mumble and you quickly slipped inside.

The sight before you broke your heart. Logan was sat on his couch, his head in his hands. He looked defeated. You sat down next to him, immediately wrapping your arms around him. It was like a dam broke inside as tears started falling. You held him tightly, your way of letting him know you weren't going anywhere. It took everything for you to not go in James' office and give him a piece of your mind for treating Logan like this.

It was a few minutes before Logan sat up, moving out of your arms. He brushed his hand over his face as if he was trying to hide the fact he was crying. "I'm sorry." He mumbled, too embarrassed to look at you.

"You don't need to apologize, Logan. What they did was shit. You have every right to be upset." You told him, placing your hand over his. "I don't ever wanna hear you apologize for your feelings, okay?"

"Thanks, Y/N." Logan thanked you, sending you what was probably the first genuine smile of the day. "You being here means a lot."

"There's no where else I'd rather be." You admitted, heat rising to your cheeks at your admission. Before you could hide, afraid you made the situation weird, Logan cupped your cheek and leaned forward. Neither of you had a chance to make a move before your phone went off, interrupting the moment. You cursed silently at your brother for choosing now to text you. "I should probably get going or Max will send out a search party."

"Yeah, I should probably show my face in the garage." Logan groaned. He didn't want to but knew he had to keep up appearances for the team.

"I'll text you later." You promised him as he walked you to the door. You hugged Logan goodbye and left but not before you bumped into Alex. "Hey Alex."

"Hey Y/N." He called after you. Alex then turned to Logan giving him a knowing smirk.

"We're just friends." Logan said, trying to convince himself more than anything because there was no way he could have a crush on a fellow drivers sister. Alex grinned at his teammate, not believing him one bit.

-x-

Logan was nervous. More nervous than he was before he got into his car on race days. He had no reason to though because you were just friends. That's what he kept telling himself, afraid of embarrassing himself in front of you. You had texted earlier that you were coming over to his hotel room, bringing food with you, and since then Logan was on edge. It felt like a date but you hadn't said anything to suggest it was.

A knock on the door broke him out of his thoughts. He opened the door and there you were, takeout bags in each hand and a grin on your face. It was enough for the nervousness Logan had to melt away. "I heard about this place from Oscar and he reckons its the best food in Melbourne. So if its bad we can just blame him." You said as you walked into his room. "And I know it may be breaking our diet but we can just do an extra lap of the track tomorrow." You rambled on, taking the boxes out of the bag. When Logan didn't say anything you looked up, seeing him softly smiling at you making you self conscious. "I'm overstepping, aren't I? I am so sorry. You probably want to be by yourself now after today. I'll leave you alone now."

"Please don't." Logan pleaded, interrupting your spiraling thoughts. He gently grabbed your hand to stop you from leaving his room. "I enjoy your company. In fact you're making this whole weekend bearable." Logan pulled you close, his nose brushing yours. "So please don't leave." He mumbled against your lips before kissing you. You melted into his kiss, forgetting any worries you had.

[lee-laurent]

T'es ben chix - Luke Hughes

Summary: Amélie decides Luke Hughes is the cutest boy she's ever seen, but she doesn't know how to tell him.

wc: 7k

content: fluff, a little bit of angst, kissing, panic attacks, anxiety, quick make out session, a couple dirty jokes, long distance relationship (let me know if missed anything!)

notes: don't let the title fool you, this fic is still in english!! i realized the other day while doing schoolwork that i don't have a fic that discusses being french-canadian. so... here we are! this fic was super fun for me to write and i incorporated experiences and challenges i have faced over the last few years. a lot of the mistakes that amélie makes are mistakes that i have made or that other french speakers make when speaking english bc sometimes we try to directly translate things and it just does not work lol i reallly hope you guys enjoy!!! and to any other francophones out there: let's be friends!!

just finished writing and it's about 5k words more than i was planning

Amélie honestly wasn't the biggest fan of going out back home, so going out in a place where she could barely speak the language was even worse. But a few of the girls she'd befriended had convinced her it was a good way to get to know more people and to let loose. She sat with the three other girls at a small table, her fingers drumming against the glass of her cocktail.

"Yeah, what did you think of that guy that presented today, Am?"

"Hm? He did... good."

"No, silly. Did you think he was cute?"

"Oh, um, he's... how do you say... not my type?"

"Not your type? Then what is your type, Am?"

"Probably that guy she's been making googly eyes at all night," one of the others teased.

"Who? The tall, curly haired guy in the corner?"

Amélie blushed, sipping at the alcohol for courage.

"Ooo, she's totally into him!"

"You should go talk to him, Am!"

"No... I tell you... no American boys," she waved them off.

"Well, that's too bad. Cause it looks like he's comin' over here. We'll be at the bar if you need us."

"Guys..."

But it was too late, the other girls were already up and headed towards the bar.

"Calisse," she mumbled, trying to ignore the tall figure approaching her table.

"Mind if I sit?" he asked. She looked up at him, her lips pursed. He had the same curly hair and boyish smile that her friends had been teasing her about. She really hadn't planned on talking to anyone tonight, let alone any boys. The girls knew her rule: no falling for any boys while she was in America.

"Uh... sure," she replied, gesturing to the empty chairs across from her.

He smiled, sitting down casually, rubbing his palms on his pants. "I'm Luke. I, uh, I thought I'd come introduce myslef since we, uh, made eye contact so many times."

Amélie bit her lip, nodding as he spoke. She barely knew enough English to follow what her friends were saying, and now she had to talk to some random guy at this bar she didn't even want to be at. "I, uh, I am Amélie."

"Amélie? That's a really pretty name. Did I, uh, did I say it right? Amélie?"

Her cheeks flushed, her eyes flickering down to her drink. "Yeah... that is right. Thank you." Her fingers tightened around the glass, trying to think of something to say next, but everything just came in French.

Luke could sense her hesitation, suddenly becoming way more nervous about coming over. Maybe it had been stupid. Maybe he was making her feel uncomfortable. "I just thought... I don't know. You seemed nice. Do you, uh, want to talk, or...?"

She met his gaze, taking a deep breath. He was trying and he seemed nice, like he really wanted to talk to her. "I... my English, it is not very good," her accent thickening as she spoke. "It is... hard for me."

Luke nodded, leaning forward slightly. He had teammates that didn't speak English as their first language, so he kind of knew what to expect. "That's fine. I'm sure it's better than my French. That is your first language, right? French? Sorry, I just assumed cause your name-"

"Yes, French," she cut him off, giggling at his rambling.

"I can barely say anything in French, so you've already got me beat."

His attempt to make her feel better worked... a little. "It is easier... to write. But speaking... more pressure, I forget the words lots."

"I get that. But we can just... talk slowly."

She sipped at her drink, waiting for him to continue.

"So, what brings you to Jersey? Not a lot of French people here."

"Exchange... at Rutgers. I am from Québec. Saguenay. But I come here... and I work on my English."

"That's super cool. It's awesome that you're pushing yourself to get better. I, uh, I went to Umich for a bit, but-"

"Umich?"

"Oh, right. University of Michigan. I lived in Michigan before I lived here."

"You move here because..."

"For hockey. I play hockey."

"Oh... that's cool. I like Les Canadiens. You play in the LNH?"

"The NHL? Yeah, I do. You like hockey?"

"Everyone in Québec likes hockey. Very popular."

"But you didn't know who I was," Luke teased.

"Only like Les Canadiens, sorry," she shrugged.

"Well, that's fair, I guess. The Habs are pretty big in Québec, huh?"

"Yes! My family... all big fan." She felt comfortable talking about her family, talking about home, the things she liked. Her dad watched every Habs game on TV and sometimes he'd even drive down to Montréal for a weekend to see them play.

"My family loves hockey too. Everyone plays. My mom, my dad, me, and both my brothers. It's like in our blood... or something."

"They play for... the same team?"

"One of them does. Jack, he plays with me. My other brother, Quinn, he plays in Vancouver," Luke tried to keep it casual, not wanting it to seem like he was bragging.

"Ah! The Canucks!"

"See, you know a bit about other teams," he teased.

"Shhh," she giggled. "Your family... they seem very... what's the word... talented."

"Guess you could say that."

She took another sip of her drink, her mind buzzing with questions to ask, but none of them coming to her in English. She wanted to ask more about his brothers, about how he started playing hockey, but her mouth just couldn't keep up with her brain. She also didn't want to come off as rude or obsessed with him because of his title, so she just nodded.

"You don't have to worry, you know. I'm not judging you," Luke comforted. "So, what do you do when you're learning English or watching the Habs? You got any other hobbies?"

"I like to... read. And bake... when I have time."

"Reading and baking," Luke mused. "What do you bake?"

"Everything," she giggled. "Tarte au sucre is my preferred. My mom... she always bakes with me."

"Tarte au sucre? What's that? Sugar pie?" Luke's eyes lit up. "You'll have to make me that one day. I've never had it."

"Maybe. You will have to see."

"Challenge accepted."

Amélie went to respond, but her phone buzzing stopped her. It was her friends calling, probably ready to head on to another bar. She didn't want her conversation with Luke to end, but she knew she couldn't stay there all night.

"I have to go. My friends... waiting," she sighed.

Luke's face fell a little but he nodded. "Yeah, I get it. But I, uh, this was fun."

"Me too."

There was silence for a little, neither of them wanting to be the first to say goodbye. "You should give me... your phone number. So you can try my tarte au sucre."

"Sounds like a plan," Luke said, handing his phone over for her. She typed in her name and phone number, adding a '<3' next to Amélie.

"Text me," she giggled, waving goodbye as she joined the other girls at the bar. Luke watched as the four of them started talking amongst themselves quickly, giggling as Amélie told them about her conversation with the hockey player.

He finally stood up, making his way back over to the table where his teammates were sat. Curtis raised an eyebrow at him, a smirk plastered on his face.

"Well, how'd it go, Romeo?" He leaned forward, failing to conceal his grin.

Luke rolled his eyes, "Good, actually. Really good."

Nico raised his pint, "Told you. You just had to go for it."

"So... what's next?" Curtis nudged him. "You ask for her number?"

Luke nodded, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, we'll probably meet up again."

"Probably?"

"Okay, fine. Yeah, we'll see each other again. I'm going to try her sugar pie she was talking about."

"Sugar pie? Is that what we're calling it nowadays?" Nico teased, causing the whole table to erupt in laughter.

Luke shook his head, letting the teasing slide. His mind was too focused on the girl with a French accent and promises of baking him pie. He had to see her again.

~~

Luke found texting Amélie way easier than he'd imagined. She wasn't lying when she said her writing was better than her speaking. Her texts barely ever had mistakes, in fact sometimes they were worded better than his.

They texted back and forth constantly, which earned Luke some teasing from his colleagues. In writing, Amélie was much more confident, returning his flirting with practiced ease. Her personality really shone through in a way it hadn't at the bar. She'd occasionally crack jokes, usually about how he didn't know any French and that she'd have to teach him. Their conversations flowed, talking about their days, sharing stories, discussing the schoolwork that Amélie had, and sometimes sharing pictures of their meals. Although Jack did most of Luke's cooking, he'd never admit that to the girl.

You have to come and try my tarte au sucre soon! Only if you're brave enough though ;)

Luke grinned at his phone, his fingers furiously typing back a reply.

Oh, I'm brave enough. Just let me know when, and I'll be there.

I will. Maybe next week? I need to make sure it's perfect first.

Deal.

~~

Amélie paced her apartment, making sure that everything was in order before Luke came over. She was even more nervous than she had been in the bar. She really wanted things to go well. They had decided to label the event as their first date, and although a bit informal, she was still shitting herself.

The pie was sitting on her kitchen island, untouched. She didn't want to eat any of it until Luke was there to eat it with her. She was worried he'd get in trouble because it wasn't part of his meal plan for work, but he had reassured it multiple times that it wasn't a big deal if he had a little pie.

Just as she was about to rearrange her throw pillows for the third time, there was a knock at her door. She froze mid-step, wiping her hands on her jeans as she made her way to the door.

It was just a pie. And it was just Luke. Nothing to be too worried about.

She hesitated for a moment before she pulled the door open, tilting her head back to look up at Luke. He was standing there in a Devils hoodie and some track pants, a baseball cap covering his curls. He looked relaxed, his hands tucked in the pocket of his hoodie. Amélie hated how nonchalant he looked in comparison to her.

"Hey," he greeted. "I brough my appetite, as promised."

"Good. I hope you are ready," she joked, stepping out of the way to let him in. He pulled off his shoes, taking in her cozy apartment. He laughed when his eyes landed on the big Québec flag hung behind her couch.

"I'm sure it'll be amazing. I'm looking forward to it, don't worry."

She nodded, though her nerves didn't disappear. She led him into the kitchen where the pie sat waiting. The smell of it filled the small space, warm and sweet.

"Wow, looks good, Am. Guess you weren't kidding about being a good baker."

"It's like you with hockey. My talent," she giggled, blushing as their eyes met.

"I don't know. Your baking skills may be miles ahead of my hockey skills."

"Don't lie. Let's see if it tastes as good as the smell," she grabbed a knife, finally cutting the pie into pieces. She placed a generous slice in front of Luke, taking in how comfortable he looked in the situation. She really admired how easygoing he was compared to her. It was their first date, but his demeanor made it seem like they'd been seeing each other for months. Meanwhile, her heart hadn't stopped racing since she opened the door minutes before.

Luke picked up his fork, flashing her a grin before taking his first bite. His eyes widened and he let out a pleased hum, "Holy shit, this is so good."

"You like it?"

"Are you kidding? This is like the best dessert I've ever had... don't tell my mom I said that. But really, Amélie, you've ruined all other pies for me. Can I take some home to show Jack?"

"Of course! I'm glad you like it. Is my mom's recipe."

"You should probably teach me how to make this, so I don't have to beg you every time I want some."

"I wouldn't mind," she giggled, taking a bite of her own slice. The taste reminded her of home and she suddenly felt a lot less nervous about messing up her English in front of Luke. They continued to eat their pie as they talked, shifting the conversation to more personal topics, wanting to know everything about each other.

Luke told stories about growing up with his brothers, sharing embarrassing moments from their childhoods and the occasional hockey-related mishap. Amélie found herself laughing more than she had since she'd arrived in America, her body filling with warmth.

"And that's how Jack ended up chipping his tooth. Our mom was furious, but Quinn and I thought it was hilarious," Luke explained, shaking his head at the memory.

She laughed, her shoulders shaking. "You and your brother... troublemakers," she teased, resting her chin on her hand as she listened to him talk. God, she could listen to Luke talk for hours. His accent was the cutest thing she'd ever heard and his smile curved up more on one side than the other, almost like a smirk. He was so perfect.

"Yeah, we were. Still are, I guess. But what about you? You got any fun stories about your family?"

"One time my dad, he take us to Montréal for a Habs game. And my older brother he had... he liked one girl he saw. But she was anglophone, no French. He goes up to her and he tries to talk English. But it was soooo bad. Even worse than me. He only knew maybe like three word. I think he said like 'Hey, you pretty, drink?' and she looked at him like he was... insane! He... he panicked and ran away. We bullied him for years after. Our dad, he will still talk about it at dinner sometime."

"That's brutal," Luke laughed. "Glad our first conversation didn't go like that."

"I am just better than him."

Luke shook his head, flashing his lopsided smile that made Amélie swoon. "Clearly. You've got the charm, no doubt about it."

"Maybe a little. But still I get nervous. When you arrive, I think maybe that I would die."

"You hid it well. I didn't even notice. I was the nervous one."

"You? Nervous?" she raised an eyebrow, placing her fork between her lips .

"Yeah, you were... well you are, like the prettiest girl I've ever met," he rubbed the back of his neck. "Didn't want to mess it up."

"Is that a joke? You did not... mess up. I like talking with you."

"I like talking with you too, Amélie"

~~

It was their fourth date and they were back at Amélie's apartment. Luke was sprawled out on the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table as he playfully scrolled through one of Amélie's French-to-English learning apps.

"Come on, give me a word," Luke teased, turning to look at the girl sitting beside him with her legs tucked under her.

"Alright. Alright. Um... try... 'papillon.'"

Luke squinted, trying his hardest to translate it. "Papillon," he reapted slowly. "Uh... sounds like pasta, maybe? Wait, no, wait... um, balloon?"

She let a burst of laughter, learning back against the arm of the couch. "Non! It's butterfly!"

He groaned dramatically, throwing his head back in mock anguish. "Butterfly?! That doesn't even sound like butterfly! What?!"

"You are needing more practice," she giggled, comfortly placing a hand on his thigh.

Luke's eyes widened at her touch, but he couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, clearly I need a lot more practice. You might have to become my full-time tutor."

Amélie smiled, her fingers lingering on his thigh, sending a warmth through both of them. They'd been spending more and more time together, and things were less awkward, but still full of nervousness. The banter between them was easy, but there was an ever-growing tension gnawing at them both.

Luke reached for a throw pillow next to him, lightly tossing it at her. "Give me another one. I swear I'll get it this time."

She swatted the pillow away, but her focus had moved on from French. The space between them had slowly been shrinking and she had just noticed how close they were. She tilted her head, her eyes flickering up to meet Luke's. "I think... maybe you are better at other things than French."

Luke's grin faltered, his breath catching in his throat at her new tone. He glanced down at her hand still resting on his thigh, then back at her face, then back to her hand again. "Oh yeah? Like what?"

"Like... this."

Before he could question what she meant, she leaned in, her lips brushing his, testing the waters. The kiss was soft, hesitant, but the second their lips connected, everything they'd been holding back snapped into place.

Luke's hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer. The kiss deepened quickly, no longer hesitant, but instead filled with the feelings they'd been dancing around for weeks. Amélie sighed against his mouth, her hands sliding up to his chest, gripping his shirt in his fists. Luke groaned softly, the sound muffled by her lips.

Their kisses turned hungrier, more urgent, as the tension in the room built. Luke shifted, gently pushing Amélie back against the couch as he leaned over her, his body pressing against hers as their kisses grew sloppier. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, and Luke's hands slid up to cradle her face, his thumb brushing her cheek as the kiss deepened.

Neither of them wanted to pull away, not wanting to be the first to end the kiss. Luke realized he couldn't hold his breath any longer. He gasped for air before kissing her again, harder this time, his lips moving with more urgency than before. Amélie let out a soft, breathless moan in reponse.

They pulled away again, their foreheads resting against each other as they tried to catch their breath. Luke brushed a strand of her hair, that had gotten stuck between them, out of her face. His eyes were still half-closed as he whispered, "I've wanted to kiss you for so long."

Amélie smiled, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to fill her lungs with air. She looked up at him, her lips still tingling. "Me too. I... I did not expect it to feel... like that."

"Good or bad?"

"Good," she whispered, her fingers tracing the back of his neck before pulling him in again, her lips finding his once more. There was no hesitation this time, just unfiltered desire as they gave in to the kiss.

~~

"Where you goin'?" Jack asked, pausing his video game as he heard Luke head for the door. He turned around, noticing his brother wearing his Michigan backpack. "And why do you have a backpack?"

"Amélie's place. I'm spending the night."

"Damn, Lukey boy's finally getting laid."

"Shut up, Jack... there's no confirmation that that's what happening. She just asked if I wanted to sleep over."

Jack smirked, leaning back on the couch with a knowing look. "Uh-huh, sure. You don't pack a bag just to sleep over, bro."

Luke rolled his eyes, adjusting the straps of his bag. "It's not like that. We're just hanging out, maybe watching a movie or something."

Jack snorted. "Yeah, okay. Whatever you say, lover boy. But just in case, be safe."

"It's not like that," Luke groaned, grabbing his keys off the counter, trying to escape Jack's teasing.

"I'm just saying! Good luck, bud!"

Luke mumbled to himself as he stepped into the hallway, heading for the elevator to the parking garage. His heart was racing more than usual, not just because of Jack's teasing but because tonight did feel different. Spending a night together was a big step in their relationship, especially since they weren't officially official yet.

They hadn't even discussed labels yet, and although they were very close, there was an unspoken worry of figuring out where things were heading. Luke really, really liked her, but he didn't want to rush anything. If Amélie wanted to take things slow, then he would take things slow.

He sat in his car, getting ready to leave when his phone buzzed.

Just picked out a movie. Hope you like rom-coms ;)

Only if we watch it in French so I can practice

Deal.

When he pulled up to her building, he practically leaped out of the car, taking his backpack with him. He knocked on her door, his heart in his throat.

Just go with the flow. No pressure

Amélie giggled when she opened the front door, dressed in one of Luke's Devils hoodies and a pair of shorts he couldn't see from under the large sweatshirt.

"Hey. You look cute," he leaned down to kiss her.

"Hey! Missed you."

"It's only been three days," he laughed, allowing her to wrap her arms around his waist, propping her chin on his chest. "You ready for my horrible French?"

"Ready for anything," she giggled as he ran a hand through her hair.

They stood in the doorway for a few moments more, before she grasped his hand and pulled him into the living room. They settled on the couch, a blanket thrown over their entwined legs.

"Am, I've been thinking..." his thumb brushing lightly against her thigh. "I don't want to overthink it anymore than I already have, but... we've been spending lots of time together. And I really like you."

"I like you too, Luke. A lot."

"Good. Because... I want this to be official. I mean, us. I want us to be official. I don't wanna be just 'hanging out' or 'seeing where things go' anymore. I want you to be my girlfriend." His voice softened at the end, his heart out on a silver platter just for her.

"You really want that?" she gushed.

Luke nodded, "Yeah. I want you. I want... us."

"I want that too," she smiled, shuffling impossibly closer to him, pecking his lips.

Luke pulled her back in for a deeper kiss, relief flooding his body. When they pulled apart, Amélie rested her forehead against his, her fingers gripping the front of his hoodie.

"So, it is official?" she whispered.

"Officially official. You're my girlfriend now."

She kissed him again, laughing into his mouth. "Well... now that we have... figured that out. You have French to practice... boyfriend."

"Let's get started then, girlfriend."

~~

"So... when do I get to meet her?" Jack grinned, knocking Luke's shoulder.

"Oh, um, I can ask her."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "You can ask her?" he teased. "What, you haven't mentioned me?"

Luke sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I have, Jack. I just... didn't think you'd be so excited."

"Dude, of course I'm excited! My little brother has a girlfriend now! And you know I've gotta approve, see if she's good for you. Duh."

"She's not a test subject, Jack. I'm not bringing her so you can interrogate her."

Jack snickered, loving how flustered his brother was getting. "Relax, I'll be nice. In fact, bring her out with us and the guys this weekend. Some of the other girlfriends will be there."

"I can ask her. Just... don't be weird about it. She get's nervous."

"Me? Weird about it? Never. I'm charming."

"That's what I'm worried about."

"Come on, it'll be fun. She'll get to meet everyone, and you know the guys will love her. Plus, if she can survive a night out with us, she's a keeper."

"Look, I'll ask. But I know she's been busy with schoolwork. I'll ask her tonight. But seriously, Jack, don't freak her out. Please."

"Scout's honour, man. I'll be on my best behaviour."

"You're not a-- never mind. I'll let you know what she says."

~~

Luke laid next to Amélie in her bed, his arm draped over her waist. She was scrolling through TikTok, laughing at French words he didn't know yet. He pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder, peeking at the screen where some girl was speaking rapid French while doing her make up.

"Hey, Am."

"Hmm?"

"So... Jack and some of the guys are going out this weekend, and a few of the girlfriends will be there too," he paused, thinking over his next words. "Jack was, uh, wondering when he could meet you. He kind of suggested you come along."

She blinked, "Meet... all of your friends? This weekend?"

"No pressure! If you're too busy with school, I totally get it. I just thought it might be fun. Only if you want to, of course," Luke quickly added.

She bit her lip, thinking it over, and Luke could tell she was weighing her options. "I'm nervous. I would... like to meet Jack. To be... part of your world."

He pulled her body closer to his, pressing more kisses to her shoulder. "You're already part of my world, Am. And trust me, Jack's been bugging me about meeting you since our first date. He's... well, he's Jack. But he means well."

"Okay. I will come. But if Jack, he makes me feel awkward, you owe me a very good dinner."

Luke laughed, "Deal. And don't worry, I'll be there the whole time. Plus, survivng Jack means you can survive anything."

~~

"C'est très cute, non?" Amélie asked, showing her outfit off to Luke.

"You look like a millon bucks, baby," he replied, leaning down to kiss her.

"What?"

"It's... it's a saying."

She tilted her head slightly, repeating the words back to herself. "A million... bucks."

Luke thought her accent made it all the more adorable. "It means you look beautiful. Like super, super beautiful."

"English says, they are so strange. First you tell me it rains cats and dogs... now I look like I am money. You explain me all of these sometimes, yes?"

"Of course, baby. But I mean it, you looks amazing."

"Thanks, Lu. We should go?"

"If we have to," Luke pouted, leaning down to give her another kiss.

~~

Amélie gripped the straps of her purse so tightly that her knuckles were white. She had never felt so nervous in her life, not even on their first date. She had so many people to impress tonight and probably less than half the words they had in their vocabularies.

Luke was quick to notice her anxiety. She usually walked with so much confidence, but her posture was slumped and her lip was held between her teeth. "Hey, you okay?"

She nodded, but her choked voice betrayed her. "I... I don't know if I can do this."

"You'll be fine, Am," he whispered, brushing his thumb over her cheek. "Jack's going to love you, I can promise you that. And it's just a few of the guys--nothing big. And hey, some of them aren't even native English speakers themselves."

Her eyes were still full of uncertainty, her fingers busying themselves by picking at the skin around her nails. "But maybe I will say something wrong. Or they ask me things, and I do not understand them? Or they will all laugh at me."

"You've been doing so well with your English, love. And if you're ever feeling stuck, just squeeze my hand and I'll come to your rescue."

The bar was pretty empty for the most part, just a few tables of friends talking and sharing drinks. In the back corner, Jack was sitting with a few of the other guys and their better halves.

"There they are!" Jack cheered as soon as he saw them approaching, standing up to greet his brother as if he hadn't seen him in weeks. His tone was loud and confident, and Amélie could feel every set of eyes at the table move towards her and Luke.

Luke gave his brother a quick bro-hug before turning to his girlfriend. "Jack, this is Amélie. Am, this is my brother, Jack."

Amélie felt like all the moisture in her mouth had disappeared, her hand gripping Luke's with a vice-like strength. She opened her mouth to speak, but all her words got stuck. "I, uh, I... hi."

"Nice to meet you, Amélie," Jack said. "Luke's told me loads about you."

She gave him a tight lipped smile, her mind scrambling to find a response, but nothing came. She felt like the weight of everyone's expectations were holding her down. She wanted to wow everyone with perfect English, but all she could do was stand there, frozen.

"She, uh, she's a little nervous," Luke interjected. "Amélie's from Québec, she's here in Jersey to learn English. But her French is like the most impressive shit ever."

"No worries. We're just happy you're here," Nico spoke up.

Amélie forced a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. She sat down beside Luke, her hand still gripping his with immense force. The conversation around the table picked back up, but she remained quiet.

The guys were easygoing, laughing and joking with each other, and the other girlfriends seemed just as relaxed. The more they spoke though, the harder it became for her to follow. She could pick up on bits and pieces of what was going on, but she couldn't seem to form a complete sentence in her head.

"So, how do you like Jersey so far?" one of the other girlfriends, Lexi, asked with a warm smile.

"It... it's very different. But I... I like it," she replied, her eyes not leaving Luke's hand in her lap.

"She thinks back home is wayyyy prettier. Right, babe?" Luke helped to direct her.

"Yes. Québec is very beautiful."

"So what brought you here?" Jack asked, desperately wanting to know more about the girl that had stolen his brother's heart. "School?"

She bit her lip, trying her best to think of how to reply in English. "Yes... I.... study at Rutgers. Exchange."

"That's awesome. What're you studying?"

Her mind went completely blank. She'd even rehearsed answering that exact question, but now, with everyone looking at her, the words were gone. Her hand tightened around Luke's again, taking a sip of water to clear her throat.

"She's studying communications and media. But the point of her exchange is to work on her English skills."

"That's sick," Jack nodded along.

The conversation around her continued, a few questions being tossed her way but her responses were usually just a few words, the gaps being filled in by Luke. The group eventually moved on to a story that Nico was telling, and Amélie used the shift of attention to shrink into herself further. She let Luke rest his hand on her bouncing knee in an attempt to calm her nerves, but his touch felt foreign in the situation.

After what felt like hours, but had most likely only been half an hour, she leaned close to Luke, whispering in his ear. "Je vais aux toilettes." She stood up before he could respond, scurrying off to the bathroom.

Jack shot Luke a curious glance, but he just shrugged, trying to mask his own worry.

Amélie slipped into the bathroom, pressing her hands against the sink as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. She felt like she was suffocating, her eyes burning with unshed tears. She hated feeling like an outsider, not being able to connect with Luke's world outside of her.

She wiped under her eyes, praying that her mascara didn't run. She didn't want anyone to know she'd been crying in the bathroom. She just wanted to be like the other girls at the table--relaxed and confident, going with the flow of the conversation.

With one last deep breath, she made her way back to the table. Luke looked up at her as she approached. He could tell something was off.

"Everything okay?"

She just nodded, falling back into her silence at the table. She laughed when everyone else laughed, smiling politely when someone made a remark towards her. Luke had never seen her so quiet in his life, not even on the first day that they met. By the time everyone had left the bar, her anxiety was so bad she thought she might puke.

Luke opened the car door for her, and she slid in, staring blankly out the window. The silence between them was heavy. Luke could feel it too, his fingers tapping nervously on the steering wheel.

"Am, what's wrong? You've been quiet all night. You barely said a thing."

The tears that she had been fighting so hard to keep at bay finally spilled out. "I... I feel so stupid. I-I couldn't even talk to them. I couldn't even... act normal."

He reached out, placing a hand on her thigh. His heart clenched at her words. "You're not stupid, Am. You're doing amazing. You're learning a whole new language, that's huge."

"But I had to have you help on everything. I could... not even answer Jack's questions. They normally think... I'm dumb. Not good for you." She wiped at her eyes, frustrated with herself for crying.

"Amélie, baby. No one thinks you're dumb. And you are more than good enough for me--don't you ever doubt that. Jack loved meeting you. Everyone did. I could tell. They don't care if you need some help speaking English. Hell, some of those guys could use the help speaking English."

"I wanted... to be better. To show I can do this. But I feel...lost."

"You don't have to show anyone that you can do anything. Not to me, not to Jack, not to anyone. I love you for--"

"You love me?"

"Of course I do, Am. I... I didn't want to admit it like this. But... I am so in love with you, Amélie."

"I love you too, Luke. Sorry if I... embarrass you tonight."

"You could never embarrass me, Am. Never ever."

"I-"

"Nope, that's enough out of you. Let's go back to yours and watch that stupid cop show you like."

"Mensonges?"

"If that's what it's called, then yes."

"I love you, Lu."

"I love you too, Am."

~~

"I don't know, Jack. She was so nervous last time..."

"But last time there were other people there too. Just tell her you've got the place to yourself for the night and then I'll walk in a couple hours later and be like 'Oh! Sorry, my plans got cancelled.' And then we can all hangout," Jack suggested.

"I'm not going to lie to her. I'll just ask if she wants to spend the night."

"Come on, Rusty! You know I'm just trying to help her relax around me. You're making it sound like a big deal. It's not! She's your girlfriend, and I want to get to know her. Plus, I'll make it fun! I'm good with people."

"I appreciate the thought, Jack. But I want her to feel comfortable, not tricked. So I'll just ask her if she wants to come over and spend the night. No tricks."

"Fine, fine. Let me know what she says."

"I will. Just... don't be an idiot."

~~

Amélie followed Luke into his apartment, her backpack thrown over his shoulder. She looked around, noticing how painfully obvious it was that two men lived there.

"I'm just gonna put your bag in my room. You wanna go make yourself comfortable on the couch?"

"Sure."

She sat down, curling her legs under herself, glancing around the living room. She picked up the remote off the coffee table, fiddling with while she waited for Luke.

"You good?"

"Yeah. Just... taking in. It is very... you."

"What, you mean messy?"

She giggled, then tension in her shoulders disappearing. "Maybe... un peu."

"Hey, it's organized chaos, baby. I know where everything is. Well... most of the time."

"I like it. Feels... comfortable. Like you."

"That's all I want, babe. For you to be comfortable."

"Where's Jack?"

"Probably in his room. Why? Wanna talk with him?"

Amélie quickly shook her head, her eyes widening. "No, no... just wonder. I don't want to... bother him."

"You're not bothering him. He's probably playing video games or doing some stupid shit. He'll come out here eventually."

The last time she'd been around Jack, she hadn't been able to shake her nerves. Tonight, she was determined to make a better impression, even if she still felt like puking.

Luke gently nudged her with his elbow. "Hey, you're good, Am. Jack's chill. You don't have to be nervous."

"I know... just... want him to like me."

"He already likes you," Luke reassured, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "He wouldn't shut up about how cool you were after the last time."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. I wouldn't lie to you, silly."

"Love you, Lu."

"Love you too," he leaned in to kiss her when footsteps pulled them apart.

"Aww, did I interrupt a moment?" Jack's teasing voice came from the doorway.

"Relax, Jack. We were just talking... about you."

"Oh yeah?" Jack pushed himself off the wall, making his way to the couch. "All good things, I hope."

"Duh," Luke squeezed Amélie's hand, allowing her to rest her head on his shoulder. "Amélie was just asking what you were up to."

"Probably nothing interesting compared to you lovebirds. Was talking to Trevor--can't let Luke get ahead of me in the whole having a life department."

She tried to think of a quick response to his joke, but came up with nothing she deemed funny enough.

"Luke tells me you like studying here cause it's different. How so?"

"Um, everything... is feeling bigger here. The city, the campus. And obviously... English. There is like... zero English in my town. We use some words... but not lots."

"Well, seems like you're doing great. Don't stress it. Plus you've got this guy," he gestured to Luke, "to help you out, right?"

She blushed, "Yes, Lu is... super."

Luke grinned, leaning in and whispering, "Told you he likes you."

~~

"I don't know how I'm gonna survive without you, Am," Luke admitted, wiping the tears from his face. His usually calm, relaxed demeanor was gone, replaced with a raw vulnerability.

Amélie had told herself she wasn't going to cry, but seeing Luke cry made that impossible. Her tears had started as soon as his had. "You will, Lu. You are so strong. And... I will not be gone forever."

He shook his head, intertwining their fingers. "I know, but... shit's gonna feel so different without you here. I'm used to having you here all the time. And now I won't see you until summer. I don't know how to do that."

"You'll have Jack, the guys, your family. I'm just... a plane away. We will FaceTime, and before you know... I am back. And I will meet Quinn... and your parents."

Luke rested his head in her lap, letting her run her fingers through his hair. She could feel his tears soaking the fabric of her jeans. "I'm gonna miss you so fucking much, Am."

"I'll miss you too, Lu. So, so much."

They stayed like that for a long time, just wrapped in each other's embraces. Neither of them wanted to let go. Neither of them wanted to admit how hard the next few months would be. They just wanted to stay together... forever.

~~

Amélie was sitting at her desk, her phone propped up against her water bottle as Luke's face filled the screen. His hair was a mess and his eyes drooping. She could tell he had just gotten home from practice.

"Hey, beautiful," he greeted.

"Hey, you," she replied, resting her chin on her hand. "How was practice?"

"Exhausting," he groaned. "But seeing your face makes it better."

Amélie blushed, biting her lip as she smiled. Before she could respond, she heard her brothers' voices coming from down the hall.

"Ah, c'est qui, Amélie?" (who is it, Amélie?)

"Son chum?" the other laughed. (her boyfriend?)

"Ahhh, mais Luke, t'es ben chix." (Ahhh, but Luke, you're so hot.)

"Ferme ta gueule!" Amélie shouted. (Shut your mouth!)

Luke burst out laughing at the look on his girlfriend's face. "What're they saying?"

She huffed, rolling her eyes. "They're being idiots. Teasing me about you."

"Teasing, huh?" He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "What did they say? Come on, tell me."

She sighed, getting closer to the camera with a small smirk. "They said you're... how would that translate.... that you're 'hot.'"

"Oh, did they know? You must have good pictures of me hanging up then, huh?"

"They're just being annoying. They think it's funny to tease me because I love an American."

"Well, tell them I appreciate the compliment. And tell them I say 'hi'," he teased.

Amélie shook her head but shouted, "Luke dit bonjour!"

From the hallway, her brothers responded with exaggerated greetings in their broken English, making the couple laugh.

"They're something else, huh? I can't wait to meet them one day."

"They'll probably want you to ask Cole for free Habs tickets. But... in a few weeks, I'll be back and I'll get to meet all of your family."

Luke's eye lit up at the thought. "I know! I've been counting down the days, baby. I can't wait for you to be here again!"

"Me neither. Excited to meet Quinn and your parents."

"Yeah, my mom's super excited to meet you!"

"I'm a little nervous though."

"Don't be! They are gonna love you so much, Am!"

"I love you, Lu."

"I love you more, Amélie. Only a few more weeks, then we'll be together again. I can't wait."

"You promise?"

"I promise. And I'm gonna spoil you so much. Just you, me, and the lake."

"Can't wait."

[honeypiehotchner]

The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part three

I'm the most impatient person I know, so here's another!

Warnings: reader smoking cigarettes, just more case stuff, and as usual their bickering (but also moments of...non-bickering? gasp?)

Morgan finds you outside the precinct, pacing.

“Hey,” he says. “We’re going to get lunch and stop at the school, come on.”

You stop pacing. “Fine. Can we make a pit stop?” You follow Morgan over to the car, yanking the door open.

“Sure,” he shrugs. “Where?”

“Just a gas station,” you reply, pulling yourself into the passenger seat. “I need a fucking cigarette.”

“Uh-uh, woah,” Morgan turns his body toward you. “Since when do you smoke?”

“On and off,” you shrug. “When I’m stressed. Can we go?”

“Yeah.” Morgan turns the key in the ignition. “But cigarettes are the last stop.”

“That’s fine,” you say, trying hard to sound nonchalant, even though you know Morgan sees right through you.

Still, he says nothing, and heads toward Lila’s school.

“Marie’s mom is on the way to the school to pick her up,” Morgan says. “And to be there while we talk to her.”

“Alright,” you reply. “I don’t think Marie knew what was happening.”

“I don’t think she did, but I don’t think she’d say if she did either,” Morgan says, “but I’m hoping something about her behavior will tell us what she doesn’t say.”

“Do you think we’ll be able to talk to her without her mom present?” you suggest. “I mean, at that age, I probably wouldn’t say anything if my mom was in the room.”

“It’s not likely, but we can ask,” Morgan says. “Sometimes the parents surprise us.”

“I don’t think I want any surprises,” you say. “I just want Lila to be home safe.”

“She will be,” Morgan says. “We’ll get her home.”

“I need that optimism,” you tease. “Got any to spare?”

“I have plenty to go around, believe me.”

+++

The middle school freaks you out. It’s so small.

“I haven’t been in a school since I was…in school,” you murmur. “Is it just me, or are the ceilings really low?”

Morgan looks up and laughs. “It’s just you. Come on.”

The two of you flash your badges and the school secretary takes you right in to see the vice principal. The principal is out of town, so not only is the VP doing two jobs, but now she has a missing kid. You introduce yourselves to the frantic, yet somehow collected administrator.

“Thanks so much for letting us come as well,” you say, shaking her hand. “I understand our colleagues, Agent Hotchner and Prentiss, were already here.”

“Yes, very brooding, that man,” she says. “I’m Mrs. Henry, I have our SRO doing another sweep of the campus to see if Lila might be hiding anywhere.”

“I don’t think she’s hiding, Mrs. Henry,” you say.

“But we appreciate the effort,” Morgan adds. “Better safe than sorry.”

“Yes, exactly,” you agree, covering up your quick mouth. It really will get you in deep shit one of these days. “Is Marie Laud here yet?”

“She’s in the counselor’s office,” Mrs. Henry says. “Her mother is on her way, but I can take you to her.”

“Thank you,” you smile.

“And do you mind if I ask you some questions while Agent L/N speaks to Marie?” Morgan says.

“Not at all,” Mrs. Henry shakes her head, grabbing her radio. “Right this way.”

The counselor’s office is just around the corner, and you spot Marie instantly. She’s doing homework by the looks of it, and the counselor is next to her, simply typing on her laptop. Marie doesn’t look closed off, but she’s also not an open book — that much can be told from her willingness to do homework instead of talk.

You observe her from a distance for a while longer, listening to Morgan’s questions.

“Is every door locked at all times in this building?”

“Well, yes, but anyone inside can open them. It would be a fire hazard if no one could get out.”

“I understand,” Morgan nods. “We just want to cover every base. Now, you’re positive she was present this morning?”

“I’ve spoken to the teacher personally, as well as Marie, and yes, Lila was here.”

You turn your head. “Marie is in Lila’s first period?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Henry nods. “They have almost every class together. Their fifth periods are different, but that’s all.”

“Okay,” you reply quietly. “I’m gonna try to talk to her.”

Waiting for Marie’s mom might be the smart thing to do, but you can deal with the mom’s anger later. You worry that Marie will feel judged or like she’s in trouble if her mom is around, especially if she knows something about Lila’s disappearance. 

You walk into the counselor’s office with a warm smile, introducing yourself to the counselor, Ms. Blackwell. 

“Is it alright if I sit?” you ask.

Ms. Blackwell nods. “Of course, go right ahead.” 

Marie’s eyes are glued to her homework, but you see her attempt to look at you through the very top of her peripheral vision.

“Algebra?” you ask. “You’re better at it than I am.” She is blasting through each question. You don’t even know if they’re right, but it looks like they must be. She seems confident. “Is that what class you’re supposed to be in right now?”

It’s tiny, but Marie does nod. She doesn’t look up, but she says, “Me and Lila have it together.”

“Oh, I see,” you murmur. “Did you see Lila this morning?”

Another nod. “Yeah, in homeroom.” Marie pauses, looks up. “That’s first period.”

You chuckle. “I had a homeroom, too.”

Marie looks back at her worksheet. “She just told me she had to go to the bathroom.”

“What was that?” you ask.

The counselor looks dumbfounded. Clearly you’ve gotten more out of Marie than Ms. Blackwell has this entire time.

“Lila said she had to pee,” Marie says again. “We were about to go to second period, but she had to pee. I didn’t wanna be late, so I went to class. She said she’d be there.”

“Okay,” you nod. “Was she really eager to leave? Did it seem urgent?”

Marie nods, looking at you weirdly. “Yeah. I thought she just had to pee really bad or got her period or something.”

“Yeah, I get that,” you reply. “Was she texting anyone?”

“I mean, she had her phone in her hand, but I dunno if she was texting anyone. We usually text in class,” Marie glances guiltily at the counselor.

“I used to pass notes in class, old fashioned texting,” you chuckle. “Did Lila say anything else that was maybe really weird or just something else you remember?”

“Yeah, I mean,” Marie shrugs. “Her book bag looked bigger.”

“Bigger?”

“Yeah, like she had a lot of stuff in it. She usually only has one notebook and her planner, but it was like. Big.”

“Huh,” you comment. “That is odd.”

“Right?” Marie says, looking back at her math. “I asked her why and she said she just felt like bringing her lunch today. It was weird.”

“Does she not normally bring her lunch?”

“Nah, we get the salads in the cafeteria,” Marie says. She tries to solve a math problem, then stops, and looks back up at you. “Is she gonna be okay?”

“I hope so,” you murmur. “Hey, if you think of anything, here’s my number.” You hand your card to her. “You can text or call me, any time.”

“Thanks,” Marie says, smiling a little. “Oh, there’s my mom.”

You turn and see Mrs. Laud coming toward you, so you stand. “Mrs. Laud, I’m Agent L/N.”

“Hi,” she says. “Did you speak to Marie?”

“We just finished,” you smile. “I apologize for not waiting for you, but every minute counts.”

“Oh, yes, I understand, that’s no problem,” Mrs. Laud replies, surprising you. You’ll have to tell Morgan. “Is Lila going to be okay? Her mom is so distraught; I just got off the phone with her again.”

“We’re doing everything we can,” you assure her. “My partner and I need to get back, but if you think of anything that might help us,” you hand Mrs. Laud your card, “please, don’t hesitate to call.”

“Thank you,” she smiles.

“Of course,” you reply. “Excuse me.”

You head back outside in the hall where Morgan stands, listening to the vice principal ramble. You’re not sure if she’s said anything helpful, but Morgan looks ready to go when he sees you.

Once you’re back in the car, you tell Morgan everything that Marie had to say.

“So she had a bag packed,” Morgan says, coming to the same conclusion as you did. “I wonder if her mom noticed. I feel like you’d notice if your kid suddenly took a lot more with her to school than usual.”

“Lila could’ve had the clothes in her locker,” you suggest. “I don’t think it matters much if the mom noticed or not. The point is, she clearly had a plan.”

“You’re right,” Morgan nods. “We should get lunch and head back. You can call Hotch in the car.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you,” Morgan chuckles. “If y’all are gonna work together, you need to work your shit out.”

“Derek, you have no idea how impossible that is.”

+++

Admittedly, Hotch is shocked to see your name come up on his phone. It still flashes with your old workplace; he needs to change that to BAU. As well as your photo. It’s one he took ten years ago when you first put your number in his contact list. You were glaring at him then, the same way you do now.

“Hello?” Hotch answers, half expecting Morgan’s voice, but he gets yours.

“Hi.” You don’t sound too happy at all to be the one calling him. Hotch wonders if you know the feeling is mutual. “We spoke with Lila’s best friend. Marie said Lila left in a hurry. Said she had to use the bathroom, but Marie didn’t want to be late for class, so she went ahead, thinking Lila would catch up.”

“Did Marie say what time? That must be when Lila left school.”

“Right before second period,” you reply, then add, “which puts it around 9am. The teacher must’ve called roll as soon as the bell rang.” 

“Alright,” Hotch sighs. Unfortunately, this doesn’t tell them much that they didn’t already know, but he supposes confirmation is better than nothing. “Anything else?”

“Yeah,” Morgan’s voice comes through. “I spoke with the vice principal. She said every door is open for safety reasons. Lila could’ve walked out any of the doors and no one would know. None of them have alarms.”

“And not all of them have cameras,” Hotch fills in. “Garcia has run into a wall. None of the footage shows Lila leaving. We only have her entering school that morning. JJ is going over it with Garcia right now to study her behavior.”

“It’s not looking good, Hotch,” Morgan says.

“I know,” Hotch replies. “Grab lunch and get back here. We need to find her.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” you sing.

Hotch sighs deeply, ending the call without a goodbye.

Rossi looks at him with raised eyebrows.

“What?” Hotch asks.

Rossi only shakes his head, looking back at the file he has in his hands. “Nothing.”

+++

“Did you hear that?” Morgan taunts. “Lunch, and high tail it back. No cigarettes, sorry honey.”

“I’ll get some tonight,” you mock him. “I’ll need one to calm me down enough to sleep, anyway.”

“I’m gonna lock you in your room,” Morgan says, turning into a random drive-thru. He sounds a little too serious.

“I’ll jump out the window,” you grin. “Now shut up and order.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Seven hamburgers and fries later, you and Morgan are headed back to the precinct to deliver food.

“Food has arrived,” you announce as you walk into the conference room. “What’s the verdict, boss?” You toss Hotch a hamburger, surprised that he catches it so easily.

He scowls at you, unwrapping it to find you remembered exactly what he likes. Or Morgan did. Probably Morgan.

“Don’t tell me he messed it up,” you groan, seeing Hotch’s frown. He’s grumpier than usual if his food isn’t right, and you have more important things to argue with him about than his damn food. “I gave Morgan every detail. Did you say it wrong?” You take a fry from Morgan’s share out of spite.

“No, it’s right,” Hotch says, still shocked that you remembered and didn’t purposefully order incorrectly just to irritate him. “Thank you.”

“Welcome,” you nod, grabbing yours and tossing Spencer his (plain, only ketchup). “How’s the chatroom, Dr. Reid?”

“Interesting, actually, I’ve been comparing Rich’s messages with other texts that we have from a few years ago, and they’re not the same person — unless he’s changed drastically since being in hiding, but I doubt that. People can change how they speak, but not that much, look at this,” Reid forgets all about his food and slides two papers over to you. “See how he talks to Lila here? He lets her think she has made the plans, but that’s not at all how Richard talks; he’s too dominating, and—”

“Kid, kid,” Morgan interrupts. “Eat something, then continue. You need fuel if you’re going to run that fast.”

Puzzled, Reid says, “I’m not running.”

Morgan and Emily laugh, shaking their heads.

“Metaphorically,” Rossi says. 

You nod, pushing his food closer. “Eat up. Then you can run it by me.”

“Oh,” Reid says. “Right, right, that makes sense.”

“It’s okay,” you smile. “Where’s the footage of Lila entering the school?”

“Here,” Hotch says, taking the seat next to you and turning the laptop around toward you. He presses the spacebar and it begins playing.

Lila walked into school, clearly struggling with the weight of her book bag. She looked around, almost paranoid, but then she saw Marie and went right to her. They hugged, talked, put their book bags down as they waited for the bell to ring. It looks normal.

Three minutes later, the bell rang, and the two girls went to class.

Hotch presses the spacebar again, stopping the footage. “That’s it.”

“Damn,” you mutter, swallowing your last bite. You reach over and reverse it, starting the video from the beginning again. “She must’ve had more than clothes in that bag. Look. She can hardly get it up on her shoulders. She’s looking around, social anxiety, maybe? I was the same until I found my friends, like she does when she finds Marie. Then she’s fine. They’re talking, laughing. Marie points to the book bag,” you pause, watching, “but Lila shrugs.”

“We’ve already been over this,” Hotch says. “While you were out with Morgan.”

“Yeah, whatever,” you wave Hotch and his attitude away. “I know. Fresh eyes, isn’t that what you preach?”

Hotch glares at you, but leaves you alone. He stands and walks to the board where pictures of Lila, Richard Monroe, and Lila’s mother are posted. Rossi joins him, the two having some sort of silent back and forth.

Nothing about Lila’s behavior seems overly concerning to you, and that is what worries you.

“Reid, how does Lila sound in the chat room?”

“Calm,” Reid says around a mouthful of fries. “She trusts this Rich person, and clearly thinks it’s her father.”

“Does he ever say that he is?”

“Not exactly,” Reid replies. “He says so in a roundabout way, but not explicitly.“

“So, it’s not Richard Monroe,” you conclude, much to Hotch’s displeasure, which he makes known by his glare. “Can I see the messages?”

Reid hands you the papers, and you tell him to finish his food while you look at them. The kid needs to slow down and eat sometimes.

JJ’s phone rings and she sighs. “More press. Gotta get this.”

“Tell them we have no comment right now,” Hotch says.

JJ only nods, putting on her facade to speak to the reporters.

“They want us to make a statement, don’t they?” Emily asks, and Morgan scoffs, knowing how the media can be.

Hotch nods. “This is going to get out of hand if we don’t find her. Quickly.”

+++

Hotch sends everybody to their respective hotel rooms for a minimum of seven hours of sleep. That is, if anyone falls asleep as soon as they set foot in the door. Otherwise, it’s looking more like five or six hours.

For you, maybe four.

You take a walk next door to the gas station, grabbing a pack of cigarettes against Morgan’s better wishes. He’s not here to stop you, and he’s probably snoring by now anyway.

Besides, you need something if you’re going to make it through a case like this.

Why did this have to be your first with the BAU? Couldn’t you get something lighter? A regular, run of the mill serial killer?

Now you have to deal with memories resurfacing, and hiding that from the rest of the team, who is probably profiling you every second they can just because you’re new. Or at least Hotch is. He’s never stopped profiling you. You wonder if it’s exhausting for him. 

You ponder the thought, and many others, as you step out onto the balcony from your hotel room.

Hotch… He really hasn’t changed. You think you have, but then again, a lot has happened to you in the past ten years. 

A lot has happened to him, apparently, too. He doesn’t wear a wedding ring anymore.

Not that that’s any of your business, but you noticed. You thought he and his wife were happy when you first met him. High school sweethearts, too. It seemed blissfully perfect. Must not have been true.

Whether or not he’s broken up about it, you can’t tell. He’s always had that damn frown on his face, even back when he was (allegedly) a happy husband. 

You scoff as you bring out your lighter. He’s a mystery. An annoying bastard, sure, but mostly a mystery.

The first inhale after a long time is the hardest, yet the most relieving, too. You can practically feel your shoulders drop in relaxation, something they haven’t done in a while.

“You shouldn’t smoke.”

“JESUS fucking Christ,” you shout, dropping your cigarette and stepping on it by accident. Thank god you put on shoes, or else that would’ve burned like a bitch. You turn your head toward Hotch’s voice, finding him sitting on the balcony next door, his feet propped on the little table. He’s without his jacket and tie now, and his dress shirt is unbuttoned three down. “Seriously?”

“What?” he replies, looking straight ahead, out at the horizon, not at you. “It’s bad for your lungs. Don’t you have asthma?”

“Sometimes,” you mutter, annoyed that he remembered. It only acts up when you do smoke, but that’s not his business. You light another and take an even longer drag. “What are you doing out here?”

“Same as you,” he says, threading his fingers together over his lap. “Sans cigarettes.”

“I’ll give one up if you’d like,” you say, knowing he won’t take it.

He doesn’t budge. “No, thank you.”

As weird as it sounds, this might be the nicest conversation the two of you have ever had.

“Suit yourself,” you shrug, taking another drag. “Can’t sleep?”

“No,” he says. “I probably won’t until we find this girl.”

“You used to sleep.”

He turns his head toward you. The moonlight highlights his features. His cheekbones, his nose. “Pardon?”

“You used to be able to sleep,” you repeat. “At least for a few hours. Did you develop insomnia while I was gone?”

“No,” he deadpans, turning to look straight ahead again. “What about you?”

“Sometimes I just don’t sleep,” you shrug. It’s not entirely the truth, but not entirely a lie, either. You would be sleeping right now if it weren’t for the nature of this case. If it weren’t so close to the hell of a childhood you lived through.

“Will you be able to work tomorrow?” he asks, sounding accusatory.

“Yes, Agent Hotchner,” you scoff. “I’ll be able to work tomorrow. Will you?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Good.”

“Good,” he echoes, taking his feet down and standing. “Get some sleep.”

You roll your eyes. “Good night.”

He disappears into his room and closes the curtains. You blow smoke in his direction anyway, watching it cloud your view of his room.

[27spoons]

When We Are Together | Natalie Scatorccio

summary: y'all remember that one episode in s1 where nat and tr*vis make out in the plane? word. what if it was gay and YOU instead of him?

pairing: natalie scatorccio x fem!reader

warnings: drug use (marijuana), kissing, mostly just fluff idk, reader being a simp with like zero experience

wc: 1770

ao3

"Fucking nothing out here." You grumble as you step over some underbrush, Natalie following close behind. 

"Yeah, well, not exactly like we can just… conjure up a deer or something." She gestures to nothing as she speaks, kicking a rock. "But if I hear one of them saying some shit about us not bringing back food one more goddamn time…" She doesn't finish the thought, but she doesn't have to. You know exactly what she's saying.

"Yeah, well, I'd like to fucking see Jackie do this shit. She'd probably squeal at the first sight of blood." You scoff, "Or wouldn't even be able to kill the fucking animal because "it's too cute!" or some shit." You shoot Nat an easy grin, and… damn. The grin she flashes back at you almost has you walking into a tree.

"Dude." Nat laughs as she walks past you, "You're so easy." But there's no malice behind the words, just that teasing tone you've come to adore in the past… however long you've been out here. You're sure someone is keeping a calendar, but you honestly couldn't give a fuck at this point. All you know is that you're stranded in the middle of fucking nowhere.

"Yeah, well… whatever." You murmur as you catch up to her, trying to hide the fact you are definitely blushing.

Nat laughs again. God, you love her laugh. Have you always been this big of a simp?

"Why are we here?" You cock an eyebrow as the two of you come up to the crash site, "Preeeeeeeeeeeetty sure we cleaned out the plane of food, like, forever ago."

"Nah. Not here to hunt. Figured we could use a little break, if that's alright with you?" She spares you a look over her shoulder, that soft, teasing grin still plastered on her face. "Because I'm so sure you're just… eager to get back out there and hunt for absolutely nothing."

You roll your eyes with a sarcastic scoff, "You know me so well. I'm just… itching to walk through an empty forest for the next eight hours."

"Yeah, there's the spirit." She says as she ducks into the plane's cabin, "C'mon. I might have a joint left over."

You whistle at that, "Damn, Scatorccio. You sure know how to get a lady going. Think I would have sold my soul for a quarter gram a few days back."

Nat huffs as she sits down on the plane floor with a grunt and opens up her backpack. "What can I say? One of my many charms." She fishes out a plastic bag with a crumpled joint inside of it, but honestly? The joint could have been literally falling apart at the first touch and you would probably still find a way to smoke it.

"That might just be the most beautiful thing I have seen in my entire life." You eye the joint as she brings it to her lips, sparking the lighter to life. The end of the smoke flickers orange as it burns.

You catch yourself staring at her lips again—too long, definitely too long. Your throat tightens as the memory of that kiss against the tree creeps in. You glance away, hoping she doesn’t notice, but the heat rising in your face gives you away.

"Oh, c'mon." Nat drawls as she exhales, "Don't be like that. C'mere." She takes another hit and leans in, gently grabbing your jaw and coaxing your mouth open.

You inhale the smoke she exhales. And… damn, is it delicious. Arguably better than it would have been if you just took the hit yourself.

But, before you can do anything else, Nat is leaning back with a low chuckle and bringing the joint back to her lips, "So easy." You roll your eyes and flip her off, which earns a giggle from her. 

Yes, an actual giggle. Which, of course, only makes you smile wider.

If anyone had told you you'd be giggling with Natalie Scatorccio in the cabin of a wrecked plane, smoking a joint, and doing things that friends do not do, you probably wouldn't have believed them. Would have been a nice thought, yes, but you wouldn't have believed them. It's not that you and Nat never got along; you two just never hung out outside of stuff with the team. You had heard the rumours about her, who hadn't, but you never cared all too much. After all, what business is it of yours what she does with her free time? She played soccer well enough and seemed like a good enough person.

Now that you've gotten to know her, however? Well, you were right. She is a good person; she just hides it under layer after layer of defences built up over the years. A part of you wishes you knew why she has all these walls, but you figure she'll tell you when she's ready. You're happy enough just doing it is whatever the two of you are doing right now.

A whistle cuts you out of your thoughts, "You in there?" Nat chuckles, holding the joint out, "I asked if you wanted a hit, Princess."

"Princess?" You scoff and grab the joint from her, brushing your fingers against hers (maybe on purpose. maybe not.) as you take it. "Thought that title was reserved for Jackie." You inhale the smoke, and… damn. You needed that. You really needed that. You fucking missed weed. It's slightly stale, but you'll take it. On the exhale, you let out a low laugh, "Goddamn, Nat. Now that is good shit." It really isn't. It's ditch weed. That's fine, though. You'll take anything.

"Oh, Jackie is a princess. You're just Princess. There's a difference, y'know." She shoots you that same easy grin as she takes the joint back from you, "With you? Compliment, yeah? With Jackie?" She shrugs and takes another pull; then her grin shifts to something slightly cockier as she realises that you're still staring at her lips, like a lovestruck fool.

Nat gives you a long look, eyes narrowing scarcely. She leans forward slightly, and when you don't budge, she keeps the smoke in her mouth and moves to straddle your waist, resting her arms on your shoulders. She gives you this look, and you part your lips for her to exhale a steady stream of smoke into.

Once you exhale the smoke this time, she doesn't pull back. She remains close to your face, sitting on your lap, her eyes half-lidded. A part of you wants to say it's the weed, but you know you're lying to yourself. There's a non-zero chance she's stoned from this; probably just a gentle buzz, if anything at all.

"Hi." You say with a sheepish grin, which earns another one of those delicious giggles from Natalie.

She laughs, low and soft, her breath warm on your cheek. “Hi.” Her voice is quieter now, gentler, but it carries that same teasing lilt that always makes you want to roll your eyes and smile at the same time. "This is okay, yeah?"

"Yeah. Yes. For sure." You mumble out a little too quickly to be passed off as smooth.

"So easy," Nat repeats for the third time, that damn easy grin on her face still.

A beat of silence passes, and you just stare at her, like a dumbass. The cabin creaks ominously around the two of you as you do. Do you kiss her? She had to have climbed into your lap for a reason, right? She wouldn't do it if it were just for shits and—

"And so stupid." Nat murmurs, and then she's kissing you. It's soft and slow, and it makes something warm flutter in your chest. You feel your face flush as you kiss her, but you also feel yourself smile softly into the kiss. You bring your hands up to cup her face and remember what she told you earlier, "Stop overthinking about what you're doing and just do it. It's not like you're doing rocket science. You're just kissing." So, you try and do just that. You kiss her a little more aggressively, and-

She's trying so hard not to laugh right now.

"Sorry." You mumble out as you pull back slightly, to which she shakes her head quickly and brings the almost-gone joint back to her lips, taking one more hit. 

"It's cool. You're just… aggressive." She exhales the smoke away from the two of you before placing the last of the joint between your lips. "Just… slow down, yeah? Not a race. Not like I'm going anywhere right now."

You take the hit, then snuff the roach of the joint out on the cabin floor. "Yeah," You murmur, "Yeah." You keep one of your hands on her cheek as you lean back in to kiss her, slower and less aggressive. Your other hand drifts down to her waist, which you think is the right idea, until she's fighting another giggle, which causes you to pull back… again.

"Sorry, sorry. That just… It tickles." She gives you an apologetic grin and doesn't stop you when you move to kiss her again.

You wrap the arm that had the hand on her waist around the small of her back and try to lay her down on the ground, which earns a soft humming sound from her, which you really like, and it's going well…

Until her head meets the sharp corner of a broken tray table, the dull thunk cutting through the moment like a poorly timed punchline.

Smooth.

"Ow." Nat murmurs as you pull back off her and try not to pout at your lack of suaveness. You don't outwardly complain about it, but Nat sees you trying to keep a calm face all the same. "Hey, come on. Who hasn't rolled over a broken tray table while making out in a blood-stained death trap?" She chuckles, which quickly turns into a giggle, making you giggle. It also displays her dimples, which… yeah, you like—a lot.

She moves to straddle your waist again, knees on either side of your thighs. One of her hands rests on your shoulder while the other comes to thread through your hair. "You're a really good kisser, you know?" Her expression becomes slightly more serious, "I don't wanna go back yet. Do you?"

You shake your head with an "Mm-mm" sound, and she's leaning down to kiss you again—slow and tender—just like before.

Why the hell didn’t you talk to her before the crash, again? Maybe you needed the end of the world to finally get it right.

a/n: natalie is a girlkisser and i will not be taking questions on that statement

I hate s1 tr*vis with a burning passion. s2 travis I can fuck with. sometimes.

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

birthday sex

pairing: jill valentine x reader

tags/cws: lingerie, oral, thigh riding, overstim, sex toys, jill is a tease and a menace

summary: reader and jill are dating and reader doesn't know what to get jill for her birthday and ends up deciding on surprising her by wearing a lace bodysuit

a/n: div creds to @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

wc: 1.5k

tags: @vaaaaaiolet @rigorwhoring @withonly-sweetheart

Buying Jill a birthday present is impossible. Whenever you ask her what she wants, her answer is always, 'I don't need anything, I have you, and I'm more than happy with that', and you’d persist if her compliments didn’t fluster you – they always do. But as her special day gets closer, you become more and more fixated on that one thought: she deserves something special. 

You decide that if the only thing she wants is you, then you'll wrap yourself up like a present and - the realization hits you. You've never worn lingerie in front of Jill - or anyone, for that matter. You’d always thought it’d be such a hassle to go out and spend so long trying things on for them to be taken off immediately if and when you first get to show them off.

And you’re proven right about the hassle. You spend hours (and a fortune) at Victoria's Secret one afternoon, and come home absolutely exhausted after you find the perfect lace bodysuit (and take advantage of the store's 5 for 35 dollars sale on panties).

You're even more exhausted the next day when you have to figure out how to put the garment on without an employee guiding you - you pray it'll be easier to take off, or you'll have to let Jill rip it off of you. Which wouldn't be all that bad, come to think of it.

Your tiredness subsides – or is overwritten by desire – when Jill walks in dressed in her typical office wear, which never fails to turn you on. As does everything else she wears.

You greet her at the door, a little giddy about the surprise you've planned for her. It’s not that you’re not always happy to see her, you’re just usually half-asleep on the couch after your own long work day. 

Jill notices your unique excitement and gives you a look of suspicion - intrigue, too, and asks, "what's going on?"

"Nothing," you say, sarcastically adding, "Oh, except for your birthday. I almost forgot."

"I'm sure you did. It's not like you've been asking me everyday for the last three weeks how I want to spend it."

"I know you probably want to relax a bit first since you've had a long day at work, but I do want to give you your present."

"I told you not to get me anything."

"You'll like it… I hope."

"Now I'm really curious."

"Then, follow me."

You take her hand and lead her to her bedroom. You have her sit on the bed.

"Stay there," you say, "and close your eyes."

"Fine, but I swear to god if it's some sort of reptile or tarantula-"

"Not even close."

Though her eyes are closed, she can hear your clothes hitting the floor, and her lips curve into a smile, knowing what's to come.

You walk towards her, close enough that she can touch you. You take her hand and guide it over the fabric and she hums in satisfaction. "So far, I'm liking my gift."

"Open your eyes and see the rest."

She does, and you see that rare full grin of hers that makes you want to jump with joy (though, your mind is a bit preoccupied with the thought of what she might do to you in the coming moments, so if you equate arousal and joy, then yeah, you’re feeling pretty fucking joyful).

"Take a seat, beautiful," she says, patting her lap.

Jill has you right where she wants you, straddling her thigh, ruining her good pants since the lacy panties do little to cover up your wetness. It's not like you could hide it from her anyway. It's painted all over your face— lust.

You lean in to kiss her, but she grabs your cheeks before your lips can touch hers.

"Ah-ah," she says, "my birthday, my rules."

She coaxes you to nod with her hand still cupping your face.

"You're not even gonna kiss me?" you whine.

"If I kiss you, then I have to close my eyes and right now, I want to see you."

"It's only fair if I get to see you too."

"I'm right here, baby doll."

She knows what you mean, but you have no rebuttal. The fact of the matter is: Jill looks hot with or without her clothes on.

"Maybe you should give me a reason to take off my clothes," she says. "Why don't you finish what you started?"

Her gaze points you towards the wet spot on her thigh.

Desire surpasses embarrassment and you place your hands on Jill's shoulders for better leverage as you slowly but steadily grind against her thigh.

"Look at me," she says, lifting your chin. "As much as I love your gorgeous body, I wanna see your pretty face too."

If only there were words to describe her beauty, maybe, then, you'd be able to use them. You’re speechless, but not quiet, your mouth is occupied by breathy moans.

Not because she's nice, but because she's impatient, Jill hoists you up and strips down to her underwear. Before she places you back where you belong – straddling her thigh – she finds the buttons at the crotch of your bodysuit and undoes them, leaving your glistening slit on display.

She coaxes you into your first orgasm of the night with her sultry voice and her hands on your hips, guiding you.

You'd be an idiot to think it was over.

It's orgasm after orgasm until you're crying, begging Jill to give you a breather, begging her to take her clothes all the way off, begging her to let you touch her.

But no, she holds a vibrator to your clit and tells you you're a good girl for taking it. Those two words "good girl" have you wrapped around her finger(s), which pump in and out of you, over and over again.

"Jill, I can't," you say after the umpteenth time she's sent you over the edge. "It's too much."

"Am I hurting you?" she asks with genuine concern.

"No, it doesn't hurt… I'm just sensitive."

She hums in understanding, in momentary surrender, as she removes all stimulation.

You sigh as relief washes over you, but it only lasts for a second before it turns back into need. It's like she's trained you, reduced you to the aching feeling in your core.

You watch as she cleans the toys she used on you with the same meticulousness that she does with her weapons (the ones that aren't used against you). She's only half-focused, peeking at you in her periphery. You have the same power over her as she does over you. She cannot suppress her desire anymore.

"Fuck it," she mutters, placing the vibrator on the bedside table and climbing into bed with you.

"Fuck me," you say.

"That's the plan," she says.

The next conscious thought you have is how soft her lips are despite the fervor in her kisses.

"Can I go down on you?" you ask, giving her your most irresistible pleading face.

She's usually reluctant to let you take control in that way despite the fact that it makes her cum the hardest. It feels like she's baring her soul to you when she lets go of control in those moments.

"Promise I'll take good care of you," you say. "And we can stop whenever you want."

If there is one thing she feels for you, it is love. And what is love if not trusting another person with your whole heart?

(If there is one thing you feel it is honored to be trusted and to trust in return). 

"Okay," she says, and lies down.

You let her take off her own clothes – what little is left on her body.

"You're so beautiful," you say.

"Shut up," she says, flustered, vulnerable, but most of all insistent that you are the beautiful one in the relationship. It might be the number one thing you argue about.

"Make me," you say, and the words may be cliche, but they have a near perfect success rate.

She shoves your head between her thighs and moans when your tongue swipes along her folds – groans when you pull back to say, "I want you to let yourself feel good, give yourself a birthday gift."

"I was," she whines – a rare sound, one she must’ve learned from you, "but you stopped."

Your apology is muffled against her skin, but your touch can say more than words ever could.

It's her natural instinct to push you away when she nears the edge, feeling vulnerable knowing you'll get to see her, feel her, taste her, in the most intimate way possible. So, when you know she’s about to cum, you grab her thighs, firm but gentle still, and keep your face buried between them.

She barely has time to grab a pillow to muffle her moans. You’d already gotten enough noise complaints from your neighbors, it’s common courtesy at this point. 

It takes her a moment to get her bearings straight as you've managed to completely wear her out, and you consider making a joke about her age showing, but you don't.

Instead you say, "happy birthday."

To which she replies a mumbled, "thanks" as she hoists you up so that you're face to face.

And you fall asleep on her chest before you can say anything else.

[honeybeedewdrops]

Cookie Monster | L.Norris

Summary: Lando just can't get enough of the cookies you are baking.

Warnings: None

______________________________________________________________

You were on the couch currently doing some work while Lando was gaming. You closed your laptop having finished your work. You had been craving a sweet treat recently. That is how you decided you would bake some cookies.

As you prepared everything you could hear the shouts of Lando coming from his gaming room making you shake your head letting out a chuckle.

Lando raged once again as he had died in Tarkov. The smell of your oh so famous cookies had hit his nose making him groan. "What's up mate" Max had asked. "Hang on I'll be back" Lando said leaving to the kitchen. He smiled as he watched you pull out a fresh baking sheet full of cookies.

You looked up feeling eyes on you "Oh hey Lan done gaming?" "No but I can never resist your cookies" he said reaching out taking one. "I know they are the best aren't they" Lando comes around the table and wraps his arms around you kissing your cheek. "I can never resist them no matter how bad Jon is going to kick my ass" Lando says grabbing another cookie. You chuckle scooping more cookie dough onto the tray. "Go back to your game when you're done we'll get some dinner sound good?" Lando nods grabbing another 3 cookies "Lando" you scold. He winks at you returning to his friends.

"Ok i'm back" Lando spoke "Mate what took so long" Max asks "Y/n made her famous cookies--" "The world famous Y/n cookies?" Max asks knowing the exact cookies he was talking about "yeah those" Lando said shoving another cooking his mouth. "Oh mate you'll have to save me some" Max says "No way they are all mine" Lando says "Oh come on they can't be that good" Matt says "Matt you're wrong they are like floating on a cloud." Max says "yeah i've had 4" Max laughed "4? Jon must hate when Y/n bakes" "Oh he does and I think so does my body because I aways have to work extra hard the next day to work it off" Lando says as they load into another game. Once again Lando left to get more cookies.

He walked into the kitchen and reached for another cookie before you slapped his hand away. "no more Lando you've already had 4" Lando pouts "that's not going to work on me" you say. "Oh come on Y/n please" "no" you say walking over to him. "Now go back to your game" you say kissing him and pushing him out of the kitchen. He pouts once more before going back into his gaming room.

"mate why do you keep disappearing" Matt asks "those cookies man i'm hooked, but i'm cut off " Lando says. "Why are you cut off?" Matt asks "Y/n she cut me off from her cookies" "Probably smart" Max says "I know but those cookies are so good besides I can just work it off tomorrow" Lando says. "But do you really want to do that?" Max asks "for those cookies yes" the three men laughed.

Lando had got up to go to the bathroom and had walked past the kitchen and you were no where to be found. He slowly walked into the kitchen and grabbed one more cookies before heading back to his game.

Lando had heard the shower turned on and so he got up out of his chair and made his way into the kitchen and saw the tub of cookies. He ran away a smile on his face like a kid on Christmas morning. He ate 4 more cookies before putting the tin down.

Lando had just loaded into a game when you yelled his name. He froze "ohhh sounds like you're in trouble" Max teases. "Shut up" Lando said. "Lando" you call again "Yes y/n" "Where are the cookies" "What do you mean" he said trying to hide the tin. "My cookies where are they?" You ask opening his gaming room door. "I don't know" he said as he had this guilty look on his face. "Lando..." "what" he says as his eyes drift under his desk where he hid the cookies. You follow his eyes and slide to the floor under his desk. "Y/n no" and you grabbed the tin. Lando fake gasps "how'd those get there" you sighed shaking your head "what are we going to do with you" You said teasing him. "Give me more cookies" "geez at this point I might as well call you the cookie monster" Lando laughed. "I'm sorry Y/n" "it's ok Lan don't worry but uhhh let's not tell Jon about this" Lando agreed. "You ready for dinner" You ask "yeah let just say bye to the boys and then we can leave.

"sorry boys i have to go dinner plans" Lando said "are you sure it was dinner plans or are you in trouble" "Nope not in trouble" and he disconnected from the call.

______________________________________________________________

I'm not quite sure if i like this. I hope you did. I feel like it's very poorly written but hey at least I tried it was just a random thought I had in class so I put it to the test.

-Star

[justporo]

Even more fluffy relationship headcanons for Astarion and Tav

Listen guys, I'm not done yet. For now, as soon as I get one idea out, three more pop up in my mind and since you guys seem to really like these (it's seriously and positively insane to me), I'll happily provide you more as long as I am able to. So, let's-a go: more headcanons and little ideas about them being together!

(I formerly used an reuploaded and stolen version of this gif here - I didn't check where it came from and that wasn't right - I'm sorry!)

You love when Astarion smiles at you - just openly and full of joy; the sort of smile you've rarely seen from him during your adventures but they keep getting more and more, also they make him look just so young and carefree and beautiful and your heart just... melts

When Astarion quickly notices how you basically faint whenever he does this, he starts employing it to work his charms on you when he needs it - not the real big and joyous smiles though because they are so real and cherished to him he wouldn't dare use it to tease or manipulate you - they're only reserved to make you happy

Charming you is like breathing to Astarion though, you are just so helpless against his flattery and flirting because why would you resist if you could just give him everything that makes him happy?

When you mention once though that you'd hope to gain some immunity to it some time, Astarion is insulted: "No, love, making you blush is my favourite thing in the world. You are so beautiful with your cheeks all flushed. As long as I have a say in it, we will never stop!"

Tav likes teasing him just as much as Astarion enjoys it the other the way around: "You know if you would stop drawing your brows together all the time, it'd take fifty years off your face immediately." Moments of silence in which Astarion is just utterly shocked by your burn, then: "Who taught you to be this brutal, darling?" You raise an eyebrow at him, he helplessly lifts his arms: "Yeah right, I have only myself to blame."

Also, Astarion and Tav are definitely the kind of power couple that throw each other meaningful sassy looks when they're with other people and those are talking shit or something

Also, afterwards they will most definitely discuss and gossip over everything they experienced

Astarion is definitely the kind of man that would shower Tav with gifts, from coming home with a single beautiful flower that "reminded me of you, my beautiful blossom" ("How cheesy..." "Ah, so rather a gouda next time?") or a nice bottle of wine to share to bigger gestures like jewelry or expensive dresses ("When am I ever gonna wear this, Astarion?" "I don't know, we'll just make an opportunity!")

Tav loves all of his gifts but probably the small ones or the hand-crafted ones the most, she's happy with the little things but Astarion insists she deserves the big ones just as much

One time though, Astarion comes home with something else entirely; it's pouring outside and he's completely drenched and hiding something in his doublet jacket; "What do you have there, Astarion, a wheel of cheese?" Astarion carefully opens up his jacket to reveal a small white kitten that is just as drenched as him and is desperately trying to cling to the vampire's chest. "I found her all alone in a dark alleyway, cold and completely soaked, I thought maybe we could take care of her and she could be friends with Scratch?", he says while he carefully lifts up the small ball of fluff with an incredible softness in his eyes. Your heart is thoroughly melting as you walk over to them and you give Astarion the most loving of kisses

Well, the last one would almost be a drabble on it's own, I saw a similar post that made me think of this (I will find and tag them later!) Hope you enjoyed and I'm late for work now, whoops...

This is the post I mentioned before, by @mushy6902 (I hope it's okay I wrote a somewhat similar idea, thanks for inspiring me!)

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

the black alley. l Joel Miller

Summary: you didn't expect to see him there

Warnings: +18 smut, angst, swearing, a lot of anger, mention of Sarah, unprotected sex (don't do that), fingering, possesive Joel

A/N: I'll just leave it here. scribbles.

You knew you were in trouble the moment he walked into the place. You recognized him easily, after all, he hadn't changed that much. Maybe there were a few more gray hairs on his temple, maybe he seemed more tired, but he was still the same guy.

One or maybe two years? You weren't sure how much time had passed since your last meeting. Although maybe you shouldn't count this time, after all, you didn't part on very friendly terms.

You decided to evacuate this place before he realized that you were together under one roof. You put on your jacket, finished your coffee and, trying not to be conspicuous, got up from the table.

“Is everything okay, Y/N?” Maria walked over to you quickly, taking a plate and a cup. "Maybe you'd like some dessert? I have a great apple pie."

"Maybe next time, thanks." you replied, smiling, "I think I'll go to bed now."

"It's good that you came. There's always a place for you here, you know that, right?"

"Yeah, thank you."

You looked around uncertainly and, seeing him nowhere, breathed a sigh of relief and then headed towards the exit. The place was packed that evening and you could have gotten out unnoticed, but not in this case. Not if the person hunting you was Joel Miller.

When someone grabbed your arm tightly, you knew you were lost.

"You have quite a nerve showing up here."

It was like a punch. Long after you parted ways, you heard his low voice in your head. It was driving you crazy.

"Hi, Joel." you replied, smiling weakly, "What a surprise!"

"What a surprise." he repeated after you.

His dark eyes looked at you as if to make sure you weren't a ghost. You saw that little wrinkle between his eyebrows, you didn't want to know what was going on in his head at that moment.

"Can you let me go?" you spoke first, "It hurts."

He unclenched his hand, but his face didn't change expression. God! You missed him so much. Only in your dreams did his face come back to you, but you were too afraid to meet him in reality. Now everything has changed.

"How long have you been in Jackson?" he asked, slipping his hands into his jacket pockets.

"I arrived in the morning." you replied, "You look good, Joel."

"Mhm." he muttered, nodding his head, probably not all the words reached him. "Did you come with someone?"

"I'm alone. It's better this way."

He nodded again.

It irritated you. You would rather have him scream and blurt out everything you expected to hear. During all this time, you had already created several scenarios of your meeting in your head, and almost each of them involved a gigantic quarrel full of regrets. But he just looked at you.

"Do you have a place to stay overnight?" he asked finally.

"Yes. Marie gave me a room nearby."

"I'll walk you back."

"You don't have to."

But his hand was already on your back as he led you out of the premises and into the cool evening air. It was much quieter outside and there were definitely no people there.

You had walked a dozen or so steps when he spoke again.

"I thought you were dead."

"Maybe that would be better for you." you replied without thinking, "Maybe I'm like cockroaches?"

"Maybe."

You turned into an alley between buildings where it was really dark. It was what you could expect.

A strong hand tightened on your shoulder again and soon your back hit the wall of the building.

"What the fuck were you thinking?!" Joel growled, glaring at you with fury. “I came back and you were gone! Your stuff is gone. No word on where you are or what happened!”

"I left you a note." you replied, but your words were strangely quiet.

"A note?!" Joel scoffed, "Don't be silly! I thought I probably deserved more than a few words, don't you think?"

"Yes! You deserved more, but I couldn't give it to you, Joel!" you finally faced this unequal fight "I had to do it! You won't understand it."

"Of course! I was a fucking idiot."

Joel pulled away from you and put his hands on his hips, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Well, maybe you can finally explain it to me, huh? Maybe after all this time, I'll be able to understand you?"

"It doesn't make sense, Joel. Look, it's over now, okay? We met, fine, but now we're all going our separate ways. Again."

He was like an animal. His hand cupped your face, fingers digging into your cheek, and you gasped as he pressed you against the wall.

"It's not fucking over!" he croaked, "Almost two years! Do you get that? I've buried you so many times. I deserve some kind of answer before you pack your ass and run away again!"

Everything came back to him in an instant as soon as his gaze landed on your figure. He would recognize you anywhere. In Boston, you were the closest person to him, and you just vanished into thin air.

He came home that day and at first your absence didn't alarm him. Only a piece of paper lying on the table caught his attention. A few words - "Sorry, I had to. One day you will understand. Bye." Joel quickly checked the bedroom dresser and the bathroom. You took only the most necessary things and disappeared like a stone into water. He was pissed at you like never before.

The days turned into weeks, and they turned into months, and you kept returning to his head, stabbing him in the heart each time.

He didn't know if he wished you were dead or if he was even happy to see you right in front of him. His emotions were completely bursting him from the inside.

You took his hand away from your face.

"Then leave me in this grave! What do you want to hear? What will satisfy you, Joel? I'll tell you what you want!"

"I want the fucking truth!"

"I left because I protected you! All this... WE went too far."

You remembered that one evening perfectly. His naked, warm body lay next to you. He hugged you from behind, burying his face in your neck, your hands tightly intertwined. He thought you were asleep when he softly murmured in your ear, "I think I might love you...".

But you weren't sleeping. And you didn't sleep for a minute that night. You didn't name what happened between you. Just two people trying to survive the situation they found themselves in. You were partners, and behind the apartment door you gave each other a semblance of normality.

Love wasn't safe. Love meant reckless behavior and too much attachment, and therefore - the pain of loss. You didn't want to experience this and you didn't want it to happen to Joel.

"Bullshit!" he hissed.

"We made a mistake! We were too close!" you finally stood up for yourself, your voice was strong as you blurted out everything that had been inside you for so long. "I couldn't let you go through the same thing again!"

"What the hell are you talking about?!"

"I know how you suffered after losing Sarah! I didn't want you to..."

"How dare you hide behind her back?!" Joel roared in fury, pointing his finger at you. “She didn't leave me! They took her away, she had no choice! Unlike you! Fucking coward!”

"Yes! I'm a coward! Because I loved you, idiot! And that scared me more and more!"

He looked at you angrily. His eyebrows were furrowed and his jaw was clenched. You both breathed deeply, feeling all the uncomfortable emotions coursing through your veins. Even though many words were exchanged between you, you weren't happy with this result.

Eventually you came to the conclusion that it was pointless. Jackson was pointless. You shouldn't have come to town at all. Nothing good could happen to you.

"I'm leaving tomorrow." you said, breaking the menacing silence between you. “You won't have to look at me anymore.”

"Nothing new. Y/N, Master of Running-From-Problems." Joel sneered.

"Yeah, whatever you want." resignation was audible in your voice, you slowly started to back away, thinking about getting back to your room. "I hope you find someone who will be a better person than me. You deserve it."

"Maybe, but I want you."

You didn't even have a second to react. His warm large hands cupped your face and your lips collided in a hard kiss. In an instant you broke into a thousand pieces. His tongue slipped between your lips and drew a soft moan from you. Once again you felt a solid wall behind you, but it saved you from falling. His strong body pressed against yours and his thigh slipped between your legs.

You clearly felt the bulge in his jeans, which showed that this wasn't going to end well for you. You could handle it. You wanted to feel him inside you again too much to worry about the consequences at that moment.

“Joel…” you moaned as his lips moved down to your neck, kissing and biting gently, “Joel, please…”

One of his hands squeezed your breast tightly. If Joel Miller set out to destroy you, he was on the right track.

You owe him no debt. Your hand slid between your bodies and touched his bulge, now really hard. The lips came together again.

"Tell me you want me." he murmured, barely removing his lips from you, “Tell me.”

"More than life. I want you, Joel." you gasped.

That was enough. Without hesitation, he unbuttoned your jeans and slid them down your buttocks along with your panties. God! You were grateful for the cloudy night and the dark as hell alley. Joel turned you to face the wall, sliding his hand between your thighs. You sucked in a breath as fingers ran over your clit.

"So wet already?" his voice in your ear was as low and sultry as you remembered it, and now it turned you on even more.

He slid two fingers inside you, and your nails almost dug into the side of the building. You were trapped between him and that fucking wall as his fingers moved inside you so shamelessly. And suddenly they just disappeared.

You tried turning your head slightly and saw Joel unbuttoning his jeans and freeing his hard cock. The fingers that were inside you a moment ago slid up his shaft, leaving a mixture of your juices and his precum on it.

You didn't talk. One look from him was enough for you and you knew exactly what he wanted. You knew him so well it was like you lived under his skin.

He entered you from behind in one smooth and powerful movement, and your breath stopped in your lungs. This sudden feeling stopped you both for a moment. You still fit together perfectly, in every way.

His hands on your hips tightened and didn't let go even as Joel began to move slowly.

Another dirty moan escaped your throat.

"Shhh, baby. We don't want anyone to hear us, do we?"

You nodded, but how could you be quiet as he pounded into you harder and faster. All those days without you, all the anger and frustration, was released in the way Joel fucked you and... It was amazing.

You felt him right behind you. Quick breathing right next to your ear. You started clenching around him tighter and tighter. So many days without him and it only took you a moment to cum.

"Come on, baby. I feel you." groaned Joel. “Give it to me. I'm right behind you.”

It was like a lightning strike. The air left your lungs and your muscles tensed in a pleasant shiver. Joel picked up the pace and after a while he pulled out and you felt him spill onto your buttocks.

You both stood still, gasping for breath.

"Wait."

He slipped on his pants and took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped your bottom with it. He helped you get dressed because your hands and legs were still shaking a little.

"It was unexpected." you said hesitantly, "But nice."

"Yeah. Pretty nice." Joel replied, looking at you carefully.

"Just like the good old days."

"Yeah."

You began to hear the sounds of people talking as they left the bar and headed home. Soon someone could be passing through your hideout. Joel seemed to think the same thing.

“Listen, Y/N.” he started, walking closer to you. “Stay. If not for me, then for your own peace of mind. Jackson is a safe place. I'd rather know you're safe.”

"I'll consider it." you replied, smiling slightly. “I might like this place.”

"For sure. What happened..."

"I missed you, Joel." you blurted out without thinking, "I missed you from the first step out the door. Every day I wanted to come back, but I was more and more afraid. I was sure you wouldn't want me back."

"I was mad at you, but it didn't change anything. I still love you, Y/N. And now... It's like we got a second chance. That's rare."

"So I guess we're lucky."

"Fucking lucky bastards."

You laughed softly and Joel smiled. It was his favorite music.

"Stay."

"I will."

And you stayed. Because despite everything, it was easier to go through this mess together than to try to survive alone.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[reiderwriter]

hi i love your writing

could you do something with reid loving that reader is pregnant. fluff or smut or both

A/N Hello! Thanks for the request! Dad!Spencer is the cutest thing on the planet so this is some unapologetic fluff. And now I have baby fever.

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, idiots in love. Loosely based on Haley and Hotch's conversation in 1x1. Very fluffy and probably very cheesy and sentimental too... Sorry, you give me girl dad Spencer and suddenly there isn't an impure thought in my head, I just want to lovingly stare at him like I'm the dead wife in an action movie montage.

My requests are open, check out my masterlist for more 🌸

“Okay, what about Amelia?”

“No, Amelia Dyer, Victorian serial killer. She killed multiple infants over a thirty-year period.”

“Okay, okay, how about, Myra?”

“Myra Hindley, she and her partner Ian Brady abducted and killed five children and teens in the early sixties.”

“God, not that then. There can’t be a psychopathic murderer called Belle, right?”

“You’re making this too easy for me, y’know. Belle Gunness, Hell’s Belle, she’s one of the most prolific female serial killers of all time, even 100 years after her supposed death. It’s fascinating, you know, people think that she actually faked her death - when the doctor who performed the postmortem testified, he noted that the cadaver was about five inches shorter and about fifty pounds lighter than Gunness supposedly was….” You raise a single eyebrow at your wonderful husband, and he immediately shuts up.

“I’m rambling aren’t I?” He smiled down at you as you sat curled up as much as you could in your favorite spot on the couch, the cosiest part of your shared apartment. You smiled back up at him as he leaned down for a kiss and you gladly craned your neck up in response, meeting his lips for a sweet moment.

“Hotch was right you know,” you joked when the two of you parted. “All of the best baby names have been taken by serial killers.”

“Yeah, you’d think with the ratio of female to male serial killers, a girl would be easier to name.” He leans down to kiss you again before falling into a crouch next to you, resting his head on your shoulder and placing his hand on your stomach.

“How big did you say our little girl is now?”

“Y/N, you asked me that half an hour ago. I know pregnancy messes with your brain a bit, but if you’re that bad we’re going to have to get you back to Dr Patel and see if you’re doing okay.” He was joking of course, but you showed him your little pout anyway, knowing that he loved seeing the silly expression on your face.

“Humor me, Doctor.” He strokes your stomach and moves away, but not too far away, taking up right next to you on the couch, and pulling your legs over his lap.

“At five months, she’s roughly 10 inches long with a weight of about 0.5-1 pound. But that ‘How Big is My Baby’ book would say that she’s roughly one banana in length.” You giggled up at him and he grabbed your hand and just held it, content to have you in his arms in any way, big or small.

“I can’t believe it’s been five months already,” you giggle as he presses another kiss to your hand.

“I get it. It doesn’t feel quite real yet to me, either. I thought for so long that fatherhood just wasn’t in my future, but you’re the gift that keeps on giving I guess. I don't know what I did to deserve you.” Even if the words weren’t so sweet, with all of the hormones, you would’ve started crying at anything. Or at least that’s what you’re going to tell him when he sees the small tears threatening to drop into enormous loving sobs.

“Spencer Reid, I am not a gift. I am simply the woman with the correct combination of sense and foolish luck that got to marry you.” He’d done this before, and you were used to his small habit of self-deprecating talk, but after a year of marriage and three years of dating before that, you’d managed to work him down to the occasional comment.

“Don’t try to argue about this, I’m definitely the one benefitting the most from the situation right now,” he joked with you, and you could see the genuine adoration shining from behind his eyes. It was a little spark that not many got to see, a glimpse of true happiness in someone usually so reserved.

“Spencer, you’ve given me foot rubs everyday this week, you’ve read more pregnancy and parenting books than every OBGYN and midwife in the area combined, and you’ve somehow attended more of my clinical check-ups than me, and I’m the one whose pregnant.”

“And you’re growing our child inside of you, which is itself more impressive than anything I could ever do with a book and some modern acts of chivalry.”

“Yeah, tell your boss that. I think the only thing keeping Emily from pulling her hair out over your constant absences is that she thinks she’s competing for the title of godmother. She thinks Penelope and JJ are trying to corrupt me with parenting advice and all those baby clothes Pen keeps bringing over.”

“She’s going to be crushed when she remembers we’re not religious, right?”

“Devastated,” the two of you shared a laugh on the couch, and it quickly devolved into a giggle fit after Spencer leaned over and tickled your side. You jolted away from his touch, but he was on you again, attacking your sides with small caresses, and you were gasping for breath between laughs.

“Spence stop- ahh!” Your squeals stopped as you cried out in shock. It was small but you felt something tap against your stomach. Spencer stopped immediately upon seeing your expression change, and a serious look settled on him as he assessed you for any damage.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Are you in pain anywhere, is the baby okay?” He shot out the questions rapidly, one after the other, barely leaving space to catch his own breath from the laughter of earlier.

It happened again and you put a hand to your stomach, finally realising what’s going on.

“I think I just felt her kick. Spencer, I think I just felt the baby kick.” You couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across your face, as much as you couldn’t help the tear that dropped from your eye as your hand rested against your belly again, scared to move for fear that the baby wouldn’t communicate with you again.

“What? Now? Can I- Can I try and feel it, too?” His hands hesitated at first but when you enthusiastically nodded and used your other hand to put him close to yours, you could feel his eagerness to feel the small kicks of your daughter as well.

Almost as if she was waiting for him, as soon as his hand was in the right position, your little girl kicked again, almost as if screaming “I’m here mommy and daddy,” for the two of you to hear.

“I think she’s trying to tell us not to have fun without her,” Reid whispered in your ear, kissing your tear streaked cheek, and using his free hand to rub them away from the other side of your face.

“I am so thankful everyday for this gift you have given me. And for the record, the gift isn’t the baby. The gift is the overwhelming happiness you bring to my life, and the beauty you make me see in this world. The fact that you’re going to be the mother of my child gives me the confidence to get up and go to work every morning because I know that there is joy and there is kindness and there are beautiful people in this world, and you are one, and she will be, too.”

His attempts to dry your tears are now completely vanquished as you let your emotions run wild, but you almost laugh when you realise that his eyes are just as glassy as yours, and you both sit there, overwhelmed by the pure, unadulterated joy that a small kick from a child who has yet to be given a name has bought you.