#the crush he has on JJ fades quickly

[only-one-brain-cell]

I’ll fight them

A accurate representation of me saying I’m gonna fight them:

[sequinsmile-x]

Nestle

verb /ˈnɛsl/

settle or lie comfortably within or against something.

Five times Emily snuggles with Aaron, and one time she doesn't.

-x-

Hi friends,

This got way, way out of hand, and is pretty much just 7k words of fluff.

I hope you enjoy this, and please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 7.1k

Warnings: pregnancy, minor Aaron whump, excessive use of the word snuggle

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

One

She was freezing. 

Every partner she’d ever had made fun of her for how sharply she felt the cold. It snuck under her skin and settled next to her bones, leaving her prone to shiver even in the warmest of places. Her mother had always commented on it too, making it the closest thing they had to an inside joke between the two of them - how the first thing Emily would always unpack in their new home, wherever it was in the world, was her favourite thick, fluffy blanket. 

She shivers as she pulls the thick comforter tighter around herself, making sure she’s covered up to her chin, her narrowed eyes pointed at the seemingly inefficient fire in the corner of the room. 

“Fucking Alaska,” she grumbles to herself, “It just had to be Alaska.”

She promises herself right there and then, desperately seeking enough warmth to fall asleep between flannel sheets, that she’ll never complain about the stuffy heat or fault air conditioning on Florida cases again. 

The bathroom door opens and she looks over, offering Aaron a tight smile as he steps into the bedroom. After Penelope had claimed Derek as her roommate, Spencer had quickly claimed JJ, the thought of sharing with any of the others clearly enough to make his eyes bug out in his head. Emily had sighed and rolled her eyes before she looked over at Aaron, saying that it looked like they were bunking together, muttering under her breath about how she’d heard Dave snoring through the wall enough times to know she never wanted to sleep in a room with him. 

It was only afterwards, when they stood next to each other staring at the queen-sized bed in the middle of the room, that it really hit her it would mean sharing a bed with him. That she’d be sleeping next to the man she’d been secretly in love with for longer than she cared to admit. 

She’d had a crush on him from the start. At first, it annoyed her, made embarrassment lick at her insides whenever her stomach would swoop whenever she caught a rare smile flick across his face. As he started to trust her more, as they moved slowly towards friendship, her feelings for him grew. She convinced herself it was still a crush, told herself it would fade away over time even as it got stronger and stronger. It was only when he was attacked by Foyet that she found a name for it, a four letter word she could no longer ignore when she kneeled next to a blooming spot of his blood on his living room floor. 

She knew there was nothing she could do about it, that she couldn’t even begin to think about loving him in the way she wanted to when his life was crumbling around him. Instead, she loved him in the only way she could - practically. She paid for medical expenses his insurance didn’t cover. She drove him to and from appointments and then to work when he went back. She slept on his couch one night after Haley died when Jack was stuck to her side all day and refused to let her leave. She liked to pretend that was the only reason she’d stayed, not because she was worried about Aaron, and that it hadn’t made warmth spread through her chest when she woke up with an extra blanket over her that he’d put there. 

Aaron clears his throat and nods towards the floor, “I can sleep down there if it will make you more comfortable.” 

She frowns at him, her eyes flicking between him and the space at the end of the bed, “What?” 

He sighs and puts his hands in the pockets of his pyjama pants, his shoulders tight as he clears his throat again. He feels like he’s 15 and has found himself in a room with a girl he likes. Although, it’s infinitely worse than that because Emily wasn’t just anyone. Somewhere along the way, she’d become his best friend. 

The best friend that he was head over heels in love with. 

“I can always sleep on the floor if you want the bed,” he offers again, and he watches as a series of emotions pass over her face. Confusion morphing into amusement and then irritation that never failed to make him smile, a spark of something in her eyes that reminded him of the summer they first met. The summer neither one of them had ever acknowledged. 

“Aaron, it’s fucking freezing,” she says, nodding towards the empty spot next to her in the bed, “I’d rather not trip over your frozen corpse in the middle of the night when I get up to pee so get into the bed.” 

He nods, not arguing any further as he walks the short distance to join her. She feels a wave of cold air hit her for only a moment as he pulls the bedding back and climbs under it. The size of the bed means there is barely any space between them, his thigh pressed against hers as he settles next to her. The warmth she feels is immediate, spreading throughout her from where their clothed legs meet to her entire body, she chokes on a laugh as she turns to look at him, hoping he can’t see the flush of her cheeks in the flickering light from the fire. 

“Jesus, Aaron,” she says, “You’re like a furnace.” 

He smiles softly, his dimples carved out in his cheeks as he chuckles, “Haley always complained that I was too hot.” 

She feels her heart ache for him at how his smile drops away, the guilt he felt over Haley’s death always lingering just below the surface. She elbows him gently, her smile kind as their eyes meet again, “Well, I’m certainly not complaining. It’s so cold in here.” 

“It is Alaska, Em,” he says, his smile returning in full force as she narrows her eyes at him, “It’s kind of what it’s known for.” 

She hums and settles deeper into the bedding, seeking out more warmth that only seems to be coming from him, “Well, I just hope I get warm enough to sleep.” 

There’s a moment of silence as he looks at her, his offer caught in his chest as he debates with himself if it’s the right thing to do. If it was crossing some unspoken boundary he’d put between them to protect her from him as he tried to pull his life back together, as he tried to find the courage to ask her out. His decision is made for him when she shivers again. He opens his arms before he can think about it any further, and is unable to stop himself from smiling when her eyebrows raise almost into her hairline.

“Think about it this way,” he says, pressing his lips together as nervousness rises in his chest, “I can put my ridiculously warm body to good use, and you’ll get enough sleep to work tomorrow.”

She smiles and bites the inside of her cheek as she looks him up and down, his embrace looking nothing short of heaven. “So this is about you being a good boss?”

He laughs, loud and beautiful and it makes her stomach swoop, “More about me being a good friend.” 

She stares at him a second before shifting closer, a contented sigh escaping her before she can stop it as she settles against him, her head on his chest as he wraps his arms around her, “God,” she says to herself, “Where the hell were you when I used to stay in the Alps with my grandfather.”

He smiles, “Get some sleep, Emily. I think tomorrow is going to be a long day.” 

She hums, her eyes already closed as she settles into him, melts into the warmth she already knew she was addicted to. 

Neither of them mentions it when they wake up even more wrapped around each other. 

___

Two

“He’s asleep again.” 

Emily smiles as she turns to look at her boyfriend. She loved him like this. Relaxed and content in his apartment, his usual suit replaced by sweatpants and a t-shirt as he walked down the hall from the bedroom to the living room.

“Is he okay?” She asks, pulling the blanket over her legs back as he sits down next to her. She places it back over his lap and scoots closer, immediately finding her place in the crook of his arm, her head against his shoulder. 

“He’s fine,” Aaron replies, smiling at her concern for his son, “I gave him some more Tylenol and he went back to sleep.” He tugs her closer and kisses the top of her head. He takes a moment to breathe her in, to remind himself again that she was here with him. That she was his. “I’m sorry we had to cancel date night.” 

She frowns as she turns to look at him, her eyebrows pinched together in confusion, “You have nothing to be sorry for, honey,” she says, cupping his cheek and running her thumb back and forth over it, “Your son is sick,” she leans in and kisses him, tasting the scotch he’d been drinking on his tongue, “And you know I love just…sitting here with you,” she kisses him again, “My perfect date night is snuggling with you on the couch and watching a movie I’ve seen a hundred times so we can make out.” 

She’d told him once that she didn’t need, or particularly want, expensive dates. Her smile wry when she saw his eyes pop out of his head at the price of a single entree at a restaurant he’d chosen, clearly unaware of just how expensive it was before then. She’d quietly paid the bill when he wasn’t looking, and when they were back at hers she explained she’d been on countless dates in countless expensive restaurants throughout her life, and that wasn’t what mattered to her, that she was happy whenever she was with him no matter where they were. He wasn’t sure he believed her until the following morning when they went for breakfast with Jack, all packed into a tiny bright pink booth giggling and talking over pancakes, her smile wider than it had been the night before. It was moments like that where he saw forever in her smile, his future pressed into it like the dimples in her cheeks. 

Their relationship was still relatively new, but he felt the weight of his future in it. Not heavy and oppressive, but something he never wanted to put down. A welcome addition to his life, something he could share with her. She was coming back to herself more and more each day, some of her he’d always been in love with shining in her eyes, and he liked to think he had something to do with that. She’d done the work all herself but he’d been by her every step of the way, his offer of help and guidance bringing them to exactly where they were now - curled up on his couch under a blanket she’d dubbed as her favourite. 

“Well,” he says, cupping her cheek and dragging her in for a kiss, “I’ll never say no to that.” 

She smiles into the kiss and wraps her arms around his neck to pull him closer. She shifts into his lap, her legs across his as she all but tries to sneak under his skin, his embrace her favourite place to be. She’s just about to suggest that they skip the movie and the snuggling on the couch and head straight to his bedroom, her skin warming the moment he sneaks his hand under her shirt, her stomach rolling in anticipation, when she hears a little voice from behind them. 

“Daddy, Emmy, I still feel icky.” 

She immediately pulls back from Aaron and looks at Jack, any embarrassment at being caught making out with the little boy's father lost the moment she looks at him. Her heart aches at the sight of him standing behind them, his skin slightly pink from his fever and his hair and pjyamas askew from tossing and turning. 

“Buddy, I thought you went back to sleep,” Aaron says, his hand slipping out from Emily’s shirt, hidden from view from where Jack was standing behind the couch. Jack shakes his head and rubs his eyes. 

“Woke up again,” he grumbles, scrunching his nose up, “Head hurts.” 

Emily exchanges a quick look with Aaron, he smiles at her and nods, love blooming in his chest at her unasked question. She looks at Jack and then pats the couch next to her, “Come here, sweetie,” she says, smiling when he walks over, his movements more sluggish than normal, “Me and Daddy were about to watch a movie and cuddle.” 

“I love Emmy cuddles,” Jack says, sinking into her side, his head against her chest as she arranges the blanket around him too.

“Me too, Jack,” Aaron says, wrapping his arms around them both, his whole world snuggled up in his embrace. “And do you want to know a secret?” He asks, and the little boy looks up at him, an expression that was all Haley painted across his face as he nods enthusiastically, ‘Emily’s cuddles are magic.” 

Emily hides her smile in the top of Jack’s head at the way Aaron whispers, a conspiratory tone to it that makes her stomach flip for entirely different reasons, imagines of him saying the same thing to a little boy or girl who calls her Mommy briefly overwhelming. She presses a kiss against his sandy hair, unsure if the warmth she feels is from his skin or the flush in her cheeks. 

“Really?” Jack asks, his eyes wide as he looks between the two of them, and Aaron nods.

“Really,” he confirms, winking at Emily when she looks up at him, not put off by the slightly embarrassed look in her eyes. He runs his hand up and down her side and smiles softly, “I always feel better after a hug from her anyway.” 

She rolls her eyes, her lips pressed tightly together as she desperately tries and fails to hide her smile. She stamps her lips against his before she rests her head against his shoulder, sighing contentedly as Jack snuggles deeper into her embrace, the weight of him against her chest a comfort she hadn’t known for long, but knew she now couldn’t live without. 

“What movie shall we watch then boys?” She asks, smiling when Aaron pinches her side, the action in no way deterring her from calling them that in future, because they were her boys. Her Hotchner boys. 

“Frozen?” Jack offers, and both of the adults suppress a sigh, knowing that they could barely say no to him on a good day, let alone when he was sick. 

“Frozen it is,” Aaron says, kissing both of their foreheads before he sneaks out from under them to find the DVD. He makes quick work of getting it into the player and he slips back into the huddle they’d formed on the couch, drawing them back into his arms. He presses his lips against Emily’s ear, whispering so his already half asleep son, lulled into it by Emily’s warmth and her hand rubbing circles on his back, won’t hear, “He’ll be asleep before that damn Do You Want to Build a Snowman song.”

Emily nods and turns her head, her lips catching his chin, “I know, but once we have him back in bed we can go back to the making out.” 

Suddenly, Aaron doesn’t care if he has to watch the damn movie a thousand times in a row, as long as he had her with him.

___

Three

She paces back and forth in the waiting room, her nerves fraying further with each passing minute, the mantra of ‘if he’s still in surgery, he’s still alive’ getting less useful as time went on. 

It was only meant to be an interview. A conversation with someone they thought was just a witness until the moment he pulled a gun on Aaron and Dave. When Dave called her, an edge to his voice that had immediately given him away before he could say anything, he said it had happened quickly. That the guy had pulled the trigger before they could react, Aaron down with his hand pressed against his shoulder in seconds. Dave had taken the guy down and called an ambulance and then her. 

Derek had driven her to the hospital, one hand on her shoulder and the other taking the keys from her as he joked that Aaron would kill him if he found out he let her drive in the state she was in. She was grateful for it but hated that he could see right through her, that her carefully constructed defences were torn down at the mere idea of a life without Aaron in it. 

She paces so she doesn’t run, fighting against every instinct so deeply ingrained in her that they were like breathing. She wanted to fight for the life she had now, for the house she’d just bought with her boyfriend. For the porch that she’d insisted on and the swing for it that he said he’d build for her. For the spare bedrooms that the realtor had said would be perfect nurseries. 

She didn’t want to run anymore, but she doesn’t know what she would do if she lost him. If she had to slowly forget how it felt to be loved by him, how it felt to be held by him. The warmth of him pressed up against her fading away along with the smell of him on their sheets. 

“Family of Aaron Hotchner?” 

She turns so quickly it hurts her neck, a pull in the tendons that she barely feels as she walks over to the doctor she’d briefly spoken to earlier, “That’s me.” 

Sometimes it felt strange to be part of a family again - something she’d found with the team first and then something different and new with Aaron and Jack. It felt good but strange. She hadn’t realised she’d been chasing it for years, searching for how it felt to love unconditionally and be loved in the same way, right up until she was in the middle of it. 

“He’s in recovery now,” the doctor says, holding his hand out to lead her down the hall. She follows willingly, barely remembering to look back at Dave to thank him for staying with her, desperate to see Aaron as soon as possible, “We were able to get the bullet out,” he explains, “He’ll need some physical therapy, and he’ll have some pain for a while, but he will make a full recovery.” 

She thinks she must sway a little, because the doctor reaches out to steady her, his hand on her arm as she blows out a slow breath and nods, “Okay, thank you. Can I go and sit with him?” 

“Of course,” he says, pointing towards the room Aaron was in, “There’s still another hour or so until visiting hours come to an end. He should wake up soon.” 

She smiles tightly and nods before she turns and heads to the room she’s been directed to, her skin itching to touch his, an ache in her ribs she knows won’t ease until she sees him. 

When she steps into his room, it almost looks like he’s sleeping. The soft, relaxed look on his face she was used to in the comfort of their home familiar, but tainted by the bandage she can see poking out from his hospital gown, the paleness of his skin, and the cannula tucked into his nose delivering him oxygen. She walks over and sits on the edge of his bed and touches his hand. She sighs at the coolness of it, so unlike him, and she sandwiches it between both of hers, hoping desperately to press some of her warmth into his skin, to bring him back to her. 

The first time he wakes up he isn’t lucid. It’s only for a few minutes but they break her heart, his confusion and pain taking over as he almost looks through her. She presses her forehead against his and talks him back down, a single tear breaking free and slipping down her cheek as he falls unconscious again. 

When he wakes up for real, the first sign is the way he squeezes her hand. She looks up at his face, watching closely as his eyelids flutter, lashes that were unfairly long casting flickering shadows on his cheeks before he looks at her. 

“Em?” 

“Yeah, it’s me,” she says, scooting closer, half hunched over him as she pushes his hair from his forehead, “It’s Emily.”

“What happened?” He asks, his words collapsing into each other as her slurs, pain and exhaustion affecting him just as much as the medication in his system.

“You were shot, sweetheart,” she says, gently scratching at his scalp, something she knew soothed him just as much as it did his son, “The bullet chipped some bone so they had to do surgery. You’ll be laid up for a little while I’m afraid.” 

He huffs out a breath, his brows furrowing together, “As long as you’re laid up with me I don’t mind.” 

She laughs and shakes her head before she leans in to kiss his cheek, “I don’t think you’ll be up to anything more than snuggling anytime soon my love.” 

His frown deepens to the point where he looks like Jack when he doesn’t get his way, an edge of petulance to it that almost makes her pull her phone out of her pocket to take a photo, well aware that none of the others would ever believe her. 

“Come here,” he mumbles, patting her thigh instead of the bed next to him, as if he was unaware of how close she really was. 

“I’m already next to you.” 

He grumbles, “No, get into the bed with me.” 

She sighs and her teeth sink into her lower lip as she was torn, half of her wanting to do exactly as he’s asked, because all she really wants is to press herself up against him, to prove to herself that he was okay, and the other half too afraid to hurt him.

“Aaron, baby,” she says, running her fingers through his hair, “I don’t want to hurt you.” 

He shakes his head, his brows so furrowed they wrinkle together, the dent she loves to press her thumb into at the bridge of his nose making an appearance, “Never could,” he says, squeezing her hand, “I need a magic Emmy Hug.” 

She rolls her eyes but knows the battle has been lost before it had truly begun, “You and that son of yours could convince me of anything.” She slips off her shoes and climbs beside him, carefully arranging herself on his good side. He immediately tucks his head against her chest, just like Jack did whenever he was sick or hurt, and he snakes his arm around her back, using strength she didn’t think he’d be currently capable of to bring her closer, “Better?” 

“Much,” he says, turning his head just enough to kiss the skin closest to him, his lips catching on the swell of her breast, “You make everything better.” 

She wraps her arm around his head, her fingers tangled in his hair as she scratches his scalp again, hoping to lull him into some much needed sleep, “You make everything better for me too.” 

They fall into contended silence, his breath skipping across her skin the comfort she’d needed in the hours she’d spent in the waiting room. 

“You’ll have to go home soon,” he says eventually, his cheek against her collarbone, “Visiting hours will be over soon and that nurse out there doesn’t look like she’d be intimidated by your badge and gun.” 

She chuckles dryly and tightens her grip on him, her cheek on top of his head, the smell of disinfectant and blood in place of his cologne making her stomach turn, “I’ll stay until she throws me out,” she replies, kissing his forehead, “Our bed is far too big and cold without you in it.”  

He hums, “I don’t know why we bothered getting the super king,” he grumbles, “We’ve always been snugglers.” 

She hums and traces her knuckles up and down his cheek, “That’s true,” she says, “All that space gone to waste.” 

“Not to waste,” he says, his words slurring even more, a sure sign he was about to fall asleep, “We can just fill the space with our kids.” 

___

Four

Emily tries, and fails, to suppress a yawn as she settles into her seat on the jet. 

“Here you go, sweetheart.” 

She smiles up at Aaron as he places a cup of tea in front of her before he slips into the seat next to her, his hand automatically finds its place on her thigh as he sits down, his palm warm and comforting even through the material of her pants, “Thanks, honey.” 

He frowns, concern bubbling in his gut when her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. He wishes they were home already, that the 6-hour flight they had drawn out in front of them could be gone in the blink of an eye. “You okay?” 

She nods and places her hand over his on her leg, linking their fingers together as her eyes meet his, “I’m okay. It was just a long case, that’s all,” she rests her cheek against his shoulder, too tired to care that they weren’t alone and that the team always looked at any insight into their relationship with keen interest, “I’m just looking forward to getting home.” 

He kisses the top of her head, ignoring how he can feel Derek and Dave’s gazes burn into them from the other side of the table, “Me too.” 

“I always forget how…snuggly you two can be,” Derek says, a teasing smile on his face that fades as Emily kicks him under the table, exclaiming in pain even though they all know she didn’t do it hard enough to hurt, “Ow.” 

“I don’t know why it always surprises you so much,” she grumbles, making a point of wrapping both of her arms around one of Aaron’s, hugging it to her chest and snuggling in closer, her face half pressed into his shoulder, “We are a couple. We’re getting married,” she says, lowering her voice and fake whispering, “Sometimes, we touch each other.” 

“According to what you said on our last girl's night it's more than sometimes,” JJ says, raising her eyebrow as she looks up over the top of her book from where she is on the bench seat, her smile wry. 

Emily narrows her eyes at her friend as she feels her fiance tense next to her, his feelings about her sharing details of their sex life well known. “We also said what is said on girl’s night, stays on girl's night.” 

“How is wedding planning going?” Spencer asks, as keen to move the conversation on as Aaron was, his cheeks tinged pink as JJ laughs at him and pats his back. 

Emily groans and turns her head to press her forehead against Aaron’s suit jacket, feeling his rumbling laugh more than she hears it, “Between my mother and Penelope I think I’m slowly going insane,” she mumbles, pulling back to look at her friends, their smirks doing nothing to make her feel better, “We should have just eloped.”

“Oh hell no, fuck that noise,” Derek says, leaning back in his chair, his hands cupped behind his head, “I want to get drunk. On your dime.” 

“My dime,” Dave cuts in, his smile wide as Emily glares at him. 

“We’re paying for the booze, you stronzo and you know it,” she says, raising her eyebrow at him. She fights another yawn and squeezes Aaron’s arm against her chest, “I appreciate their help-” she’s cut off as Aaron scoffs and she looks up at him, rolling her eyes when he does nothing more than raise an eyebrow at her, “Okay, I appreciate Pen’s help, my mom…she has an opinion on everything and it’s exhausting.” 

“This week she asked me if there was something different I could do with my hair,” Aaron says wryly and everyone laughs, including Emily, the memory of the way he’d looked at her mother a fond one, one of the rare times he let his mask slip in front of the ambassador.

“You could always join a boyband,” Spencer jokes, a self-satisfied grin on his face as everyone laughs again. Conversation flows between them all, lighthearted and easy after a difficult few days finding a monster they’d been called to hunt. 

It felt pointless sometimes. Every big bad almost immediately replaced by the next, another beast in the dark waiting to be found. It was hard. A difficult job that Emily knew she might not always have the stomach for, but it was worth it for moments like this. For time with the people she considered her family and the joy they found in amongst all the awful things they had survived and seen. 

She muffles a yawn against Aaron’s shoulder and he kisses the top of her head. She looks up at him and realises they have a brief moment of privacy, everyone else either asleep or having a conversation amongst themselves. 

“Why don’t you get some sleep, Em,” Aaron says, tucking some of her hair behind her ear, “I’ll wake you up just before we land.” 

She wants to argue with him, wants to say she’s fine, but she’s being lulled into it by the warmth of his arm she's cuddling against her chest, by the comfort his smile was bringing her. She nods and turns her head to kiss his palm, “You’re not getting your arm back.” 

He laughs and kisses her forehead before he nods towards the paperwork in front of him, and the pen next to his left hand, “Why do you think I made sure you sat on that side,” he says, winking at her, “You can nap and I can carry on working.” 

She hums as she closes her eyes, “Truly the best of both worlds.” 

“You two really are sickening-” Derek starts, cut off when she kicks him under the table again, “Ow, damn it, Em.” 

___

Five

They both laugh as they half-stumble into their hotel suite, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck as he heaves her against his chest, one arm around her back and the other hooked under her knees.

“Don’t drop me!” 

He kisses her cheek twice in quick succession as he kicks the door shut behind him, “Never,” he says, kissing her cheek again, “You’re precious cargo.” 

She smiles widely as she shakes her head, kissing the underside of his jaw, “And you shouldn’t be carrying me.” 

He sits on the edge of the bed and keeps her in his embrace, settling her into his lap, “It’s tradition that I carry you over the threshold.” 

She hums, her lips pressed together, her smile so wide her cheeks ache with it, “Well,” she says, brushing her fingers through his hair, “That may be true,” she leans in to kiss him, “But I’d rather not start married life with you hurting your back.” 

It had been the perfect day. 

Everyone told her that it would fly by, that it would pass in a blur of happiness and tears and joy. And it had. She had enjoyed every second of it, from the moment she saw Aaron and Jack at the end of the aisle in their matching suits, to them officially becoming husband and wife, to their first dance. She knew she’d treasure the memory of slowly dancing with him on the dancefloor forever, her cheek against his as they whispered how much they loved each other. 

It reminded her of a moment at JJ and Will’s wedding, Clyde’s offer of a new job ringing in her ears as she danced with Aaron, their relationship fresh and delicate at the time. It had been a crossroads in her life, a moment where if she’d made a different choice she’d currently be living an entirely different life in a different city. She’s sure she could have been happy, but she knows it wouldn’t have been like this. 

“You aren’t heavy,” he replies, kissing her, unable to stop himself now that she was his wife. A moniker he’d wanted to call her for so long.

She chuckles, “Yet,” she kisses him deeply, letting herself get lost in it, her hands threading through his hair as he grips her waist, his fingers slipping against the white satin of her dress. She groans and rests her forehead against his, “I know it’s our wedding night and we’re meant to have a lot of crazy gymnastic sex and everything…” 

He hears the guilt in her voice, how she avoids his eye contact as she trails off, and it makes him smile, love for her blooming in his chest, the flowers of it crowding his lungs and making it hard to breathe for a second. 

“Em,” he says, hooking a finger under her chin, his smile soft as he encourages her to look at him, “You can tell me anything, you know that.” 

She nods, her tongue peeking out to lick her lower lip, “I’m just…so tired,” she says, leaning forward and resting her forehead against his cheek, “I don’t think I’m up to more than snuggling and eating all the dessert room service can possibly deliver us in bed.” 

He smiles and kisses her forehead, running his hand up and down her side, “I figured you’d be tired,” he says, “Which is why in about 30 minutes the caterers will be delivering the leftover wedding cake to our room.” 

She lets out a disbelieving laugh as she pulls back to look at him, “Really?”

He nods, leaning in for a kiss, “Really,” he says, cupping her cheek, his thumb pressing into the dip caused by her dimple, “Laying in bed with you in my arms just happens to be one of my favourite things to do.” 

She presses her lips together and shakes her head, stamping her lips against his, “You’re the best husband I’ve ever had.”

“Seeing as we’ve been married for approximately 4 hours, I’ll wait to see if I can beat my own record.” 

She laughs and kisses him once more before she slips out of his lap, “I don’t think you’ll have any trouble, honey.” 

They get ready for bed, following the same routine they did at home, exchanging sleepy smiles in the mirror as they brush their teeth next to each other. When she climbs into bed next to him, wearing the shirt he’d married her in, she sighs contentedly as he pulls her against him, her back flush with his chest. He kisses the back of her neck as his hand drifts to her stomach, his palm against the bump only they knew about. 

“Do you think anyone noticed?” He asks, rubbing gentle circles on the skin below her belly button. She shakes her head and places her hand over his, linking their fingers together. 

“No,” she replies, turning her head to kiss him, her lips catching the corner of his, “I think they were all too drunk on the wine we paid for to notice I wasn’t drinking anything.” 

They’d only started trying a couple of months ago. She was sure it would take a long time, if it happened at all, so she was as surprised as she was delighted when she took a test only three weeks ago that came back positive. She hadn’t quite believed it and had made Aaron go out to buy more tests, something he’d done so quickly they didn’t realise he’d gone out with odd shoes on until they were staring at six positive tests on their bathroom counter. 

She was happy. Deliriously so. And for once, she was letting herself feel it. She didn’t feel like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like she was waiting for something to take away everything she finally had. She was just living in it. Enjoying the soft, happy, ending she could finally believe she was due. 

There’s a knock on the door and Aaron pulls her closer for a moment, kissing the back of the head before he climbs out of the bed, taking all the warmth with him. 

“That will be the cake.” 

She pulls the covers tight around herself as he goes, watching him disappear towards the front door of the suit. 

“Hurry back,” she calls after him, burrowing further under the covers, one of her hands still pressed against her belly, a soft smile on her face as she flicks her thumb back over it, “It’s fucking freezing without you in here.” 

___

+ One

She grunts as she tries to get comfortable, her hand on her bump as she adjusts the pillow under it, the movement of her daughter shifting under her skin making her smile despite her discomfort. 

“You’d better be as cute as your brothers are sweet girl,” she mutters, casting a glance at her sons sleeping on Aaron’s side of the bed, her smile getting impossibly wider at the sight of them fast asleep and snuggled against each other, Jack’s arm over Elijah’s back as he held his little brother close, “Who am I kidding,” she says, turning her focus back to her belly and she rubs another circle on it, “You’re going to be adorable.”

She sighs as she feels another kick, and she knows she’s in for a long night. She wished Aaron was here, the bed empty even with Jack and Elijah within reach, and not just because she missed him sleeping up against her. His voice calmed the baby down, something about the low, strong tone of it that stopped their daughter from keeping Emily awake all night. Elijah had been the same, prone to rolling around and kicking against her ribs until Aaron would lay so his face was level with her bump, his cheek against the top of it as he softly spoke to him about anything and everything, his voice soothing both her and their unborn son to sleep. 

She’s just about to get up, to go downstairs and get the ice cream she’d been thinking about all evening, when her phone vibrates on the nightstand. She picks it up so the boys don’t wake up, smiling when she sees her husband’s name flash on the screen as she answers.

“It’s like you have an inbuilt alarm in your head that tells you I’m about to eat something unhealthy,” she grumbles, settling back down. 

“Hello to you too, sweetheart,” he says, and she can hear the smile in his voice.

“Hi,” she replies, “How are you?”

“Tired. I miss you and the boys,” he says, sounding every bit as tired as she felt, “And baby girl of course.” 

She hums and strokes over her bump, “I think she misses you too, she’s kicking like crazy,” she looks over at the boys again, “Jack and Eli are fast asleep on your side of the bed.” 

He chuckles, exhaustion sewn into the sound, and she can picture him sitting on the end of the bed in his hotel room, his shirt sleeves rolled up, leaning forward his elbows on his knees as he speaks to her, “That super king is finally paying for itself.” 

“Well, I think we’d need to have a few more babies to fill it all,” she says, cutting him off before he can even say anything, practically able to hear his smile down the line, “Don’t get any ideas into your head, Aaron Hotchner. I’m still pregnant with your daughter.” 

“Why is she always my daughter when she’s keeping you awake?” 

“Because it’s your giant feet that she’s inherited that are currently lodged in my ribs,” she quips, hissing when the baby kicks almost in response, sharp and strong against her lungs, “I wish you were here. I always sleep better when you’re here,” she says, closing her eyes, wishing that somehow just hearing him over the phone would help trick her body into relaxing, “And not just because you’re apparently the Hotchner baby whisperer.” 

“I sleep better when I’m with you too, sweetheart. I’ll be home-” 

“Mama?” 

She looks up and sees Elijah is awake, his eyes bleary as he rubs at them, unknowingly cutting over his father on the other end of the phone. 

“Eli’s awake,” she says, smiling at her 2-year-old as he shifts towards her, removing himself from the still-sleeping Jack’s embrace. She encourages him closer and puts the call on speaker phone, “Want to say goodnight to Daddy?”

Elijah nods and rests his head on her pillow, curled up on top of her bump as he pulls the phone to his ear, “Hi Daddy.” 

“Hi buddy,” Aaron says, “You sleeping in the big bed with Mommy?” 

Elijah nods, “Jackie too, we look after Mama and baby sister.” 

Emily smiles and runs her fingers through his dark hair, “You’re sweet, baby. Say goodnight.” 

“Night, Dada. Miss you.” 

She doesn’t miss how Aaron sighs, the sad sound in it that wraps around her heart from thousands of miles away, “Night buddy, I miss you too.” 

Emily takes the phone off speaker and holds it to her ear, “I should get him back to sleep, and try to get some myself.” 

“Of course, sweetheart,” he says, “Love you all so much.” 

“We love you too. Speak tomorrow.” 

She sighs as she hangs up, depositing the phone down on her nightstand before she turns her attention to her son. He has his hand on her bump, his eyes wide as he feels the baby move under his palm. 

“Baby.” 

“That’s right, sweet boy,” she says, encouraging him closer, settling him as comfortably against her as she can, “That’s your baby sister.” 

She cups his head against her chest and lightly scratches his scalp, a trick that had lulled him to sleep since he was a tiny newborn, something she hopes will work on her daughter too. 

“Love you, Mama.”

She kisses the top of his head, “I love you too.” 

She may not be able to snuggle against her husband tonight, she may not be able to fall asleep surrounded by the warmth that followed him like a cologne, but she certainly had the next best thing. 

-x-

Tag list:

@ssa-sparks , @ptrckjcne , @lyds102 , @glockleveledatyourcrotch , @hotchnissenthusiast , @danadeservesadrink , @ssamorganhotchner , @emilyprentissisgod , @notagentprentiss , @freesiasandfics , @emilyshotchniss , @thecharmingart , @paulitalblond , @hancydrewfan , @camille093 , @whitecrossgirl , @moonlight-2-6, @rawr-jess , @florenceremingtonthethird, @jareauswife , @ms-black-a , @beebeelank , @aubreyprc , @zipzapboingg, @psychopath-at-heart , @criminalmindsgonewrong , @fionaloover , @kinqslcys , @prentissinred , @ccmattis-22 , @denvivale317 , @thrindis , @hotchsguccitie , @cmfouatslota77 , @alexblakegf , @aliensaurusrex, @prentissxhotch , @emobabeyy , @victoiregranger , @stormyweatherth , @wanderingdreamer009 , @ssablackbird , @luhwithah , @lex13cm , @prentisstheorem, @dont-emily-me , @mrs-ssa-hotch , @jocyycreation, @itsmytimetoodream , @hotchnissgroupie, @controversialpooh, @capsshinyshield , @canuck-eh

Join my tag list here!

[surftrips]

gorgeous

pairing: jj maybank x reader

summary: y/n has been infatuated with jj maybank for a long time now and their paths finally cross at the annual bonfire.

word count: 1,063

author's note: 100% inspired by taylor swift's song gorgeous because who am i if not a swiftie?

Did you have a boyfriend? Yes.

Was it anything serious? No.

He was a couple years older than you and your friends, and you had kind of stumbled into the relationship by accident. He was new to the island and everyone had their eyes on him, and it felt good to be the one to call him yours.

However, now that the novelty of your new relationship had worn off, you found yourself increasingly consumed with a new infatuation: JJ Maybank.

So when you were invited to the annual Bonfire, you didn't hesitate to say yes, knowing that JJ would also be in attendance.

You and him had interacted a few times in the past. When you were younger, you went to one of those drive-in movie nights with him and the Pogues and he had touched your hand. It was dark, so no one else could see, but after that you couldn't stop thinking about the warmth of his hand on yours.

That was a while ago, and tonight you were hoping you could ignite some of that spark.

In order to be brave enough to go up to him, you had to get a few drinks in your system. So while your boyfriend was out doing you don't know what, you were slowly working up the courage to talk to JJ with each shot you took.

You looked at him from across the party and thought about how much you hated how cool he was. He was the kind of guy that everyone liked (except maybe the Kooks), but he got along with everyone else and always seemed to have a girl around his arm.

Hadn't he thought about the consequence of his magnetic field being a little too strong? How was any girl supposed to compete when he had a line of women waiting for their turn?

Anyway, you had somehow managed to reach his inner circle and were making small talk with Kie and Pope. You and Kie had been friends for much longer than the rest of the Pogues, but if she didn't know about your little crush on JJ by now, she definitely would by the end of the night.

The entire time Kie was talking to you, you kept stealing glancing at his gorgeous face. You hated him for it. In fact, you were furious that he made someone as confident as you feel this way.

You couldn't seem to say anything to his face, so you asked Kie if he had a girlfriend. "Why do you want to know?" she looked at you curiously.

"I don't know, just wondering, I guess."

"Well, the answer is no. You think if he had a girlfriend, they would let him flirt with half of the female population on this island?"

Pope added, "Besides, he is not the commitment type."

"I could change that..." you whispered under your breath. The fact that he was single was honestly worse, clearly you had a thing for catching guys that everyone else pined after.

"What was that?" Kie asked.

"Nothing!" You quickly downed the rest of your drink so she didn't suspect anything. "I'm gonna go grab another drink!"

Speed-walking away from what could've been an awkward conversation, you almost ran into a boy at the bar.

"Ah! Sorry!" You apologized and guess who turned around? Yeah, only the boy that you have been eyeing/avoiding all night, JJ Maybank himself.

His ocean blue eyes looked in yours and you felt like you might just sink and drown and die. Not to be dramatic or anything, but there was nothing you hated more than what you couldn't have.

"Oh, hey! Y/N, right? I haven't seen you in a while." He broke the silence that felt like ten years, but was probably only ten seconds.

"Yeah, that's me." Whenever you were around JJ, your usual extroverted self completely faded away. You completely melted under his gaze.

"Hey, where's your boyfriend? Last time I heard you were shacking it up with that new guy."

You tried not to act flattered that he was keeping up with your relationships. "Oh, he's around. Not sure with who or doing what. Don't really care."

He chuckled. "Care for a drink?" He offered you what was in his hand and grabbed another beer from the cooler.

"Yeah, thanks." At this point, you didn't know how much alcohol was in your system, but it still wasn't enough for you to speak to him like a normal person.

Not sure where this conversation or lack thereof was going, you avoided his eye contact and started to turn around back towards Kie and Pope.

"Hey- Y/N, wait." JJ gently grabbed your arm and pulled you back.

You felt like you were going to faint.

"How come you're talking to everyone here but me?"

He wasn't wrong. You were definitely known to be a social butterfly, so you had spent the entire night floating from person to person making small talk or just taking shots.

You snorted, "You should take it as a compliment."

Your answer seemed to throw him off, "What?"

What came out of your mouth was a surprise to you both, "I can't say anything to your face, because- look at your face! I hate you for making me feel this way... just being around you makes me so happy but it turns right back to sad when I realize that you're not mine."

You could see JJ mentally process what you were saying in his head. Out of all the girls he talked to that night, you definitely stood out with your boldness. He always admired that quality about you.

On the other hand, your brain was catching up to what your mouth had revealed and immediately regretted being so open to him. He was probably thinking about how drunk and lame you were being. "Listen- JJ, I'm sorry, I don't know where that came from. I'm just going to stumble my way home now..."

He stopped you before you made it another step, "No- hey. Will your boyfriend mind if I come along?" He smirked, having never faced rejection a day in his life.

You looked around and spotted your boyfriend with his arms around another girl. "You know, I don't think he will," you smiled, already making a plan to breakup with him tomorrow.

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

“Are you trying to turn me on or are you really just that oblivious?”

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

CW: implied/fade to black smut, enemies(ish) to lovers

Word Count: 1080

It’s his fault he’s so annoying. It’s entirely his fault that his stupidly cute face has a stupidly cute noise that crinkles when he talks. Not that you’d ever admit it, he's probably more cute than annoying. Slightly, very slightly. So it's either ignore your crush or focus on the aspects of Spencer that annoy you. Coincidentally, those aspects are some of very things you find endearing.

Which makes it all too hard to share a room with him. Usually, room assignments are solo, but in more remote locations the team doubles up. JJ and Emily, Hotch and Derek, and you and Spencer. Everyone pairs up, leaving you and Spencer as the leftovers. Between your snoring and Spencer's terrible sleep habits, you're members of the team that no one wants to room with. The universe, as it seems, has it out for you.

"Derek," you whisper, carefully out of Hotch's earshot, "please, please let me room with you," you plead, "I'll do your paperwork for a month,"

Smiling at you charmingly, Derek purses his lips before gesturing to Spencer. He, like the rest of the team, knows your mixed feelings about Spencer, "you know, I don't think Penny would like me shaking up with you, nor would someone else," he says secretively, before sneaking a glance at Spencer, who's head is buried in a book.

"Please, Morgan, don't flatter yourself," you say, teasingly, smiling at Derek's smirk, "besides, you know he hates me,"

"Reid doesn't hate you, Y/N. And you don't hate him, no matter how much you try to convince me," Derek says, giving you a comforting squeeze on the shoulder, "he'd be lucky to be with someone like you, and you'd be lucky to be with him. No matter how gross it is to imagine two people I see as my little brother and sister, I think in your case, the line between hate and love is a little thin," he says, stretching his stiff arms and legs.

"When did you get so wise?" you ask, hating yourself for wishing you didn't believe his words.

"Penny," he says, as if it's the perfect answer. Because it is.

"Of course," you say, turning on your heel as you follow the rest of the team to the hotel rooms.

***

Spencer was silent as you puttered around the room with your hair in a towel and wearing a men’s Henley that you can’t remember buying. He reads, laying on the bed with his glasses resting on his nose. You haven't said a word since you decided who was getting what bed and even though you tried to convince yourself that you didn't want to talk to him, you knew you were lying. The stupid little dance you to with Spencer is akin to a Catch-22; and you’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t.

"So the case," you start, sitting on Spencer's bed, he wears mismatched socks, one Halloween pumpkins and the other Christmas trees, "it's uh going well," you say, your voice trailing as you fail to hold conversation with him.

"Yeah," Spencer says, not looking up from his book. Angry that he's not paying attention to you, you crawl over, resting on your heels, so you're sitting right next to him. You grab his book, taking it right out of his hands and tossing it on the floor.

"Don't yeah me, Reid. You've been ignoring me the whole time we've been in this room," you say, feeling your face grow hot as Spencer's gaze doesn't falter. His eyes scan over you, and suddenly you’re so conscious of the shirt that hangs off your shoulder and your hair that’s wet and knotted.

"What's wrong with you?" you ask, getting more and more frustrated when his playful look turns into actually annoyance.

"What's wrong with me?"

"Yeah, Reid. What the hell is wrong with you. You always have a snarky little comment to make to me. Maybe it's I drink too much coffee, which is just hilarious coming from you. Or I'm to risky with the unsubs,"

"Y/N, I don't want to hear it," Spencer says, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, "you're so impossible I just want to scream," he says.

"Spencer, you're the one that just makes it impossible to work with you. I try so hard to get you to like me. I read you stupid books, I watched fucking Dr Who, but you just seem to hate me. We’re going to finish this right now. I can’t keep pretending that I hate you when I love you,” you shout, hating the tremble in your voice.

"What?" Spencer says, unsure, himself of the turn in conversation, "you want me to like you? You love me? he questions, saying the words, but no believing them in the slightest.

"God, you such an idiot, Spencer. I never hated you. I love you so much I hate you. And then I hate you so much I love you,"

"That's not logical, but I love you too and that’s not logical either so, uh" Spencer says, reaching across the bedspread to lace his hand in yours. He squeezes and that's enough for you right now, "I'm sorry that I was being an ass. It's just, uh, it's a little embarrassing and I don't want to say something that will make you feel uncomfortable,"

Suddenly worried that you hurt him, you drop his hand immediately, but hate the cold absence you're left with. You're embarrassed yourself so you shift your weight, trying to find a comfortable spot on the lumpy mattress.

"I'm so sorry, Spence. I don't know what I did. It's just, I'm so used to you giving me shit and when you're not. I think I did something to hurt you. And now I know you like me back and that is just nuts. But if I did something to offend you or make you uncomfortable..You know what I think I'll see if JJ and Em will let me crash on the floor," you say, quickly getting up from the bed to get the hell out of your shared hotel room.

"Don't leave," Spencer says, tugging on your arm, "You didn't do anything, Y/N," he tells you, "It's just, are you trying to turn me on or are you really just that oblivious?” Spencer asks, smirking when your jaw drops at his slightly lewd question.

"Spencer," you say, "I, uh," you stammer, unsure of this side of Spencer, but curious to see more of him.

"You're wearing my shirt," he explains, reaching out to pull it up your shoulder again, "and it's very hard for me to concentrate when you're wearing my clothes,"

You bring you hands to reach behind his neck, pulling him close into a long awaited kiss. You smile through it, reveling the way his soft lips melt against yours and his glasses press up against your cheeks. Spencer lets out little sighs of something you hope is relief or happiness. The kiss, nervous and shy at first becomes slow and languid. He takes his time kissing you, pressing small touches into your skin, whimpering as you pepper kisses all over his face.

His hands, hovering over you shirt-covered shoulder, the shirt, his shirt, slips down again, but this time Spencer catches it. He doesn’t push it back up, but instead, kisses you bare skin. His lips press words of apology into your skin. All of the times, hundreds of times when he could have been doing this all along. Word of regret, missteps and mistakes, miscommunication and actions misconstrued.

You stop him, standing up and smiling at him in the warm hotel lighting.

"Oh," you say, sitting back down, this time practically on Spencer's lap, "well, I suppose we can fix that by me taking it off," you suggest, throwing the shirt into the middle of the floor with Spencer's book, long forgotten by the pair of you.

[spencestyles]

The Other Woman

summary: spencer and meave have a toxic relationship after saving diane and the new agent doesn’t help

pairing: meave x spencer, spencer x BAU!reader

warnings: angst (lowkey), cursing, broken relationship, fluff

words: 4k+

~~~~~~~~~~

Ever since the team and I stopped Diane from killing Maeve, things were different. When I dreamed about meeting Maeve, I thought things would be perfect, we would be a match made in heaven. But after finding out important things she felt to leave out (like she was engaged), the spark was seeming to fade and just genuinely getting to know her personality. Of course our new agent wasn't any help either.

y/n y/l/n

She was different from any other girl I had met. She was smart and a great listener, she was determined to keep learning. She didn't try to outsmart me like Maeve had begun to do. Her biggest talent and asset to the team was her interrogation skills.

"Brian, I know how you are feeling," y/n said to the unsub. "You are upset your dad left you and upset that he left you with your mother."

"She was never a mother," Brian screamed. "That dirty whore didn't know her left from her right."

"The girls?" y/n asked. "Did they know their right from their left?"

"I wouldn't know, I didn't do anything to them," Brian said.

"Well I do, I looked into their background, all single mothers, husband left. They weren't dirty Brian, they were doin-"

"YES THEY WERE. They are all whores. I tried to help them, to help their children. But they were just like she was, a whore."

Since the first day she arrived, I've been enthralled by her presence. Maeve asked to move in around a month ago, I said no. She was so upset it was almost pitiful. It had been an argument that continued for weeks and was heated tonight at our at home dinner date. "Why, Spencer, why can't I move in with you?" She yelled at me.

"Because I barely know you," I yelled back, quickly calming down. "We may have been talking on the phone, but we have known each other in person for five months. I just, Meave, I'm going through a rough time at work. It wouldn't be good for you to move in right now." I made a large breath as Maeve roughly stood up from the table.

"Is there someone else?" Maeve asked. "That new agent, (wrong name), or whatever-"

"y/n"

"Like I said, whatever. Are you talking to her, is there something going on?"

"Maeve, there is nothing going on between y/n and I," I explained. "She is a new agent, she is young, she is like I was when I joined the BAU. I am just trying to help her get settled."

"Why can't JJ do that? She was young when she joined."

"Because JJ was the communications liaison then, she didn't become a profiler until two years ago."

"Whatever," Maeve said, grabbing her purse. "I'm leaving, I need to think."

Thank God

"Ok, we need to talk about this," I said. Maeve muttered something before slamming the door.

Moments like this made me question the relationship I created with Maeve. Maybe it's because I never really knew her. I knew her job and that she was smart, but I didn't know how clingy she was or bitchy and competitive. I don't blame Diane for being so upset. Why was she so upset about y/n, I mean y/n is gorgeous and smart. But she is so young, she's only 24. Tomorrow was going to be a good day, tomorrow I was finally going to make some decisions about Maeve.

Waking up the next morning felt like a chore. The sound of my phone going off was much worse than my alarm clock.

"Reid."

"Spencie, it's y/n," the angelic voice I was longing to hear was music to my ears at 3 in the morning. "We have a case, JJ called me and told me to call you. Which thinking about it is a little strange- wait that's not the point of this call. I need you to pick me up."

"Yeah I can come get you," I said rushing around. "I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"Thanks Spencie, I owe you big time."

Running around my room, I tried to pick my best outfit. y/n loved when I dressed in blue or purple, so I decided I would dress in blue this fine morning. My light blue button down and my tight navy pants, made me look a sexy professional as I would say, so would Derek (and hopefully y/n). I hated driving, but I would never tell y/n that, she is too cute when singing in the car for me to say no to her.

On my way to her apartment (which was very small and in a terrible area), I began to think about what y/n said on the call. JJ called me and told me to call you. Why wouldn't JJ just call me. I mean I do tell JJ about my problems with Maeve and my schoolboy crush on y/n, but she was so upset when I first said it.

"Maeve is literally your dream girl Spence, why are you trying to stop that? And for y/n, now I know she is smart and wow, she is hot, but Spence, she is 24. She still has a lot of growing up to do. Also, I didn't work my ass off to save Maeve for you to end things with her."

JJ was right, y/n was too young and too naive to know what she wanted. Hell, I didn't even know what I wanted. I fell for a girl over the phone and then realized she's not at all what I thought. I should have known.

Arriving at y/n's apartment building I texted her a quick 'here' before noticing her car tire had been slashed. The passenger door opened and y/n sat down handing me a large coffee in her typical reusable to-go cups. "y/n you didn't have to bring me coffee," I said.

"Spence, it's three in the morning and you are driving," you said with a straight face. "I brought you the coffee so you wouldn't fall asleep at the wheel and we would die." I laughed before taking a big swig of the drink and heading to the office.

"I saw your tire had been slashed, what happened?"

"I don't know, JJ called me so I went out to get my go-bag from the car because I left my good mug in it and I saw the tire was slashed. I have no idea how it happened or why, it's really annoying though, I just got new tires." The situation with y/n's tire was strange, I mean she lives in a complex where nearly twenty cars are out front if they aren't in the back lot. Why only her car? Maybe it was nothing special, just a coincidence.

y/n heard my phone ring and looked at the screen, "It's Maeve," showing me the screen. "Why is your girlfriend calling you at 3:30 in the morning?"

"I have no clue y/n, leave it to ring out. I'll get to her later."

This has happened before. When I drop y/n off from a case that ran late or after a night with the team. I get calls and texts from Maeve enraged. Does she honestly not understand we work together. We live less than six minutes from each other, so when we ride together it's not like either of us are going out of our way.

After spending most of the car ride singing to Taylor Swift, we arrived at Quantico and rushed to the elevators. We weren't late, but y/n liked to be early so she didn't look sweaty for the team.

"Why do you hate looking sweaty?" I asked her.

"Well, when our Unit Chief is a TOTAL dilf, I'd like to at least look nice," she said smiling. I frowned. "Kidding Spence, not totally, but I like to look nice because I am still proving my spot on this team and good hygiene is very respectable."

Of course she has a crush on Hotch, not that she has daddy issues or anything. But they are so close and the validation he gives her is a bit too much to be work appropriate. I'm honestly just so glad its not Derek she has a crush on.

"That makes sense, I'm going to call Maeve to she what she needed," I said stepping towards the conference room. "She's been calling me non stop." y/n nodded as she rubbed paper towels on her armpits.

Right as I was about to dial Maeve, her name flashed across my screen, "Hello."

"Spencer, what the hell," she screamed. "Why were you at y/n's at three in the morning."

"Maeve, tell me where I am right now," I said.

"You are at work Spencer," She answered. "But that is besides the point. Why did YOU pick her up?"

"BECAUSE WE WERE GOING TO WORK AND SHE LIVES SIX MINUTES FROM ME," I yelled, tired of her assumptions and bitchy, clingy behavior. "JJ called y/n and told her to tell me we had a case and her car's tire was slashed so she asked for a ride. There is no harm in that."

Maeve let out a large breath, "I don't want you around her anymore."

"What, I can't do that, we work together," I laughed.

"Quit," she said shortly. "Or tell Hotch that she is terrible to work with and isn't qualified for the team."

"Maeve, you are angry. I'm not quitting and y/n is very qualified at her job, Hotch wouldn't believe me."

"Then why do you help her if she's qualified?"

"I told you that last night, this conversation is over." I hung up the phone hearing her protests. I looked over and saw the team looking at me, they obviously had heard the interaction. y/n looked confused. Why was she being brought into this?

The team walked into the conference room, "Garcia, you can begin," Hotch said. Turning to me he said, "We will talk about this before we leave." I nodded. I didn't listen to Garcia presenting the case, but I looked at y/n. She looked like she had been crying, I don't know why, hopefully it wasn't me. After the presentation, Hotch gave us thirty minutes to gather ourselves before we needed to be on the jet.

He pulled me into his office, "What was that in the conference room?"

"Maeve thinks I'm cheating on her with y/n," I said. "It's not a big deal."

Hotch looked at me sternly, "Well it becomes a big deal when our newest agent tells me she should transfer because she doesn't like that she's interfering with your relationship. Now y/n cannot be transferred, she is an asset to this team and the team loves her. You need to sort your shit out with Maeve." I nodded and walked out the door over to y/n's desk where she was getting her small things together.

As soon as she saw me walking over, she began to walk away, "y/n wait."

"I'm going to see Penelope," She said, not looking at me. Even without looking directly at me, the tear stains were evident.

I looked over at JJ who had seen the whole interaction, "JJ what do I do?"

"Well Spencer, you need to either break up with Maeve or get over your crush on y/n," She said sarcastically. "In my opinion, you should break up with Maeve anyway. After hearing that phone call, I think she sounded toxic and manipulative. Give y/n some space, she just got a lot thrown at her. She thinks she's a homewrecker."

I sighed, "I know I need to end things with Maeve, but I feel so horrible."

"You feel horrible even though she treats you like that?" JJ asked, shocked.

"I just don't want her to think I led her on or I actually was cheating on her with y/n."

"You may not be cheating on her with y/n, but Spence," I looked up at her. "You like y/n, you can't deny that. y/n still is the other woman, whether its intimate or not."

JJ was right, I was about to walk up to Penelope's office when Derek reminded us we had to leave. Looking ahead, I saw y/n talking with Hotch. She looked upset and Hotch looked concerned, but when he looked over at me, he was pissed.

As we made it to the entrance of the jet, I told JJ and Derek I would meet them on the jet, wanting to talk to Hotch, "Hey, what did y/n say to you?"

"She told me this was her last case," Hotch said. "She gave Strauss resignation forms and is going to be an elementary art teacher. Now she isn't even transferring. Fix this now or you will be suspended from cases and you will be staying back and doing paperwork until I see fit. You and your relationship problems should not have led to y/n leaving the team."

To say I was shocked was an understatement. y/n was leaving the team. She was leaving because of me. Because I was so enchanted by her smile and the slight gleam in her eye.

Worst of all, she isn't even staying in the FBI. She is going to do the job she said she always wanted to do after the FBI. y/n always told me she wanted to stay in the FBI and then when it got to be too much, she wanted to teach art.

You may say I'm a terrible person for basically emotionally cheating on Maeve, but Maeve and I would never work in the long run. She may have been my back then, but she will never be my forever.

Walking onto the jet, I felt the hostile stares of my teammates. y/n sat at the corner of the jet, alone, reading her favorite book, Little Women. While the book is very boring in my opinion, I understand the appeal to y/n. A strong female lead who doesn't believe in the common standards in her time period. Much like Jo March, y/n was strong willed. She always put up a challenge to the ideas she opposed.

I unfortunately, was Theodore Lawrence in this situation. In love with Jo March, but I needed to show it to her. The only and strongest difference was that I am in a relationship.

I need to end it with Maeve.

That however, will be easier said than done. Maeve is much like Amy March: annoying, greedy, easily angered, jealous, and most of all the one that is settled for.

But no, I, Spencer Reid, will not settle for Amy, I am going to get Jo.

I was walking over to y/n when I was stopped by Rossi, "Don't make it any worse than it already is, kid." Appalled, I looked at him and then the team. Their faces all said the same thing only Rossi was able to make into words. I decided to sit not near them and not near y/n. I sat by myself and created a plan to keep y/n at the BAU.

The plan went as so:

1. Convince y/n to stay and explain relationship problems with Maeve

2. Break up with Maeve

3. Tell y/n what truly happened with Maeve (phone calls, kidnapping, and after)

4. Tell y/n feelings (and pray she feels the same)

This plan was definitely going to be easier said than done. The hardest part being breaking up with Maeve.

The case wasn't eventful and easy to figure out. The unsub was killing people who looked like his wife that left him at the altar. Not once did Hotch put me with y/n, understandably. Instead, y/n spent her time with JJ and Hotch.

I decided to not talk to anyone because I needed to devise my plan. I needed to break up with Maeve, but make sure I kept y/n out of it. That was going to be the challenge, Maeve was going to blame the break up on y/n. I decided to text Maeve a quick 'jet is landing. I'm coming over. We have things to discuss.'

I turned off my phone, knowing Maeve would start blowing it up. The jet landed and I went to begin step one, but Derek stopped me from going towards her further, "Pretty Boy, I know you want things to get right with Pretty Girl, but give her space. Just a little and sort things out with Maeve. After hearing what JJ and y/n have said about her, you should end things.

I nodded and sprinted to my car, seeing as y/n got a ride with Penelope. The ride over to Maeve's house was tense, even though I was alone. I couldn't stop thinking of the outcomes that could occur tonight.

Making it to Maeve's apartment, I kept reciting all the things I could say to her.

"I don't feel a spark anymore." Decent.

"You are a controlling bitch." Too harsh.

"I never really knew you." Getting there.

"I think we need to try new things." Fuck. I had made it to the door and I didn't know what to say without the possibility of hurting her. Breaking up with her is the only thing I can do to save my friendship with y/n. Its also the only thing I can do to save myself from this toxic mess of a relationship.

I knocked on the door and it was immediately opened by a very angry Maeve, "Spencer, finally you are here. You were taking so long I thought something may have happened, were you with y/n?"

"No Maeve, I wasn't with y/n," I sighed. "In fact we aren't even talking."

"Well that's perfect," Maeve said. "Why do you look upset about that?"

I looked at her surprised she didn't understand, "Because Maeve, she heard our fucking fight yesterday morning over the phone. She isn't talking to me because she thinks she ruined our relationship-"

"She did-"

"NO SHE DIDN'T MEAVE!" I screamed. "y/n is leaving the team because you are jealous of anyone in my life. First it was JJ, so I pushed JJ away. Then Derek, so I pushed Derek away. You have ruined all of my friendships with my coworkers and are now making work a living hell. y/n didn't ruin our relationship because it was already fucking ruined Maeve. How did you not see it?”

"What? Spence?" Maeve went to touch my arm.

I stepped away, "No Maeve, this is over. We are over. After we stopped Diane, I thought we would be perfect. But we aren't, we aren't good for each other at all. Whenever I accomplish anything at all, big or small, you fucking disregard it and talk about something you did. I am helping y/n, I like y/n. y/n is nice and she listens to my facts and she doesn't judge me for having feelings."

"Spencer, do you think I do that?" Maeve asked with a fake sweet act.

"Think? No Maeve, you do all of those things. Yesterday you told me to quit my job or tell Hotch y/n wasn't qualified. You should be supporting me. This relationship is not good for me. I am leaving, none of your stuff is at my place so you don't need to come over ever again." I quickly left the apartment, ignoring Maeve's pleas for forgiveness.

Sitting in my car, I quickly drove off to y/n's house. I needed to see her, to explain to her what had been happening.

YOUR POV

When I met Spencer, he was my mentor. Very quickly after that however, he became my best friend on the team. Since we lived so close together, it was common for us to carpool to and from work and work events.

I quickly learned about Maeve once I began to get closer with Spencer. Spencer's manipulative, psycho bitch of a girlfriend that was out to ruin my life. I had never done anything to try and involve myself in their relationship, but when they have problems it's always my fault.

After hearing Maeve and Spencer's phone call, it was a no brainer for me to leave the team. However, I knew that wasn't enough for me to get rid of the taunts I had been receiving from Maeve. And by taunts I mean she slashed my tire. I was offered a job at one of DC's most prestigious private schools to teach art and after the phone call, I decided to take it.

Now, I wasn't upset that Spencer didn't like me back. I was upset that Maeve was making him decide between us when nothing had ever happened. I thought Spencer was cute, definitely, and there were times when we were a little too touchy or flirtatious. But, I saw it as Penelope and Derek and I'm sure he did too.

I sat in Penelope's car trying to focus on the road whilst she was screaming at me, "WHY ARE YOU LEAVING? You can't leave y/n. You just got here and we like you here. Maeve and Spencer have had problems for a few months, it's not because of you. JJ and Maeve also got in a fight because he thought Spencer was too handsy with her and I've barely ever seen them touch.”

"Pen, I'm leaving because I have a great job opportunity," I tried to reason. "I was eventually going to take it, but I don't want to hurt Spencer's relationship." Penelope sighed, giving up her attempt to have me stay. We got our Wendy's before Penelope went to drop me off.

As Penelope drove up to my apartment, I noticed a figure standing in front of my house. It looked familiar.

Spencer

"Pen, so you think I can stay over tonight?" I asked.

"No, go talk to pretty boy, have him explain," Penelope responded.

I walked up to my apartment, Spencer looked at me. His face lighting up under my front porch light. He had flowers in his hands. Daisies. "Spencer, what are you doing here?"

SPENCER'S POV

"Spencer, what are you doing here?"

"If you'd let me in I think you need to know what has been happening," I said handing her the flowers.

"Okay, come in," She said grabbing the flowers and unlocking the door. "That you for the flowers."

"Daisies are your favorite," I said quietly. "You never told me, but you always said you liked the name Daisy for your daughter and I just assumed."

"You guessed correctly Spencer," y/n said putting the daisies in a jar.

I sat on her couch, the one I had sat on to watch countless episodes of Dr. Who when I needed to get away from Maeve.

"Can I explain?" I asked as she walked over with a coffee.

"Sure Spencer, but I don't think any explanation will make me stay," she answered.

I sighed, "Well you know the whole Maeve back story right?" she nodded. "Well after we saved her things were great. I was happy, so happy and so in love. But around the time I started to die down from the holy shit you just almost died phase, I began to notice all the flaws and toxic traits in her and our relationship."

y/n nodded, "And you couldn't see any of that before because you only ever talked over the phone?"

"Correct. Maeve, she is very smart. So smart that she often would say things to undermine the fact I went into the FBI and as she would say instead of something useful. At first I thought it was a harmless joke, but when she began to say things like that in front of the team, it crossed a line. When I confronted her, she accused me of lying, saying she never said anything like that. She has always been decently jealous, she was jealous of JJ and even jealous of Alex Blake. Blake's spot is the one you filled, she was like a mom to me. Now, she is jealous of you.”

y/n looked motionless, "Why is she jealous of me Spencer?"

I looked over at her nervously, "y/n we are very close right?"

"Yes, Spencer, you're like my best friend."

I nodded, "yes and Maeve didn't like that. She was very jealous of you because at one team dinner before you joined, Garcia showed us a picture of you from Instagram. When everyone saw the picture, everyone was like wow she is so pretty and you know, you are very gorgeous and I'm a bad liar so I agreed. Maeve and I got into a huge fight because of that. Ever since, she is like really jealous and then we sorta became a mentor, mentee relationship because you are so young and I was so young when I joined.”

y/n looked surprised. Did she not know the team thought that about her. However, y/n nodded, telling me to continue.

"Then I realized how close we lived and we started to carpool and hang out. This was when the aggressive texts and phone calls began. The team knew I needed to break up with her, but I didn't want to make it look like we were seeing each other, you would never like someone like me.”

y/n laughed, "She was jealous because we carpooled? Did you know she was the one that slashed my tire that morning, I got a clip of it on my Ring doorbell."

"Seriously? Sounds about right. Anyway, I broke up with her. She isn't what I want y/n. I want to be with you. And I know you might not like me and-"

y/n cut me off with a laugh, "Spencer are you serious?" I looked at her confused. "I have had a crush on you since I first met the team. I was heartbroken when I found out you had a girlfriend."

"Actually?"

"Spence, why would I lie to you?"

"Will you come back to the BAU?"

"I'll talk to Strauss, but I think if we want to do anything we should wait. I don't want people to actually think we were having an affair."

I laughed, "Definitely not. You were the other woman though. Kept me up all night thinking, dreaming. You infatuate me y/n y/l/n."

"Well I am very glad we got that done with," y/n said. "Watching you with Maeve was like watching the end of Derrick and Addison's relationship on Grey's Anatomy."

"What?"

"Never mind Spence, we will have to save this topic for another day."

—————

in light of the recent allegations against mgg, i will no longer be posting mgg content. however, mgg is not spencer reid, spencer reid is a character. please understand that at this moment i am working on a new username

* IF ANYONE HAS NEW USERNAME IDEAS PLEASE SEND THEM TO ME or i may just be changing to spencerscumslut

[something-fanfiction-ie]

The Years

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: *SMUT* So you embarrass yourself in front of Derek and Spencer, the details of the case are mentioned and are a little intense, and smut. Like, rough, Spencer smut because there is nothing you can say that could convince me that Spencer Reid is a bottom. And swearing.

A/N: AH THE ENDING PROBABLY SUCKS BUT I TRIED REALLY HARD I PROMISE. Also, this is ridiculously long and not all of it is smut. For a hot second this WAS an OC story but I thought you guys would enjoy a self-insert more so I changed it. LOTS AND LOTS OF THANKS TO MY FAV FIC WRITER AND NEW TUMBLR FRIENDS, @reidmorefanfics and @pomsephone Y’all are the best. Also, remember to shower me in reblogs, comments, asks, messages, likes, and anything else you can think of to boost my ego. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND THANK YOU GUYS FOR READING!!!

___

“Actually, that reminds me of a joke that I know.” At the front of the crowded lecture hall, a young Dr. Spencer Reid looks over at his partner eagerly, a smile already splitting his lips apart. Derek Morgan, however, looks over at his partner with a mixture of fear and secondhand embarrassment.

“Reid, I don’t think-” Morgan tries to save him, he really does, but Reid tucks his hair behind his ears and ignores him by starting the joke.

“Einstein, Heisenberg, Newton, and Pascal are playing hide and seek. Einstein covers his eyes and begins counting. While Heisenberg and Pascal run off and hide, Newton takes out some chalk and marks a square on the ground with a side length of exactly 1 meter, then sits down inside the square. When Einstein is finished counting and sees Newton sitting on the ground, he yells, "Ha, I've found you, Newton!". Newton however replies, "No you haven't! You've found Pascal!’”

A short, surprised laugh joins Spencer’s small chuckles, dragging his eyes to the location the sound had come from. Derek looks too, completely taken aback that anyone other than Reid had actually understood the joke. Yet, lo and behold, a young girl sitting in the front row with her cheeks stoplight red and her hand nervously covering her mouth.

Proudly, Spencer nods for Morgan to end the talk, his chest a little puffed out and a smug smile twitching at his lips. They wrap things up quickly, eager to grab some food after leaving campus and before heading back to the BAU.

When Spencer turns to gather his things, grabbing his bag, he notices the soft shuffle of feet against the hardwood flooring of the stage. A pair of black converse peek into his peripheral vision, attached to a pair of long legs that make Spencer blush for noticing at all. Lifting his eyes further, he meets the shy gaze of the only person who had laughed at his joke. It came as no surprise when he sees that your tee shirt had a picture of a cat with the words ‘Wanted: Dead and Alive’ in block lettering.

“Dr. Reid,” Your left hand comes up to push a stray lock of hair away from your face, a single gold band wrapped around your left index finger, “I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I just, uhm, I had a couple questions?”

Looping the strap of his bag over his head and letting the familiar weight of it settle against his hip before he responds, Spencer ignores the way Derek looks at him by pretending he isn’t there at all.

“Of course,” Spencer meets your eyes, which are a beautiful shade of (y/e/c). “I like the shirt by the way. I’m not usually much of a t-shirt person, but I might wear one like that.” You laugh, shifting on your feet and twisting the ring on your finger.

“Thank you, I got it as a Christmas present. Along with ten billion other nerdy t-shirts. But uhm, I was curious how old you were when you joined the FBI?” Morgan holds his tongue, pretending to shuffle papers around and not pay attention to the poor girl’s crush.

“I was twenty-two. I finished two of my doctorates the year prior.”

“I thought you had to be twenty-three? I’ve always wanted to join the FBI as soon as I could but I thought I had a little more time. That’s what I read anyways. I could be wrong, you would know more than I do.” You looked down at your shoes, kicking the toe of one converse into the wood, your hair falling forward over your shoulders.

“No, you’re right. I had an age waiver. You’re eighteen? Nineteen? You’ve still got some time to prepare.”

“I’m seventeen, actually.” Your lips skewed to the side, the confession barely above a whisper as you continued to stare at your feet. Spencer blanched, unable to contain his surprise. He was quick to school his features, though, when you finally looked back at him.

“You’re seventeen and you understood his joke?” Morgan couldn’t help but cut in now, stepping away from the table he’d been pushing papers around on and toward the two younger people left in the room.

“A pascal is a unit of measurement equal to one Newton per square meter. By sitting in a square meter, Newton was being one newton per square meter. Which is, again, equal to a pascal. So he was Pascal.” A smile had worked it’s way past the nerves that jumped around your body. You weren’t very used to talking to young, attractive, intelligent doctors who worked for the FBI.

“Although, even if I hadn’t understood the science behind the joke I might have still laughed. You see, there is this thing called the Halo Effect, which is basically a cognitive bias you might develop based on your initial impression of someone that can change how you feel about their specific traits. Essentially, one example would be that someone you find attractive may seem funnier or more intelligent simply because you find them attractive.”

It takes all of a second for your face to turn beat red as you realizes your nervous ramblings have made you reveal the silly crush you had started to develop on the young doctor. Derek’s lips purse in amusement when he sees the similar shade of red that has colored his partner’s cheeks.

“Not that I’m saying I find you attractive,” Your heart stops cold in your chest and you are quick to retract the statement. “Not to say you’re ugly either, because that’s not what I’m trying to say at all. Just that my first impression of you as a nice and attr- I mean, intelligent man could have very well made my amusement slightly biased because I was more willing to like you based solely on my first impression of you. Which was that you are very nice and, and intelligent.”

It takes all the willpower in the world for you not to throw yourself down the stairwell later that day, the embarrassment having barely faded even hours later. The two men had been quick to assure you they knew you weren’t saying you had a crush on Dr. Reid, but they were obviously just trying to protect your feelings. They wouldn’t be FBI Profilers if they couldn’t tell you had a crush on him. The conversation was pretty much over after that, you being suddenly desperate to make an escape and Dr. Reid just as eager to leave the campus grounds.

The whole team teased him about his teenage fan for months after it happened, Derek had been quick to let everyone know when they came back. Reid had tried to hide from them by scrunching down into his seat and covering his face with a book, but it hadn’t helped him at all.

Eventually though, both you and Spencer were able to move on from the embarrassing moment, though neither of you forgot it. Those moments where you’re all alone and the most embarrassing moments of your life come to creep up and embarrass you all over again? The memory always came back during those moments.

The team, however, seemed to forget about it, Gideon and Elle leaving and Rossi and Prentiss replacing them as the years faded the memory for them.

It wasn’t until JJ took her new position at the Pentagon and Ashley left after her brief consultation on the case in New Mexico that the memory came back to truly haunt you both.

The whole team had heard whispers of a ‘probationary agent’ that would be stepping in to assist wherever needed. Hotch was good at keeping quiet and avoiding questions on the matter, somehow keeping Penelope just as much out of the loop as the rest of the team.

No one was even sure when the new agent was supposed to be coming until the glass doors to the BAU opened and in stepped a young woman with (y/h/c) hair and (y/e/c) eyes. Derek squinted his eyes, your face tickling the back of his memory in a way that annoyed him. Spencer tensed, his eidetic memory quick to remind him of the seventeen year old girl that had basically confessed she thought he was cute, and then called him ‘not ugly’ to try and cover her tracks.

“Agent (Y/L/N), nice to finally meet you.” Hotch said, holding the door open as you nodded your thanks and slipped inside his office with a box in your arms.

“That must be the probationary agent.” Prentiss directed the comment at Reid, oblivious to the resurfaced embarrassment that boiled his cheeks to that same shade of red he’d been in that lecture hall seven years ago. He kept his book up in front of his face while he tried to cool his cheeks, looking over the top of the binding and into Hotch’s window.

You’re sitting ram-rod straight in the seat in front of Hotch’s desk that is closest to the door, your box of things clutched tightly in your white-knuckled hands. Your hair is still the same length, swaying at your shoulders. You’ve switched the Schrödinger’s cat shirt for a deep velvet red dress shirt with the sleeves rolled at your elbows.

But even with the obvious nerves displayed in your current body language, it’s easy to see you aren’t the same stuttering seventeen year old Reid remembers. You holds steady eye contact with Hotch, nodding and fluidly responding in such a way that the usually stoic unit chief actually breaks into a grin that dimples his cheeks. When he stretches over his desk for a handshake, your left hand comes up and grips Hotch’s firmly.

“I’m glad it’s a girl, it was starting to feel a little too testosteronie around here with JJ gone.” Garcia had made her way into the bullpen, a cup of tea balanced in her bejeweled fingers as she, and the rest of the team, size up the girl heading for Hotch’s door.

“I don’t think ‘testosteronie’ is a word, baby girl.” Derek teases, trying to ignore the nagging feelings that he knows this girl from somewhere. Maybe they’d met on a case? But no, that doesn’t feel right.

“It is now, Derek. Don’t argue with me or I’ll have to punish you.” She brings the lip of her cup up, sipping at the lukewarm tea still inside and patting Morgan’s cheek with her free hand. Hotch’s door finally opens again and you step out after Aaron.

A hush falls over the room, all eyes trained to the newest and now youngest member of the team.

“We’ll do introductions on the plane, for now I need everyone in the conference room for a case.” Hotch is quick to make eye contact with everyone, his gaze stern and demanding.

Spencer is the last one into the room, practically dragging his feet to one of the chairs around the circle table. Thankfully, you were sitting across the table. Somehow you haven’t seemed to notice him.

“Yesterday Dawes County police found the body of Julia Hastings along a hiking trail in Kladon. This is the second body they have found in the area in two weeks, the first belonging to Heather Greenaway. Both victims are in their early to mid twenties. Hands and feet bound, buried face down. Each victim was struck once in the back of the head, making cause of death blunt force trauma.”

From your spot at the table, you glance up with narrowed eyes as you open the file you’d been given at the beginning of the meeting.

“Where did they disappear from?” Reid asks, a connection forming in his brain as each picture and detail flies up from Garcia’s tablet and onto the projected pictures before them.

“Night clubs around the area, they were working on the night they each went missing. Both girls were bartenders, had been working at their new jobs a week before they were kidnapped.”

“Justin Millers had the same M.O., kidnapping new female bartenders fitting this exact victimology and holding them hostage for a course of five days, beating and raping them before eventually hitting them on the back of the head with a tire iron.” You don’t look up from the file as you speak, flipping through the pictures and quickly noticing the small odd similarities in the victims between this case and Millers’ case.

“Millers has been locked away for a year and a half.” Derek pointed out, using the opportunity to stare at the face of the girl he was sure he knew but still couldn’t place. When you look up at him, your eyebrows furrowed in a way that reminds him of Reid and your head tilted just a little to the side, he can feel his brain grab onto the memory just before it slips back through his fingers.

“I’d guess a copycat. Something seems different, I just can’t put my finger on it.” Your gaze slides over the table, looking at faces to get a gauge of their opinions on you. When you make eye contact with Reid, your eyes widen just a little before you duck your head. You should have known he was still here at the BAU, you’d only hoped he’d went to another unit out of desperation for this job.

“We’ll look into that theory, for now I just want a profile as if this unsub is working from his own killing preferences. We’ll discuss more on the way there. Wheels up in thirty.” Hotch stands, flipping the cover over the top of his iPad before making his way out of the room. Go bags are grabbed, certain persons avoid bumping into other certain persons, and then the eight hour plane ride to Kladon, Nebraska begins.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Emily tests the name on her lips, having chosen to move by the younger girl after the fourty five minute theory discussion that started the plane ride.

“You can call me (Y/N/N), that’s what my best friend calls me.” You had popped the first two buttons open of your dress shirt and slipped your shoes off to tuck your feet underneath you. Tucked between your thigh and the arm of the seat is a book with a Greek title, in your hands is the open case file.

“Just your best friend?” Rossi asks from across the way, just as curious about the new girl as the rest of them, but a little better at hiding it.

“She’s really my only friend.” You shrug, but not in such a way that you seem bothered by the fact. You reach up to push a strand of hair behind your ear. Reid notices the gold ring that still circles your left index finger, light coming from the window glinting off the metal when you move. It’s the only jewelry you wears.

“A bit of a loner?” Derek joins the conversation, moving up the aisle of the jet with a cup of something hot cradled in his hands. He takes the seat directly in front of you, blowing at the liquid in his cup.

“I was more focused on getting through school than making friends. Emma just happened to be the only person who wouldn’t let me shake her.” There’s a smile on your lips as you talk about your best friend, your eyes soft.

“What did you go to college for?” Derek is fishing, looking for something to tell him where he knows you from. It amuses Reid, who has sequestered himself into a corner a little further away from you than everyone else.

“I have a masters in philosophy, with a focus in Ancient Greek philosophy. I have a bachelor’s in Greek, which is the only other living language I can speak and read outside of English, and I have two doctorates; one in Classic Studies and one in Criminology.” Rossi whistles, shaking his head and leaning back into his seat to express what everyone else is feeling.

“You young people just keep getting smarter and smarter. You know how many doctorates I had at your age? None. You know how many I have now?” You look at him with genuine curiosity, drinking in all the information you can about the people around you like it was a class you were taking to survive.

“None.” The laugh that bubbles from your lips is infectious and carefree, it pulls Reid’s attention away from his book and it drags Hotch from the constant state of worry that he mentally paces in. Emily, Derek, and Rossi all exchange looks before their own laughter fills the air. It’s nice.

The feeling reminds you of that scene in Mary Poppins where Dick Van Dyke and Ed Wynn laugh themselves into the ceiling. So light and carefree that it could lift them into the sky.

“Why all the attention on the Greek?” Prentiss manages when the laughter subsides, reaching down for the book the young doctor has tucked away. Η φόνισσα, it reads with a black and white picture of arms twisted to the side of the bookcover. You make no move to grab for it, letting the other woman flip through the pages.

“My father was a Greek Philosophy professor before he died, I suppose it’s my way of trying to stay close to him.” Prentiss looks up from the pages, a look of sympathy in her eyes.

“And your mother?” The change in your entire demeanor is like cold water on the conversation, freezing the group in their spots. You reach for the book, tucking it back into the space between your thigh and the seat.

“I don’t know.” It’s the only blatant lie you’ve told since they started talking to you, averting your eyes and shifting in your seat. No one presses the topic, giving the new girl the space you need.

You take the case file with you when you go to make a cup of coffee in the small kitchenette situated in the back of the plane. Reid is already back there, pouring a steady stream of sugar into the otherwise black liquid.

“Dr. Reid.” You nod your head in greeting, avoiding his eyes by setting your folder on the counter and pretending to read it. You’ve been going over every detail of the case for so long that you’ve memorized everything there is to know. There are notes and theories scribbled into the margins and little sticky notes with questions scattered around the papers.

“It helps to step away for a little bit, that way when we land you come back to it with fresh eyes.” The utensils drawer clicks shut as Reid grabs a spoon to stir his coffee, risking the chance to finally look at you.

You’re twisting the ring on your finger and chewing the inside of your cheek. Without your shoes on, the top of your head comes to his shoulders.

When you look up at him, (y/e/c) eyes thoughtful and just as curious as the day they met, Reid can’t fight the urge that draws his gaze to your lips. The skin there is so very soft looking, surprising him when the thought of kissing them hits him like a train.

He clears his throat, focusing all of his attention on the coffee cup in front of him. The sugar is completely stirred in at this point, but he kind of wants to stay in the hopes that you’ll strike up a conversation.

“But everyone is different so you don’t have to listen to me, just do whatever helps you.” His shoulders lift in a shrug and he’s glad that nobody is there to see him interact with this girl. They would know how he felt before he could even come to terms with it himself.

As quickly as you are there, you leave. Completely flustered and unsure how to go about navigating a relationship that’s foundation was an unintentional love confession. Maybe, you thought as you leaned into your seat and closed your eyes, if I just ignore him then everything will be fine.

By the time the jet touched down in Nebraska, you had fallen into a dead sleep with your book sitting open in your lap. Emily was the one to reach out and gently shake your shoulder, the smile on her face gentle and motherly. Still blinking away sleep, you quickly scrambled to grab your bag and book before rushing for the exit.

Unfortunately for you, the shoe laces on one of your shoes hadn’t been completely tied. Add that to the speed in which you were trying to separate yourself from Reid, and you managed to trip over your feet and right into the person you were trying to avoid.

Your bag hit the ground, the book following suit as a warm hand grabbed you by your upper arm and pulled. When you collided with someone’s chest, you didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Reid smelled like old books, laundry detergent, and cinnamon.

“Your shoe is untied.” He said, his voice rumbling in his chest. You didn’t look up, afraid the heat in your cheeks would give you away. You looked down instead, noticing the way your feet were inside the breadth of his stance. One shoe’s laces laid precariously around your foot as if mocking you. Quickly, you took a step away and almost tripped again on your bag. You caught yourself on one of the seats, holding a hand out to keep Reid from grabbing you again.

“Thank you, I’m okay. Really.” You didn’t meet his eyes, every lewd thought you’d had during that stupid lecture about his lips and hands and hair came rushing back at you with every glance. You wouldn’t be surprised if he could see each fantasy written on your face like a lusty, ten-cent romance novel.

Morgan, having stopped to watch the two doctors in your clearly flustered states, suddenly felt it click in his brain. Sure, you were older and not as squirrelly as he remembered, but the way you were looking at his partner was nearly the exact same as you had seven years ago.

Feeling smug for finally figuring it out, he walked up to Spencer with his bag thrown over his shoulder, stopping beside him as they both watched you rush for the exit.

“Can you imagine someone having a crush on you for seven years? Oh, wait.” Bending down to grab his bag, Spencer shook his head in such a way that a few loose curls tangled on his eyelashes. A simple sweep of his hand across his face helped to push it away.

“It took you long enough to figure it out.” Spencer took the lead, dreading the car ride with Derek to the medical examiners. He had been hoping his older partner wouldn’t remember who you were, at least, until the case was solved.

“Oh ho ho, don’t think you can avoid this conversation with insults, pretty boy.” Morgan was hot on his tail, and that was exactly where he stayed for the next three days that the team was in Nebraska.

The killer was, in fact, a massive fan of the infamous Justin Millers. It was just a matter of pinpointing which of the crazy fanatics he was, which might have been easier if the local populace was more open to talking to law enforcement.

It was by a brilliant stroke of luck, or rather misfortune, that the team realized sending you undercover would help on many different levels. Not only did you fit the victimology, (all they needed to do was get you a ‘job’ at one of the local bars) but you would also be able to get information from the civilians that were unwilling to talk to the FBI.

Four days into your undercover mission, you found yourself wiping down the counter after closing. The band was packing up their equipment on stage and your boss had already left. Laily, the only other bartender here tonight, was flirting with the drummer while you closed things up behind the counter.

As was customary, the members of your team had taken turns following you around everyday just in case anything happened. Today just so happened to be Spencer’s turn, you’d managed to slip him into the back room before all the customers had left for the night. It was the only reason you gave Laily the okay when she asked if you would be cool closing by yourself tonight.

“I can’t believe after five years of college, I’m back to bartending.” You grumbled, shouldering the backroom door open with a box full of beer in your hands. Spencer jumped up from the crate he’d been leaning against, holding the back of the door open so you could get in a little easier.

“You were a bartender before?” He asked curiously, trying to ignore the way the low-cut black uniform shirt you were wearing fit against your figure and twisted his insides. Factor in the tight jeans that hung on your hips and the sheen of sweat on your skin from the hot summer night and he could barely focus, let alone protect you from any possible threats.

“The years between my college graduation and my joining the FBI, yeah. I could have done something different, I guess, but I wanted to have a normal young adult job before I spent the rest of my life chasing serial killers and such.” You turned to face him, actually meeting his eyes for the first time this week.

Unlike you, he was wearing his FBI Kevlar. The navy blue tie that he wore was tucked into the top of it, the baby blue sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up around his elbows. You, yourself, were having an awful time trying to keep from getting all kinds of flustered just looking at him.

The young profiler you remember was all wiry and clean cut, the man in front of you is more scraggly. His hair curls around his jawline and his forearms are far more attractive than anybody’s forearms ought to be.

His parents were just showing off, casually bringing a child into the world that looks like that.

“I don’t want things to be weird between us.” He blurted, surprising himself. You could tell by the way his brows dipped down and he took a step back immediately after saying it. Even his cheeks were a little pink.

“What happened between us was like seven years ago and all you did was tell me you had a crush on me. And then take it back. I just don’t want it to affect our work relationship because everyone already likes you a lot and I want to get the chance to like you as well.” For someone who always seems so very shy and awkward, his eyes look directly into yours, narrowing just a little. His tongue pokes out from between his lips and turns all of your bones to jelly underneath you.

He just ages like fine wine and you know that, should you be offered a permanent position at the BAU, that you would have to spend the rest of your working days keeping yourself in check while the man in front of you continued to evolve into a more gorgeous version of himself every year. The Spencer you remember had felt like peak Spencer, now this Spencer felt like peak Spencer, but who is to say that five years from now, when he decides to grow a little stubble and style his hair differently, that he wouldn’t somehow get even more attractive?

You open your mouth to come up with some bullshit answer that you didn’t really mean in order to smooth things over, when the door opens again. Spencer, standing directly infront of said door, looks not unlike a deer caught in the headlights of a truck barreling right at him going way too fast on a backroad.

Time crawls at an unusual pace, the door slowly creaking open and Laily’s voice filtering in the opening. Why did he have to wear that stupid vest? Surely the FBI has bullet proof vests you could wear under your clothing. The only idea you could come up with was, honestly, not a very good one. But it was the only one you had.

Practically launching yourself across the room, you catch Spencer’s lips against your own like the world depends on it. Using your own hands, you position Spencer’s arms around you with one hand on the back of your head and the other grabbing underneath your leg that hooks around his waist. The vest uncomfortably digs into your chest with how close your bodies are against one another, your arms now thrown around his neck, but if he keeps kissing you like this then you’ll be inclined to ignore it.

Just seconds ago he had been begging you to have a normal relationship despite your silly ‘past’ crush, now his tongue was fighting for dominance in your mouth. The irony was not lost on you.

“Oh.” Laily gasps a little when she sees you in such a compromising position. The lights from the bar illuminating every detail so that she could see the way Spencer’s fingers desperately tangled in the strands of your hair or how the muscles in his forearm strained as he hungrily pulled your body even closer than before.

The blush on your cheeks and neck are real when you pull your lips away, fire erupting in the pit of your stomach when Spencer catches your bottom lip in between his teeth for just a second. The look in his eyes is devilish when you tilt your head over your shoulder to meet her gaze.

“I’m sorry Laily, this is my boyfriend, Lance. I just- I heard about all those girls that have been going missing and I asked if he would drive me home.” The look in your coworkers eyes is all you need to know that this does not look like just a ride home. Although, it very well could have led to a ride somewhere if she had been just a handful of minutes slower.

“Nice to meet you, Lance. Gwen, I’ll see you tomorrow. Just,” the mischievous twinkle in her eyes does not go unnoticed by the two doctors in the room still tangled around each other, “maybe clock out before things get anymore heated.” She teases, the tone of her voice suggesting that you will be hearing more of this tomorrow.

“Bye, Laily!” The door clicks shut behind her, followed by the chuckles and giggles of Laily and the band as they leave for the night. You relax into Spencer’s arms, moving as if to pull out of them before they tense around you.

“We should be safe now.” You whisper, looking up into his eyes that burn with an intensity you’ve never seen in them before. That damn tongue sweeps across those perfect lips again, drawing your attention and reminding you that you now know what they feel like locked with yours.

“I think I hear somebody coming.” He whispers back, aware that you can both hear the soft bang of the front door closing and locking shut from the outside. Since the killings, the door was always locked if employees were still inside, as a safety precaution. Nobody else was coming in tonight unless they had a key.

Your lips meet his anyways, too tired to pretend that the heat between you wasn’t there. If this was the excuse he needed to kiss you, then you were all the more willing to give it to him. His tongue sweeps across the seam of your lips, causing them to open against his mouth and deepen the kiss.

Both of his wide hands splay against your hips, curling into the soft skin there and pulling you toward him with such force that you nearly trip. The hard edges of his Kevlar vest dig into your ribs and collarbone, the rough material scratching against your exposed skin as you push yourself up on your toes. When he breaks from the kiss, both of you gasping for air not from the length of it by from the passion, it is not to end your tryst.

His lips find the pulse at your neck, sucking a bruise at the soft skin there and pulling a moan from deep within your chest.

“Won’t- Won’t Morgan and Prentiss get worried,” your brain feels like the motherboard of a computer that Spencer has taken into his hands and slammed into a countertop, you can’t think when his teeth nip a love bite to the hickey he’s made on your neck, “if we, uhm, we take too long?”

If you thought the Spencer you met seven years ago was different from the Spencer you knew now, it was only because you’d never seen his bright hazel brown eyes darken with lust from beneath those impossibly long golden lashes. He was a completely different person as he unstrapped himself from the Kevlar, laying it on the floor with a solid thunk before gathering you back into his arms.

“They’ll be okay,” He said in between kisses trailed along your jawline. His movements are confident as he dips a hand down the front of your jeans and into your underwear. Your arms tighten around him, pulling your face into the crook of his neck when his fingers find the already wet entrance to your sex. His answering growl does nothing to keep you from coming undone as he presses the pad of his thumb to the bundle of nerves there. “I’m guessing it won’t be long before I have you in the palm of my hands, anyways.”

You rock your hips into him, your eyes fluttering shut with a gasp when he thrusts two long fingers inside of you. His other arm is wrapped around the center of your back, holding you to him because lord knows you can’t be trusted on your own two feet at a moment like this.

“Is this why you planned on ignoring me? Because you wouldn’t be able to handle it if I didn’t give you this?” You whimper a response, too focused on the relentless pace he has set with his fingers to come up with anything coherent. Everything about the moment is raw and animalistic, every fantasy you’d had about him during the fifty minute lecture did not even begin to touch on the feeling of his hand actually inside of you.

“Spencer, please.” You whined, dropping your arms from his shoulders and gripping onto his biceps like it will keep your soul from leaving your body. Yet, as heavenly as this felt, and as much as it exceeded your fantasies, you wanted more. Every part of you craved the feeling of his skin pressed against yours, sticky with sweat and feverish to the touch.

On a tight time constraint, Spencer doesn’t make you beg anymore than that. Instead, he delights in the way you cry out when he pulls his hand out of your pants and up to his lips. Your own lips part with a tiny popping sound when you watch him put those same fingers into his mouth with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Strip.” He commands, licking the taste of you off his lips and leisurely working at the knot of his tie. You don’t waste a second in crossing your arms over your body to pull the black material over your head and drop it at your feet. Next to come off is your shoes, clattering across the wooden floor when you kick them to the side.

By the time you make it to your pants, Spencer has only undone a quarter of the navy blue buttons on his shirt.

“I need you now, Spencer.” The buttons slip through your fingers, your hands shaking with excitement more than nerves. Although, the nerves are definitely apart of it. Never in a million years did you think you would be here; in the backroom of a bar in Nebraska, with Spencer Reid doing salacious things to you. While on your first case with the BAU, nontheless.

Doing a complete one-eighty, his hands come up to cover your own just before the last button comes undone. His touch is gentle and prompts you to look up into his coffee colored eyes. The light from the single bulb dangling from the ceiling is no good, and yet somehow he manages to look like a piece of artwork painted by the most skilled hand known to mankind.

“We don’t have to do this here. We don’t have to do this at all, if you don’t want to.” You squint your eyes up at him, using your fingernail to pop the last button through the hole on the other side of the shirt. When you let go, the pieces fall away from his chest like he’s caught in slow motion on a Calvin Klein commercial.

“I said I needed you now, not later.” In response, he scoops you into his arms and wraps your legs around his hips. The electricity that pops and crackles between you is nearly visible in the dimly lit room, the fabric of your bra skimming against his collarbone when you breath.

The little whines and whimpers that fall from your lips are driving Spencer crazy, forcing him to push through the door and lower you to a shorter countertop meant for making drinks. Tonight it would be used for other, more wicked things.

“Someone’s a bit excited.” You breathed. There was no way you could take a full breath in a moment like this. Everything was so heated and yet nothing was really happening.

“Shut the fuck up.” And then he was kissing you, his lips warm against your own. Despite the fact that you didn’t think it was possible, he pulled you closer. You knitted your fingers into his curls and gave them a slight tug. God, you loved these curls.

He began sucking a heated trail down your throat, quite possibly leaving a pathway of hickeys. You would be putting makeup over them for at least thirty minutes before you left your hotel room tomorrow, but for now they were heavenly fire against your skin.

Spencer took away his lips long enough to strip from his remaining clothes and throw them over his shoulder. When he stood in front of you looking like a Roman god, bared to no one but yourself, it made you feel like the luckiest person alive.

“I’m so in love with your body.” He groaned just before his lips found your breast, sucking on your nipple. Your head fell back and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You fumbled for a moment, patting around the countertop before your brain turned on long enough to get your hand between your legs and down to his naked erection.

He moaned into your breast as you began to move your hand. He let go of your boob and went straight back up to your mouth. His whole body was tensed up but his lips were soft as they parted against against your lips. The whole world felt like it was on fire, and his every touch was another lick of flames.

You move your hand faster, enjoying every groan and grunt and moan that finds it’s way out of his mouth and into yours. He’s already close to orgasm, you can tell by the way he breaks from the kiss, your foreheads pressed together and your breath stirring in the small space between your faces. His grip is tight when he grabs your wrist to make you stop.

“No.” Every nerve and thought and feeling was consumed by you and everything else short-circuited. Spencer couldn’t get the words out of his mouth to properly express what he wanted, it wasn’t often that the young genius was rendered speechless.

But you knew, you knew that he wanted to be inside of you. You knew that because you wanted him inside of you just as much, if not more, than he did. You shift your hips around on the counter, getting closer to the edge as you widen your legs.

“I’m on the pill.” You whisper, watching the sudden realization that he hadn’t come prepared widen his eyes for just a small fraction of a second. Just as quickly, the fear turns into that devlish grin you weren’t aware someone so beautifully shy and awkward could possess.

“Thank you, Pincus, Sanger, and McCormick.” You barely have time to question the comment, although later you’ll realize he’s probably talking about three of the minds behind the invention of the birth control pill. No longer taking his time, Spencer positions himself right at your entrance before running the tip of his cock along your wet folds.

“Fuck!” He slams into you, running his entire length into your body, hitting depths you didn’t even realize had never been touched until he was thrusting against them. It sends a wave of pleasure through every cell in your body as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and kiss him like you’re running out of oxygen.

He holds onto your hips as he repeatedly rams his hips into yours. He has buried his face into the crook of your neck, letting every curse and moan muffle into your skin. The glasses under the counter jangle with every merciless thrust inside you. The sharp bite of his nails digging into your hips makes you hiss, but it’s more from pleasure than pain.

There’s no dirty talking anymore. Every ounce of pretend you both go through while around one another is shed like seconds skins, leaving two people so hungry for each other that it had been too much to bare.

Your fingers are twisted around the short curls at the nape of his neck and your teeth are biting into the solid muscle at his shoulder. The bar always had whiffs of sex and sweat in the air that mixed with the smell of alcohol and perfume, but now it was the strongest scent in the room.

Even as your orgasm starts to build in your belly, you want more. You want to hold him so close that your brain wouldn’t be able to distinguish where you ended and he began. Letting go of his shoulder, your head lolls back and your own nails draw long lines of red down his neck.

“Spencer!” His name leaves your lips in a mix of a sob and a moan, the ecstasy of just his touch alone driving you higher and higher. The sting of his nails leave your hips, one hand reaching to the place where your connected and the other coming up to grip your jaw in his hand.

His thumb rubs against the little button of pleasure that causes your legs to start to tingle like they’ve been asleep for too long. All the while, he ruthless pace doesn’t falter. Sweat sticks a few of his curls to his temples, providing a beautiful glowing effect across the smooth planes and angles of his shoulders and collarbones.

He leans forward to catch your lips in a kiss that ends much too quickly for your taste, but you can feel the rapid exhalation of his breaths as it fans across your cheek.

“Come.” Usually a man of so many words, you had always assumed it would be the same in his sex life. Maybe it was true in most cases, but right now his desire to see you succumb to the pleasure of him inside of you outweighs the need to taunt and tease you with words.

Meeting his eyes, getting off on the smug look that twists his lips as much as you are getting off on his dick actually inside of you, you let yourself fall into the sweet release of your orgasm. Spencer doesn’t stop as you come around him, instead he quickens the pace as his own release works its way to the edge.

Your legs are still shaking when he buries himself into you with one final thrust, capturing your bottom lip between his teeth. He chases the sting of his teeth away with the softness of the kiss that follows, loosing himself in the aftershocks of your own orgasm.

Neither of you move, although he ends the kiss to gasp for air with your foreheads once again pressed against each other. His eyes are closed, the dark pink on his cheeks and neck making him look so much younger than he was. You keep your eyes open, trying to drink in every second and commit it to your memory the way it would forever be in his.

When he steps away, leaving you feeling much more empty than you’d felt in a really long time, the cocktail of your orgasms spill down the inside of your thighs. Suddenly feeling a bit self conscious, you slip off the counter with your arm wrapped around your bared breasts.

The air seems too cold, the bar too quiet, and your mind was too loud with insecurities as you tried to steady yourself on wobbly knees. Nevertheless, you attempt to make a beeline for the backroom door. If you go and put your clothes back on then maybe you could go back to pretending like he doesn’t exist and everything will be fine.

That is until one of those solidly handsome arms come out to stop you in your pursuit of denial.

He’s still naked, standing next to you like a statue carved by the hands of Michaelangelo himself. Although, you aren’t sure the renissance artist would sculpt nail marks into his skin, the signs of your heated escapade only darkening with time. You can only imagine what your own neck looks like, several spots of sensitive skin still overly stimulated from his wandering mouth.

From your vantage point, you can see his swollen lips open to say something, probably that this had been a mistake, when his phone rings from the pair of pants he’d so carelessly thrown to the floor earlier. A small frown mars his angelic features, the side of his mouth twitching with aggravation.

His lips on yours are a surprise you weren’t expecting, despite the sexual encounter you’d just had. This kiss speaks more words than he could ever possibly say, easing all the post-coital dysphoria that comes with the sudden fall from the high you’d been on. It’s gentle and warm, the hand on your arm squeezes reassuredly before he breaks away with one last peck to your forehead. It nearly tears your beating heart out of your chest.

“Come to my hotel room later.” And then he bends down to snag the phone from his pants with an aggravated growl, turning away from you as he lies through his teeth to a worried Prentiss on the other end.

In the backroom, having shimmied back into your pants and going to put your shirt back over your head, you fingers find your lips. They’re just a little swollen, exactly like his, but you wonder if he can still feel that final kiss against them the way that you could.

Oh boy, were you in trouble.

[aenaxes]

congrats on 200 my dear!!! i’m so happy i found your writing and look forward to being better friends!!! anywho, the celebration must commence! 🍾 🎉💕 ily!!

for requests, i gotta go w my main man, my first clone love, the darling hardcase (i swear he doesn’t get enough love) 💕 we’re both touch starved adhd fools who love a little too much sometimes and i just wanna smother him w my 🐱 in all the affection he deserves. if you’re up for it, maybe some soft smut for your local bottom? 🥺 i’ve been wanting to get a tattoo that matches his facial markings and wonder how he’d react to seeing it during a gentle moment between the two of you. my pronouns are she/they & i’m 5’6, and i have dark green hair + blue eyes.

you and me & me and you

[hardcase x afab!reader] there is little permanence, and all of them are fleeting, in a war that tips its scales with each new dawn. so while hardcase is away, you decide you’ll carve out your own constant between you and him, and him and you.

warnings: tattoos, unprotected vaginal sex, mushy gooey feelings pt.2

w/c: 2.8k

a/n: my love for hardcase grows day by day, and every day i wake up and cry a little bit because he isn’t real. but it's ok bc ily jj and you're very much real 💕

Seldom do you find Hardcase stunned into complete silence.

Stillness shared between you and Hardcase, rare as those moments may be, is never truly silent. Tackling each other onto the couch, stealing late-night speeder joyrides, sharing the kind of banter that doubles you over so hard your ribs sting for hours afterwards—the energy, the light, linger in the spaces left behind.

But this time, Hardcase simply stares, jaw slack and eyes wide as your fingers curl over the lifted hem of your shirt. No wisecrack quip, no teasing wink, not even so much as a low whistle as you tug your shirt over your head and drop it behind you, straddling his lap over the edge of the bed.

Eyes full of stars, he gawks.

“You—those’re my—hm, okay, wow, uh, hah—” Hardcase’s voice pitches high as his lips open and close around half-formed words.

You watch the whole spectacle as he gasps like a landed fish, grasping for wisps of coherence. And you can’t help the giggle that rises from your throat when he forgoes words entirely and trails off into a breathless half-whimper half-laugh.

“Can I—” he says at last, and his voice cracks hoarse through his sputtering attempt to regain what little composure he had. “Can I touch it?”

At your nod, Hardcase reaches forwards just enough that his fingertips barely brush over your chest. You don’t dare look down to where his calloused fingers meet the skin above your ribs, too afraid that if you take your eyes from Hardcase’s face for even a single heartbeat that you might miss a precious moment of the awestruck wonder in his expression. You find yourself as transfixed as he as you watch him trace the trio of royal blue ink arcing down your sternum and tapering off into twin circles that cradle the curve of your chest.

It’s what this whole evening has been leading up to—your grand reveal kickstarted by his signature lung-crushing hug on the hangar bay. You had braced for it harder than usual when he’d swept you into his arms and lifted you off the dusty platform steel, readying for the particularly bruising ache that comes with the week-old ink needled over the base of your ribs.

To be fair, it wasn’t possible to greet Hardcase without creating some sort of commotion. Even if it was just shy of a week on planetside escort duty, once the gunship was within a metre of the dusty landing bay durasteel, landing protocols be damned, Hardcase would hit the ground running, tossing his helmet behind him and swooping you into his arms. The sheer, unadulterated joy of reunion always found home in how he squeezed you around your middle and spun you about; it was always worth the solid smack over the back of his head (stern, from Rex and, gleefully, from Jesse) for throwing his bucket aside.

But when you had met him with more of a pained grunt than your usual tittering exclamation, Hardcase had dropped you so quickly you’d almost fallen backwards if not for his reflexes to steady you. When he’d stumbled over wide-eyed apologies (and braced past Jesse’s open-palmed whap over his head), you had only laughed and told him to wait until after you had run inventory with Rex.

His fingers finally pause their slow trace over the tattoo on your chest. He feels, sees himself, an emblem on your skin. And when he looks up, he sees you.

“Tats are sore for a bit, ‘Case,” you smile. His eyes are so wide you’re certain if you look just a little more, you’d see yourself in him. You and he, he and you, the same, the same, one. “‘s why I flinched a little.”

Hardcase’s lips open and part around soundless words a few more times, still floating in some limbo between processing disbelief and boundless excitement before he unevenly clears his throat and finally speaks.

“You—you got me inked on you?” Hardcase whispers. Each word has the corners of his lips curling higher as if he had to speak into realization what stood before him; as if his fingertips pressing tender divots into your skin were proof only of the flesh: a universal truth that only needed words to find home in his heart.

You nod, grinning.

“Wanted to have a part of you with me for while you’re away.”

And for a moment, Hardcase’s fingers are the only motion in a still room, stroking soft, repetitive motions over the blue ink of your—his—tattoo.

You silently brace for something loud and present, excited rambling, another crushing hug, affection swept wide and open before you. Instead, Hardcase lets free a single breathless huff and tugs you close.

“You know those are forever, right?” he laughs, his voice rising again.

“That’s why I got it,” you respond, and his laughter only grows brighter.

Hardcase buries his nose into your chest with a groan, and that precious crest of joy bursts over your tongue when you throw your head back and laugh. Gilded and honeyed light finds home in your chest.

“Mesh’la, I need you so bad right now,” Hardcase groans as he brings his arms snug around your waist. And his laughter joins yours this time, voices swelling together when Hardcase rests his brow against your skin and pulls you in close. You make quick work of the rest of your clothes, throwing them somewhere off to the bedside before you sit back down over the firm lines of his thighs.

“I mean, yeah, I sure hope so—was the whole point ‘Case,” you tease, and Hardcase groans, carrying something of breathless disbelief and affection and desire curled into a single whimpering sound.

And as soon as you’re squeezing over his shoulders, suddenly, you feel your gravity tilt, and you yelp as your back connects with the bedspread.

Hardcase cages you under him, one arm propped by your head as the other slips from beneath the small of your back and trails its way back to the centre of your chest, hovering just at the edges of your tattoo. He lingers, treading those shallow waters for a moment more. But where you expect the familiar drag of his blunt nails over the bold lines of blue ink, he dips low. Instead, you gasp when his fingers are replaced by his lips, warm, inviting, home as he presses a single, lingering kiss over the sigil branded into your skin.

“‘Case!” you giggle and kick out your legs at the sudden flick of his tongue over your chest. You feel him laugh into your skin, his breath wisping over where his lips just brush over the edges of the tattoo.

He ghosts one more touch, drawn long and yet chaste in how he nuzzles the tip of his nose into your chest. And the bubbling laughter of before wanes, complete, when he lifts his chin and meets you with the hushed whispers of a smile on his parted lips.

Because it’s him, finding home over the base of your ribs.

It’s him, reflected back into his wide eyes.

It’s you.

He doesn’t surge up to meet you. He doesn’t kiss you with that unabashed brilliance that crushes your lips together so hard your teeth clack. The breath catches in your throat as you watch him move in silence. There is no overexuberant joy when Hardcase shifts higher up on the bed to meet your eyes and slowly runs his thumb over your lower lip. Even then, his touch is so achingly still, deliberation held close and savored slow.

He blinks once, dark eyes full of the soft light only privy to early mornings and late nights when you curl close and bask in each other, bared and whole. You grant his request without hesitation.

Starting low, your fingers smooth over the faded lines of blue tattooed over Hardcase’s chin, the same sigils you keep as your own. Well worn and faded until the line between ink and skin disappeared entirely, the tattoos beneath your fingertips are nothing and everything like yours. You trace higher, following the crest of his lip, the high line of his cheekbone, the dip just beneath his eye where his tattoo begins anew.

He closes his eyes and lets your touch trail over his lashes until your fingers slope over his temple and still over the base of his head. And when he dips his head low, you meet him in the middle, catching his upper lip between yours as he slips one hand between you and thumbs over your tattoo. That touch anchors you as much as you think it must do the same for him, pulling you close and keeping you there while you lick over his lips and breathe him in deep.

Through the warmth heavy in your gut, you feel him slide his other hand down your side, over the contour of your hip, and lift your leg up against him. You hook your leg over the small of his back and tug awkwardly, sending him stumbling forwards, crushing his hand between your chests as he dips down and narrowly catches himself.

No amount of awkward maneuvering breaks the rosy air between you, even as you both tear away from each other to stifle the kind of laughter that lingers.

“This okay?” he murmurs over the waning sigh of a low chuckle, voice warm on your skin and drunk with your taste. He nudges his hips forward, sending a shiver shocking up your spine when you feel his cock brush up against the swell of your cunt.

“Always, Hardcase,” you whisper.

As soon as the words leave your lips, you barely have enough time to suck in another breath before you’re stuttering on your own tongue. The tension slumps out of your shoulders as Hardcase digs his fingertips into your thigh and presses forwards, stretching you out around him in the way only he knows how, setting fire to your nerves and coming home all at once.

No matter how many times you kneel before ritual—habit coming to you as natural and comforting as breath itself—you still find yourself slack-jawed and starry-eyed as Hardcase pushes into you.

That it’s the first time in his four month tour that he’s able to pull you apart and hold you together only makes it better.

It takes all of one long, shuddering exhale for him to push into you in full. The breath you share breaks that stillness, a gasping inhale as his hips connect with the soft curve of your thighs and has the blunt head of his cock nudging so deep in you that you swear you feel the pulse at the base of your ribs, right where your tattoo swells with your whimpering.

Hardcase drops forward with a groan, blindly twining his fingers with yours and leaning down to press his forehead close against yours.

You don’t have to open your eyes to see him as you squeeze his hand. The bridge of his nose flush against yours, you bask, exchanging the warmth of breath over the little space between your lips. With his brow pressed into yours, he surrounds you, warmth, warmth, warmth, a setting sun and the grass it kisses still glowing in its wake. He rolls his hips forwards and swallows your wailing moan with his tongue.

Hardcase starts slow, setting a pace that has you feeling every long drag inside you as he draws back then crushes back up against the soft spot inside you that curls your toes. It’s a far cry from the excitement of a welcome back or rendezvous reunion, swapping giddy haste to savor instead, to melt over his tongue as Hardcase slips his free arm under your hips and tugs you impossibly close.

Through the blissed-out tears beaded over your lashes, you can just make out his expression, tense with cresting pleasure, as he leans back and admires you, stretched out before him. And when your legs jerk this time, there is no achingly deep pressure of his cock heavy inside you—only his lips over the centre of your chest as he bows low and kisses your tattoo again, again, laying and sealing claim above the rapid flutter of your heart.

You squeeze his hand, and he lifts his chin to meet your hazy eyes with his own, full with intent, desire, the kind of loyalty transcendent above anything he could ever swear to his generals, to his cause. He squeezes back.

You drop your head back onto the bed when he picks up his pace again, moving his free hand out from under you to stroke his thumb over your clit and smearing the mess of your arousal and his precome over where you stretch around him. Chest heaving, you can only sob and grip tight around his neck as he leans back over you and nuzzles his nose into your collar.

It’s getting harder and harder to tell your breaths apart from his after one stuttering thrust gives way to another. The steady tenderness of before bows under the fizzling heat in your stomach, giving in to rawer need as Hardcase’s movements over your clit fumble erratic. He snaps his hips against yours and drives up hard against your pleasure, mumbling unknowable words under his breath. Desperate for more, you shift back to meet what thrusts you can.

When he leans forwards again, his brow unsteadily knocks against your nose before he can nuzzle over your forehead and press close. You might have laughed, taken the moment to catch your breath over the clumsiness of affections swelling high. But you’re too busy chasing your own pleasure, too enamored with the wet friction of his throbbing cock sliding into your cunt.

Hardcase comes first, thundering rigid through him as he buries his nose at the juncture of your neck and bites down over his own teeth, his jaw flexing against your skin. His tension spreads through you, holds you by your breath and seizes the mounting want in your stomach tight with each heavy spurt of come he grinds into you.

You nose up against his temple—a silent plea for touch even deeper than you already feel it—and he indulges you. Hazy in the aftershocks of his orgasm, Hardcase lifts his head from your collar and crushes his lips against yours. He breathes in your heaving exhales as he kisses you, all open-mouthed warmth coaxing your pleasure.

“So lucky,” Hardcase mumbles, his puffing exhales over your lips matching every thrust into your dripping cunt. “Maker, I’m so fuckin’ lucky.”

Before you can strain some half-hearted tease in response, you’re too delirious on your rousing high. All you can manage is a soundless cry that shocks straight to the white-hot heat welled low in your stomach. Hardcase rolls his calloused thumb over your clit one last time and pulls your orgasm heady and low beneath him.

Pleasure bursts over your tongue, thrumming through you hard enough you swear you black out. Nothing but paralyzing and indulgent sensation shocks through you. There is only Hardcase’s presence to anchor you to the moment in the most intimate signs of life: shared breath, fingers laced tight with yours, lips mouthing words that need neither name nor sound to find warmth at the bottom of your chest.

And when the moment subsides and the ringing in your ears fades, you open your eyes to him, glowing with exhaustion but beaming down on you all the same.

“Maker’s really lookin’ out for me,” Hardcase says at last, brushing his fingertips over the sweat beaded at your temple.

“Yeah?”

You tug him closer against your chest (as well as you can with the tremble in your arms). He follows your lead as you feel him softening inside you, and he settles his nose close over your tattoo, just beneath your beating heart.

“I mean, whatever it is, it got me you.”

“You got me you, ‘Case,” you say. Though the air between you is far from the kind of existential solemnity that demands silence, your attempt to laugh comes only as a soft whisper, hushed as your lips brush over the crown of his head.

Because whatever was up there, pulling those galactic tides and willing life into the universe, even if it had tied those fine red strings strong and true between you and the man curled around you, it didn’t matter. At the end of the day, it was you and him, brought together in a headfirst collision in the cold steel halls of a Jedi cruiser and bound tight over shy planetside advances and cheesy dates.

“Then I got you, and you got me?” Hardcase chuckles, lifting his head and meeting your fond gaze.

“Just us,” you laugh.

Hardcase makes a soft noise of affirmation, his arms pulling snug around your middle. He nuzzles close skin over skin, and when he kisses over your tattoo, the sting of ink and needles fades into a distant memory unknown—all worth the trembling touches he presses over the place you’ve carved out for him alone.

Maybe the Maker helped along the way, but it’s always been you and him, him and you.

[julesclues]

She Wasn’t You

Warnings: nothing that I can think of

Word count: 2.03k

Pairings: jj maybank x reader

Summary: JJ goes on a date with a girl but when it ends early, you ask him why and hidden feelings arise.

You and JJ have known each other for years. In a way, he was your first friend. You had met him in the playground when you were only 5 years old. You had slid down the slide, but winded up busting your ass on the way down. John B and JJ came running up to you, as tears fell down your face. Ever since then, the three of you were inseparable. A couple of years later, you met Kiara and Pope. But it wasn’t until a year ago where you had developed a crush for the blonde surfer. And it has only gotten worse over time.

“You have a what?!” Kiara yells, making you slap her mouth shut. “Yes Kie, okay? I have a crush on JJ! Please just don’t tell anyone, okay?” She paces around her room, running her hands through her hair. But because of her curls, she didn’t really get very far. “Y/n, this is crazy. You know the no-pouge-on-pouge macking rule! Why would you do this?” You sigh and fall back on the bed. “I didn’t want to Kie! It just happened. Besides, it’s not like he likes me back. It’s just a stupid crush, it’ll go away eventually.” But it didn’t. Days turned into weeks, which turned into a year.

1 year, 7 months, and 12 days. But who’s counting, right?

You had no idea if the boy liked you though. JJ Maybank was a boy of flirting. If she had boobs, she had JJ’s attention. Kiara says it’s different with you, but you can’t really tell. You love JJ to death but whenever he flirts with you, you can’t help but think it’s just a joke. That’s his personality. It’s who he is. Sometimes you think he can’t help it. He had always been there for you, no matter what. You had only gotten into a small fight once. It wasn’t even that major.

6 months ago

“John B, relax! If I wanna fuck around, let me fuck around! I’m not hurting anyone!” jj screams at John b, while the rest of you just watch. “Why do you keep doing this, huh jj? Why don’t you try to get your life together and maybe settle down!?” John B yells back, causing your heart rate to pick up. You saw both sides of the argument, but you didn’t want to pick sides. “Fuck off John B! Let me do what I want to do!” jj heads toward the door, but John B winds up saying something that tips jj off like you’ve never seen him. “If you keep going down the road you are now, you’re going to end up just like your dad!” Everyone gasps in disbelief as jj runs toward John b and slams him against the wall. “jj stop it!” You yell, but he turns back to you. “Stay out of this Y/n!” This causes John b to get an upperhand and he pushes jj to the ground. You run up to them, throwing John b off of him. “What is the matter with you two?!” You scream, as Pope comes up behind John b and grabs him. Neither one of them respond. “Pope, get him out of here. jj,” you say, as you grab his hand to help him up. “Come with me,” you say with anger. “But-“ he starts, but you shoot him a glare that shuts him up almost immediately.

Shutting the door behind you, you hear the bed creak as he sits down. “What’s the matter with you?” You yell, as he runs his hand down his face. “What’s the matter with me? Did you hear what John B said to me? Why is it any of his business what I do?” JJ huffs, crossing his arms in front of him. His eye follow you as you pace back and forth across your room. You stop in your tracks and walk in front of the blonde. “He’s just looking out for you! I get it’s your life and the thing he said about your dad was shitty, but he’s your best friend. He needs to understand your point of view, but try to understand his too.” You finish talking, and sit down next to him. He stays silent, but his eyes are screaming. “I hate when you’re right,” he smiles, making you chuckle. “What can I say? It’s the worst thing about me.”

“And the best,” he adds on. You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the butterflies that almost made you throw up. JJ gets up from your bed and puts his hand on the knob. Before opening it though, he turns to you. “Thank you Y/n.” And with that, he exits your room to go talk to John B. You couldn’t help but feel kind of upset. You didn’t want JJ to settle down with anyone. You wanted it to be you. But if he was happy, then so were you. And that was enough in your book.

So now, 6 months later, JJ has rarely been sleeping around. He actually listened to John B, which confused all of the Pouges. It might have even confused JJ a bit. You were all at a kegger. Smiling, laughing, and definitely drinking. You were having a blast. Until you weren’t. “Guys!” JJ runs up, panting. “Woah blondie, relax. What’s going on?” You ask, and he turns to you smiling. “I’m going on a date tomorrow at 1 o’clock! Met this hot chick! Her name is Leslie and she...” JJ’s voice fades out from your ears and you just stare at the fire in front of you. He met a girl. A hot one. He even knows her name. And he’s going on a date with her. There was no chance for you. You get up from where you’re sitting, feeling Kie’s eyes on you the entire time. JJ abruptly stops talking and turns to you. “Where are you going y/n?” He asks, and you turn to him. “Gotta go. See you guys tomorrow. You know, family stuff,” you say, trying not to make the pouges suspicious. But Kiara knew the real reason. And JJ definitely wasn’t buying into your story. He stopped talking about the girl and sat down in your previous spot next to Kie. “Is she okay?” He asks with sincere eyes, looking at the group. “I’m sure she’s fine,” Pope says while taking a sip of his beer. “No she wasn’t, didn’t you see her face? She looked really sad,” Sarah says, countering Pope. “Maybe I should go after her,” JJ whispers loud enough for everyone to hear. As he gets up, Kie grabs his hand to stop him. “Don’t,” was all she said. JJ didn’t question it, but he sat back down. He knew that Kie knew what was wrong with you, but didn’t want to pry. You would tell him eventually. You were his best friend afterall.

Tomorrow eventually came. After a night of crying your heart out for a boy that you considered your best friend, you checked your phone for the time. It was 1:03. JJ was probably on his date by now. You hated how infatuated you were with the Maybank boy, but you couldn’t help it. He made you feel things you’ve never felt for anyone else. You couldn’t explain it, but you loved him more than you loved yourself. And it made you crazy.

It was now 2:19 and the boy was still on your mind. Your parents were home, so at least you could wallow in self misery by yourself. You jump on the couch and turn on the tv, trying to find anything to distract you from JJ. From the girl he was with. He was probably kissing her. Maybe they’ll get married, you think. But you laugh at your mind and it’s restless thoughts. This was JJ you were talking about. Dating was barely on his mind, let alone marriage! You were getting ahead of yourself. You finally find a movie you want to watch, and hit play. Not even 10 minutes into the movie, someone was knocking on your door. With a loud groan, you pause the movie and walk over to the door. Maybe your parents were back and forgot the keys. Opening the door, you made eye contact with the one person you were trying to avoid all day.

“JJ?” You ask in disbelief. Looking at the clock next to you, you realize that the date only lasted an hour. Which was practically nothing. “You’re back so soon?” You say more like a question. “Can I come in?” He asks in a low voice. You move out of the way so he could walk in. He goes straight for the couch and plops down on it. Confused, you follow him and sit right next to him. “JJ what’s going on? How was the date?” He sighs and looks up at you. “Can I be honest?” He asks, making you nod. “It sucked.” A part of you wanted to jump up and down and throw a party. But you kept it cool, trying to conceal the excitement you felt. “What? Why? You seemed so excited last night?” JJ starts tracing circles along your couch with his finger. Something he did when he was nervous. You noticed.

“I know but I realized she was just.. hot. Her personality wasn’t really what I was looking for, I guess? I don’t know Y/n. She wasn’t what I wanted.”

“What was wrong with her?”

“Nothing was wrong with her at all. It’s just.. she wasn’t..” he stutters, trying to find the words to explain why she wasn’t enough for JJ. But the truth is, she probably was enough. She was pretty, she made JJ laugh, and she was actually very loyal! But in JJ’s mind, he just wasn’t feeling it. It wasn’t right. “I– ugh. I don’t know.” He runs his hands through his hair, which was something he did that always gave you butterflies. “Well maybe you need to just meet someone else!” You say with enthusiasm, trying to cheer JJ up. But he shakes his head with a “tsk” and stands up quickly. You look up at him with confusion. “Why JJ?”

“Because I know they wouldn’t be good enough.”

“What? JJ listen to yourself. You’re saying some girl wouldn’t be enough, yet you haven’t even met them yet!”

“She just wouldn’t be, okay Y/n? Quit it. I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

“No JJ, I won’t quit it!” You yell, standing up to face him. “She was good for you! You were so excited! What happened? Just tell me, you know! Deep down you know. You wouldn’t just waste a date on some–“

“She wasn’t you.”

You stop talking and just look up at JJ in disbelief. You couldn’t believe it. JJ Maybank was actually into you too. He ditched his date because she wasn’t you. “I’m sorry if you don’t want to hear that y/n, but it’s you. I love you and she wasn’t you. The thing wrong with her was that it wasn’t you sitting across from me in the diner. It wasn’t you telling me jokes. It wasn’t you telling me that I was handsome. I want it to be you.” You smile and chuckle softly. “I thought you didn’t like sharing your feelings,” you whisper, talking a step towards the boy. “Only for you princess.” He puts his left hand on your right cheek and looks deep into your eyes. “Can I kiss you y/n?” Without answering, you slam your lips into his, making him stumble a bit. You smile to yourself as he wastes no time kissing you back. You couldn’t believe in a million years that he would like you back. No, not like. Love. He was in love with you.

And this kiss was one of the many things he would do to prove that to you.

[pogueit]

First Aid Kit

Paring: Pope Heyward x Reader

Summary: You have an accident while attempting to do a new trick and Pope is the man for the job.

Warnings: blood ofc and general first aid stuff nothing too graphic tho!!

WC: 1,994

A/N: There's not enough Pope content!! SO I made some!! Pls enjoy some Pope and Y/N action!

THE GIF IS NOT MINE IT BELONGS TO @rue-bennett !!!!

Saturdays are not meant to be boring, but this scorching afternoon there was nothing to do. John B. went on his weekly date with Sarah, JJ scored a date with a kook he's been eyeing, and Kie was forced to go to a gala on the mainland, so it was just you and Pope alone in the chateau. He had been studying all day for an upcoming chemistry exam he has first thing Monday morning. You tried all day to get his head out of the books, but he was not having any of it. It wasn't until the late afternoon that you got him to go outside with you. Even though his nose was still deep in the piles of notes at least he was outside. You were skating on a horrifically uneven stretch of concrete that was oddly slathered in front of the chateau. Every time he could hear the wheels pop upwards he would snap his eyes to you, cheering you on when you stuck the landing. You were glad that he was far enough away to not be able to see how red your cheeks were. You've had a massive crush on the boy ever since Kie introduced you to the group. Your mom had just moved your ass down to the banks to get a fresh start far away from your poor excuse for a father. She managed to quickly score a job at The Wreck (where you were also forced to work part-time) as head chef. Your mom got on well with the Carrera's who only deemed it appropriate to force their daughter to hang out with you, being new in town and all. Kie wasn’t bothered at all and was glad to have another girl around. After hanging out with her for a single day, you wouldn’t hesitate to take a bullet for her. Kiara didn't introduce you to the knuckleheads right away, since she had taken a liking to you and didn't want to scare you away. The day that she did you remembered Pope had been the last one to say "hey" yet his was the warmest. After that day your stomach would erupt with butterflies whenever you'd even look at him and you would nearly die when your hands would brush against each other in passing. There was just something about him. Maybe it was how he didn't believe in stupid questions, except for JJ's of course, or how he would learn a new subject just to be able to help one of you ace an exam. It could be how the sun sparkled against his wet skin after a long day of swimming or surfing. How relaxed he looks sitting in the driver's seat of the HMS Pogue taking in all that the sun had to offer. You were glad the rest of the crew hadn't caught on yet, especially JB since he's already taken the role as your big brother, even though you're sure that you’re definitely older than him. He would never let you hear the end of it if he knew. The constant pestering, nudging, and side-eyeing would have driven you insane. Your mind slowly drifted back to the boy studying a few feet away from you. The thoughts of those hot summer nights in the cool water with him clouded your brain, so much so you nearly wiped out.

"You good!?" Pope's concerned voice made your head snap in his direction. You knew that the embarrassment on your face was very telling but you just shot him two thumbs up and got back on your board. You shake off any remaining thoughts from your head before attempting your new trick. You were sick and tired of random strangers, but mostly JJ and JB, yelling at you to do a kickflip whenever you were skating. After watching countless videos on kickflips you were basically an expert on them at this point and all you had to do now was actually stick the landing. You slid your right foot to the middle of the board so that your heel was just off the edge while your toes rested in the middle. You shifted your left foot to the tail of the deck and with all the strength you could muster you push down on the tail while your right foot flicked down on the edge of the board. It would have been a spectacular landing if it weren't for the random-ass pebble that your wheel landed on.

"Oh fuck, are you alright!?" Pope was by your side before you even realized you were on the ground. Falling came with the game and you were not fazed at all, since you've had grislier wipeouts than this, but that's before you saw the fountain of blood that poured out of your knee.

"Yeah, I'm fine dude-- I've had-- I need to--The bathroom--" you hobbled quickly into the bathroom at the chateau trying your darndest to not get any blood in the house. By the time you were able to sit down on the toilet, you were seeing stars. Your vision was slowly fading to black and you felt like you were going to vomit. You closed your eyes tightly as you pressed a clump of toilet paper to your knee, which pulled a hiss right from your lungs at the sensation. Promptly, you bit down on your bottom lip to keep yourself from letting out a scream. A light knock came from the door and it couldn't be anyone else but Pope.

"Are you alright in there y/n?" From all the pain you were in you could only hum out a yes as a response, but you knew that would not be a good enough answer for the boy.

"Yeah, just don't--" before you could even finish your sentence he barged in "--open the door, why don't ya". His eyes grew wide at the bloody mess you made in the bathroom, but then quickly softened at the sight of you. Your skin was flushed with developing perspiration clinging to your skin and your lips had gone pale as your lungs suddenly only knew how to hyperventilate.

"Uh, I don’t think it would be in your best interest to say that it looks like a slasher flick was filmed in here" his words made you squeeze your eyes tighter as bloody images flashed before you and it only got harder for you to breathe. Pope stepped inside the rather small bathroom and closed the door behind him. He picked up all the toilet paper you had used for your leg and tossed them into the trash bin before he crouched down next to you.

"Does it still hurt?" His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, as if you would shatter if he spoke any louder. All you could muster was a tiny nod as the pain took up most of your energy. His hands then gently pried your hands off of your injured knee and inspected it. Since the cut had almost stopped bleeding completely, Pope, was able to see that the wound was deep but not enough for it to garner any stitches and it was free of any debris. Lucky for you because JB had fallen there a couple of weeks ago and Pope had to whip out the tweezers to get all the gravel out of the bloody gash.

"Hey, it's not that bad-- I mean it is bad but it could be worse-- I'm gonna clean it now" the boy got to his feet and helped you sit on the edge of the bathtub with your feet sitting inside the tub. He then washed his hands furiously to avoid infection and gathered all the supplies he needed which consisted of antibacterial soap, antibiotic cream, gauze pads, gauze rolls, and unconditional love and support. Pope helped you undo both your shoes and removed them along with your embarrassing Winnie the Pooh socks. He sat with his legs outside the tub to have easy access to the supplies. After he checked to make sure the water wasn't too hot or too cold Pope moved your leg so your knee was underneath the faucet. The wound's contact with the water wasn't as bad as you thought, but it could’ve been you were distracted by his soothing touches as he held you close to him. Pope was careful not to get any of the soap in the cut just on the surrounding area and when he was finished he made sure to clean the rest of your blood-caked leg up as well. Once you were all cleaned up, he padded your leg dry before he attempted to put ointment on the tender flesh.

"Is it going to hurt?" You squeaked as he retrieved the ointment from the countertop.

"It might sting, but it shouldn't, '' he reassured you, as he brought the ointment-covered q-tip to your knee, but you couldn't help that your knee-jerked away from his touch.

"Ow, fuck!"

"Y/n, I haven't even touched you yet"

"I know, I know, sorry"

"I promise it won't hurt, y/n, and if it does you can punch me or something" even if it did hurt that bad you couldn’t imagine hurting Pope in any way. He once again leaned back in with the q-tip and sure enough, it wasn't painful at all. The ointment soothed the burning sensation of the area which finally allowed you to relax. He then carefully put a gauze pad on the injury, before wrapping your knee securely with gauze. You slid off the edge of the grimy porcelain tub and onto the ground while Pope stood next to the sink and neatly tucked everything back into the first aid kit.

"Uh, thanks--" your words got lost in your throat when your eyes met his warm eyes "--um, dude?" You felt stupid when it came out as a dumbfounded question and the heat quickly rose to your cheeks. If it was any time for you to die you wish it would have happened right then.

"Yeah, any time, y/n" he shot an endearing smile in your direction and you've never wanted to kiss a man so much before in your life.

You both let the awkwardness settle over you. The two of you riddled with hesitancy, but quietly yearned to confess your feelings to one another. He needed to get out of there. Pope gave you a curt nod and a tight smile, but as he headed towards the door there was vacillation in his movements. Before you lost sight of him from the doorway, he turned back around determined.

"Y/N, I gotta--" you were soon on your feet as the last bit of courage you had for your lifetime allowed you to meet him halfway. He didn't bother finishing his sentence as he decided his actions would speak for him. Pope cupped your face in his soft hands and crashed your lips together. The kiss was sweet, sweeter than anything you've ever experienced before. His plump lips gilded confidently over your timid ones. As the fire inside of you diminished your shyness you shifted yourself forward onto your tippy toes to deepen the kiss. Your movements caused you to pin Pope against the bathroom wall and you could feel him smile against your lips. His velvet tongue dragged against your bottom lip for permission to explore you further and you were more than eager to let him.

"Fucking finally!" The familiar voice of the rowdy klepto caught you guys by surprise causing both of you to jump away from each other.

"I guess I'm forty bucks richer, I knew you had it in ya, Pope!" JJ beamed as he walked towards the two of you and you playfully rolled your eyes at the blonde-haired boy.

"Fuck off!" Pope giggled and slammed the door in JJ's face before he turned to face you.

"Now, where were we?"

[another-fantasy-world]

Theirs, In Every Way Possible

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆      ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Pairing: Jemily x Fem! Reader, JJ x Reader x Emily

Summary: JJ and Emily thought that their life couldn’t get any better, until they met you. However, what happens when you aren’t completely truthful to them and the team who was already a family to you? 

Warnings: Canon Violence, Reader came from a serial killer family, Reader has so many traumas, Homophobia, Reader has trust issues and is very indecisive. Y/N might frustrate you. Major Character Injuries.

Word Count: 3816 words

GIF isn’t mine

This case is completely made up from the top of my head, so if there are any similarities in the episodes in CM, they were probably just carved in my brain. Also, this might be a little ooc because I can’t just seem to tap into their personalities just yet

I’m sorry, I tried making this as angsty as I possibly could, I’m still working on my angst.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆      ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

You were fairly new to the BAU, only working there for about 6 months, and yet you fit in really easily. It definitely helped that you were the sunshine- Penelope Garcia’s bestfriend and that Erin Strauss couldn’t bring herself to dislike you. But what matters the most to them is that fact that you were a genius. No, not like Dr. Reid genius. You understood the serial killers in a personal level, and you would often coax the weapon out of their hand and get them to submit and surrender. Of course, when they confronted you about it, you easily lied and they somehow accepted that. So much for being profilers.

You never really did know when you first started seeing the couple in a new light. Yes you liked them both. It never really mattered since you just knew that it would just fade away. It was already embedded in your brain that everyone eventually leaves and that being too close to anyone would only get them killed. You learned that the hard way. But that didn’t stop you from admiring them from the shadows. It didn’t stop you from smiling whenever they talk, it didn’t stop you from memorizing their features like they were about to vanish into thin air, it didn’t stop you from admiring how JJ controlled the media, or how Emily used that voice when she’s speaking to the unsub and it didn’t stop you from admiring how well they fit each other, how their hands fit like puzzle pieces, and how your heart clenches in awe when you see them cuddled up with each other. You didn’t know what you would do with yourself, you desperately needed to get away from them, but you also wanted and needed to be around them. God, you knew you sounded like a hormonal teenager. 

“This is Daryln Garcia, Ahron Balydyn, Abbey Banagher and Jehoushua Castiel. Their names are on top of the list of the recent chain of murders all over each state.” Garcia winced at the pictures that she had to present to the whole team, she never did seem to get used to it

“Some of these are from waaaaay long before, why only now?” Emily asks from her seat , which was coincidentally next to yours

 “The M.O’s are all over the place, which is why they didn’t connect the murders until now. The only thing connecting them are black sticky notes that are posted on the wall and on their body.” Rossi reads out.

“Where’s the latest one?” You ask, sipping your coffee

“...Los Angeles, California.” 

“Wheels up in Five.” Hotch concludes, as everyone gets up to gather themselves. 

After talking and discussing the case a bit more, You all decide to calm down for a few hours, and each and everyone of you set off to do your own things.

“Uh-huh, you’re staring at them again huh.” Garcia teased you through the screen.

Spencer was memorizing and rereading the case files,

Hotch was talking with Rossi, probably discussing the case,

Morgan has his headphones clogging his ears,

JJ and Emily were cuddling with each other as JJ munched on her cheetos.

You were currently seated away from the team, just out of earshot because you knew that Garcia would begin spouting non-sense. 

“Shut up...” You blushed bright red. “...I told you this once, while I was drunk and now you bring it up in every conversation that we have. It’s just a silly little crush, sunshine. It’ll pass.” You told her, playfully glaring at the screen, to which she laughed

“Sure, Gummy Bear. Keep telling yourself that.” She grinned.

When you were about to land, you hung up on your bestfriend before steeling yourself, You didn’t need to acknowledge the gut feeling in the pit of your stomach, and you most certainly ignored the growing headache that you have. 

 JJ and Emily certainly noticed you right from the start. The woman who had no experience in the field whatsoever is suddenly the finest one they ever seen. (or maybe that’s just because they were so attracted to you that they happen to pay too much attention) That wasn’t the only thing they noticed though: They also noticed the tiny change in tone when you talk to either or both of them at the same time, or the way that your head would be the first to turn when they walk in the bullpen, or the way that your eyes would quickly scan them from head to toe before you bury your face into the paperwork that Hotch gave you, just a slight hint of embarrassment in your eyes peeking out from the cover or maybe it was the way that you would breathe a little heavier and talk a little faster when you discussed the case with them. You weren’t painfully obvious, but they were profilers for God’s sake, they notice everything, especially if it’s about you. There was just something so painfully attractive about you that interests them so much. The way your hair flowed as it dances with the wind, The way you licked your lips since they were dry (They tried to get you to use a lip gloss or a lip balm but you fought them, real hard.), The way your body tackled unsubs who got into your nerves (They always had to change clothes after that...), The way your eyes shined when you successfully return and reunite families, The way your mind worked: How you analyze quick, How you look at things in all angles, How you tried to put yourself in the very scene, How you work so well with Spencer and How you always seem to know what to say, every damn time. Maybe it was the way you broke social construct just by wearing a suit everytime you go to work, or it’s probably the smirks you give them when you’re right about something and they were in the wrong. (It makes them want to pounce on you, but they restrain themselves, taking their frustrations out on each other in the privacy of their own home.) But what they hate the most, it how dense you are. At this point, JJ could send you a love letter and you would think that it’s a recent case evidence. 

"...This is Dr. Reid, SSA Prentiss, Y/LN, Morgan, Jareau, and Rossi."

“Right this way, we have arrested a prime suspect this morning.” 

“How?” You ask, lifting two duffle bags and setting them down to your designated table

“She was found lurking around the crime scene and a bloody shirt matching one of the latest victims in his backpack.” 

“Can we have her bag?” Emily asks, approaching the officer

“Yeah sure. Right this way Agent.” He leads her to somewhere while you trail Hotch to the interrogation room, only to freeze in your tracks.

“What the hell” you whispered under your breath, feeling the same suffocating aura when you felt like your past is catching up to you. 

“Y/N? Are you okay?” You hear Derek ask you.

“I can’t do this. I need to call Garcia. Excuse me.” You replied with a look in your eyes. Derek recognized that same look with Emily when she ran away, pursuing Doyle to protect the team, and he’ll be damned if he let’s history repeat itself.

“Nuh-uh sweetcheeks. I know that look. Tell me.” Derek grips your forearm gently.

“Derek. I promise I won’t run away. And if I’m not back within an hour, track my phone and my ring.” you assured him, pulling your phone out and hurrying outside.

“Garcia. Please tell me that my identity is still concealed.” You begged Penelope while you were stress smoking at the back of the precinct. 

“It is! I promise! There’s no way they would find you! through technology at least.” she ranted. You see, Penelope Garcia doesn’t do well with secrets, but you really needed her, and she understood that. Which is why your secret is the best kept secret she has, she hid your secret for a year now.

“Then tell me why my aunt, who might I add is an absolute psychopath, is in our major suspect list right now?” you panicked, knowing that your “family” has somehow tracked you

“It might be a coincidence, Gummy Bear. But I will look into it! I promise.” 

“Garcia. One more favor. Back up all my files, all of it. From my work laptop, my FBI files, my personal devices, all of it. Then delete them all. I’m going to use a disposable starting now. Pull up the GPS service for my ring, keep an eye on me at all times. I’ll be damned if I see more of my family.” You spat out, stomping out the light of your cigarette, before popping a mint.

“Consider it done. Don’t you think it’s time to tell them?” she carefully asks, knowing how sensitive you are.

“Thank you Garcia, And I will. Once the time is right.” You grumbled, knowing that it’ll be sooner than later.

“Y/N. Tell them before it’s too late. Please, for your sake and for ours too.” 

“I will short stuff. I will.” 

For days you successfully evaded interrogating your aunt, subtly helping them as much as you can without raising suspicion. You knew that this secrecy is going to be revealed soon

“Y/N. We picked up coffee for you.” You suddenly hear JJ behind you, Emily’s hand gently placing the coffee in front of you, her eyes filled with concern

“You didn’t go to your hotel room did you?” Emily accused

“...No” You dropped your head onto the files in front of you

“You need your sleep Y/N. You’re no use when your brain can’t even function.” JJ retorted, taking a seat beside you, with Emily by her side.

“...Fine. A nap on that sofa. That’s it.” You bargained, determination shines in your eyes

“Okay. Go.”

And then, the moment your head hits the arm rest, you blacked out. Only waking up to Derek’s frantic shaking of your body

“Y/N! Get up!” It was rare for Derek to be this panicked and scared, and that gave you anxiety

“What? What is it?!” You stood up, feeling yourself get dizzy my how fast you got up.

“JJ and Emily are gone.”

What?

“Wait- What do you mean- How long was I asleep?” You blinked

“Precisely 4 hours, 36 minutes and 56 seconds.” Reid blurts out from infront the whiteboard.

“What happened for fuck’s sake?” You sat back down, rubbling your head

“Hotch was about to send you in on a lead, but they both volunteered instead.” Rossi explained

“And no one sent backup?” You were angry, barely keeping it in, you were slowly regretting keeping your secret now

“No one knew until now, when JJ and Emily didn’t come back after an hour, Derek went after them, only to find this.” Rossi lifts up the black sticky note.

“Family for Family, Blood for Blood”

“Is it possible that Rayna Torres, is their relative?”

“ Call and Tell Penelope I said Yes.” You point to Derek, knowing that Garcia will know what to do. You��ll let your bestfriend explain, she’ll explain it better since your mind is fogged

You couldn’t take it anymore. Your face hardened, clenching your jaw. You rarely showed anger, or annoyance for that matter, so they didn’t know what to do when you stormed off in pursuit of Hotch.

You found Hotch in the interrogation room, silently observing your Aunt

“Let me talk to her.” You say, earning a nod from him

You stormed in, slamming the door behind you.

“Listen here, you little psychopath. Where are they.” His eyes widened slightly, Hotch didn’t expect you to be so hostile

“There you are. I was beginning to think that we got the wrong team.” She grinned, intertwining her fingers, her wrists still bound to the table by a handcuff.

“I am not in the mood for your games.” You deadpanned, gripping the table to conceal your anger

“Hmmn. You always did have your father’s temper.”

“WHERE. ARE. THEY.” You slammed your palms on the metal table, making a slight dent on it. Ignoring the pain, you glared at her hard

“You know where they are child. I know that you know where they are.” The devilish grin once again appeared on her face.

“If I step foot inside that warehouse, and they are not there, I can’t guarantee your head will still be attached to your shoulders when they prepare you for your casket. Auntie.” At that statement, you walked away with a surprised Hotch on your trail.

He treated you like his very own ever since you knocked on his door, crying your eyes out, ranting about your family. Of course he noticed the small slip-ups you accidentally let out especially when you’re drunk. But it was never enough to completely put the picture together. He knows that you treat him as a father figure. Which is why he can’t let you go in there alone.

“No. Absolutely not. You might die Y/N!” You raised your brow at him, the bulletproof vest never felt as heavy as it is now

“You’ve known me for 6 months, you’ve known them for years. Why are you picking me over them? You know that I’m what they want. You or any other person steps in though that door, they’re all going to be dead before they see JJ and Emily. Not to mention they might kill JJ and Emily too. Please Hotch. This is my battle. If I die, I die. I don’t want to live knowing I could’ve done something.” Those were your last words before you slowly walked to the warehouse door after getting wired.

“This really isn’t the best first impressions you could make on your future daughters-in-law. Father.” You spoke as you saw him pointing a revolver at her, at your Emily.

You almost collapse at their state. JJ’s beautiful blonde hair caked with dirt and blood, she was staring at you, shaking her head, tears welling up in her eyes. Her lip is swollen and you could see multiple bruises forming. 

However, Emily’s state was much worse. Her eyebrow was bleeding, her knuckles are bruised, she has small cuts everywhere and you could see that she was struggling to stand up despite being tied by her hands to the ceiling

“This one has a sharp tongue daughter. i don’t appreciate it.” He snarled, now pointing his gun at you

“Last one who said that exact words to had his dick cut in half. Where’s my jerkwad of a brother anyways? How’s his dick? Still has my bite marks? Scars maybe?” You smirked, hearing your “mother” load her gun

“Disrespectful Bitch. Don’t talk to your brother like that, he’s better than you ever will be” She snarled, firing at your feet, slashing through your pants, making you bleed slightly, making JJ scream through her gag.

“Your aim’s getting rusty.” You pulled out both your guns, pointing them at you biological “parents” 

“And you’re wearing a bulletproof vest. Take it off and kick your guns to us. You know what’ll happen if you don’t” you gritted your teeth, taking off the vest despite the protests of Hotch and the rest of the team

“Happy?”  “Very.”

“Now let them go.” You frowned

“No. You see, since you do love them right?” Your father smirked, making you frown

“Yes. I do. I’m in the same team as them for fuck’s sake!” 

“No. No. That’s not just it. You love them in a different way as well. Say it.”

“...” Your mother rolled her eyes at your silence and fired two bullets to Emily and JJ, scraping Emily’s cheek and JJ’s shoulder.

You flinched, you knew not to show emotion, but it’s painful to see the women you love get hurt. 

“Okay! Fine! You want me to say that I love them? I will.” You gritted out

“Go on then, you know how I love my drama shows.” You glared at them, taking a deep breath in, watching them walk out of the room, a bright spotlight aligns itself on the three of you, It really is a sick TV show that your parents would love to watch.

“What they say is true. I don’t know if you noticed it yet. But I do love you, both of you. I really hoped that I could tell you over dinner, or a cup of coffee, but I guess life has other plans. Loving the both of you seems so weird, and unconventional, but who wants to be normal and boring am I right?” You chuckled, trying to lighten the mood, which they didn’t appreciate.

You moved your hand to their gags slowly, listening for complains from your parents, hearing none, your grabbed their gags and pull them down.

“Y/N-” They both started

“Shhh. Let me speak, you know I don’t have much time.” You smiled, implying that you wouldn’t get out of this alive.

“I notice everything. I do. I’m not as dense as you think I am. I just... I didn’t like the thought of you both getting attached to me. I love you both so much that I knew that if they catch up to me, I could die, or you could get hurt. And now this happened.” JJ shook her head as if to say it isn’t your fault.

“I love you both so much, I love the way you look at each other, often wished I could look at you both like that. I love the way you both force me to sleep then give me coffee in the morning. I love the way your brow furrows when you see a detail in the reports that displeases you, and then you’ll playfully glare at JJ and I when you notice that we’re laughing at you. There’s a lot more that I want to say to you, but I don’t have enough time.” you say, moving closer to them, tears staining their bruised cheek.

“I’ll see you in our usual spot in the coffee shop across the street?” You whisper to JJ, kissing her cheek

“I’ll be copying your move now.” You chuckle lightly, kissing her cheek

A slow clap rang throughout the room.

“Now that is a perfect drama and revenge.” You whipped your head around, only seeing your father. Pulling out your knife from your thigh, you run towards him recklessly, the screams of JJ and Emily’s pleads piercing your ears.

And then three gunshots rang throughout the warehouse, Derek kicked the door down, chasing after your laughing family. Your ears were ringing, you didn’t even notice that you collapsed from the impact. You couldn’t believe it actually worked. You could feel the sticky, red colored cornstarch mixture on your abdomen. However the growing pain on your shoulders prevented you from celebrating.

“Fuck.” You whimpered out, the impact of the bullets on your abdomen radiating throughout your body, yet you can also feel the bullet that’s still in your shoulder.

“Y/N. Stay with us come on” Emily whispered, despite her being in a worse condition that you, She still has your hand in a death grip.

“I’ll be fine Em.” You reassure her through jagged breaths, JJ’s crying face invading your view made you smile too. 

The moment that Emily and JJ were free from their binds, they immediately limped towards you as fast as they can, both of them on each of your side, silently wishing that they had more time

“They only managed to shoot me on my shoulder okay? I’ll be fine.” You could see the confusion in their faces, which faded when the paramedics unbuttoned your stained white shirts, only to find another bulletproof vest and an empty plastic bag, previously filled with what they can assume was fake blood. 

Emily’s eyes widen, what you did was dangerous, and extremely risky. You gambled on a unpredictable mess and she wondered how you got Hotch to approve of what you did, only to find out later that Hotch didn’t know either.

You could only smile at them, feeling the drugs the paramedics injected take effect, slowly drowsing off. You were happy they were somewhat safe. You were also happy that you managed to stab your father in his arm. Even if your brother did shoot your shoulder from behind, you were still happy with how things turned out.

Almost regretting what you did when you woke up to a staring Emily, JJ quietly handing you water, before they both scolded you like there’s no tomorrow. 

However, after what seemed like ages of reprimanding from the older women, they both pecked your lips before asking you out on a date.

I guess it all worked out in the end.

[little-diable]

Please respect that this is my own work and I worked really hard on those imagines, don’t copy or edit stuff. However reblog, comment and like as much as you want. Enjoy my loves. xx

Mind Games (Series, with Patrick Jane, on hiatus)

The reader had once worked with the CBI, trying to help Patrick Jane catch Red John. Now, as she is part of the BAU and dating Aaron Hotchner, her past is coming back to haunt her. Will her team be able to support her through it? Will her relationship survive her clash with old times, memories she had been running from and a run in with her ex-lover? 

A bit of heat, a bit of anger (smut)

Aaron has never treated her as kindly as he treats the rest of the team, but after a fight between them and a guy trying to chat the reader up, Aaron can't hold himself back any longer.

Profiling 101 (complete Series, Prof!Hotchner)

The reader enrolls in professor Hotchner's class "Profiling 101", a man she has always looked up to, a man who treats her like an asshole from day one. Will her need for academic validation manage to push the two closer together? Will her bright mind push her into the world of Aaron Hotchner and the BAU team? Will he manage to keep his distance before the world he tries to protect her from can get its grasp on her?

For you, always (smut)

The reader is best friends with Derek, a friendship Aaron can’t stop himself from being jealous of, unable to let go of the crush he has on the youngest team member.

I wish I didn't, but I do (one bed smut)

The reader and Aaron have to share a bed as they hunt yet another unsub, but Aaron growing jealous of an officer flirting with the reader just makes things even worse; pwp

What was I made for? (Soulmate smut)

The reader has been forced to accept that her soulmate has moved on, leaving the mark of his name to fade out on her wrist. But what if her soulmate is her new supervisor? Will they realise that they were destined to be?

Burnt Brownies (undercover!Hotch smut)

A new neighbour moves into the house next to (y/n)'s – Mark, a tall, handsome man she falls for far too quickly. All good things come to an end eventually, and sometimes people aren't what you may think they are.

How did she? (smut)

(Y/n) runs into Aaron at a coffee shop, and even though she wonders why his name sounds so familiar, she ignores the warning signs. Dad's best friend

The professor (smut)

The reader works as Hotch's TA, helping him with his course work while falling more and more for the professor.

The 30th (angst and smut)

The reader got into a car crash, chased by their unsub, while she's fighting for her life, Aaron is forced to realize that he'd kill anybody who hurt the reader in a heartbeat. Or: Colleagues to lovers

Punishment (smut)

Aaron punishes the reader, overstimulating her till she can only cry his name.

Truth or Dare (smut)

What if it hadn't been JJ and Spencer, but Emily and Aaron? How will the reader react to hearing Emily confessing her love for Aaron, the reader's husband?

Home is where your heart is set in stone (smut)

It's been weeks since their unsub has almost killed the reader, and now she's forced to join her boss on an undercover operation, as his wife. And yet it doesn't take long for her feelings to push her closer to the man she had always been crushing on.

Love Actually (smut)

The reader has been in love with Aaron for years on end. And yet early on she has realised that she should move on, hoping that he'd find somebody worthy of his love. Now she is stuck in a loveless engagement, while her thoughts aren't letting go of Aaron and the life they could have lived together. But, perhaps something may change this Christmas, perhaps she'll get another chance to love the man she has loved her whole life.

Hold me close, at least for a little while (smut)

The reader is sent in to flirt with their unsub, even though Aaron tried to keep her from doing it. When the situation spirals out of control, Aaron is right there to take care of her. 

Trust (angst/smut)

the reader gets involved in a case that pulls her deeper into her dark past, now she’s a suspect, involved in the murder of her ex-boyfriend, will the team still trust her? Will Aaron fight for his one true love? 

[outerbankswriting]

Could it be? Chapter 8 (JJ x Reader)

JJ x Reader

CH.1 - CH.2 - CH.3 - CH.4 - CH.5 - CH.6 - CH.7

Description: She has a crush on JJ, but he has always seen her as another one of the “dudes”, or  at least that’s what she thinks so she just doesn’t even try anymore, until things start to shift between the two of them. (A/N: I’M NOT GOOD AT DESCRIPTIONS BUT THESE IS JUST WHAT I WOULD LOVE TO HAPPEN IN OUTER BANKS WITH JJ)

Warnings: none just some possible tears

CHAPTER 8 

After some planning for the day with Sarah, the two of you decided to head out of John B’s place and go to her house so you could meet with Rafe and have what you were hoping would be a nice, civilised conversation about everything that was going on.

“See you guys tomorrow!” Sarah said her goodbyes to everyone while you were looking for the sweater you’d brought since you thought you were staying until the night and the air tends to get a bit too chilly.

“Are you looking for your sweater?” JJ asked as he observed your desperate moves.

“Did you hide it?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

He chuckled at your words as he shook his head.

“I didn’t. You left it outside.”

“Right.” You smiled shyly.

JJ followed you as you went to John B’s backyard and found your sweater laying on the grass. You picked it up and shook the dirt off it.

“So what’s all about that party Sarah was telling you about?” He crossed his arms and pretended to look unbothered, but you could tell by the look in his eyes he was eager for your answer.

“I don’t really know,” you shrugged, “some business thing between our parents. I haven’t really talked to mine so I’m not so sure.”

“And is everyone going?” He cleared his throat and you smirked a little.

“Who’s everyone?”

“Like, you know,” he scratched his head, avoiding any eye contact with you, “the whole Cameron family and your whole family.”

“You mean if Rafe is going?”

You watched as his jaw tightened, giving you a slight nod.

“Well considering the fact that he is the son of Ward Cameron,” you explained, “he sort of has to be there.”

“And how’s that going to work?”

He walked closer to you, looking at you with a deep crease between his eyebrows.

“I have no idea JJ, but I’ll make it work. Don’t worry about it.” You smiled softly at him before you heard Sarah calling out your name.

“See you at night then.” He said and you nodded.

You could tell he was worried.

Classic JJ, always looking out for his friends and wanting them to be alright. And you knew Rafe’s case was the one that pushed his buttons the most, not only because of the fact that he’s the most annoying Kook but especially because of the fact that he’s your ex.

As soon as you arrived to Sarah’s place, you felt your hands start to shake. You were nervous to say the least. You didn’t want to talk to Rafe at all but you knew it had to be done.

“He’s in his room,” Sarah said, “I can come with you if you’d like.”

“No, don’t worry. It’s best if we’re alone.”

She nodded and walked towards the kitchen as you went up the stairs. Your mind was going crazy with all the things you wanted to say to him but not knowing exactly how to let them out.

You made your way to his room, knowing perfectly well which one was his after having spent many nights here before.

You stared at the dark brown door and took a deep breath before knocking on the door.

“What is it?” It didn’t take long for him to groan.

You knocked again, your heart hammering as you heard his feet on the ground getting closer to the door.

“How many time have I told you to no-“

He stopped dead in his tracks once he opened the door and saw you standing there. He was wearing nothing but his underwear, making you instantly turn your gaze to his eyes.

“What are you doing here?” He managed to say.

“I’m here to talk.” You said coldly.

“So now you wanna talk?” He chuckled and you felt your blood start to boil.

“I had no other choice.”

You walked past him and went inside his room. The smell of weed and his cologne immediately making you recall past memories.

“You can sit if y-“

“I’m not here to fix things Rafe!” You wasted no time on raising his voice at him. Much for the civilised conversation you wanted to have with him.

“I can see that.” He spat out.

“You really think I want to talk to you after you called me a cheap slut?!”

The look on his face softened as soon as you let out the words. Almost as he cared.

“I didn’t mean it Y/N,” he tried to explain but you interrupted him again.

“I don’t care if you didn’t mean it Rafe! You said what you said and I’m tired of you picking up fights with my friends and pretending to want me back when you only care about pleasing your father!” You didn’t realise tears were falling from your eyes and how quickly you were breathing until Rafe slowly walked towards you.

“Hey Y/N,” he said softly but you just shook your head at him and backed away.

“No Rafe, it’s been enough!” You went on, “And to find out you told your parents and my dad that we’re still a thing?! I’m not a fucking toy!”

“I know you’re not! Damn it Y/N!” He hit the wall, making you flinch, “Stop acting like I don’t give a shit about you!”

“But you don’t! You never did! You just wanted me because that’s how you could get your father closer to mine so they could seal their stupid business deal and you wouldn’t be the disappointment you’ve always been to him!”

The look on his face made you want to run away, you knew you’d hit him right where it hurts him the most.

He ran his hands through his hair before walking towards you and then backing away, not knowing what to say or do. You watched as he sat down on his bed and looked at the floor, his jaw clenching as he desperately played with his hands.

“You know I’m telling the truth.” You lowered your voice this time, but kept your distance from him.

He sighed and shook his head before smiling to himself and staring at you.

“You really think I pretended to love you during our whole relationship?” He let out a laugh, but his eyes were full of tears which made you walk closer to him.

“I’m just saying that’s how I felt.”

“Well you’re wrong,” he glanced at you, “I admit at the beginning I did approach you because of your family and because dating you did raise my image to my family and friends. And my dad was proud of me. Very proud.”

He smiled again, but it quickly faded away as he let a few tears fall down his cheeks.

“But it didn’t even take me a month to fall in love with you and look past your last name and realise that you’re worth more than any bullshit business deal between our parents.”

Rafe couldn’t bring himself to look at you and you couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. You were confused, and the anger that was consuming you a few minutes ago was completely gone.

You slowly sat down next to him in bed, letting him know he’s got your full attention.

“But then you started hanging out with the Pogues and I knew I was losing you. You’ve always been different from all the Kook girls and I knew your little adventures with the Pogues were exactly what you’d always wanted,” he paused for a few seconds and then went on, “then my dad noticed we were growing distant and he threatened me to not let anything get in between our relationship until he could close the business deal with your father. And your Pogue friends were the problem.”

You noticed Rafe wiping away some of the tears falling down his eyes and something about how vulnerable he looked, made you softly grab his hand and squeeze it.

“But I never stopped loving you.” He whispered and stared into your eyes.

You bit your lip and looked down at the floor, trying to process everything he’d just said. You were too focused on your own thoughts that you didn’t notice Rafe leaning in towards you until he turned your face to plant a kiss on your lips.

You immediately broke the kiss and backed away from him.

“No Rafe.” You shook your head and stood up from the bed.

“Don’t you believe me?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“I do, I do believe you.”

“Then what is it?”

“This doesn’t mean we’re getting back together.”

“Y/N,”

“No Rafe, I can’t.”

He nodded and bit the inside of his cheek.

“Is it because of that Pogue?” He spat out.

“You mean JJ?” You rolled your eyes at him, “And no Rafe, this has nothing to do with him.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I don’t know Rafe! This is too much to take in right now alright?” You desperately ran your hands through your hair as you made your way towards the door.

“So what? You’re just leaving like that?” He walked to the door.

“Yeah.” You tried to open the door but he shut it with one hand.

“Wait,” he said and you turned to face him, “before you leave just promise me one thing.”

You just raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to speak.

“I know Sarah told you about us having to present ourselves as a couple during the party. Just for that night pretend we’re still together please.”

“Rafe,” you sighed, “I can’t do that.”

“Y/N,” he desperately looked at you, “just one night and then you can do whatever you please.”

You took a deep breath and hesitated before replying.

“If I do that, do you promise to leave my friends alone?”

You watched Rafe purse his lips together before nodding.

“And me,” you looked straight into his eyes, “you’ll also leave me alone.”

He didn’t take his eyes away from yours, and it took him a few seconds until he gave in and nodded. Rafe opened the door for you and you accepted his deal before walking out of his room.

You didn’t even bother to look for Sarah and immediately left her house. As you were walking back to your place you broke down crying. You weren’t sure how to take in everything Rafe had told you, you didn’t even know if you fully believed him, but you know you were dreading the day of the party to come.

You walked inside your house and made your way to your room, wanting to take a long shower to process everything, but as you opened the door to your room you saw JJ sitting down on your bed reading one of your books.

“You took a long time with Sarah,” he closed the book and put it away, “I also don’t understand how you can read such long books.”

“I haven’t read that one.” You closed the door to your room, avoiding eye contact with JJ so he wouldn’t notice your puffy eyes from crying all the way home.

“Did Sarah pick out an ugly dress for you or?” He got up from the bed and walked towards you.

“What?” You raised an eyebrow at him in confusion.

“Is that why your eyes are all red and puffy?” He gently tilted your chin up to make you look at him and you gave in.

He knew you too well.

“I’m going to take a shower.” You made your way to your bathroom until his words made you stop.

“Really Y/N? Are you doing this again?”

You turned to face him and sat down on the bed, remembering the first night he’d stayed over and how he had also sat down on the corner of your bed looking like a hurt puppy waiting to be aided by someone.

“I talked to Rafe.”

As soon as the words left your mouth you felt your bed sink down with JJ’s weight as he sat down next to you.

“What did he do Y/N?”

“Nothing JJ, I’m alright,” you assured him, “he just confessed me some stuff and you know how emotional I tend to get.”

“So he finally confessed what a piece of shit he is?”

You shot him a look and rolled your eyes at him, hiding the little smile that wanted to get out of you.

“He basically said he’s still in love with me.” You let it out almost as a whisper.

“And you believed him?” He chuckled, making you glance at him.

“Well he did sound pretty convincing you know.“

“Y/N, Rafe’s a liar! He’s a manipulative piece of shit!” He raised his voice and you sighed, tired of arguing with people for the day, “You can’t go back to him!”

“Can you not make a scene out of this?” You said quietly but he ignored it.

“Do I have to remind you how he called you a slut?!”

“No you don’t JJ!” You stood up from the bed, “I can remember that very well, thank you!”

“Then what are you doing going back to him?!”

“Who said I went back to him?!”

“Why are you believing he still loves you?!”

“I haven’t even been able to process it JJ, give me a break!”

“There is nothing to process Y/N! Rafe is bad news! You can’t date him again!”

“And so what if I date him?! Who knows?! Maybe that way he will stop getting into fights with all of you and you’ll be free of him!”

“I don’t give a shit about getting into fights with him!” He walked closer to you.

“Then why do you care so much about me dating him?!”

“Why do I care?! Really Y/N?!” He let out a laugh and ran a hand through his hair.

“Yes JJ, why?!” You copied his moves and stepped closer to him.

He stared right into your eyes, the two of you inches apart making you remember the night you almost kissed. The only difference was that tonight the two of you were filled with anger and desperation.

The two of you stood in silence, JJ not letting a word out and just staring at your eyes.

You were tired of this.

You were tired of liking him and having his actions play tricks with your feelings. You were tired of your recent events with Rafe. You were tired of fighting. You were simply tired of it all.

“I’m going to take a shower.” You said emotionless and went inside your bathroom.

You broke down crying while the warm water travelled down your body. You were struggling to breathe but the tears just wouldn’t stop coming out until they were finally gone and you were left with a headache and cold water instead.

After your longer than usual shower you were sure JJ wouldn’t be in your room anymore thanks to the fight the two of you had. He was probably going to stay at John B’s place or sleep downstairs in your living room.

But you were surprised when you saw his body laying on the side of your bed, his breathing was slow and deep. He was probably asleep, just like a baby after they’re done throwing a tantrum.

You slowly got inside the bed, careful to not wake JJ up and ready to finally close your eyes and get some rest. You knew your eyes needed it.

You were about to fall into a deep sleep until you heard JJ’s voice break the silence.

“I care because I love you, Y/N.”

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

CH.9

A/N: okay this is my favorite chapter so far!!! I also want to THANK ALL OF YOU FOR 1,000 NOTES ON COULD IT BE?! this is so crazy to me!! I’m so happy seriously, I can’t thank you enough for reading this. it means the entire world to me!! HOPE YOU LIKED THIS CHAPTER AS MUCH AS I DID!

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

taglist: @babygirlizz​ - @atabigail - @poguesrforlife​ - @behappyitsemmalie​ - @jane-dough - @yeeedolan - @dontjinx-it - @sofiaconlaz - @fangirlwithme​ - @outermaybank - @hueycat2004 - @nope-thanks - @weasleyswizarding-wheezes - @haleswale - @hungoverhellhound - @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch - @asapkyndall - @hailiemarieeee - @emmasjulixn - @spideyyeet - @rosenbug - @cassidyiscool  - @harrysbbby - @thatshiscigar  - @kiarascarreras - @uhuh-listenboy - @normatural - @goldenariana - @heyyimlaynna - @lukvv - @irontoadllamaclam - @allisjustok - @saturno007 - @pluckypete - @pennepasta82 - @howdyherron - @perfektionsmakel - @dylanpain - @tulzu - @voidsxnsets - @shadesofbarryallen - @rimbougrine - @dolanfivsosxox - @allisjustok - @stell-rosie - @spoopysidemen​ - @optimisticherolightpanda - @dolansbeanies - @arsejungle - @missenchanted27 - @ctrlyouthmendes  - @my-soul-is-the-moon - @hazelgirl355 - @sehunniehaechannie - @sweetwaterprincess - @ues-swiftie - @deadsunflower01 - @ghostlywombatnickelpeanut - @moadvx - @peachy-ness - @supersouthy - @howdyherron - @retro-mayfield - @cyxbv - @ydoesthesunsetbaby - @bellageorge03 - @thelittletank - @emmalvei-blog - @eaturveggiesbabe - @katiepego - @books-crushed-my-soul - @iamaunicorn4704 - @mrmaybaby - @sloanology - @wildest-dream- - @maplelattes22 - @disaster-rose - @5am-cigarette - @ravenclawmarvel - @peterbrokenparker - @pickeringshawnn - @thatshiscigar - @lovelydina - @sspidermanss - @lollypop-lam - @drunkwallows - @a-wari - @ajxlawley - @briiiimiranda - @oceantostars - @jordangdelacruz - @brightnss - @classywaves - @ironbuckley - @cilorawr - @the-beauty-queenn - @mileven-reddie- @blueegansey - @livingforbarnes - @angelnoirr - @fashionlive15 - @harrysbbby - @eb15​ - @lcil123 - @drunkwallows - @uhuh-listenboy - @caringparker - @tangledinsparkles - @wildflower-lrh - @lollypop-lam - @mxrvelistic - @jeffsbarbershop - @bananasundae13 - @llunarist - @nick-awwstin - @aftertaxte - @timotaychalabae - @we-are-all-lovely - @k-k0129 - @wwylmlive - @sunshinemadds - @hawkeyetrained - @cremextart - @sunflowerwhoever - 

[lilliagradiewrites]

surprise? (jj maybank)

Summary: You’re John B’s sister, and you’ve been dating JJ in secret for months. What happens when John B sees a hickey on your neck, and realizes his best friend has been making on his little sister?

WC: 2.7k

WARNINGS: Hickey/ mentions of sexy time, cursing, mentions of violence

A/N: Another JJ one shot! This one has been sitting half-finished in my collection for a while now, so tonight I decided to complete it! I’m such a sucker for a brother’s best friend moment, so I knew I had to write a JJ x Routledge! reader fic. i hope you all like it!

PS: Thank you so much for all the love on evermore, my last fic!! It was so well received, and has gotten more recognition than anything else I've ever uploaded. I’m so thankful!!

I love you all so so much, and I hope you enjoy!!

LET’S DO IT!

~~~~~~

Neither you nor JJ could pinpoint the exact moment it began.

Being John B’s younger sister, you had known the blonde boy for basically your entire life. In seventh grade, you had developed a slight crush on JJ. He was the older, popular boy that cracked funny jokes; how could you not like him? You had always thought he was cute, but you started seeing him in a different light around the age of twelve.

The crush quickly faded away, and you found yourself with many boyfriends and flings over the years. Looking back on it now, you don’t think your feelings JJ ever truly went away… you had just forced yourself to forget them.

For JJ, the feelings developed around his sophomore year, when you were a freshman. For the vast majority of his life, he’d seen you every day when he inevitably made his way to the chateau. He’d cared about you, of course, but no more than a ‘I care about her because she’s my best friends little sister’ kind of way.

He has a vivid memory of you, the morning after he’d had a sleepover with your brother. He was sitting on the couch with John B, having a conversation about some stupid guy thing he couldn’t even recall now. He remembers seeing you walk out of your room, having just woken up, wearing an oversized t-shirt. Your hair was in a messy bun, and you didn’t have on any makeup.

He couldn’t explain why, but you looked so damn beautiful to him that day. You never noticed him staring at you, but John B did. JJ remembers his friend’s brows furrowing.

“What the hell are you staring at?” After following JJ’s gaze, his eyes widened. “Are you looking at my sister, man? Cut that shit out.”

“No, of course I wasn’t. I was looking out the window. Chill, bro.” JJ had quickly denied the claims of his friend, who didn’t entirely believe him but chose not to say anything else on the topic. After that day, JJ tried his best to avoid staring at you, but it was always hard for him.

Within a month after that incident, you began hanging out with the Pogues more and more. They quickly became your best friends, and you loved them all more than anything. They all helped you and John B through the disappearance of your father, and you were eternally grateful.

Naturally, you found yourself growing the closest with Kie. Being the only two girls, it made the most sense for the two of you to be very close. Kiara was like a sister and a best friend all in one, and you loved her very much.

Pope was always great. He kept you and the rest of the pogues in check, making sure you remained safe and made smart decisions. John B, of course, was your older brother, and you were very close with him. You had your frustrations with the brunette, however. One thing that always pissed you off about John B was how insanely protective he was. He would threaten any guy whose eyes lingered too long on you at a party, and it took years of convincing to allow him to let you go on a date. You loved him, of course, and knew he was always trying to keep you safe, but you couldn’t help but be frustrated with him sometimes.

And then there was JJ. You didn’t even know what to think when it comes to the blonde boy. You had always noticed something special about him, and felt slightly different towards JJ then all the other boys. For some reason, the both of you kept your distance from each other. Maybe, you both knew in the back of your mind that if you got too close, there’d be no pulling you apart.

One night at a party, you had gotten absolutely wasted. Kiara had gone home with some girl, Pope’s dad didn’t let him come, and John B was nowhere in sight, meaning it was up to JJ to take care of you. He brought you home, cleaned you up, and put you into bed. In your intoxicated state, you let your walls fall down. You told Jj how you felt about him, too drunk to worry about the consequences.

Fortunately for you, the feelings were reciprocated. JJ said that he felt the same way, and he’d been keeping his distance from you because of strict commands from John B. “Anytime I’d get close to you, or even be ‘too friendly’ towards you, I’d get the whole ‘my sister is off limits’ lecture, I was tired of hearing it, and I didn’t think you felt the same anyways.”

That night was the beginning of a long journey. He kissed you, and you were happier than you’d ever been. He ask you to be his girlfriend, and you happily said yes. There was only one issue with the whole situation.

Your stupid, overdramatic, overprotective brother.

“Maybe we shouldn’t tell him for a while?” Jj suggested after much contemplation on both of your parts. “See where this goes. If it gets super serious, we’ll obviously tell him, but it’s probably best to keep it on the down low for now.”

Though hesitant, you eventually agreed, deciding it was the best decision for now. You hated lying to your brother, but it’s not like you had any other choice.

Six months passed after that night. You and JJ’s relationship grew stronger and more serious with each passing day, but neither of you had the guts to tell your brother. So, you kept dating in secret, the relationship only between the two of you.

Oh, right. And Kie.

JJ had gotten into a habit of sneaking into your bedroom window late at night. He rarely got any time with just the two of you, and even when you hung out with your friends, he wasn’t able to be as affectionate as he wished he could be. One morning, Kiara arrived at the chateau earlier than usual, bursting into your room to find you asleep, wrapped in your boyfriend's arms.

The brunette woke the two of you up with a loud exclamation of “What the fuck?”

JJ kissed you goodbye and scrambled out the window before John B heard anything, and you sat Kie down and explained the whole situation, making her promise not to tell anyone.

Especially not John B.

Kiara, being the amazing person she is, swore secrecy and squealed about how happy she was for the two of you.

Kie’s knowledge of the relationship is part of the reason she insists on waking you up one morning at the chateau. She and Pope had stayed the night, as well as JJ. JJ was nowhere to be found, but the group just assumed that he had run home to grab spare clothes or something.

Well, the boys assumed that.

Kie knew better.

Her suspicions were completely confirmed when she entered your room to find you and JJ cuddled together, just like all those months ago when she had first found out.

“Wake up, guys! JB and Pope are awake. JJ, hop out the window and pretend you went to get clothes from your house. You don’t have a lot of time.”

Immediately, you and your boyfriend were launching up out of the bed. He followed his usual routine of kissing you goodbye and then jumping out of the window. You thanked Kie before beginning to search for your swimsuit.

“You’re welcome, babes. And by the way, I’d make sure to cover up that fatass hickey on your neck before walking out of this room.”

Kie gives you a wink before walking out of the room and closing the door, leaving you there with red cheeks and wide eyes.

You moved immediately to your mirror, and examined the left side of your neck. Sure enough, there it was: a large bruise that JJ had taken his sweet time on the night before. You huffed, recalling when he was giving it to you.

“JJ, don’t.” You breathed, lightly pushing him off you. “You can’t leave marks, everyone will see.”

“Let them see.” He lifted his lips off your neck to look you in the eyes. “I’m tired of hiding that you’re mine. I want everyone to know that you’re taken, by me. Let them see, babe, I don’t care.”

For a moment, he had you agreeing with him. Who cares if everyone finds out? They’d just find out eventually anyways. What’s the difference if they find out sooner rather than later?

But, you eventually cam to your senses. “I’m tired of hiding too, J. We’ll tell them soon, but I don’t want my brother to find out I’m with his best friend by seeing the hickey his best friend gave me.”

JJ paused his movements for the second time, breathing and thinking for a moment. “Yeah, I guess you're right.” He bites your earlobe, then leans in to whisper in your ear.

“I’ll make it small. I still want my mark on you.”

Clearly, JJ had lied. The bruise on your neck was absolutely massive, and you’d have your work cut out for you when it came to covering it up. Sighing, you reached for your makeup bag, pulling out some color corrector and concealer.

A good thirty minutes later, the bruise was covered enough to go unnoticed, and you were outside on the dock, dressed in a pink swimsuit and a pair of shorts. John B and Pope were on the boat, preparing it for you day on the water. Kie was inside shoving snacks, water bottles, and beer into a small cooler. JJ, who had just finished rolling a few blunts, came walking out of the house. You heard him approaching behind you, and whipped around to face him.

“I have a bone to pick with you, Maybank.” You glared, crossing your arms over your chest. Your boyfriend looked nervous, his smiling face immediately shifting to a concerned one.

“What’s wrong, babe?” He said quietly, making sure that the other pogues were out of earshot before using the nickname. JJ knew you well, and any term of endearment made you melt for him. He always used them, but was particularly heavy on the nicknames when you were upset with him.

“Last night, I told you not to leave marks. But you insisted, and you told me you’d leave a small one.”

“Yes, that happened. So why are you upset with me?”

“Because the hickey I woke up to this morning was anything but small. It took me twenty minutes and half my concealer to cover that shit up! Are you fucking crazy? Are you trying to get us caught?”

JJ moved towards you, probably to take you in his arms, but caught himself just before he did it, glancing up at the boys on the boat.

“I’m sorry, love. I couldn’t help myself. You look so fucking hot with my marks on your neck. It’s too hard to resist. Believe me, I tried.”

“Then try fucking harder, Maybank! Do I need to remind you that your ass is on the line here, way more than mine? Birdie’s not gonna beat my ass if he finds a hickey on my neck, he’s gonna beat yours! And then I get to have a screaming match with my brother after patching you up in the bathroom. I don’t know about you, but that is not the way I want anybody to find out about our relationship.”

JJ opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again with a sigh. He knew you were right.

“You’re right, baby. I’m sorry. I need to gain better self control. It won’t happen again, I’ll listen to you next time. I’m sorry angel, really. Forgive me?”

He was giving you those puppy dog eyes that he knew you couldn’t resist. After a moment of staring into them, you finally gave in. “yes, bebs, I forgive you. But don’t do that shit again, or so help me God…”

Your boyfriend broke out in an ear to ear grin. You could tell that he wanted nothing more than to kiss you and take you in his arms, but he obviously couldn’t. “Thank you! I love you, angel.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, allowing a smile to creep onto your face. “You’re lucky I love you, too. Now come on, I think they have the boat ready to go.”

------

A few hours later, everyone is lounging on the boat. You’d been out on the marsh for a good four hours, and the whole group was beginning to grow tired. The late afternoon sun bared down relentlessly on you, warming your skin and causing your body to overheat, despite the fact that you’d been swimming in the cool water for the past hour.

“God, it’s so damn hot out here. Can the sun chill the hell out for a second?” You complained, taking a swig of your beer.

The rest of the group murmured their agreement from various places on the boat. Absentmindedly, you gather your wet hair in your hand, holding it up on the back of your head to try and relieve the heat on your neck.

Big, big mistake.

Unknowingly, you’d exposed the massive hickey on the side of your neck for the entire boat to see.

The makeup you’d piled on that morning had apparently faded while you swam. Your hair covering it was the only thing keeping you from exposing yourself, and now it was revealed.

“What the HELL is that, Y/N?” Your brother was speaking, pointing at your now exposed hickey.

You looked immediately at JJ, whose eyes had gone wide and cheeks were pink.

“Um, I don’t know what you’re talking about, Birdie.” You replied quickly, not knowing what else to do.

“Is that a fucking hickey?” John B was walking towards you now, and your eyes were wide. You backed away from him, but you could only go so far on the small boat. He reached you eventually, pushing the hair from the side of your neck to reveal the bruise once again.

For a moment, your brother was silent. Strangely, this made you even more nervous then if he was screaming and shouting. You knew your brother well enough to know he was composing himself.

So that he wouldn’t strangle somebody.

“Who did it?” he said quietly. His voice was shaking with anger.

“Did what?” Your voice was shaking as well, but with fear for your boyfriend’s life instead.

“Who gave you the fucking hickey, Y/N! Stop playing dumb! Who did that to your neck.”

Panicking, you glanced over at JJ.

Yet another big, big mistake.

This glance was enough for John B to realize what the answer to his question was. You watched the pieces slowly connect in his mind, and then he was speaking again.

“It was YOU?” He rounded on the blonde boy near the edge of the boat. “You’re messing with my baby sister? Are you fucking kidding me, JJ?”

“Calm down, bird! It’s not what you think.” You were immediately at your brother’s side, trying to calm him down before your boyfriend’s body ended up at the bottom of marsh.

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Y/N! I think this is exactly what it looks like! It looks like this dickhead has a screwing around with my sister when I specifically told him not to!”

“We’re not just screwing around, John B!” JJ said in defense.

“Really? What the fuck else are you doing that would end with my baby sister having a hickey on her neck?”

“We’re dating!” You burst out. “We’ve been dating. For six months now.”

John B turned towards you immediately after your statement. He looked completely dumbfounded, as if he couldn’t possibly process the information he had just been given.

“Six months?” he echoed, and you nodded.

John B turned back to JJ.

“Surprise?” The blonde boy, hoping to lighten the mood.

Obviously, he was unsuccessful.

“You’ve been messing with my sister for SIX MONTHS, and I’m JUST NOW finding out? What the hell is wrong with you? I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

Before anyone could do anything to stop him, John B was lunging at JJ.

As if he’d been preparing to do so, JJ jumped off the side of the boat, landing cleanly in the water.

John B stood over the side of the boat screaming at him.

You mad eye contact with Kie,who was giggling slightly at the whole situation. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

This was going to be a long night.

~~~~~ A/N: Anddddd there’s the end! I really hope you guys liked this!

All notes and reblogs are highly appreciated!

ALSO: SEND REQUESTS!!

I love you guys so much,and Happy Holidays!!!!!

[squiggledrop]

Reforget - Spencer x Reader

Masterlist

Summary: Both Reader and Spencer have feelings for each other. Reader kisses Spencer, but he runs away and ignores her. - Song fic to Reforget by Lauv

Word Count: 3k

Pairings: Spencer Reid x Reader

Category: Angst, Fluff (NSFW, 18+)

Warnings: Swearing, Sexual implications, Crying, Angst, Fluff,

Didn't wanna be a ghost

But you pushed me over and over

Never thought I'd have a vice

Other than you, over and over

It had been three weeks since you and Spencer first kissed, and two weeks and six days since you both decided you were better as friends. Well, since Spencer had decided for the both of you. When it happened, the two of you were walking out of the BAU together, ready to head home. You had had a crush on Spencer since your first day a couple of months ago, and the two of you quickly became good friends. Unbeknownst to you, Spencer also had a crush on you, but was much too insecure to ever act on it. As you made your way to your car, you grabbed Spencer’s arm as he was about to turn and say goodnight. You didn’t know where this spur of confidence came from, but you were running with it. You gave him a peck on the lips, which caused his face to turn into a tomato. 

“I’m so sorry”, you blurted out in shock, “I don’t know what I was-”. You were cut off by Spencer cupping your cheeks and placing his mouth back on yours. For the first time in Spencer’s life, his brain couldn’t keep up, and he was on you before he could even process what was happening. The kiss was fueled by passion and the hidden feelings between you both were almost palpable. When you pulled apart you stared into each other’s eyes, full of lust and desire, however, as Spencer finally realized what had just happened, his eyes grew wider and a film of terror masked his face. 

“Uh, night”, he stated blankly before darting off. You tried to call out to him, but it was no use as you couldn’t seem to form any words. You stood there in shock. Every emotion coursed through your body. You were terrified because you just kissed Spencer Reid. You were elated because Spencer Reid kissed you back! But, you were crushed because Spencer Reid just kissed you and ran off like it was the biggest mistake of his life.

Left you in the sky with the fire below

Thought I had it right, but I'm still

Lost in the light

As you drove home you replayed the events of the night over, and over again in your head, trying to make sense of what just happened. He kissed you back. That had to mean something. 

Spencer rode the subway in silence, just staring out the window, reminiscing how your lips felt on his. He was beating himself up for running away like that, but he couldn’t handle the thought of you rejecting him. When you kissed him his mind went blank and when you pulled away he put his lips right back where they belong. The only problem was, as he was kissing you, your words finally registered in his head: I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. He knew kissing you back was a mistake and he couldn’t bear look you in the eye after you had apologized for kissing him. 

When you got home, you looked at the screen of your phone through tear-filled eyes. You made out Spencer’s blurry contact in your texts.

To Spencer: Hey, can we talk about earlier?

Spencer heard his phone buzz and blinked back the tears welling in his eyes. It was a text from you asking to talk. Great, he thought to himself, you probably wanted to apologize again because kissing him was just that horrible. Spencer opted to save himself anymore hurt and ignored your text. He threw his phone on the couch and went to bed.

To Spencer: Can you at least let me know you got home okay?

To Spencer: Spence, please?

The tears streaming down your face became too much, so you decided to just leave him be. Fine, if he wants to be a jerk who just kisses you and runs away then so be it. You left the ball in his court, so it was his move. You had no energy to do anything else.

The only problem was, Spencer was never good at sports, or confrontation for that matter. This led to the two of you not speaking the following morning, or the following two weeks and six days. The team knew something had happened because normally you two were inseparable, but now they were lucky if you could even stay in the same room for more than 30 seconds. You avoided each other, not wanting to be faced with the devastating truth. You came to the conclusion that Spencer’s lack of response was his response. He clearly wanted nothing to do with you. Spencer on the other hand felt so guilty about ignoring you, but he knew he would break down if you told him kissing him was a mistake, and for a man who relied on facts and statistics, he wasn’t willing to face the truth.

And I don't know what night it is

You're somewhere else, I'm drinking not to guess

It had been three weeks of avoiding each other and the team knew that they had to do something.

“Hey! Why don’t we all go and get drinks!”, Penelope suggested after a taxing case. It had been a long time since the whole team did something fun together, and they thought this way they could get you two drunk enough to finally tell them what was going on.

“I-I don’t really feel like it…”, Spencer said softly as he grabbed his coat and bag.

“Oh come on pretty boy! It’ll be fun!”, Derek said as he patted Spencer on the back.

“I could definitely afford to get wasted”, you huffed, sneaking a glare at Spencer. He avoided your glance and reluctantly agreed to go for a little while.

When you all got to the bar, you and Spencer sat as far away from each other as possible. He slowly sipped on a beer as you, JJ, Emily, and Penelope went to the bar to order. He watched as you downed a line of shots, and he sunk further into his seat. 

You did four shots, gaining amazed, and slightly concerned looks from the girls. They knew whatever happened must have been really bad because you clearly wanted to forget everything.

“Whoo! Come on! Let’s dance!”, they couldn’t say no to that, so the four of you made your way to the dance floor. Penelope traded a knowing look at Derek who joined her. Spencer sat and watched as you all danced and jumped around, a light sheen of sweat forming on your forehead. You looked so beautiful and free, he thought to himself, but he quickly pushed the thought away and took a swig of beer.

You wanted so desperately to forget about Spencer, who discarded your entire friendship over one stupid night, but you couldn’t. The way the dim lights outlined his face made your heart race. All you wanted was to kiss him again. You had to do something to get your mind off of him. You thought the alcohol would help, but your intoxicated state was only making your feelings stronger.

Blurry bodies, but you're on my mind

We let it go now I'm full of rum and regret

I go out just so I can reforget

You jumped as you felt a hand on your waist. You turned to see a tall, handsome man with smirking eyes. Normally when in this situation you would tell the guy to fuck off because honestly you were repulsed by any guy who felt the need to grab a random woman’s waist at a bar. However, tonight, you found the unwarranted touch empowering. This is what you needed, you told yourself, some guy to help you forget about Spencer. 

Spencer’s eyes grew with anger as he saw the guy, who wasn’t him, dance up against you. He ran his hands all over your body, causing Spencer’s blood to boil. The worst part was that you seemed to be enjoying it. Normally when a guy approaches you at the bar, you find Spencer so he’ll give up and move onto some other girl. You always made Spencer feel special because he knew you trusted him to keep you safe. But now, seeing you grind against that arrogant man, in a way he has never seen you move before, was more than he could handle.

You hated yourself for what you were doing, knowing you would regret it in the morning, but it felt nice to be desired after three weeks of Spencer ignoring you. That’s why, when the guy pressed his lips against yours, you reciprocated will full force. 

“Do you want to get out of here?”, he whispered in your ear. You nodded, using all your willpower to not turn around and look at Spencer. He didn’t want you. He made that very clear. Why shouldn’t you go home with this guy? He was hot, a good kisser...not as good as Spencer...No! Stop! This is good. This is what you need.

Spencer felt a single tear roll down his cheek as that man kissed you. The salty taste consumed his mouth as he watched you leave the bar, your hands interlocked. He watched your blurred silhouettes leave as he broke down in tears. 

Two more footsteps on the wood floor, but it ain't you

I'm faded so I bring someone home

You opened the door to your apartment and he pushed you up against the wall, tracing your body with kisses. You moaned at the sensation, but when you closed your eyes, all you could see what Spencer. 

The guy, whose name you still hadn’t even bothered to find out, began to lift your top, running his fingers on your bare waist. At this, all you could think about was how much you wished that this guy was Spencer. Fuck, you thought, as tears brimmed your eyes. 

“Hey, I’m sorry, I’m just really tired…”, you said as you pushed the guy off of you.

“Oh, okay”, he forced a smile to hide his disappointment.

You walked to your bedroom, tears running down your cheeks, hoping he would just take the hint and leave. As you closed your bedroom door, you heard your front door close. You laid down on your bed and let yourself do the one thing you wouldn’t let yourself do all night: think about Spencer.

Already paying for tonight

Head spins like a carousel, over and over

Spencer had left not long after you. He made his way back to his apartment, where the only images protruding his brain were of you under that guy and him making you feel the way Spencer wanted to make you feel. He couldn’t get the thought of you moaning some other guy’s name out of his head. 

He tried to sleep but it was no use. Whenever he closed his eyes, all he could see was you. That’s it, he thought. He couldn’t take it anymore. He had to go see you. He looked over at his alarm clock: 3:28 am. Well, at least at this point he wouldn’t interrupt whatever activities the two of you had gotten up to. God, he hoped he wouldn’t walk in on that.

The short drive to your apartment felt like a lifetime. He thought about what he would say, how he would explain himself. He wanted you to know how much you mean to him, even if you didn’t feel the same. 

I never thought a sunrise

Could burn more than a midnight without you

You had been trying to sleep for hours, but it was no use. Images of Spencer filled your head. You were still pissed at him for ignoring you for the past few weeks, but to be honest, what hurt more was how empty you felt without him next to you. You missed how he would lay his head on your shoulder when he would fall asleep on the jet after long cases, you missed hearing his laugh every time you made a stupid joke at your desks, but mostly, you just missed talking to your best friend.

Spencer finally made it to your apartment and was relieved to not be greeted with any muffled moans. He stood at your door for a moment, collecting his thoughts. He scrounged up an ounce of courage and put his knuckles to your door. 

You jolted up as you heard a knock at your door. Confused, and exhausted from crying, you quickly wiped away your tears and headed for the door. Shock set in as you saw who it was.

When you opened the door, Spencer was met with your red, puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. His hair was more disheveled than normal, like he had been running his hands through it, which he always did when he was overwhelmed on a case. 

“What are you doing here?”, you croaked out, annoyance lacing your voice, after a few moments of silence. Spencer looked you up and down and his eyes softened at your current state. His heart twinged at the sight of you so upset. He secretly hoped you were only upset because of him and not because that idiot guy did something to hurt you when he wasn’t there for you.

“I just, I needed to tell you I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have ignored you like that, and I’m sorry”, he paused, waiting for your reaction. When you just stood there, unsure of what to say, he continued, “Are you okay? You-”

“Okay?!”, you cut him off, “Am I okay?! I don’t know Spence! Would you be okay if your best friend ignored you for three weeks just because of one stupid mistake?!” The pain in your voice broke through the anger as you choked back tears. It hurt him to see you in this much pain, especially because of something he did, but, what sent a sharp twinge through his heart, was hearing you admit that it was a mistake. He knew you would regret it. He should never have come. He turned to leave before you could see his own tears forming.

“Oh that’s it! Just leave me again!”, you sobbed. He snapped his head back around.

“Well, I’m sorry! But don’t you get it! I didn’t ignore you just to be a jerk! I can’t stand to look at you without breaking down. I’m- I’m sorry that I love you so much that it physically pains me to know you don’t feel the same.” You just stare at him, your eyes growing wider. “God, (y/n), I’m sorry but you can’t blame me for not wanting to talk to you after you realized kissing me was such a horrible thing. I’m sorry I’m not as hot or good of a dancer as that guy at the bar. And I’m sorry that seeing you leave with him and do who knows what literally kills me inside”, by now Spencer was sobbing. You still couldn’t bring yourself to react, still shocked by what he had said: he loves you.

Spencer let out a sigh and turned to leave again, only this time you grabbed his arm, just like that night three weeks ago, and placed a kiss to his lips. He quickly pulled away, not knowing whether you did it out of pity or to make fun of him.

“Spence…”, you looked into his eyes, “I never said kissing you was a mistake. C’mon, you’re the one who has an eidetic memory”. You expected him to at least let out a chuckle, but he replied sternly.

“You just said that night was a ‘stupid mistake’”, he huffed. Your face softened and you took a deep breath.

“I didn’t mean kissing you was a mistake”, you whispered, “I just-when you left after kissing me, I just-I thought”, you sighed, “I was so confused Spencer, cause that was the best kiss of my entire life, and then when you left and wouldn’t respond to my texts, I just assumed you didn’t want anything to do with me.” When he still didn’t say anything, you asked, “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”, he sheepishly asked.

“That you love me”, you said with a small smile. He finally looked you in the eye and mirrored your grin.

“Of course I love you, (y/n)”, he admitted matter of factually. You were about to kiss him again when he backed away and asked, “Wait, what exactly happened between you and that guy from the bar…”

“Oh”, you let out a coy laugh, “Sorry you had to see that… We came back here, but nothing happened. I couldn’t stop thinking about you and how much I wished it was you instead of him-”

“Really?”

“Of course… Spence...I love you too. That’s why I kissed you. When I pulled away at first it wasn’t because I was sorry I did it, I just was sorry in case I made you uncomfortable because I- I didn’t want to lose you…”

Spencer stared at you before enveloping you in a hug and wrapping one hand around your waist and the other in your hair. You placed your arms around his shoulders and rubbed your thumb on the back of his neck.

“I promise, you’re never going to lose me again”, he said as he kissed your head. You looked up at him and brought him in for a kiss. This one was just as passionate as the one you shared all those weeks ago, only it was gentler and more sensual. You grasped each other as if your lives depended on it. You continued your kiss as your salty tears mixed with the taste of alcohol in your mouths, but neither of you cared. When you finally broke apart for air, you embraced each other in another hug.

“Let’s go to bed”, you whispered in his ear. Spencer hummed in response and picked you up, earning a loud giggle from you. He put you down on the bed and crawled in with you. He pulled you close to his chest as you placed your face in the crook of his neck. The two of you closed your eyes and were finally able to sleep soundly for the first time in weeks, comforted by the presence of one another.

[collecting-stories]

Rain - JJ Maybank

Request: hello💛may i request jj x reader, they are bestfriend’s and lately jj has been seeing reader in a completely different way and he doesn’t know why? like he‘d get mad at the boys interested in her and whenever rafe or topper tries to hit on reader it always ends in a fight? maybe he abruptly kisses her one day and then does he realise he’s inlove with her? FLUFF & A JEALOUS JJ PLS😭❤️

Request: could you do a jj fic with a rain kiss? i don’t really have a plot in mind but maybe one where they’re arguing in the rain or something💖

Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

JJ sat on his board, ignoring the growing waves and Pope telling him to hurry up and paddle the rest of the way out to surf. He was too far away to hear anything you were saying but he was close enough to see you, standing there with your board, talking to Topper at the edge of the water. He squinted against the sun, trying to get a better look at your face as stood there. Were you smiling or was he imagining that? Did you like Topper? You had never mentioned anything about the kook to any of them, unless you just hadn’t mentioned it to him.  

Pope called JJ’s name again and he waved his other friend off, still trying to decipher what was going on with you and Topper on the beach. He would never admit it out loud but lately JJ had been feeling different about you. It wasn’t just some lust fueled, empty flirting. It was more than that. He couldn’t explain it and he’d definitely never felt like it before but he couldn’t sit there and watch you flirt with Topper. He paddled back toward the shoreline, getting off his board when he was close enough and walking to where you and Topper were talking.  

“Hey.”

You looked surprised to see him when your eyes met his but you recovered pretty quickly, “hey, what’s up?” You asked.  

“Thought you were coming out...it’s gonna storm soon.” JJ pointed out. You and Pope had been talking about going out to catch waves all week and there was finally a break in what felt like seven days straight of rain.  

“Yeah, I will, I’m just...” you looked back at Topper, still standing there. He raised his eyebrows in question, “I’ll be right there I’m talking to Topper.”

“Yeah...about what?”

“What?” You asked.

“What are you talking about?”

“How about, none of your business?” Topper commented, glaring at him.  

“How about you get the fuck off our side of the beach.” JJ said, stepping forward. You were quick to get between them, holding a hand out to JJ to stop him from coming any closer. Everything had been fine two minutes ago before he decided to come back to shore.  

“I’ll be right out J,” you said, “just go.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Please.”

“She told you to leave.” Topper cut in.  

“Seriously,” you rolled your eyes, “I got it.”  

“I can’t believe you’re seriously choosing him over me.” JJ said.  

You clenched your fists, trying not to lose your cool right here on the beach in front of Topper. This was the same bullshit that JJ had been pulling for weeks now. Interrupting any conversation that you tried to have with anyone that wasn’t him. He’d been antsy and unusually clingy just the other day when you were hanging outside the Chateau with John B. Now he was embarrassing you in front of Topper.  

“Can you not do this right now?” You practically begged before turning back to Topper, “I’ll talk to you later?”

“Text me.” He replied, nodding. He glared at JJ one last time before heading off down the beach, away from both of you. If only you could have gone with him.  

“What the hell is your problem JJ?” You laid your board down and started to gather the rest of your stuff. Shorts, sandals, shirt, all went in your bag.  

“My problem? You’ve been bitching all week about going out to surf and we finally get a few good hours and you waste them standing around on the shore twirling your hair and flirting with Topper.”  

“Fuck you! I’m allowed to talk, and yes flirt, with whoever the hell I want to.” You snapped.  

“Topper though? Get some fucking standards.” He replied, dropping his board down beside yours and grabbing your bag before you could finish packing it.

“Give me that back!”

“No!” He held it away from you when you tried to reach for it, “I’m trying to talk to you and you’re standing here packing up so you can run away.”

“Run away? You’re so fucking dramatic JJ! I’m leaving because you’re being a dick and you ruined  my entire afternoon.”

“Oh sorry you didn’t get to suck his-”  

You slapped JJ, hands immediately covering your mouth, eyes wide as you stared at him. You knew about Luke and you’d always been carefully of the way you acted around JJ. You’d never so much as jokingly nudged him.  

“Oh my god...J-”

JJ shook his head, holding his hand up. “I was out of line.” He replied. The moment he heard the words coming out of his mouth he knew he had taken his anger too far. He wasn’t surprised you’d slapped him, he wanted to hit himself too. He was being stupid and he knew but he didn’t know how to fix it.

“I shouldn’t have-”

“It’s okay.” He insisted.  

“I wasn’t flirting with Topper.” You clarified, “I didn’t deserve the accusation but I wasn’t flirting.”

“You were just out here talking to him and I saw you and-”

“I can’t just not talk to people because you don’t want me to...I get the whole kook pogue thing but I’m allowed to talk to whoever I want, without some six degrees from you.” You replied. You hadn’t meant to slap him but you weren’t going to let him get away with his behavior because of that.

“It’s not a kook pogue thing.” He looked away for a moment as a drop of rain hit his cheek. You looked up as it started to rain again, the umpteenth time this week. As you turned your attention back to JJ you saw Pope coming in out of the corner of your eye. At least someone got to enjoy a few waves.  

“Then what is it, because I’m so sick of this shit with you JJ. It’s every party, every beach trip.” You said. “I can’t talk to anyone without you right there. I don’t get it.”

“I just-” JJ let out a breath, frustrated with himself mostly. He was terrible with words as it was but he felt like he was incapable of just explaining to you what was the matter. Why couldn’t he just tell you that he liked you?  

“What?” You asked, “you just what?”

“I just-” He tried again, the rain overhead getting worse as he pushed wet hair out of his eyes. Without warning he leaned forward, knowing he’d either be slapped again or you would reciprocate. He kissed you, hand laying at the back of your head but trying not to seem like he was holding you there.  

Your eyes went wide and then quickly closed against the rain. JJ was kissing you, mouth on yours as if it was the most obvious reason of all and somehow you had never even considered that the reason he was so pissed was because he was jealous. You kissed back, grabbing at his waist to pull him closer, hands slippery on wet skin. He was jealous of Topper or John B or any nameless touron at a party and you couldn’t even fathom that because it was completely unbelievable. What did he even have to be jealous of?

“Guys!” Pope called, coming up the beach to where the two of you were standing. JJ pulled way, turning to look at his best friend.  

“What?”

“I’m real happy for you but can we get going? Now isn’t the time!” He insisted, looking back to the darkening sky over the water.  

“Sorry, sorry,” you apologized, grabbing your bag from where JJ had dropped it on the sand and sliding it over your shoulders, “JJ was yelling at me over Topper.”

“I wasn’t yelling at you!”

“No, totally, of course. You were so calm and collected.”  

“I would’ve been if you hadn’t been talking to Topper when we were supposed to be hanging out!” JJ replied, that slight crack in his voice back as he followed you and Pope up to the car.

“I’m joking J, god I kissed you didn’t I?”  

-

taglist: @maplelattes22 @poguesrforlife  @freckled-and-daydreaming  @chasefreakinstokes @millie-753 @fangirlwithme @alex12948 @katherine097 @tangledinsparkles @carbonated-beverage @mariofgreengables @damonsalvawhore27 @dopedoodes @dolanfivsosxox @belledutchess @poguelifeeee @faded-blue @parkerpetertingle @thebookwormlife @summer-clouds-and-long-days @jellyfishbeansontoast @minigranger @hoewkeye @love-someone-special @tiredfeels @strangerthanfanfiction713 @the-only-nana @tomzfrog @mozz-are-lla @vindictive-hearts @poguestyleskye @ssprayberrythings @jenahbell @beautyandthebleh @gothackedalready @teenwaywardasgardian @sarahcxmeron @haha-fuck-you-thot @stillbelieve398-5 @rewindlr @queenniccimicci @kissessforharryyy @thedarkqueenofavalon @alytavzla @bqmblebee @nerdypartytrashpsychic @xxchxrryxx @spencer-reid-is-a-cutie @danielladreaming @obx-saltlife @youngestxhearts @spnobsessedmemes @wowitswondergurl @mybnkjj @pineappleandcherries @mysterious-adventurer @justawilddreamerchild @rhyetaylor62 @calm-rejects  @oh-annaa @aiifandomsunite @x-lulu @ceruleanjj @wicked-laugh @obxwriterfan @allie-mcginn @pcterparxer @literarycharleton @khiaraaa-in-spacee @crushe-s @teamnick @daydreamlilys @collectiveuniverses @activist-af @mdgrdians @buckys-sunflower @vindictive-hearts @copper-boom @talksoprettyjjx @5am-cigarette @smiithys @dontjinx-it @outerbanksbro @mysticsthinking @heavenlymama  @rudy-pankow-needs-an-oscar @babymatilda @raekenliar @lemur46 @under-a-canyon-moon @calums-betch @jolomez @summerkaulitz 

[morceid]

Peppermint Plucks

SPENCER REID X MALE READER

read on ao3

Summary: When Spencer Reid starts to feel more lonely than usual, Penelope suggests he picks up guitar. Unexpectedly, he finds himself with a crush on his teacher.

Category: fluff

Warnings: implied sexual content

Word Count:1720

A/N: requested by @riley-killjoy​ ! thanks for the request :)

Garcia noticed first. Spencer had been more absent minded at work recently. He barely finished half of his case files before lunch anymore. Giving his troubling past, it was cause for worry. So she was going to do something about it. After most everyone left the office for lunch she walked into the bullpen and sat on his desk.

“Hey, boy genius, what’s got you slacking recently?”

“What are you, Hotch?” He retorted.

“Come on, I’m being serious! It’s lunch and you’ve only finished a third of your paperwork. What’s going on in there?” She ruffled his curls and pushed them out of his eyes.

“I don’t really know. I’ve just been feeling kind of lonely recently.” Spencer shrugged.

“What are you talking about? Emily brings you coffee once a week, Derek gets you food from that Thai place you love when you're working late, and we invite you out for drinks every Friday. You’ve got people that care about you, babes.” Penelope rubbed his knee as she spoke.

“I know. I guess I just want something more? I don’t know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I wish there was someone with me all the time. Someone to wake up to. Someone to go to sleep with. Just.. something.” Spencer fidgeted with the pen in his hands and looked at his feet.

“Aw, Spencer, you don’t need someone.”

“But I want someone.” He looked Penelope in the eyes almost urgently.

“Hey, since you spend so much time alone, why don’t you use your time to learn something?”

“Not sure how that would help seeing as I think I’ve learned just about everything, but go on.”

“You remember my ex Sam?” Spencer nodded. “Well, we got together because I started taking uke lessons after I got dumped. He was my uke teacher. He doesn’t teach anymore, but when I took lessons from him I used all of the time I could’ve for crying and I used it to play. Why don’t you give it a try?”

“Fine. I’m not playing ukulele though. Totally not my style.” 

“Totally not your style. Got it. Your first lesson on whatever string instrument you please is on Friday.” She got up from the desk and walked towards the elevators.

“Hey, Pen?”

“Yes, sugar cakes?”

“What’s the name of your current teacher?”

“Y/N!” She called as the doors of the elevator closed.

“Y/N..” Spencer repeated to himself.

On Friday Spencer showed up to Penelope’s apartment at 5:30, 30 minutes before Y/N would get there. As Penelope tuned her ukulele Spencer rambled about the history of string instruments and their improvement through the years. He jumped when there was a knock at the door.

Penelope opened the door and Spencer thought he was dreaming. Y/N seemed to be glowing before him. His smile was soft and kind. 

“Penelope! Good to see you again. I see you have a friend today.” Y/N said as he hugged Garcia.

“Yes! Y/N, this is Spencer. Spencer, this is Y/N.”

Y/N reached his hand out.

“Oh, he doesn’t-”

“Hi! It’s good to meet you.” Spencer took Y/N’s hand in both of his and shook gently, surprising Penelope.

“You too. Penny told me you’re looking for something other than a uke, so I got some other instruments in my car, but here’s a guitar for now. Pen, why don’t you start showing him some chords as I get the other instruments?” He slipped the guitar case off of his back and gave it to Penelope.

They sat on the couch together and Penelope showed Spencer the chords and how to play them.

“So, what do you think?” Penelope asked.

“About what?” Spencer wondered if Penelope could sense his nervousness that easily. He didn’t normally believe in true love at first sight, but holy hell did Y/N make him. When he shook his hand warmth spread through Spencer’s body and he swore that you could see his eyes turn to hearts. God, he hoped it wasn’t just him being lonely that caused him to think like this.

“About the guitar, silly. What else would I be asking?” Penelope chuckled.

“Yeah, of course, uh, the chords are really easy. Did playing come to you this fast too?” Spencer quickly changed between hand positions and mouthed the letter of each note.

“Definitely not! It took weeks to teach Penelope just two chords.” Y/N laughed as he brought in a violin and cello, each held in cases on his shoulders. The sound of his voice caught Spencer’s attention. He loved how he articulated his words. “Why don’t you try strumming on that?” He threw Spencer a pick.

Spencer gave an experimental flick on the first string before going across all of them. The sound came out strong. Penelope looked shocked as a perfect E flat tone rang through her apartment.

“Whoa! You’re really good. You sure you’ve never played a guitar?” Y/N asked.

“Well, my roommate in college played pretty often but I never learned from him. Always stayed up late because of his playing though.” Spencer said.

“Makes sense.” Y/N sat on the couch next to Spencer. “He ever let you try?”

“Nope. I guess I just memorized what chords he played for fun.” Spencer nervously smiled.

“So, you gonna go with the guitar?” Penelope asked.

“Yeah. It’s familiar. Easy to learn.” Spencer strummed again.

“Okay, well I’ll go practice in my room so I’m not disturbing you.” She got up and ran to her bedroom.

Y/N went over the correct way to strum in order to produce the correct sounds and Spencer got a hold of it fairly quickly. Over the next few weeks Spencer would go to Penelope’s apartment at 5:30 every Friday. Soon enough he began to learn his own song. Lessons would be an hour with Spencer and then an hour with Penelope.

One Friday Y/N stood behind Spencer and guided his hands to the strings. Spencer lightly gasped and tried to seem at ease as Y/N’s fingers touched his own. He smelled like peppermint and sweet candies to him.

“I think we’re alone now.” He whispered.

“What?” Spencer turned his head to look at Y/N in confusion.

“Uh, the name of the song. It’s uh- It’s by Tiffany Darwish.” He took his hands off of Spencer’s and leaned down to shuffle through his sheet music.

“Oh. Okay.”

The next Friday Y/N suggested they go on a little field trip to a guitar shop. It was time that Spencer got his own guitar instead of always using Y/N’s. They found one that fit comfortable in his arms and with the permission of the owner had his lesson in the store. Seeing as they all went in the same car, Y/N would drop off Spencer and then he would go to Penelope’s and they would have a lesson.

Y/N walked into Spencer’s apartment with him. Penelope stayed behind in the car.

“So, this is your apartment? Why haven’t we had a lesson here?” He asked.

“Guess I just never thought to ask.” Spencer laughed.

Y/N moved behind Spencer and brought his hand onto his hip. Spencer turned around swiftly. Now Y/N was holding the small of his back.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

“Yes.” Spencer breathed out.

“I’ve liked you for a while now, Spencer,” he took the pale man's face in his hands. “Can I kiss you?”

Spencer nodded and pressed his entire body up to Y/N’s. The kiss started slow and innocent, but Spencer loved the taste of Y/N’s peppermint chapstick and they slipped their tongues in eachothers mouths. The intrusion made them moan and Y/N pushed them against a wall.

“What will we tell Penelope?” Spencer said as Y/N moved his kisses to his chin.

“Why do we have to tell her anything?” He sucked hard onto Spencer’s neck, where any marks would be hidden just under the collar of a work shirt.

“Oh…”

Monday was the worst day for the weather to be hot. Y/N’s hickeys still hadn’t faded from Spencer’s neck and if he changed into a regular t-shirt from his go bag they would definitely be visible. Against his better judgement, Spencer changed in the bathroom. He’d rather die of embarrassment than heat.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. What you got goin over there, pretty boy?” Derek laughed as Spencer sat back down in his seat.

“Leave me alone, Morgan.” He scoffed.

“Nuh-uh. No way. If you got a girl I wanna be the first to know.”

“Not a girl.” Spencer mumbled.

“What was that?”

“He’s not a girl.” Spencer said clearly.

“Hey gu- Whoa! Spencer what is that?” Emily walked in with her coffee.

“Pretty boy has a boyfriend.” Derek stated.

“What?! Why didn’t you tell me? Aw man now I feel bad about setting you up on that date last week.”

“THAT was a DATE?” Spencer nearly screamed.

“Yep. And she’s still wondering why you haven’t called her back. So, what’s his name?” Emily laughed.

“I can’t say it. Also, he’s not a boyfriend. At least not yet.”

“Why not? Too embarrassed?” Now JJ had joined in the conversation.

“No! It’s just-”

“What is it, Spence?”

“He’s Garcia’s ukulele teacher..” He sighed.

“Wow, pretty boy. Wow.”

The next lesson progressed the same as it had two lessons before. Penelope was practicing in her room.They sat on the couch, Y/N’s hands guided Spencer’s on the guitar, and they pressed their bodies together. He showed how Spencer’s hand should pluck at the strings and once he got the hang of it they began singing the lyrics to “I Think We're Alone Now” together.

“I think we’re alone now..”

“There doesn’t seem to be,” Spencer spoke the next lines into Y/N’s lips, “anyone around.”

They began kissing, slow and deep. They pressed together and as Spencer turned more towards Y/N he dropped the guitar on the ground. The sound alerted Penelope and she rushed to the living room only to find Spencer pushing Y/N into a lying position on her couch with his lips. The second they heard her gasp they pulled away from each other.

“Sorry, Pen. He’s just too damn cute.” Y/N laughed.