#they ruined JJ for me after this personally

[only-one-brain-cell]

In case I haven’t already talked about the subject enough the biggest argument I’ve seen with people defending JJ in The Fight™️ is that Spencer brought up his addiction and his sobriety is not her problem.

HAVE WE BEEN WATCHING THE SAME SHOW???????

this is the one and ONLY time he has EVER brought up his addiction, in fact he went through lengths to keep it hidden. When he goes to the meeting he tells the team he was “seeing a movie” he is a complete bitch to Emily and never says “sorry I was a bitch I’m going through withdrawals.” She probably just chalks it up to Spencer having a bad day and she ends up being his emotional support person. Which is another reason why her “death” hits him so hard, I don’t think anyone knows how important Emily is to him. Sure she picks on him “he’s so lifelike” but he’s like a little brother to her they probably have conversations in forgiven languages and go see foreign films together, she’s the only one that supports his interests and doesn’t shut him down in the form of a “joke.”

Back to Spencers addiction, which he went through all on his own only for him to bring it up ONCE means it must have been serious. I think he’s doing a good job of being sober himself so this sentence needs to be taken more seriously then it does. No Spencer’s sobriety needs to be taken more seriously and the whole dilaudid storyline needs to be taken seriously. Especially when JJ just casually talks about it to Tara and Luke IMMEDIATELY AFTER Penelope SPECIFICALLY said she doesn’t want to talk about it, and as we all know PENELOPE CANT KEEP A SECRET FOR SHIT. Spencer telling JJ that he was thinking about taking dilaudid wasn’t anything less then expressing how much pain losing Emily was all for it to be a lie. A lie told by his “best friend” that he went to to help him grieve.

[tlou-reid]

Finishing Gifts ❤︎ Aaron Hotchner

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

♡ SUMMARY: after a few days of ignoring him, Aaron makes an effort to get your behavior to return to normal

♡ WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI, smut, female and male masturbation, phone sex, mentions of watching porn, sex toys, drinking, small mentions of criminal minds-esque themes and violence, pretty much porn with very little plot, this is not edited like at all

♡ NOTE: something about writing aaron masturbating makes me go brrrrrr

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You had thought you were keeping your cool. Honestly, truly, you had thought no one would notice the small changes in your behavior. You had tried to be subtle in dodging Hotch, doing it slowly and over time. It had started with piggybacking Spencer’s theories in the field, which led to pushing to go look at a crime scene rather than to the police department with Hotch. Then evolved into getting deep into conversation with JJ as you approached the jet, using it as an excuse to claim a seat next to her rather than your normal position between Hotch and the window.

These acts had gone unnoticed, or, at least, you’d thought. In your determination to avoid them, you hadn’t noticed the strange looks Derek and Morgan had thrown each other, and then Aaron, as you relaxed next to JJ. You missed Garcia questioning what had been up with you as you extended your time making coffee before a briefing, just so you didn’t have to walk behind Hotch into the room.

But, your latest change to avoid your unit chief definitely didn’t fly under the radar. This one was loud and clear, and absolutely threw off the entire BAU.

You’d just completed, by all possible metrics, a very successful case. It was a rare one, looking at terrorism in the DC area. A group of people who were planting explosives around the city, in unsuspecting areas. Instead of targeting political buildings or memorials, they focused on smaller-scale destruction. The team had been able to put the perpetrators away with no more casualties than those that were gone before the team landed. All in all, it was incredibly stressful, but a win for the team.

So, after Emily’s suggestion and Derek’s reminder that it was an extended weekend due to a government holiday, the team was getting ready to head to the bar. You had begged to go home to shower, promising you’d take an Uber (so you could, in Penelope’s words, “get fucked up with the girls”) and meet them at the bar in about an hour.

You put on your best outfit, showing an appropriate amount of cleavage, and did your makeup to the best of your abilities. After you’d cleaned up, you went to open your Uber app, excited to have a night to relax.

However, you were cut off when a phone call overtook your screen. “Aaron” the contact name read, indicating it was your unit chief, and that he was calling from his personal cellphone. You let ring a few times before picking up, not wanting to seem too eager to talk to your boss.

“Hellooo,” you practically sung into the phone, too excited to be worried about embarrassing yourself in front of him. He simply replied with a formal “hello,” followed by your name. “Please don’t tell me you’re ruining my longggg weekend,” You said to him, and he swore he could hear some of jewelry shaking. You couldn’t keep your excitement in, shaking your wrists, which made your bracelets make noise.

He chuckled a bit at your reaction to him calling, “No, no. I was just calling to see if you had left yet.” You smiled against the phone, knowing where this conversation was going. “Nope! I was actually ordering my Uber when you called,” you informed him. “So, you haven’t ordered it?” He questioned again, to which you replied with a “uh-uh”.

You couldn’t tell but your excitement about going out with your friends was essentially oozing through the phone, causing Aaron to maintain a bright smile on his face. You weren’t aware of how your vibe, your energy, was able to lift a weight off of Aaron’s shoulders that had been there for as long as he could remember.

“I also had to run home before meeting the team. If you’d like, I can pick you up.” Your smile, somehow, grew even bigger. Any excuse to see Aaron was a good one, you’d thought.

However, your face quickly fell when you reminded yourself that you were supposed to be avoiding him. You felt a pang in your heart as you said, “Thanks, but I have a few things to finish up here! I appreciate the offer, Hotch.”

With a quick, formal goodbye, the called ended. Aaron tried to ignore the fact that you lied to him as he drove the rest of the way. You had said you were about to call your Uber, and he heard your jewelry, meaning you were putting the finishing touches on your outfit. So why wouldn’t you accept his ride?

He tried to ignore the blow to his chest when you called him Hotch. Something about the use of his last name made him feel as if he’d done something wrong. Not that it was unusual for you, or anyone really, to call him that. It was the emphasis you’d put on it. As if you were trying to make it known he was Hotch and not Aaron.

Aaron tried to turn off his profiling ability, but it was proving to be had as all of his thoughts were currently encompassed by you.

The night, and the whole weekend if you were being honest, went by in a blur. You could tell Aaron had noticed the change in your behavior. You were standoffish at the bar, pretty much avoiding any conversation with him. You just hoped by the end of the long weekend it would be forgotten, and you’d be able to continue work as normal.

This dream was quickly demolished as Aaron was summoning you into his office before you had the chance to even put your bag down and unpack your files.

The sound of calling your last name both frightened and intrigued you. You couldn’t help but be attracted to the authority in his voice, even if it could mean you were going to be in trouble.

As you stepped into the voice, Aaron didn’t even look up. He mumbled a “shut the door, please,” as he finished recording some notes on an opened file in front of him. You stood awkwardly by the door, waiting for some kind instruction or reasoning from him.

“Please,” he gestured to the seats in front of his desk. You nodded, clumsily making your way to them. “I didn’t mean to scare you or make you uncomfortable by calling you in here,” he began.

You weren’t sure if you were more scared by being called into his office, to have a conversation that required you to both sit down and shut the door, or the intense eye contact he was maintaining as he introduced whatever discussion you two were about to have.

“I just couldn’t help but notice,” he paused for a second, trying to find the right words to say, “a recent change in your behavior.” You hoped he didn’t notice the way your eyes went wide, knowing you’d been caught. You didn’t have to ask what he was talking about to know you’d been caught, but you did anyway, “What do you mean?” You thought you were playing your part well, furrowing your eyebrows to truly emphasis your fake confusion.

“It feels as though you’ve been avoiding me.” Aaron says. His tone isn’t angry or even authoritative, but rather, disappointed. There’s a slight huff in the way he spoke. He didn’t give you a chance to defend yourself before he continued, “Which is fine if you so choose to do so. I would just like to know if it was because of something I did and if I could fix it. I want the team to function as well as it can, and I feel as though it would not if there was conflict between you and I.”

Aaron had to find a professional spin to throw his statement, knowing the professionalism of this situation was debatable at best. “Oh, sir,” you blushed, not really knowing what to say, “I don’t believe there is any conflict between us.” Your voice was formal, too formal. It was obvious you were under pressure. “So, what is it then?” He questioned.

You could feel yourself growing small under his intense stare. You could also feel the wet patch growing between your legs, making you slightly uncomfortable.

“You, uh, you kind of make nervous.” With your quiet voice and stutter, and the way your thighs squeezed together, it was easy for Aaron to pick up on the reason he made you nervous. His cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink instantaneously. “Oh,” his voice trailed off, followed by your quiet, “yeah.”

There was a few beats of silence before he cleared his throat. “Well, I’m glad to hear there’s no issues between us.” You nodded with his words, growing even more nervous. Your mouth was moving before your brain could catch up, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to, it’s just been a minute since I’ve, ya know, and I know you’re boss but I will be completely professional and this will not effect my work in or out of the field.”

While you mean to be assuring your boss that your attraction to him was no detriment to your work, you just admitted that it’s been a minute since you’ve had an orgasm. You needed to end this conversation quickly.

“If that’s all,” You said as you stood, “I have a few more reports to finish.” Aaron simply nodded, dismissing you back into the bullpen. You made a break for the bathroom, hoping to have a few minutes to collect yourself before facing the race of the team. You felt exposed, knowing you were entering a room of profilers after since a painful experience. You needed some time alone.

After a mini-breakdown, and cleaning up your messed up mascara, you made your way to your desk. Calm and collected. That’s all you had to be. Calm and collected.

Serial killers and other criminals had quieted down for the week, in an unlikely turn of events. You’d only had to travel for one day, quickly solving a kidnapping case and the finding the perpetrator. The week flew by swimmingly. Nothing odd had happened.

Until you opened your door Saturday morning.

You hadn’t ordered anything, that much you were sure of. Even if you did, you tended to shop at places with bright packaging that made you feel like you were opening a gift when it was delivered. This unsuspecting, plain box was not here on your accord, yet it had your name and address on it.

The FBI agent side of you flipped into protection mode, racing to grab your phone and dial up the one person you knew that could tell you what to do if there happened to be a bomb inside of the box. Derek Morgan. “Pretty girl, why are you facetiming me at 8:27am on a Saturday?” He teased with a smile on his face. No matter what time it was, Derek was ready to listen.

“I got this box and I don’t know what it is. I just want someone to be around when I open it.” You informed him, sitting down next to the box. You should probably be standing, just in case you had to make a run for it but you were too worried about getting it open to think that far ahead.

“Alright,” He said, urging you to open it. You nodded to him, setting up the phone so he could you see and the box in the frame. You carefully tore off the tape, and let out a sigh of relief when nothing happened when it moved. You lifted the flaps slowly, taking a loud gasp when you saw it was. You hoped Derek didn’t see, and moved quickly to pick up your phone to hang up before he could.

“It’s not a bomb! I’m good, thanks Derek!” You rushed, hanging up before he could say anything. Your eyes didn’t leave the box as you let your arms fall to your sides. Sitting inside of it was a small, pink rose toy. A vibrator. That you definitely didn’t order.

You grabbed the box, hoping none of your neighbors saw it. It’s not that masturbation was wrong or immoral or that you didn’t partake, it was just weird if the people around you were aware of your toys.

So, you made sure your door was tightly closed before putting the box on the table and digging through it. There was all the normal things, the vibrator itself, large bubble wrap, and a paper receipt with the name of the product: Intimately GG Rose Suction Simulator from Pink Cherry.

However, there was another piece of paper at the bottom of the box. It was a typed note that read, “I hope this helps us go back to normal. A.H”. You knew exactly one person with the initials A.H. so it wasn’t rocket science to figure out who had ordered you this sex toy.

You weren’t sure if you were more turned on or embarrassed.

Aaron was your boss. Your kind, protective, strong, hot, sexy, boss. But still your boss. You wondered if this is something he would’ve done for someone like Emily or Penelope if they’d been in your predicament. It clicked quickly that it definitely wasn’t, and that made you special in Aaron Hotchner’s eyes.

So, you made a mental note to give him a call, after you tried out your toy. Luckily, you had your cleaning solution and an old bottle of lube from your past encounters. You made quick work of getting the toy clean and finding a video to help you get yourself off.

Of course, the man in the video was a white man who was bit older, with broad shoulders and black hair. No coincidence there.

You started with your boobs, taking time to massage each one before pulling on and pinching them to get yourself warmed up. Between the sounds coming from the video and the excitement of finally having time to yourself, your hands didn’t take long to move downwards, tracing along the length of your body. One hand continued caressing your side as the other made its way to your core.

The thought of Aaron going out of his way to help you get off and the visual of a man who looked similar to him getting his dick sucked had you borderline dripping on your bedsheets as you used your hand to start toying with your clit. You started with small circles, matching the speed of the girl sucking Aaron’s lookalike’s dick.

You stayed like this for a while, allowing yourself to go slow, really take your time pleasuring yourself. The guy in the video had already finished on the girl’s tits by the time you reached for your rose toy. You didn’t need the visual anymore, perfectly crafting dirty scenarios of your unit chief in your head.

You started on low. There was gentle sucking on your clit as you imagined the way Aaron would kiss. He’s experienced, you know that for sure. You could imagine the way he’d start gentle, maybe even cupping your face as he pulled you close. He’d let you feel like you were in charge, before his tongue made its way inside your mouth. His dominant side would take over, using his body to press you against whatever surface you were sat on.

As you fantasized about his dominant side, you cranked up the toy to the next level. You let out a loud moan at the new feeling. Your free hand moved back to your breast, squeezing, while you did your best to imagine Aaron’s large hands doing it instead.

You could feel the coil in your tummy getting tighter and tighter as you imagined Aaron slowly stripping your body, dragging his hand along each and every curve. With a sharp pinch to your nipple and a cry of Aaron’s name, you came undone all over your rose toy.

You could feel your slick dripping down your hand as you worked yourself through your orgasm, making sure to enjoy it for as long as you could. You wished you could savor this feeling. It was the strongest, best orgasm you’d ever had. Nothing could compare to the euphoria you felt right now.

You flicked the toy off and sat it to the side once the feeling became too much. You couldn’t bring yourself to move from your position. “Fuck,” you breathed out, trying to relax the hard rise and fall of your chest.

Once you were able to relax, you made your way to the shower. You knew you had to call Aaron, but you needed to be much more relaxed than you were right now to have that conversation. The sting from the hot water helped ground you, allowing you to clear your mind. After you cleaned yourself, you cleaned the toy and put everything in your nightstand drawer for future use.

Then, you reached for your cellphone. You quickly found Aaron’s personal number and hit the call button before you could overthink what you were doing. He picked up on the second ring. “Hotchner,” he said, probably out of habit. “Hello, Aaron,” you smiled. This is the conversation you’d had with him in a while that didn’t make you feel nervous. “Hello,” he echoed with your name. You didn’t know, but he was smirking on the other side of the phone. He’d been waiting for this call.

“You sent me a gift?” You asked. “I did. Have you received it?” He wasn’t sure what grew more, his smirk or his cock. “I have. I’ve opened it and took it for a test run as well.” The way you two were beating around the bush was a turn on, but the way he sounded so self-assured, as if he knew what you were going to say, had you clenching your thighs together.

“How did it perform?” Aaron questioned, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table in front of him. This tightened the dress pants he was wearing against his hardened cock. “Very well,” You smiled. “I’m happy to hear that. I hope this is the end of all of your weird behavior.” Aaron chuckles. Just the sound of his laugh has you reaching your hand to squeeze the fat of your thighs.

“What weird behavior, Aaron?” You questioned, teasingly. This conversation is very different than any you’d had before, and it was turning you. You didn’t think it was possible with the strong orgasm you’d maybe an hour ago. But, Aaron was a special individual. He had that effect on you.

“You were avoiding me,” He scoffed. “I don’t know if I was. I think it was self-control,” You smiled, knowing you were baiting him. Without missing a beat, he took the bait, “And why did you need to practice self-control?”

Aaron leaned back in his chair, opting to press his hand against his cock instead of using the soft fabric to provide some kind of friction. He needed more, that much he knew.

“Because I was trying not to jump your bones, Aaron.” You breathed out. Your words had him squeezing his bulge, feeling like he could bust just from knowing you were attracted to him. “Fuck,” Aaron groaned into the phone. You giggled at his reaction, moving to press your hand against your core, again.

“Tell me about your toy,” He demanded, finally using the authoritarian tone that helped you get into this situation in the first time. “So you can touch yourself while I do?” You questioned, assuming he was in the same position as you. “Is that okay?” He questioned. “Of course it is, Aaron.” You promised, and used your permission as an excuse to unbutton his pants, and shove his hand under the waistband of his boxers.

As you started talking, he spread the precum, that’s been oozing from his pretty pink tip since he saw your contact name, along the length of his dick. “It was so good, Aaron. That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had.”

“Yeah?” Aaron encouraged you to keep going as he started stroking his cock. “Yeah,” You whined out, “I wish you could’ve seen me. My legs were shaking and I was leaking so much.” You smirked as you heard him groan in to the phone. His strokes had quickened in length. All he could picture was you spread out on his bed, cumming around his cock.

“What did you think about while you came?” You were surprised he was able to get the question out, especially because he only stuttered once. You wished you could see the way he squeezed his eyes together as he tugged on his cock. “You, obviously. I was thinking about your lips and your hands. I finished before I could get to the good part. I wanted to picture you fucking me from behind, pressing my face into the mattress.”

You were going to continue describing your fantasy to him, but he cut you off with a “Fuck!” as he came down his hands.

The line was silent for a few minutes before you spoke, “Hey, Aaron?” He hummed out a “yeah?”, before you asked, “Do you want to come over?”

“Give me ten minutes,” He promised, “and have the toy out.”

Well, you couldn’t refuse that.

[spencerreiddddd]

Cabin Trouble

Content: slight angst, happy ending, cheating? Emotionally?

Gist: When the BAU team decides to plan a weekend trip you agree, until you realize everyone is taking their significant other. You on the other hand are the only single person on this trip, and in love with your best friend Spencer. What happens when Maeve attends and you have to pack away your feelings?

You wanted to kill yourself, how did you even get into this situation in the first place?

The team had always talked about asking for a weekend off and having a vacation all together and now it had finally happened. However you now sat in the back seat of Spencer’s car as he drove and Maeve sat shotgun. How did you end up in this position?

Well Hotch ended up making this a team plus your family trip in order to bring Hailey which in turn Rossi brought Krystall, JJ brought Will, Morgan brought Savannah, Spencer brought Maeve, your beloved Penelope brought Kevin. However unfortunately for you the only other single person on your team which is Emily had to go to Paris for a family emergency.

Leaving you distastefully the only person without a partner, and sitting in Spencer’s car as y’all drove 6 hours to a cabin everyone had rented out to spend a weekend away from civilization.

“Did you get much sleep?” Spencer asked breaking you out of your thoughts. You head snapped up to see Spencer looking at you through the rear view mirror. “I didn’t sleep much since you told me you’d pick me up at 3am” you responded yawning a little.

Spencer chuckled at you as he turned his attention back to the road, causing you to smile then feel extremely guilty. You had known and been best friends with Spencer since everyone started at the BAU, you had been friends for so long you eventually grew to love him. However you were a coward and never did anything about your feelings always pushing them down and your excuse was always “not wanting to ruin a perfectly amazing friendship” however when Spencer started seeing Maeve you pushed your feelings down further. The realization the Spencer didn’t see you the same way was the push you needed to lock them away in a box and encourage Spencer to go after Maeve.

Once they got together you distanced yourself from him little by little to be respectful to Maeve and him. You hated the idea of being “the girl best friend” but most of all you didn’t want to hurt yourself further.

You were originally going to drive your car but Spencer had been noticing your distancing and was always looking for ways to have your attention and favor thats why he practically forced you to let him drive you to the cabin. Something Maeve clearly didn’t like, well she really didn’t like you in general.

“Spence I gotta use the bathroom, do you think we can stop at a gas station?” Maeve’s voice sounded out through the car as she placed her hand on Spencer’s shoulder.

“Yeah of course.” He said as he searched up the nearest gas station on google maps.

When Spencer pulled into the gas station Maeve was the first one out as she practically ran to the bathroom, causing you to giggle and her cute run. You knew Maeve was pretty and you were happy Spencer found someone attractive to be with.

“She’s cute.” You said halfheartedly looking at Spencer as you stood outside with him as he pumped gas. He turned his attention toward Maeve’s running figure and back to you with a look in his eyes that you didn’t understand. “She is.” He said in a weird tone causing you to raise an eyebrow, but you stayed quiet.

You had been talking with Spencer as he had finished pumping gas and you realized how much you had missed talking to him like this 24/7 and listening to every thought that came into his head because he had no filter. So much so you didn’t realize Maeve came back and was holding a bag full of sweets. “I’m back and brought sweets.” She said linking her arms around Spencer’s and lifting the bag up in the air.

“Oh what did you get?” Spencer asked trying to look into the bag, you giggled remembering the sweet tooth Spencer had. “You shouldn’t have brought this much candy Mr. Hollywoods gonna have a sugar crash.” You said jokingly causing Spencer to laugh and try to defend his sweet addictions.

“Mr. Hollywood?” Was all Maeve said and she looked at you and Spencer confused.

“Oh it’s a nickname Y/N gave me after one of our beginning cases at the BAU, I had to protect this actor Lila, and it’s a long story.” Was all Spencer said as he opened the door for you to get in the car and then walked around to open Maeve’s so she could also get in.

“Oh okay.” Was all Maeve said as she opened the bag and handed you a Swedish fish candy bag. “I didn’t know what candy you liked so I got you this.” Maeve said flashing you a awkward smile. “Thank you so much.” You said feeling grateful she at least thought about you even when she didn’t need to bring you anything.

“Oh Y/N doesn’t like Swedish fish, she’ll throw up if she eats them.” Spencer said turning his body to take away the candy from you and in turn hand you his which was Sour patch kids…. Your favorite.

“Oh no Spence it’s alright, she didn’t know and I can eat them there’s no problem.” You hurriedly said feeling embarrassed for Maeve, as you tried to grab the candy back from him.

“It’s fine just have mine.” Spencer said gently pushing your hand back. You stayed quiet the air thickening in the car, but it seemed as if Spencer was the only one immune to it as he drove out the gas station as you had three hours left on the road.

It was 6am and the glare Maeve threw at you made you uncomfortable so you decided to sleep the remainder of the drive to avoid anymore awkward situations.

And sleep you did, you were woken up by Morgan violently shaking you. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,Y/N.” He repeated like a toddler trying to wake their parents up in the morning. “Morgan I swear if you shake me one more time I’ll pour acid on your head and you’ll be bald forever.” You said snapping your head at him annoyed. “The princess has awoken.” Is all he said as he laughed at your threat, Savannah shoved him away and came up to you.

“Ignore this bald man he has no manners.” Savannah said as you unbuckled yourself and hopped out the car grabbing your luggage.

“I don’t know how you survive, I would be behind bars for his murder already.” You say smiling at Savannah and pulling her into a tight hug. “Trust me girl it’s hard.” She says as you both bring your luggage’s into the front of the two story cabin.

“You know I can hear you both bad mouthing me.” Was all Derek said as he placed his hands on his waist causing you and Sav to laugh.

Hotch was the last to arrive and the one with the key, it was around 3pm and everyone was sitting on the cabin porch talking.

“Finally your here!” Penelope said as Hotch walked up the steps to the porch and carried his and Hailey’s luggage.

“I apologize we ended up having to bring Jack along because he didn’t want to stay at his aunts, I hope you guys don’t mind.” He said as jack approached with Hailey.

“Absolutely not!” You were the first to say as you got up and practically ran up to Jack and picked him up in your arms as he laughed. You had known jack since hailey was pregnant and you had babysat him more times than you could count when Hotch and Hailey wanted a night out or in…. If you know what I mean.

“Y/N I missed you!” Jack said hugging your neck.

“I missed you more buddy!” You said closing your eyes as you swayed him around missing the way Spencer’s eyes were on you the entire interaction with Jack and the way he smiled.

“You won’t be the only single one here now.” Hailey said coming up to you and giggling as she placed a kiss on your cheek. “Don’t remind me.” You groaned and walked into the house as Hotch unlocked the door.

“There was a miscommunication with the AirB&B person and instead of 6 rooms there’s 5.” Hotch said looking at you.

Everyone’s eyes looking at you too now. “How wonderful.” You said sarcastically placing Jack back down on the floor. “ I can take the couch, it’s fine.” You said turning your attention to the wooden couches with pillow tied cushions. Great you were gonna have back problems and sleepless nights this weekend.

“Actually, there’s a pullout couch in Spencer’s and Maeve’s room if you’d like to use that one.” Hotch added causing Maeve’s head to snap up to look at you a look of disgust and horror flashed across her face. You didn’t blame her, all of the sudden the couch seemed way more comfortable than before. But before you could deny the offer Spencer grabbed your luggage and headed upstairs “That’s perfect that way you won’t have to stay downstairs all by yourself and on that uncomfortable couch.” He said as he reached the top of the stairs, everyone nodded and began walking upstairs to their assigned rooms as well.

Meave flashed you a glare as she walked upstairs to find Spencer, making you cringe. You absolutely hated the idea of how these next three nights were going to go.

So this was an idea that popped into my mind while I was day dreaming (as one does) but it turned into a longer story as I began writing. So I’m going to have to do a part two! Lemme know if y’all like it.😁

[princessbrunette]

you remembered the first time you laid eyes on jj maybank.

a shitty admin job was the best you could score from your father, the sheriff — something light you could add to your resumé, whilst doing minimal work. you didn’t anticipate working in the local jail to be as boring as it was, despite knowing you were going into a job that consisted solely of checking people in and out and punching names into a computer. you tried to make it as fun as possible, showing up in your cutest miniskirts, fluffiest jackets, daintiest mary-jane heels, but there was never anyone interesting coming in and out the cells, only drunks being thrown into the tank after one too many.

that was until jj came along.

it was like everything moved in slow motion the first time he got brought in. your father had the blondes wrists clipped behind his back, shoving him along the hallways. it was the first young person you’d gotten in weeks, your shoulder finding the door frame as you stare, watching in intrigue. whatever jj had done to get himself wound up in a cell, he didn’t seem remotely sorry about it. the smirk on his face was worn proudly as a medal, even whilst being shoved along by the sheriff he had this swagger to each step. you didn’t even realise you were staring, dressed in all your girly glory until he locked eyes with you.

his smirk spread on his face. jj knew who you were, but that was to no surprise — everyone did. the sheriffs daughter. a title you wore not so proudly, as all it did was get you labelled as a narc by association in high school and barred from any party where drinking or smoking could potentially be occurring. jj’s eyes drag down you, and then back to your eyes, even turning his head to hold the eye contact as he got shoved into a cell.

your father followed his gaze before grabbing a fistful of his white tshirt to hold him straight. “and quit eye balling my daughter, would you?”

he holds your gaze with that amused grin for a moment longer before blinking down at the shorter man. “thats my bad, sheriff.” he drawls in that lazy southern accent of his. you had to have him.

it was over from that point on. you’d seek him out, tired of being associated with your fathers profession and wanting to have some fun for once. jj was more than happy to oblige, infact he couldn’t believe his luck. there was a thrill to the two of you being out in the open together, something in the two of you wanting to be caught — just to see what would happen. you’d even go as far as to makeout against your car right outside the station after you’d finished a shift, jj all but shoving his tongue down your open mouth as his hands grope you all over for other officers to see and relay to shoupe.

jj frequently returned to his temporary cell with all the trouble he’d get in — your glossed lips turning upwards elatedly at the sight of his cuffed form trudging its way through the hall like routine. you’d even gotten to the point of ignoring your father and running to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “oh jayj what’d you get yourself into this time?” you whine, only for him to chuckle it off with the same joke he made each time.

“maybe i just wanted to see you, babydoll.”

by which at this point, your father had yanked you off the boy, sending you away. “go do your work, don’t lemme tell you again.”

of course it drove a wedge between you and your father. but he deserved it! he ruined your social life growing up by shutting down parties and arresting your peers, the least you could do was date one of his hottest cell-regulars. every gaze across the waiting room as maybank checks out was met with your father appearing seemingly from nowhere to ask “you really think it’s gonna work out with a kid like that? don’t come cryin’ to me when you get hurt. i warned ‘ya.” to which you’d roll your eyes and walk away. jj would never hurt you, not unless you asked him to.

he was always desperate to get his hands on you in other ways during your alone time, crowding you from behind at the sketchy bar he’d brought you to and wrapping his arms round your waist.

“your daddy’s gon’ be real mad at me for bringing his sweet little daughter to a joint like this.” he jokes, pressing kisses to the sweet spot behind your ear as you lose interest in attempting to attract the bartenders attention.

“he’s not the boss of me.” you sigh, eyes fluttering at the feeling of his hands and mouth on you. you hear him chuckle, craning round to look at you from the side.

“nah? all grown up now, huh.” he comments, making a weak giggle leave you as you press your ass further into his crotch. “guess someone’s gotta step up then, right? maybe next time i’ll be the one puttin’ you in cuffs. bet you’d like that.” his coarse hands slide down your arms to your wrists before binding them with his hands behind your back, continuing to attack your jaw and neck with little kisses.

“you can do whatever you like to me, jj.” you admit sweetly, and he responds with a kiss to your cheek.

“i know. it’s my favourite thing about ‘ya.”

[silent-stories]

𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Summary: lying in bed with jj, you see the bruises on his stomach.

"You know that you snore?" You ask the boy lying in your bed, next to you, one arm under the pillow and the other thrown lazily around your waist.

That morning, it's hot in your room, but it's not the unbearable hot of the days that makes you want to rip off your skin and find a place with free air conditioning, but the heat that makes you want to stay in bed late before having a cold coffee and go for a walk by the sea with your favorite person.

The sun's rays filter through the open window and in the distance you can hear the ocean waves crashing against the reef.

A soft chuckle escapes JJ's parted lips as a pair of ocean-colored eyes meet yours. "Good morning to you too." His voice is husky but his tone is clearly amused, his hair messy.

It is indeed, a good day, when you wake up in your bed with him next to you but that would be too cheesy to say so early in the morning.

You can't help but smile and before you know it he has you pushed against him and his lips are on yours.

He always tastes like weed, alcohol and the sea.

As he wrap his arm around your waist, the sheet slides off his body, revealing his bare chest and your gaze falls on the bruises on his rib cage, like it did the night before. This time, however, you can't help but observe the dark blue and purple marks on his skin for more than a few seconds.

He looks at you for a moment after breaking the kiss, noticing what caught your attention and with a huff, he drops onto the bed next to you. The matress springs make a slight creak.

"Don't." He says.

"What?"

"Don't look at me like that. I'm fine." His eyes are fixed on the ceiling.

You slowly reach out, your fingertips grazing his stomach, delicately tracing the soft outlines of the bruises there.

"I fell, I-"

"Yeah. I know" You want to be mad because he persists in not opening up to you but the look into his eyes lost in the void stops you every time.

You both know you're lying and you both know the other is doing the same.

"You know you can stay here right? Whenever you want."

Your tone is soft as you ask that, turning towards him, resting your elbow on the mattress and settling your head on your hand, looking at his profile: the shape of his lips, the blue of his eyes in the sunlight streaming through the window, a few strands of blonde hair falling on his forehead.

"If... you have any kind of problem, you're welcome here. Any time of the day or night, Jay. You know that, right?"

You only realize you're still tracing imaginary patterns on his skin when you feel his fingers meet yours, his hand on his stomach to find yours and lace your fingers together.

When he finally turns his head towards you, there's a slight smile on his lips and it's not his usual sarcastic smirk or the grin he shows to John B when he is talking about Sarah or when he manages to escape from a cop. It's softer, more sincere.

"I know."

You stare into his clear eyes for a moment and decide to believe him.

You sigh, “okay.”

You don't know how much your offer means to him, you don't know that every other girl he's laid in bed with in the past never cared about a busted lip or a scratch on an arm unless it was ruining his pretty face.

You don't know that if he had been any other girl that morning he wouldn't have stayed in your bed but would have left before the sun even rose.

With you it was different. You cared. And for the first time, he cared too.

Your room wasn't like his house or even like the chateau. It was becoming his favorite place so quickly that it almost amazed him.

And you were becoming his favorite person, but that didn't surprise him that much.

It was getting impossible not to love the sound of your laughter and the way you could reassure him with a simple touch.

"Thank you." He whispers.

You smile and reach out to brush the blonde hair out of his eyes.

His hand was still holding yours.

[harrysbelovedd]

carnival date [rafe cameron]

pairing - rafe cameron x reader

summary - you get sick of rafe playing hard to get, so you decide to hit him where it hurts.

warnings - swearing, angst/fluff

Lights shone brightly below us, a large teddy bear sitting between us. As the ferris wheel begins to approach the boardwalk ground, I look over at JJ. I smile lovingly–hoping my acting is believable. 

“Is he looking?” I whisper through clenched teeth. 

JJ’s eyes peer down, spotting a furious Rafe standing on the ground, smoke practically fuming out of his ears. His strong arms cross over his broad chest, veins in his hands protruding out of anger as he clenches his fists.

“Oh he’s looking, and I think–correct me if I’m wrong–he is going to kill me and throw my body off the pier once we got off this fuckin’ thing.” He widens his eyes, nodding his head toward the man I’m really here for.

“Possibly,” I shrug, “Don’t worry I’ll put in a good word, you should lock your doors though.” I warn, playfully. Except just to be safe, JJ probably should triple check his locks tonight. Rafe’s jealousy is unexplainable. But that’s what he gets for thinking he can play hard to get with me.

Rafe and I have been playing this game for months, he shows his interest in me on a drunken night, then the next morning acts like I don’t exist. He knows that I know how he feels, and I’m sure he knows how I feel. Today, I grew sick and tired of him acting like a child. So, I decided to use the one sure-fire way I could get him to fess up.

Jealousy.

I don’t hang out with the pogues much, but JJ Maybank happened to owe me a favor. A couple weeks ago he snuck into Midsummers trying to find some free booze. So, when security caught him, I covered for him and told him he owed me. So, here we are. Pretending to be on a date to make Rafe jealous.

Soon enough, the ferris wheel came to a stop. JJ stood up, grabbing my hand and the teddy bear as we hopped off the ride. Rafe now stands with Topper and Kelce, pretending to be part of their conversation. But really, his eyes are purely on JJ and I. 

“Kiss me, JJ.”

His eyes widen, “Woah I-”

“Please, it’ll set him off and he’ll come over here, trust me.” I beg.

He rolls his eyes, “Alright but we’re even after this.”

He leans in, his calloused palm holding my cheek, pulling me closer. My eyes flick down to his lips and before we even have the chance to actually kiss–

“Yo, Maybank!” 

My lips curl into a smirk at his voice. Just like clockwork.

We both turn to see the brooding man walking toward us. His gaze is lethal, every other person on the boardwalk making way for Rafe Cameron. His jaw clenches, his fists balling by his sides. 

When he reaches us, he chuckles menacingly, “This is cute. I don’t give you attention so you go for the fuckin’ pogue?”

I scoff, “No, JJ just has the emotional maturity of an adult who’s able to actually understand his feelings and act on them.”

I hear JJ chuckle next to me, probably never expecting to hear the words “emotional maturity” and “JJ” in the same sentence. 

“He’s gonna treat you like shit, y’know that right? He’ll use you for what he needs then he’ll toss you aside,” He argues, turning toward JJ. “And when that happens you better watch your fuckin’ back JJ. You hurt her, I’ll kill you.” He seethes. 

I push JJ back, hopefully sending him the signal to leave before Rafe does something stupid. “And you’d do any better?” I scoff, “I see the girls you bring to Tannyhill and never fucking speak to again. I stopped wasting my time the second I realized you’d do the same to me.”

His anger stops at my words, he steps closer to me. “Do you really believe that? They weren’t you! I’ve been so terrified of hurting you I’ve been trying to protect you from myself. They were nothing.”

“Why didn’t you just say that?” I whisper, my fingers tugging at the hem of my top.

“Because–” He hesitates, “I’m stupid. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. And I’m just stupid.”

“You are stupid,” I chuckle. 

He smiles, his head dipping down to meet my line of sight. His fingers push my hair behind my ear, “So can I kiss you now? Your date ditched.”

“Yeah, that wasn’t a real date,” I smirk.

“Oh you’re just as jealous and fucked up as me, huh baby?”

I grin as he pulls my face toward him in his palm, smashing his lips against mine.

[demonicbaby666]

ii. The Date

Feelings Are Fatal Masterlist | Masterlist | iii

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x fem!Reader

Words: 6.7k+

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, body issues, attempted drugging, internal conflict, fingering

Showers should be about cleaning yourself and ensuring no dirt clings to your water-streaked skin. In that process, it doesn’t hurt to smell like cinnamon, vanilla, or something more earthly, like lavender or rose. Yet, after the previous night, it felt more like you were trying to wash the mark of JJ off your skin rather than the sweat exertion had left behind. You scrubbed the purple marks tattooed against your thighs, neck and breasts till the flesh beneath was tender and raw. No part of you was left unscathed by brittle bristles. 

The constant spray of water bled down your face, diluting your salty tears and carrying them down the drain. You watched, transfixed, as soap trickled down your chest, torso, then legs, thinking of how JJ had used her fingers to trace a similar path and how her touch was somehow suppler than liquid. 

Maybe it was ten minutes, perhaps it was thirty, but eventually, when your fingertips pruned and your tear ducts emptied, you made your way out of the shower, leaving a trail of wet footprints leading to your bedroom. When you sat on the floor, towel splitting down the middle to reveal a slither of your stomach, your reflection stared blankly back at you in the mirror. 

You made a habit of this, pointing out everything you hated about yourself, from the bags under your eyes and the ragged cut of your hair to how your thighs always found a way to touch one another and the chipped nail polish on your toenails. 

‘You’re perfect.’ 

That’s what JJ had said. Looking yourself over, you did not feel the same. You felt dirty despite showering. You felt that not one part of you was ‘perfect’. Her lies made you sick. They echoed in your mind, ‘You’re perfect’ round and round, over and over, louder and louder, until your lungs burned, your eyes stung, and your knuckles blanched. 

As it turned out, your supply of tears were not depleted in the shower. 

An hour later, coffee filled the air, chatter hummed low in your ears, and caffeine helped you feel less like a living zombie. You’d painted your face with concealer, brushed mascara through your lashes and balmed your wobbling lip, begging yourself not to cry lest you ruin your makeup. By the time you were ready, checking yourself over in the mirror once again, you managed to crack a convincing smile. 

The bell above the quaint shop door rang, and you tore your gaze away from the steam rising off your latte to the two women entering. Garcia led the pair, recognisable as ever with her bright attire and beautifully bizarre accessories. Behind her was someone undoubtedly as recognisable but not to the untrained eye. You only knew who it was because it was the same person you had spent the previous night and the following morning under, JJ. 

Any semblance of normalcy you had managed to muster up disappeared instantly. Panic rose from the depth of your stomach, and you clung hard to the cup in your grasp, scarcely registering the burn of it till it was all too late, and you hissed in pain. 

JJ was by you in a second, taking your inflamed fingertips in her hands and assessing the damage. 

“You need to be more careful,” she chided, thumbing over reddened skin. 

After quickly checking that Garcia was busy chatting with the young barista, JJ raised your hand to her lips. She kissed each finger softly, leaving you breathless and wide-eyed when she laid your entwined hands on her lap and thanked Garcia - who returned with a bright smile - for paying for their coffees. 

“Sorry for gate-crashing.” JJ turned to smirk at you. “I needed a bit of a pick-me-up after a long night. I hope you don’t mind.” She had the audacity to flick one of her eyebrows up and down. 

“No, no,” you spluttered, cheeks turning rogue as you struggled to find the right words, “It’s okay. It’s just, well I-” 

Garcia happily interjected, and you would have thanked her for it had you not seen the words form in her mouth and detected the dread they would bring. You knew this would come up. Hell, it’s why you were meeting with Garcia in the first place. Still, after the move JJ had pulled, caressing your burnt fingers with her lips, you were okay to go on without the reality check. 

“JJ won’t mind us talking about your hot date tonight,” she said with a smile and a wink, turning to the blonde for confirmation, “Right?”

You didn’t dare look up. 

It wasn’t that you expected JJ to be hurt or upset; it was quite the opposite. You couldn’t stand to see the encouraging look she’d give you or the elated smile she may offer at the prospect of you finding someone to date because that was JJ—the ever-supportive friend. 

Her grip on your hand faltered. You forced yourself to be brave, to look up. 

She almost looked… hurt. No, it wasn’t possible. It was her ego bruised, not her heart. She wasn’t like you. Her heart wasn’t on the line. 

“Go for it.” She shrugged, looking to the side, uninterested. 

“It’s a friend of a friend from work.” You were unsure why you needed to justify going out on a date to JJ. She clearly didn’t care, and you were single, after all. That didn’t stop you from reassuringly squeezing her hand and continuing. “She’s been pestering me for weeks, and I felt bad. That’s all.” 

Like ice out on a summer day, you melted when JJ gave you a sympathetic smile. Poor little you, so limited in options you had to rely on the kind help of friends to find anyone that could possibly want you. It’s probably why she kept you around—pity.

“You should stop being so nice,” JJ said rather bluntly, splitting her gaze between the wailing espresso machine and Garcia—who looked slightly puzzled. 

“I thought you said you were looking forward to tonight?” Garcia scowled. 

Once again, you'd most likely shown your hand. This time, it was being so nonchalant about your date. Of course, a hundred dates would never change the fact you'd always belong to JJ. Hell, a hundred tearful mornings would never change that; not even a hundred rejections would. But no one needn’t know of that, so it became imperative to cut your words from gold. 

“I am. It’s the getting ready part that’s tedious.” You did not mention that it was all too easy the previous night to jump out of bed and doll yourself up for JJ. “Plus, these guys only want one thing most of the time.” Finishing off with a deep sigh, you took a well-deserved swig of caffeinated goodness and hummed appreciatively as it warmed the empty pit in your stomach. 

“Why not?” Garcia laughed, getting a little louder when you and JJ shot her twin looks of perplexion and shock. “I mean,” she sang. “Why not go for it? Have a little fun. Live a little. Fuck the guy.” 

JJ choked on her coffee. 

Finally, your hands broke apart in favour of ensuring the liquid lodged in JJ’s throat did not linger long enough to suffocate her. 

“Strictly speaking, I’m not into the whole one-night stand thing,” you replied, patting JJ’s back. 

“Come on!” Garcia exclaimed, looking to the recovering blonde for aid. “Tell her. She needs to get laid.” 

JJ choked again. This time on thin air. 

When JJ did finally find her voice, it was raspy and scathed. “I think she should do whatever will make her happy.” 

Five years' worth of happy memories washed over you, times where you’d smiled, where you laughed, and most treasured—the ones you felt you finally belonged. They almost all had JJ in them, at the forefront or the sidelines, bringing about steady streams of merriment.

How were you supposed to tell her that she made you happy and that being with her would grant you the joy people only find in fairytales? You couldn’t. 

She wouldn’t understand. She’d want to stop what you two had and keep her distance in case she gave you the wrong idea–that she slept with you for any reason other than calming her avid sex drive. 

“I guess we’ll have to see what tonight brings,” you muttered, bringing your coffee to your lips and pointedly avoiding both women’s gazes. 

—

As it turned out, the evening wasn’t off to a bad start. After coffee, JJ and Garcia returned to your apartment and helped you choose what to wear. Garcia was far more enthusiastic about taking on the role of your stylist, while JJ remained quiet, nodding her head at most outfits and only showing slight disdain for the more flashy picks. 

Sitting at the populated bar, the unsettling image of JJ lingering at your door plagued your mind. 

Glass clanked at your side and to your front. The classical music caged in wall-mounted speakers struggled to drown out the ruckus of drunken laughter. 

Her lips were screwed shut, and her posture rigid as she took on the appearance of a skittish animal, ready to run at a second's notice. There was something stuck in her throat, a clump of words she seemed to fight to hold back and get out simultaneously. 

The distinct crunch of metal scraping against ice jostled you for a moment. Like a cat to a mouse, you did not remove your gaze from the cubes haphazardly thrown into a highball glass, the cling satisfying in your ears. You watched as mint leaves joined two succulent slices of lime, both soon drowned by a hefty amount of clear liquor and finally topped with a sticky sugared syrup. The bartender took little care in dumping the cocktail in a metal cup, shaking it up and down with even less caution and paying no mind to the spillage leaking down his arms. 

Again came the scoop of ice, with fresher, newer, untouched cubes for the misty glass. The drink was poured through a strainer, and the deformed, melted ice that served its purpose was thrown out. Used and forgotten. 

In the end, JJ never did get the words out. Instead, she let out a little puff of air through an artificial smile that could be mistaken for a laugh if it weren’t for the lack of amusement in her eyes. Muttering a quick “Have fun” and a quiet “be safe”, she left. 

The sullen slink of her back haunted you as you watched a young man approach you, matching the description given of your date. 

His hair was an ashy black, the colour you’d see at the end of a haunted alleyway in the late hours of night. Every man, woman and child knew better than to venture in, yet none could deny the urge to take the risk. He was slim and tall, his stubble well-groomed. The line from alabaster skin to coarse wisps of brown hair looked almost painted as it cut contours down the side of his face, making him look slightly like a film noir villain. Nonetheless, it did suit him. 

He seemed pleasant, a little fidgety, his hands clasping and unclasping air, but that was to be expected. It was a first date, after all. 

When he sat down, bringing with him from outside the fragrance of rain and bark, conversation flowed surprisingly well. It was nowhere near comparable to the tete-a-tetes you share with JJ. But the convergence between topics wasn’t forced or awkward. You thought it was nice for a brief time; the voices in the back of your head were eerily quiet, and the constant jibber jabber forcing you to dissect everything you planned to say or had already said was quashed. It was something you could get used to—peace. 

On the last swallow of your drink, weeds began to sprout, and the guilt started to kick in alongside the woozy effects of rum. His mouth was moving, and your ears were ringing, and you could think of was JJ. How being there, sitting at a bar, having fun without her on a date felt like betraying something you didn't have. You weren’t cheating; you’d have to be in a relationship for that. Yet, the dread in your stomach didn’t settle at the thought. 

He was staring at your empty glass when you returned to the room, something unreadable and dark in his constricting pupils. 

“You want another?” he asked. 

“I probably shouldn’t,” you chuckled, a chill running down your spine. “I’m going to run to the restroom.” 

As your heels touched the floor, fingers wrapped around your wrist, holding you in place. 

“Live a little.” His eyes were pleading–uncomfortably so. His fingers bit harder into your wrist than strictly necessary, and you nodded. If only to get yourself out of this uncomfortable predicament, you’d abide by another person's wants. “Sweet,” he said with a smile that failed to meet his eyes, “I’ll order you another for when you get back. It’s on me.” 

You pulled your hand out of his callus grip, making for the bathroom with a quick thank you. 

It was weird. After leaving that situation, alarm bells should have been ringing blaringly loud. However, you found them to be a distant shrill looming in the backs of your ears. What, unsurprisingly, occupied your every thought was JJ. You thought back to how her hand would never hold you with such brute force, how her smiles were genuine and lit up her eyes. As you reached to halt the steady water flow from the tap, you thought of her perfume–the full-bodied scent that had the air of walking into an apothecary. It was so visceral you could smell it even then.  

The door swung open.

Darting your eyes up into the mirror, staring at the straight-backed figure behind you, it started to make much more sense why such a thing happened. 

“What are you-” 

JJ left no space for you to question her presence or her crashing of your date. She took you by the hand and pulled you towards the door. “We’re leaving.”

The cubby in which relief once sat at seeing a familiar face emptied. Confusion and irritability at the audacity of JJ’s rash actions now took its place. 

You yanked your hand back, ignoring the dejected look she shot you at the mere thought her touch could burn you so. The hurt didn’t settle for long on her face. Instead, her nostrils flared, her ears lit up red, and she wore the distinct look of a parent squabbling with a petulant child.

Who did she think she was? Barging in and acting like you were at fault for not complying immediately. 

“What the hell has gotten into you?” you screeched. 

It was strange to see her this way–out of sorts and bordering on berserk. Her eyes were frantically moving to and from the door like someone was about to burst through and steal you away. You briefly wondered if she was like this at work. It was no secret that JJ worked for the FBI. After all, it was the stress of her job that led you to her bed often. She needed an outlet, and you were it. Still, you’d think working in such a high-stakes environment would train you to have better etiquette than what she displayed then. Frankly put, she was a mess. 

“Would you just do as you’re told for once?” she whispered, though she may as well have shouted with her brassed-off tone. 

Try as you might have to school your features, it was useless. Your resentment for JJ, alongside her statement, was clear as day. 

Propriety be damned. You took two steps forward and jabbed your index finger right to her sternum. “Firstly, you have no right to order me around. So no, I won’t do as I’m told.” Your eyes were unrelenting as they burned holes into JJ’s. “Secondly-”

As it turned out, getting in JJ’s personal space wasn’t a good idea. It made it incredibly easy for her to grab you by the waist, seek out your lips and back you up against the bathroom counter. If only to further prove her insistence on your silence, her tongue pried its way into the kiss, hot and hurried as it ran a muck of your brain and body, reducing you to nothing but a mess of wanton need. 

She was harsh with her kisses, a contrast to her light touch. Her fingers curled around the edges of your waist, massaging knots out of your back you could never reach. All noise disappeared, leaving you both alone in a strangely intimate moment. 

The lump of anger in your throat dissipated like morning fog by the time you broke away for breath. Looking up into JJ’s eyes something had changed–softened even. 

“Do you trust me?” she asked, breathless as the tips of your noses kissed. 

The answer came without hesitation, “Yes.” 

JJ sighed in relief, pulling your body closer and delicately placing your hand on her chest. “Then please, let me take you home.” She was desperate. You could hear it in her breaking voice and feel it in the very depths of your soul. 

“Okay.” 

—

“Jennifer,” you began cooly, trying not to fidget in the passenger seat. “I need you to tell me what happened. Please.”

A small squeak came from your left–stiff leather strangled by sweaty palms. You looked over to see JJ’s knuckles white, her arms shook, and her jaw lined by silent fury. 

When your request was not sated, and you were forced to sit quietly for another two minutes, feeling more and more like a scorned child, you were about to ask again. The blonde, however, beat you to it, finally finding her voice. 

“The son of a bitch drink tried to put something in your drink,” JJ spoke with liquid fire, the words cutting at her throat till the final syllable came out broken and choked. 

“Oh.” Your stomach dropped. The horror stories you’d heard, the news articles you’d read, none of them could have prepared you for the intense sickness that filled your stomach at the prospect of ever… 

“There's no chance it was a multivitamin tablet?” you tried to joke, already feeling a familiar coldness creep up against the back of your eyelids. JJ only huffed, clearly finding no humour in the events that had come to pass. 

“Thank you,” you whispered. 

You spent the rest of the drive in silence, JJ focusing on the road and you focusing on the lights swimming through your bleary vision, too afraid to say any more lest the welding tears in your eyes find their way to freedom.

For years, you’d learned to look after yourself. No one had your back like you did. On a night out, you watched never to drink too much so you could get yourself home in one piece without burdening anyone. If you found your fridge empty and cupboards sparse, you’d haul yourself to the supermarket and trek back home carting heavy backs in your hands with zero complaints. When you felt like the world was on your shoulders and even the slightest thing would throw you off balance, you’d hide away and recuperate till you were sure the melancholy had evaporated and soaked into the sheets you’d finally found the energy to throw into the washing machine. 

Then you met JJ. 

Over five years, she crept into your life and carved away the belief that you had to do everything alone. You hadn't realised, but sitting in her car, she had saved you not just from a night that could have ended very badly but from yourself. 

When you went out, she would watch over you, dance with you, and encourage you to indulge because, by the end of the night, she would find you safe passage home. By the time you’d reach home, there would always be a text waiting to confirm you got in, and if left unanswered, a call would shrill through the silence, and her voice would turn from worried to calm at the reassurances you'd offer. 

Often, JJ would mention the sad sight of your fridge by the end of the week, the one to whip her phone out and compile a list you’d both visit in the grocery store after she’d convinced you to let her drive you. However, you were proud that she had only managed to trick you into letting her pay a handful of times. 

“I get paid more than you,” she’d say, or, “I’m going to eat some of this stuff, too.”

To which your comebacks were, “And I’m smart about how I spend.” or “I only buy vegetables to make myself feel good. If you didn’t eat the healthy crap, it’d go bad, so technically, you’re doing me a favour.” 

You still shut the world out when life got tough. The only difference now was that JJ seemed to always find a key. You wouldn’t cry nearly as much when she stayed quiet beside you on the couch, eating from your favourite bowl (that you refused to share with anybody else), content to watch your comfort films for the umpteenth time. 

You didn’t want to lose that. You couldn’t lose her. Ever. 

The landscape outside was dark, and it took you a second to realise JJ was pulling into the parking lot to your apartment. Something inside you, call it survival instinct or weakness, recoiled at the image of a sad, lonely girl withering away piece by piece with each lonesome stride she took through the halls of her once warm home. You didn’t want to be her. Not again. Not when you’d fought tooth and nail to abstain from falling back into the trap of facile gloom. 

You really shouldn’t. It was late, and you were emotional. The words slip out. “Can you stay?” you asked, reaching to twine your fingers through JJ’s. “I don’t want to be alone right now.” 

Her eyes showed no doubt when she immediately nodded and held tight to your hand. 

“Always.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. 

It was hard to look away from her, harder to remind yourself she was not fluent in the language your gaze spoke. The hardest part was to pry yourself away from JJ’s pillowed touch and exit the car. 

As it always was with JJ, you didn’t have to wait long before she was attempting to alleviate some of your distress. Fingers trailed up your palm and clamped around the divot of your thumb as you climbed the steps to your apartment, JJ close by your side. The sound of your footsteps echoing filled the silence of the drafty stairwell, sound waves vibrating off the walls and fading down, down and down till you reached the second floor and hastily made your way to the haven that was home. 

With shaky hands, you reached for the keys in your bag. There was no need, however. JJ already had the spare wedged in the lock, turning the mechanism till you heard that satisfying click. 

When you stepped inside—your company hot on your tail—no warmth greeted you. You did not suddenly feel safer or any less stained from the events of the evening. You felt empty, numb, and tired. Not the physical tired, the one you could sleep off; it was the type of exhaustion that burrowed deep into a person's bones, deep into their minds, till even the easiest of tasks became an unwinnable battle. 

You stood, unmoving, staring at a lone droplet of water hanging precariously off the kitchen faucet. 

“You should take a shower and get into something more comfortable.” You heard JJ say from behind you. Her voice was as cautious as the small steps she took towards you. “You’re probably still in shock.” 

The frayed string you were hanging on by snapped. 

“Don’t treat me like a victim,” you coldly retorted, keeping your back to the blonde. 

“I’m not.” 

You scoffed at the blatant lie. 

“I’m treating you like a person I,” she clipped her mouth shut, taking a moment to breathe in and out through her nose. “Like a person I consider my closest friend.” 

Friend. The word should not have stung. It was, after all, the truth. 

“Fine,” you sighed. Too tired to process any more of the hurt the night might bring, you walked straight to the bathroom and locked the door. 

By the time you finished showering, feeling no less clean than when you entered, your skin was raw and red from the combination of scolding water and the force you used to press the shower cloth against your flesh. The tenderised meat of your limbs should have pained you. It should have left you feeling as agonised as a skinned animal. Instead, you felt nothing. 

Standing in the doorway, donned in an oversized sleep shirt and underwear, one step away from the open corridor leading to the kitchen and modest longue, a tear tumbled down your face. One became two, and two became many. In a matter of a few seconds, you were openly weeping, dropping to the damp floor and burying your head between your bent knees. 

Your sobs ripped at your throat. As much as you wanted to stop, you couldn’t. The anguish kept coming in mammoth waves, wracking your body from head to toe, crushing your ribs and suffocating your lungs. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I’m sorry.” 

Over and over. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’

You vaguely registered ruffling from the longue, the dull thud of scurried footsteps. 

You couldn’t separate yourself from the pain. It was all-compassing, surrounding you like a violent tempest, blurring all of your senses till all you saw was a world awash in grey. 

You didn’t look up when you felt JJ near. You couldn’t. Your neck was icily stiff, and though your eyes were strained from staring at the empty space between your feet, nothing was left in you to force them elsewhere. 

When JJ positioned herself behind you, you couldn’t help but collapse against her sturdy chest. You were so far detached from reality that you could only hope her body would be the tether to something tangible. 

“I’m so sorry.” Your apology came out broken and winded. 

“You have nothing to apologise for,” she cooed, turning your body to the side. She lifted your knees over her thigh as she cradled you in her arms and rested her chin on your partially damp hair. 

“I was a bitch,” you sniffled, nuzzling into the crook of her neck.

“After what almost happened tonight, you think I care about a little sass?” JJ chuckled, pulling you from under her and holding your face between her palms. “You’re stubborn and hardheaded,” she whispered, tucking a dangling strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re also strong as hell.”

 “JJ, you don’t have to-”

“Let me finish.” She pinched your chin between her fingers and thumb, intent on keeping your gaze unwavering. “You’re probably one of the few people who is even worse at asking for help than I am. But tonight, you asked me to stay, and that’s what I will do.” Her eyes were resolute. “Even if I have to be your metaphorical punching bag, even if I have to be a pillow for you to cry on, hell, even if you want me to be a fly on the wall, I'll do it. I’ll do whatever you need, be whatever you need me to be.”

The unshed tears in your eyes were forming for entirely different reasons now. 

This wasn’t what you had with JJ. Maybe it was a couple of years ago or even six months ago when her embrace wouldn’t turn you to liquid. Absently, you noted you missed the times when her smirk would send butterflies to your stomach and turn you shy, not splash the blank canvas of your mind with explicit memories. You missed the times when she could say or do anything, and the worst outcome would be a little blossom of hope in you would decay. 

Now, hearing everything you ever wanted, having her in such an intimate way, was unbearable. It’d been what you’d dreamed of for so long., Or so you thought. Whatever this was between you and JJ was a far cry from what you wanted.

Thinking about the obscure nature of your relationship never helped settle the uproar of unpleasant emotions, and it certainly wouldn’t help rid you of the agonising feelings you were experiencing then. You couldn’t do this to yourself, not at that moment. It was time to be selfish and find use in the turmoil of heartbreak when it could be used to combat the blight of nothingness weighing heavy on your body and mind. 

You didn’t think twice about it. Surging forward, you wrapped a hand around JJ’s neck and pulled her to your lips. 

You could tell she was hesitant at first. Her kisses remained unrushed, and her hands were stock-still on your face and waist. But what she held back, you gave, licking into the seam of her mouth as you rose to bracket her thighs with your knees. 

The only material between your cunt and the rough denim of JJ’s jeans was your boyish cotton underwear, making it all too easy to grind down and find something other than anguish you could finally feel–pleasure. 

“Are you sure?” JJ broke away to ask, concern intricately sewn into the furrow of her brow. 

“Please.” You sounded small, even to yourself and surely to JJ also. Unsurity was not something you needed to bring into the fold. “I need you,” you said, not a single ounce of apprehension in your voice. 

There was a risk to this, and both you and JJ knew it. You knew it as you pressed her fingers against the squishy jut of your tummy. You knew it as you guided her hand to the waistband of your panties, down, down and down. You ignored it as she took over and lowered her touch into your slit. 

“I need you to touch me,” you pleaded. 

She closed her eyes, flexing her arm around your waist. Releasing a heavy breath, she asked, “Where?”

As though that was even a question. 

“Everywhere.”

On her next breath, JJ wriggled her digits into the tight space between cotton and heated flesh, taking your slick over her fingertips and diligently distributing it. She moved unhurried, feeling you quiver with each uptick motion, never quite reaching the bundle of nerves that lay at the apex of your cunt. 

Ordinarily, you might have minded the languish that accompanied every stroke, belligerently angled your hips back to right JJ’s touch. That night, you came to appreciate it. Each imparted touch warmed your belly and filled you with a sense of calm one might find standing at a cliff edge, watching a world move through parted clouds and finally learning what it is to breathe a fresh breath of air. 

The seconds ticked by, and soon, you found yourself growing overly wet from the teasing and testing. Your desire soon became unignorable, trickling down JJ’s wrist and the side of your stretched panties. Ready for more but not desperate enough to beg, you set free a whine as your walls constricted and clenched around nothing. 

A hint like that did not go unnoticed. Not with a sharp mind on the receiving end. The blonde bent a knuckle and slipped a single finger inside you, prolonging the subtle bliss with three shallow thrusts that all ended with the sharp shock of your sweet spot being hit. 

Her balmy lips drew you in, kissing you soundly to swallow up the meek sounds spilling out of your agape mouth, and whilst successful in shushing you, nothing JJ was doing aided in quieting the cyclone looming large in your belly. You felt her, seated deep within you, exercising restraint with each curl and swirl of her finger. 

Time turned fickle, the progression from one digit to two lumbering, but it was a losing battle to fight against what you knew you needed and, by extension, what JJ additionally knew. Her holding back wasn’t jarring or vexing. Her actions were nurturing and diligent, ensuring that when the time came for her to slip more of herself inside you, pumping gently, you were present and pliant, able to acquaint yourself with every barrel of dynamite that exploded within your body. 

The cacophony of whimpers, moans, and cries ricocheted off your apartment walls, mixed with JJ’s racing breaths, creating a chorus to the harmonious soundscape that swallowed the noise of your mind. She was a musician, a maestro, and you were her muse. The undulating thud of your blood racing, pounding against your chest and racing in your ears, was a metronome, garnering speed with every pulse till it surpassed the speed of JJ’s timely strikes. 

She brushed the pad of her thumb over your clit, pulling away to watch your feature contort and your resolve crumble with a broken cry. 

“I know, baby,” JJ whispered, her breath warm against your chin, then hot against the centre of your throat, kissing, nibbling and sucking a linear path to where you felt your pulse strongest. 

Biting your nails into the fabric of JJ’s shirt, you rode her fingers, grinding back and forth till the dull ache of floorboards biting at your knees was non-existent compared to the crescendo leading to your peak. She met every shift of your hips with a flick of her wrist, keeping you steady with her hand on your waist as she found that rough patch of flesh and latched onto it with persistent taps. 

The light show obscuring your vision was blinding, forcing your eyes tightly shut. Trickling warmth surging from your belly that was once lulling and light transformed into a fierce, fiery beast spewing lava directly into your bloodstream. 

You snapped a hand to the back of JJ’s head, on the precipice of breaking, intent to only do so with her swallowing your rapture. It was not graceful or particularly pretty when you dragged JJ to you, teeth clawing at her lips, tongue unabashedly seeking passage into the opening of her mouth. It was primitive and carnal. It was the last stepping stone to euphoria. 

You shattered, shaking, swearing with the slide of your tongue against JJ’s you wouldn’t let a day pass where you didn’t think of this moment and how she could make you feel so whole by breaking you apart. 

You held yourself up for as long as possible, fighting a losing battle against the tremors wracking through your legs, torso and chest, if only to live in the slow kiss between you and JJ a little longer. She was a sip of whiskey after a long day, smoky in your throat, heavy in your chest and hot deep in the crux of your gut, the perfect medium between keeping one's senses addled and delivering a gentle kick hard enough to keep you in the now. Eventually, when your head was too heavy to hold, you unburdened yourself onto JJ.  

Beyond the stars dancing in the black of your vision, you rewrote the evening. It was not a man cast in shadows that greeted you at the bar; it was the woman whose hand was now caressing the back of your neck, her fingers still inside your twitching walls, curling and unfurling to prolong the aftermath of your orgasm. She’d approach you, trailing in the smell of roses and the carefree aroma of an autumn breeze, before leaning down to greet you properly with a chaste kiss. You would crave nothing more than that because, in this world, you had everything you ever needed. 

She’d talk, and you’d listen. Stories recounted about her day would drown out the hum of nearby chatter, the constant clattering of glasses placed down on tables and ice shaken over the bar would all fade to nothing as you’d be transported to a briefing room, a crime scene or even a desk where you could vividly picture JJ hunched over paperwork huffing, puffing and sighing. 

She’d sneak you off into the bathroom and kiss you again. The desperation of her glueing you to the counter, needing to find a way to get you away, would be absent. She’d push up against you because it was what she solely desired. The excitement of knowing she would return home with you no matter what the night brought was the only reason her hands never found one place on your body to settle. 

You’d steal glances and touches in the car, giddy like two children, knowing they were misbehaving. Impatient upon arrival to your apartment, she’d take your hand, sprint through door after door, dragging you behind her up the stairs with little else other than your naked form on her mind. She’d pull out her key, not the spare, her key, and pull you through the gates of heaven. She’d pull you home. 

Startled out of your stupor by the light tap on your thigh, you straightened your spine and rose your head to see JJ offering you a light smile. Her eyes fixed on the corridor over your shoulder, sliding to the right where the head of your couch peeked into sight. It was like a thunderbolt of realisation hit you; you could feel the pins and needles running through her legs. Having to hold you up for the better part of your little pick-me-up session, her position on the wonky bathroom tiles could have been better. 

“Oh!” you exclaimed, scrambling to rise to your feet and extending your hands out to help JJ up. “Sorry, I know I’m not exactly light.” 

There was a slight chance you had underestimated JJ’s ability to withstand such a cramped position. As soon as she was up, your hands were wound over her shoulders, and your legs swept from the floor to be wrapped around her hips. 

“JJ!” You squealed.

She silenced you with a stern ‘shh’ and, with little effort, walked the both of you through the narrow corridor. The gesture was far too domestic, especially when you cosied your nose to the side of her throat and breathed her in. 

—

Two hours later, when JJ had fallen asleep against the back of the couch with one hand snaked under your shirt resting on your belly and the other under your head, did you begin to grasp the severity of what had occurred. 

Somewhere along the line, you’d let your feelings bleed into logic, let fantasy pollute your senses till it was too late, and you’d stupidly begged JJ to take you when you were open and vulnerable. Maybe it was when she kissed you in the bathroom. Or in the car when you recounted everything she’d done for you to bring you out of your shell. Perhaps it was when she proved, once again, that she’d always protect and stand by you. 

Whatever it was, it was a mistake to give in. It meant ruination. 

It wasn’t a feat to stand above the sofa and admire the sleeping angel whose hand now inhabited the space you once filled, pick out each indentation on her soft cheek and match the patterns to the offending ruffled pillow case under JJ’s head. It felt like your very own game of Spot the Difference. A thought struck you then–had anyone else played this game? Did anyone else lie awake beside the blonde and map the invisible borders between each mole on her back? Did they receive stolen kisses in restaurant bathrooms, and if they did, did they hold as much weight as they did to a love-sick puppy like yourself? Were they reliant on the night to bring them to JJ, or were they good enough to have her whenever? For JJ to want them in ways she’d never want you? 

It hurt to breathe. It hurt to walk away and shut the door on the person whom you loved. It hurt to close your swollen eyes to the blistering image of JJ in bed with somebody else. You found yourself doing all these things anyway. 

Taglist: @sincerestlove @hot4milfs @chestnutninny @theoneforhobbies @lez-talk1 @obsessedwjill @wastdstime @hopelesslyfallenninlove @luna7-7 @fanficreadinglesbian @ara-a-bird @blueredg52 @blkmxrvel @allofphii @coffee-is-my-oxygen @marinawolf @blkmxrvel @iheartdilfssss @spencerreidgubler @spencerreidsknee | Click here to be added to the series taglist

[jjsfavgirl]

NSFW alphabet • j.maybank

Enjoy this!!

Warnings: p in v sex , oral m and f receiving , shower sex , dirty talk , fingering , aftercare , corruption kink , sex toys , dom! JJ , sub! JJ , dom! Reader , Sub! Reader , eating cum , oral fixation, size kink , smoking weed , mentions of UTI , male masturbation , talk of erections? , teasing , quickies.

18+

-

A- after care | JJ is BIG on taking care of you after you have sex, because of how rough he is afterwards he’s a big softie. Lets you wear his shirts, even sits with you in the bathroom checking on your while u pee as to avoid a UTI, he’ll then carry you back to bed place a kiss on your forehead then cuddle you till you both fall asleep.

B- body part | as much as he loves your personality my man is an ass man at heart, always squeezing your ass while you’re bouncing up and down on his cock, giving it it firm slap whenever you are just existing in your house. He always gives you his smaller boxers just so he can see your plump bum cheeks sneak through the bottom.

C- cum | my man cums HARD. Especially if he doesn’t masturbate for a while his white liquid comes out in strings after strings. He makes many jokes about being a proclaimed “artist” after he’s covered 90% of your body in his seed. Your face, your tits, your stomach,your ass, your thighs.

D- dick | JJ is fucking hung, he always thought he was average due to all the porn he’s watched. But when you first fooled around at the château, you were on your knees in front off JJ as he was man spread on John B’s couch when he quickly fumbled to open his belt and slide down his long cargo shorts which caused his large hard length to spring out of his boxers. He loves the thought of his big dick pressing against all the walls in your cervix , doing the stomach trick just to see him tip above your belly button.

E- experience | he had slept with quite a few girls before he met you, but once he did he stopped fooling around with girls out of respect in case you one day felt the same. He has experience on the sex side of things but he lacked the emotional connection with most his previous partners so when he met you he almost cried the first time you had sex. ( my poor touch starved baby ).

F- favourite position | he doesn’t understand all the really intricate positions he just thinks fucking is fucking and you don’t need to be mid twister match in order to have an orgasm. His favourite position is simple, you laying in his bed, his hands beside your head as he plowed into you from above, looking down at your orgasm face in awe.

G- goofy | his highness depends on how silly he is during sex. If he’s high he’ll be laughing and smiling the whole way through, it’s ten times worse if you’re both high, it’s just a laughing mess. But both fully sober and not in an intoxicated state he’s more serious.

H- hair | he has never once dared to try shave down there. Out of fear he might slice off his dick and also how much you begged him not to whenever he randomly brought up the subject of even trimming his pubes.

I- intimacy | the way he shows his intimacy during the act is with his words. He’s very vocal during sex. Doing so well for me baby , you can take it I know you can , c’mon princess cum for me , you’re so beautiful , m’fuck love this pussy.

J- Jack off | he is just as feral with masturbating as he is with sex, he’s cut down on his masturbation since you started dating ( always being able to have you get rid of his erections ). However, before you were dating my man would have to run back into the château bathroom after a day of watching you play volleyball with the other pogues in your tight pink bikini as your tits bounced around and almost slipped out every time you ran over to JJ in order to high five him.

K- kink | he isn’t the most kinky person ever, but he loves the thought of completely ruining you (corruption kink I think this is ) . If you’re a good girl kook he’ll love plowing into you and reminding you what your family would think about their A+ perfect daughter getting fucked rough by a dirty pogue.

L- location | he is a mostly bed sex guy. He doesn’t want to get caught or let anyone else see you in the orgasmic state that’s only for his bright blue eyes to see.But he loves surprising you by jumping into the shower with you, lathering your tits up with soap as he blows his load into your from behind.

M- motivation | he’s mostly turned on by just you in general. Your whole being makes him hard. But his main thing is kind of weird. It’s you being nice. If you smile brightly at him my man is bricked up immediately, or if your having a conversation with the bar tender as they’re making yours and his drinks he’ll watch your face intently as you smiled and laughed with the girl across from you ( if it’s a man it’s a different story ).

O- oral | as much as he loves getting his dick sucked, his favourite thing ever is pleasing his girl. He’s always eating you out, every spare second he has his tongue is exploring your folds as his finger enters your dripping hole. His tongue will flick and suck your clit as his fingers will brush against your gooey g-spot. ( he will also know that you have a massive oral fixation and will always bight his biceps whenever he’s wearing a short sleeved shirt or no shirt at all.)

P- pace | usually his pace varies during sex depending on the type of sex , sometimes he’ll be rough and fast and quickly overstimulate you enjoying watching you squirm but the other time he’ll be slow, allowing you to fully adjust to his size and stretching your walls, he will talk you through it and place kisses all over your face every time he lent down to your face.

Q- quickie | no matter how rough and fast he is, JJ isn’t the biggest fan of quickies, of course he will fuck your quickly in your pink bikini before going on a boat trip with the pogues but he prefers sex sensual and slow.

R- can’t think of one :( the prompt I’m using says risk for R but I can’t think of any I’m sorry guys :)

S- stamina | my man is fucking energetic , never once stopping to take a break during sex or take a breath while eating your pussy. But the second you both pull back, chests heaving up and down and heavy breaths filling the room he’s out like a light, falling asleep immediately or being stuck in a fucked haze.

T- toys | JJ doesn’t own any toys for himself but enjoys using your own toys on you. He’s not into the whole BDSM thing but he’s willing to use your vibrator and dildos on you so he can watch you in overstimulated pleasure.

U- unfair | JJ fucking Maybank is the biggest tease known to man. He will tease you from the second you get on the HMS Pogue. Hand on your thigh which inches closer to the hem of your bikini, pulling you into his lap and gripping your bare hips with his ringed fingers and lightly rubbing you against his hard erection.

V- volume | he’ll always try and match your volume, if your quiet, he’s gunna be quiet. But, he will always be talking you through it . M’Doing so good f’me baby , taking me so well , this pussy was made for me.

W- wild card | a random head cannon: he always tells John B and Pope that he’s the dominant one always. Which is pro dominantly true. Sometimes . Sometimes he’ll crumble under your touch as you’re overstimulating the poor boy by grinding forwards and backwards on his long length as it hits all the right places inside you, his hair was soaked in sweat at the tips as his ringed hands cling tightly to your bare hips, moving you in all the place he wanted causing his head to tilt back in pure ecstasy.

X- X-ray | under his clothes (we’ve all seen in obx cmon my mansey is fine) he has very tough muscular arms, his abs are formed into a perfect six pack which makes you drool every time he’s on top of you thrusting into you while you whine and beg for more.

Y- yearning | luckily for JJ he was blessed with a girlfriend with just the same sex drive as him. Let me just say for the first month of your relationship all you and JJ wanted was to be with each other inside all day, every day. Let’s just say you still go at it like rabbits and nothing has changed.

Z- zzzz | after sex, JJ’s eyes will to shut but he knows that he has to take care of his princess first, cleaning up his left overs from between her thighs, placing a soothing kiss on her still sweaty forehead before carrying her to the toilet for her after-sex-piss before carrying her back to bed and tossing one of his weed smelling shirts over her head with a smile.

Enjoy!!!

[echobx]

Twin Flame 3 - pervy!bsf!JJ Maybank × pervy!bsf!fem!reader

summary: y/n is hurt and JJ isn't planning on being the bigger person either

word count: 2.3k

warnings: talk about feelings, JJ and y/n lying to themselves and their friends, smut, oral (fem receiving), outdoor

author's note: while writing I thought this was the last part and then suddenly I was at 2k again and thought to myself, just cut here and write another one so that's what I'm doing. apparently writing without a plan works better than writing with a plan.

series masterlist ♡ part 1 ♡ part 2

   “Shit, you look horrible,” Kie said as you showed up for your shift at the Wreck. 

   “Didn't sleep,” you mumbled while wrapping the apron around your hips. After what JJ had done, you had first cried for about an hour, trying to reconcile with your conflicting feelings towards him. Then you had cleaned yourself up and driven to the one 24-hours store out of town that had a pharmacy, getting Plan B just in case, because you weren't a hundred percent sure that you had always taken the pill on time. A kid would ruin your future at this point. JJ’s kid, maybe even more so. He would resent you for it, probably, just as you would him. 

   “Think you can manage, or want me to cover for you?” Kie suggested, but you shook your head. You desperately needed the distraction the job provided. 

   So, that's what you did for the following week, picking up every shift the Carreras allowed you to, and afterward you went straight home. Not to the Chat. And especially not to JJ. 

   “Okay, seriously now, what the fuck is up with you?” Kie pulled you to the side one evening, and you shrugged. 

   “I don't know what you mean?” 

   “You're avoiding us, all of us. Why?” she stared at you. 

   “I have shit on my plate, work and-” you tried to find an excuse, but you couldn't tell her the truth. 

   “And?”

   “It doesn't matter. Why do you care?” 

   “Because I'm your friend, dummy,” Kiara tapped against your head repeatedly. 

   “Ouch. And maybe I just don't want to get shitfaced every other night,” you mumbled, wanting to walk off, but her hand was still firm around your biceps. 

   “Bullshit.” 

   “Fine. I don't wanna see JJ. Are you happy now?” you hissed, and she furrowed her brows. 

   “Why? That makes no sense. The two of you are like conjoined twins.” 

   “I don't want to talk about it. Just let it go, Kie.” You ripped your arm from her hold and continued working. 

   At the Château, JJ had to deal with similar inquiries. 

   “Kie just texted,” John B sighed, running his hand over his face exasperatedly. “Wanna explain to me why y/n says that you're at fault for her not coming by for over a week?” 

   “How would I know? Women are a mystery,” JJ rolled his eyes and continued smoking. 

   “For someone who's usually the best at lying, you're doing a fucking shit job right now,” John B scoffed. 

   “What? You want me to tell you my deepest, darkest secrets?” JJ leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees. “Want me to tell you that she begged me to fuck her, and now she's acting like a whiny bitch about it? Want that truth?” 

   “No, I want the real truth. We both know she'd never do that,” JB laughed, trying to lighten the mood, and JJ decided to play the innocent. 

   “Of course she wouldn't, little miss perfect.” 

   “What if you just went and apologized for whatever you did?” John B proposed and JJ leaned back again.

“What if… what if… what if, I just sat here and forgot all about it? How about that?” 

   “That won't bring her back,” his best friend sighed. 

   “And what makes you think I'd want her back?” JJ was lying to himself. The lack of contact was gnawing at his heart strings. He knew he wouldn't hold out much longer without seeing you, but he also didn't want to be the one to cave. 

   “I don't know, maybe the fact that you love her? She's like a sister to the both of us.” 

   “A sister would never do the shit y/n did to me,” JJ thought to himself, but he kept quiet. 

   Two days later you decided to go visit your favorite place on the island, a small lagoon, a hidden gem that only the deep locals knew about. But only JJ knew how important the spot was to you, so it didn't entirely surprise you when you found him there, lying on the big rock in the sun like a gator waiting for its prey. 

   “And I had hoped you'd died,” you joked, and he turned his head to look at you. “You owe me fifty, asshole.” 

   “Since when?” JJ smirked, the tone of your voice was far from angry, and the spark in your eyes was neither mad nor anxious.

   “Since I had to buy Plan B because you don't know what a condom looks like,” you rolled your eyes and placed your towel on the sandy ground. 

   “Fine,” he exhaled and turned back to looking up at the sky. 

   “Everyone's annoying me about not being at the Chat every free minute of my shitty life,” you groaned, and JJ had to laugh. 

   “Everyone's annoying me because you aren't at the Chat every free minute of your shitty life.” 

   “Haha, funny,” you mocked. 

   “JB asked why you weren't coming by, I told him the truth, and he told me to stop lying, so there's that,” JJ sighed, and you looked at him in shock. 

   “Why would you tell him at all?” 

   “Chill, he didn't believe me. Why would anyone? Hell, I wouldn't even believe it myself.” 

   “Why?” 

   “He said you were like a sister to the both of us,” JJ huffed. “True brotherly love, then. Straight out of that medieval dragon show.” 

   “Game of Thrones?” you cocked your brow. 

   “Yeah, that shit.”

   “We aren't related, though, JJ. It's nothing like that, at all,” you remind him. 

   “Still fucked up. I mean, I watched you grow boobs, basically,” he muttered. 

   “Way to make it weird,” you rolled your eyes at him and finally took your seat on the towel. 

   “Was weird before it started, remember?” His eyes were fixed on you. 

   “Do you regret it?” you posed without thinking much about the question until it has slipped out. 

   “Should I? Do you?” His eyes traced your face, and you looked away, out onto the sound and trying to remember if it truly had been easier before, or if nostalgia was playing a trick on you. 

   “I'm not sure. I mean, I do like the way you kiss,” you smiled, more to yourself than to please him. 

   “Of course you do. You taught me. Remember?” JJ chuckled. “I still don't know where you knew that from. You hadn't even kissed anyone yet.”

   “There's a lot of things I know of, although I haven't gotten to try them yet,” you smirked and he sat up. 

   “Like what?” 

   “Love.” You didn't know why that nasty word had slipped out, but now it was hanging over you, and you hated it. 

   “Hmm, yeah, makes sense,” JJ nodded and jumped down from the stone, sitting down next to you, and you let your head fall to his shoulder. 

   “I’m sorry for how mean I was last week,” you whispered, and he held his hand out for you to take, intertwining your fingers as you did. 

   “I'm sorry for not having a condom, and for being an asshole who didn't let you come, although that technically was a punishment. And for running out like I did,” he apologized, and you felt like it was easier to breathe again. 

   “We're pretty fucked up, aren't we?” 

   “Seems like it. Yeah,” he said before exhaling a short laugh. 

   “What's so funny?” you asked, and he turned to face you, holding your face in his hands. 

   “You,” his eyes jumped between your own, trying to find a place to settle, but he couldn't seem to find it. “I mean, they expect me to be the weird creepy fucker, and they're not wrong. But who would've expected that you're worse than me.” 

   “Not worse. Equally, shit,” you reminded him quietly. “Made from the same bullshit material.” 

   “You got that high quality shit, though.”

   “Oh yeah?” 

   “Yeah. Parents, and that ass? Can't complain at all,” JJ smirked, and you swatted at his arm. “What? It's true.” 

   “My parents aren't even that good.” 

   “That’s what you're focusing on?” he huffed a laugh. 

   You leaned towards him and whispered, “I know that my ass is immaculate, Maybank.” 

   His lips were pressed to yours quicker than you could've said your own name, and you sighed into it. The feeling of his soft, warm lips against your own was one of your favorite feelings ever. Your whole body felt aflame under his touch, hands groping at your tits before he made you lie down underneath him, pressing himself between your thighs. 

   “J,” you moaned as his lips traveled down your neck. 

   “Gotta make it up to you, don’i?” he smirked and you nodded. It was a little messy when he helped you rid yourself of your clothes, leaving you completely naked and him still fully clothed. 

   “Fuck, you're gorgeous,” JJ groaned, his hands roaming over your body as if it was the holy grail. He squeezed your tits, and your back arched up in response, a gasp leaving you that was matched by his teasing chuckle. 

   “You know, princess, I'm just not that good with words ‘cause my tongue was made for other things,” he told you and a second later he was eating you out like his last meal. 

   JJ licked a long stripe up your wet cunt, humming at the taste. He wasn't thinking too much about what exactly he was doing, and just followed his instincts. Sucking on your clit until you screamed his name, digging his fingers into your thighs while his tongue thrusted into you. You were a mess because of him. You were his mess. 

   “Oh God,” you cried out, the knot in your stomach tightening. You didn't think of telling him that no one had ever done this to you, made you feel complete ecstasy with the simple use of their tongue. He wouldn't need to know, you knew it would just boost his already massive ego. 

   “Gonna be a good girl and come for me, baby?” JJ smiled up at you, and you nodded rapidly. 

   “Make me come, J,” you whined, and he dipped his head again. And JJ didn't think much about it when he pushed his fingers into your aching cunt, curling them up repeatedly while his lips were closed around your clit. He was drunk on you; your taste, your moans, the way your body reacted to every little touch of his. Feeling you clench around his fingers was probably one of the better things in his life. But tasting your release jumped straight to no.1, and if you’d let him, he'd do it every day and night. 

   He kept his fingers buried inside you until you had fully come down from your high. “You good?” he smirked and you nodded. 

   “Can I get up?” you whispered, and he pulled away, sitting up and watching you pull your shit back on as if you were embarrassed about it. 

   “Everything’s like normal again?” he asked after having licked his fingers clean. 

   “I don't know,” you shook your head. It wasn't like you didn't want to go back to before the tiny disagreement, but with everything the two of you did, you gained more clarity. 

   “So, you didn't want this to happen just now? ‘Cause this is all confusing, all right,” JJ sighed and shook his head. 

   “No, I did. It's just not the same anymore. What if you meet someone, and you fall in love, and then we have to go back to just being friends. Could you do that?” you posed, and he didn't know what to answer, so he hit you back with a question of his own. 

   “What if you fall in love?”

   “I don't even know what love is, JJ. How am I supposed to know what it feels like to fall in love,” you snorted at how funny his question was to you. 

   “I don't know,” he sighed, looking down at his hands. He had never been very touchy-feely, with no one, not even you. And yet you were always the only one allowed to do more to him than anyone else in his life. He let you cut his hair, let you tend to his injuries back when Luke had been around. He told you more than he did John B, but he knew he loved John B like a brother, just like he did Pope, like he loved Sarah and Kie and Cleo, and you. But not really. 

   “Is it, like, different from when you love your siblings? Like, do you think it feels different from the way I feel about JB and all of them?” JJ asked quietly, but you didn't know what to reply. 

   “Maybe we should ask him, he should know, right? About what it feels like, at least.” 

   “Yeah,” JJ turned to smile at you, fully dressed and looking as if he hadn't just deconstructed your whole being minutes earlier. 

   “What’ya think how long it'll take for that bush in front of your window to grow normal again? Like, there's prolly a big’ol JJ shaped hole in there,” he joked, and you had to laugh. 

  “Are you planning on not using it anymore?” 

  “Hell no. I can just come inside now, right?” he flashed his eyebrows at you and you groaned. 

   “You're not doing that again. I don't want to have to deal with three kids.” 

  “Three?” 

   “You count double,” you laughed, and he faked offense. 

   “Let's be honest, it would probably be easier to have kids with your best friends than to think love lasts. I mean, look at my parents,” JJ huffed after a moment of silence. 

   “Mine are fighting too much recently. I wish they would just say what they think and not talk so much bullshit all the time,” you sighed, and he pulled you closer, his arm over your shoulder. 

   “You know, you can always stay at my place if they get too much.”

   “I know,” you smiled up at him, and he kissed the top of your head.

read part 4 here

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @redhead1180 @spideysimpossiblegirl @drwstarkeyy @princessmaybank @ijustwantttoread @kys4-20 @immyowndefender @julczimozart @m2m2m2 @mochimms @dorkyfangirl24

[hotchreid-cm]

Moment of Weakness (2) / Aaron Hotchner

(He's so pretty)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Reader

Summary: The aftermath to the incident in Hotch's office.

Warnings: Typical Criminal minds topics (bombings), rushed and not proofread. Not really a happy ending...

A/N: I wrote a part 2 since so many wonderful people asked. Not sure if I liked it and I got too carried away, oops!

(Read Part 1 Here)

After the incident in Hotch's office you weren't sure that you could face the man again. You felt like you only made his situation worse, which was never your intention.

You had just got caught up in the moment. You had had a crush on Hotch just after your third case with the team. It had taken a toll on you and Hotch offered to drive you home.

And when he parked outside, you just sat there, taking more of his time but he didn't care. He talked to you for what felt like ages, about the case, the team, Jack and Haley...and the crush steadily turned into a quiet pining.

You kept it to yourself of course. You never told anyone, and you obviously did a great job of hiding it because no one suspected a thing. Not even Hotch, which killed you but you'd never ruin a family like that.

You heard how he spoke of Haley and Jack that night over a year ago now and if anything, you were happy that he was happy. Until his confession in his office last night.

JJ pulls you out of your thoughts, "we've got a case. Two bombings in the last 24 hours. We're leaving in 10 minutes, we'll debrief on the jet."

You take the file from her and look it over before grabbing your go bag and heading for the jet.

You were the last but one on which made you frown, "where's Hotch?"

Rossi looked over to you, "personal day. He'll meet us there when he can."

You didn't hear much after that. Your thoughts racing with all sorts of possibilities and hoping none of it was because of you. The guilt sitting in your stomach like a stone.

By the time Hotch caught up to the team, you were all gathered in the precinct talking to Garcia.

Everyone paused the conversation to fill Hotch in. The thinking was a high school student getting revenge. There was at least one victim from every explosion linked to the same school. The others just got caught in the crossfire.

"If that's the case then we need to talk to the parents and close friends of the ones who died and see if anyone had a grudge against them", Hotch says.

"I'll go back to the Denvers and talk to them since I've only just left. They had a son die in the second explosion and the brother may know something. " You jump in straight after Hotch, eager to go back to the family you were trying to help through this.

He shakes his head, "no, you stay here with Reid and try and figure out where he might strike next. Prentiss and Morgan go to the Jason's. Rossi and I will go to the Denvers while JJ handles the media coverage."

Everyone springs into action but you step forward, "you're benching me?"

Hotch turns back to you sharply, "stay here and work the profile with Reid."

"I'm the one that should talk to the Denvers, I've already built rapport" your voice rising.

"Stay here at the station with Reid. That's an order." Hotch turns away and stalks out the office with everyone else giving you sympathetic looks on their way out.

You and Reid work the case. Rossi calls not long after they left saying the Denvers were on the way to a memorial service put on for families of the second explosion but they couldn't say whether anyone held a grudge against their son.

Then Morgan calls, "okay, Jessica Lambert said that Danny Denvers is the one that gets picked on the most at school."

You perk up, "wait, Danny? As in, Tommy Denvers brother who died in the explosion?"

"Yeah, and Jessica also said that Tommy would join in on the bullying so that he could fit in."

You look to Reid in horror, "I thought he was so withdrawn because his brother had just died, not because..."

Reid voices the conclusion you just came to, "Danny Denvers is our unsub."

You pull your phone out and dial Hotch on instinct.

"What?" He answers.

And you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, "the Denvers, you said they were going to a memorial service, was Danny going with them?"

"No, they said he wasn't feeling well. Why?"

"Danny Denvers is the unsub. He got bullied at school and even by his own brother, Tommy."

You hear the car spin around as Hotch says, "we'll go back to the house. Tell Morgan and Prentiss to head to the school. Stay at the station."

And he was gone before you could protest.

After telling Morgan where to go, you stare at the board in front of you.

Reid asks, "what's wrong?"

You shrug, "something doesn't feel right. If Danny wanted to blow up the school he could have just gone this morning. Instead he stayed back."

Reid scrunches his nose, "okay, so what's your point?"

You think back to your time at the Denver house and it clicks. You call Garcia, "hello Mr and Mrs Genius, how can I help you?"

"Garcia, the Denvers said they were going to a memorial service today. Can you tell me where it is?"

You hear the typing before she answers, "I just sent the address to your phone."

"Thanks", you say as you rush to grab car keys from the desk.

"Hotch said you had to stay at the station." Reid says, phone already in hand.

"I'm the closest and I'm not going to be benched because Hotch can't get his head out of his ass."

You race to the funeral home, stepping out of the car and scanning the area for any signs of the service amongst the gravestones.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket like its been doing the whole drive here. You answer to Hotch's booming voice, "do not go in without back up or bomb squad."

You shake your head despite him not being able to see, "bomb squad won't get here in time."

You keep scanning as he replies, "I mean it. Don't approach on your own. Danny profiles like a-"

You cut him off as your eyes land on the scene you were looking for, "a suicide bomber."

You see him with a crudely made vest and a trigger in hand as he screams at his parents.

You take off towards them, phone still to your ear as you say, "Hotch. I'm sorry." Hoping he can hear everything you really want to say.

You hang up and draw your gun as you dodge the people fleeing. You call out, "Danny! Remember me? Is it okay if we talk?"

"I don't want to talk to you. I want them to listen." His wild eyes looking to his parents.

"I know they never listened to you. I know they always put Tommy first, even when he was the one bullying you." You step closer to the Denvers, trying to draw his attention away from them.

Tears stream down his face, "I never did anything wrong! Tommy was the one going to parties and staying out past curfew and he was still the favourite!"

"So you decided to teach them all a lesson?"

He looks to you as sirens wail closer and closer, "well someone had to! No one was going to save me from them so I had to do it myself!"

You finally step in front of the Denvers blocking his view, "and I think you taught the lesson well. Now everyone knows."

You see Rossi and Hotch coming towards you as you gesture the Denvers to go towards them.

Danny watches his parents go with surprising calm as you say, "just give me the trigger so you can tell everyone your story."

With eyes still on his parents he mumbles, "they'll never get it."

You hear Hotch call your name as Danny takes his finger off the trigger.

You dive for cover, landing in the 6ft hole meant for the casket. You feel your body slam into the ground, losing consciousness before help arrives.

When you come to, it's mostly a blur. The hospital checked you over and after some arguing, they agreed to let you go as long as you got checked out back home.

The jet ride back was quiet and once it landed everyone went their separate ways. Except Hotch.

"I'd like to drive you home, if I may?" He asks.

You shake your head, "nah, I'm good. I can wait to hear the riot act on Monday."

Hotch places his hand on your forearm so gently you can barely feel it, "please?"

You stare at each other for a few moments until you finally agree.

Once you're on the road Hotch says, "what you did was reckless."

He says it with a soft voice which is somehow so much worse than if he just yelled at you.

You loved his voice, you loved the comfort he exudes even when he's angry but right now you wanted to be anywhere but here.

"Hotch, please..."

But he continues, "and while it was incredibly reckless, I have to say I owe you an apology."

Your mouth pops open as you turn to look at the man behind the wheel.

He sighs, "if I didn't have my head up my ass, I wouldn't have benched you and made you feel the need to run into danger on your own."

You feel heat rise to your cheeks, "you heard that, huh?"

Hotch shrugs, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, "Reid had already dialled my number when you said it."

Silence descends again until he parks up outside your apartment.

"I'm also sorry for the things I've said."

You stare out the window when you reply, "when?"

Hotch parrots your question with more confusion, "when?"

"Which time? You've been a dick to me ever since that night. It took the both of us to make that mistake. And the funny thing is you're not even angry at me, you're angry at yourself and you're taking it out on me and I don't deserve that."

"You're right, you don't. You deserve so much more. I realised that I could have lost you and...I'm not sure I'm ready to look into why that's terrified me so much. And I know I don't have a right to ask this but I would like it if you waited."

You study his profile, not quite understanding what he's going through but wanting to all the same.

He looks to you and the vulnerability you see laid bare in his eyes takes your breath away, "Me and haley are going through a divorce and a part of me will always love her. Things will be messy for a while but I'd like to take you to dinner...maybe when things calm down, if you'll let me?"

You're not really sure what to say. You've wanted Aaron Hotchner to ask you out for a long time. You've wanted him for even longer. But this isn't how you imagined that would go.

You knew things would be complicated with Haley and you knew he'd always love her in some way and it didn't bother you. But the timing of it all made you feel more like a consolation prize than someone he truly wants.

You reach your palm out until it makes contact with his cheek, you thumb stroking the dark circles underneath his eyes.

"I've been in love with you for a long time, Aaron Hotchner. And all I've ever wanted is for you to be happy. And those two things have been in conflict ever since."

His eyes take on a glassy tint as his hand covers your one on his face. He understands what you're saying but you say it anyway.

"I don't think I'm what you need to make that happen right now. And I don't know if I'll ever be that or if I can wait that long for you to figure it out."

You give Hotch a sad smile, dropping your hand and exiting the car. Each step further away from him, makes your chest ache. And you wonder if you'll always carry that ache wherever you go.

A/n: I guess I'm feeling angsty lately but hope you enjoyed all the same!!

[outermaybanks]

just a kiss - part ii - jj x bi!reader x kie aka 3 times you were oblivious and the one time you knew exactly what you wanted - part two to this

a/n: wrote this entire thing while high, no proof reading we die like men, definitely projecting... also i know nothing abt surfing so if it sounds crazy just pretend it doesn't. there's gonna be at least one more part to this. next part

July 5th - the third time.

When you woke up, Kie’s face was nuzzled into your shoulder, and even in your dazy state, the sight made your heart race. You felt a rush of guilt come over you, so you got out of the bed quickly, running to the bathroom to brush your teeth and splash your face with water. But nothing helped, even while splashing cold water on your face, you couldn’t get the image of your kiss with Kie, or your kiss with JJ out of your mind. 

When you met JJ, when he first started working for your dad, you knew he had a girlfriend, so you didn’t let yourself feel attraction towards him. Obviously, when you got to meet Kie for yourself, you did so already knowing she was dating JJ, so again, you didn’t let yourself feel attraction towards her. Now this felt almost like a sick joke. Were they making fun of you? Were they trying to use you for a threesome?

No, you quickly decided. These were your friends. You couldn’t let your anxiety ruin this for you, and until they did something that showed they had ill intentions, you decided to take them at their word, it was just a kiss, right?

When you returned to the living room, Kie was groggily stretching, JJ still fast asleep beside her. “Mmmm good morning, y/n. How’d you sleep?” she asked softly, but her voice was gravelly from her slumber. “Pretty good considering JJ seems to be a bed hogger,” you tease, gesturing to the unconscious blonde beside her. A small giggle fell from her before she got out of the bed. “Oh yeah, big time. Beds, blankets, boy has no concept of personal space… Wanna make breakfast with me?” She offered, making eye contact with you as she walked past to go to the kitchen. You couldn’t help your eyes flickering to look at her ass as you followed behind you, but you quickly looked away.

“I’m thinking… french toast… maybe some eggs,” Kie said as ran a hand through her hair. “Wow, JJ’s a lucky guy,” you reply with a small chuckle, she smiles at you before going into the fridge and pulling out a carton of eggs. 

“Thank god John B has chickens, he always has eggs. Can you make sure there’s bread?” Kie asked, and you were quick on your feet.

“Got the bread,” you reply, bringing it over to her as she set a pan on the stove. She gave you a smile as she took it, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think she was being flirtatious. 

“You ever do this before?” Kie’s voice was soft, but not quiet; gentle. “You kidding me? My dad can’t cook to save his life,” you answer, your tone is light hearted, but Kie gives you a worried look. “And…. your mom?” “Out of the picture. She’s got a new family in Chicago, and I… get to have pizza 3 nights a week,” you joke, and this time Kie smiles. “Can you crack some eggs into this bowl?” Kie asked, handing you a bowl. “That I can manage.”

After you crack a couple eggs in the bowl, you watch Kie pour some milk, then some cinnamon, and lastly she reaches for a small brown bottle. “Vanilla,” Kie explains, dropping some into the bowl. Kie hands you a fork, asking you to stir it up. “Here, watch me,” Kie says as she drops some butter in the pan, moving it around. She took a piece of bread, dipped both sides into the bowl, then dropped it into the pan. “See? Not that hard. Now you’ll know how to make french toast,” her tone isn’t judgemental, she genuinely seemed to want to help you, this took you by surprise.

You don’t respond, you just watch her flip the piece of bread in the pan until it’s golden brown, then put it on a plate. “Here, you do the next one,” Kie said as she moved out of the way. You hesitantly took her spot, and mimicked her actions dipping the bread in the bowl of egg, cinnamon, milk and vanilla. “You’re gonna want to flip it so it cooks evenly,” she said softly, before her hand covered yours with the spatula, guiding you. The whole thing felt… intimate. 

With Kie’s help, you guys made almost the whole loaf of bread into french toast. “Now, what about eggs?” Kie asked. “I like ‘em scrambled.” “Perfect, that’s my specialty,” Kie joked, rinsing the bowl clean before cracking a few more eggs into it, adding milk, salt and pepper.

While you watched her cook scrambled eggs, you heard a loud groan as JJ walked into the kitchen, still shirtless; you felt your face begin to heat up. “‘Morning,” he mumbled, running a hand through his hair as he walked over to Kie, placing a kiss on her cheek. “French toast?” “Mmhm, taught y/n how to make ‘em,” Kie boasted, stirring the eggs. JJ turned to look at you, a sleepy smile on his face, and you felt your heart race. What was happening to you?

“You excited to catch some waves?” JJ asked, sauntering over to you. ��Oh totally, so excited to faceplant,” you answer, making JJ laugh. “Man, I still can’t believe you never learned to surf.” “But who between us can replace a clutch, Maybank?” “Ouch, straight to my heart, y/n/n,” he clutches his chest over his heart, and you let out a giggle. “What’s for breakfast?” Both you and JJ turn to see Pope walking into the kitchen, wiping his eyes.

After Sarah and John B woke up, and you all ate breakfast, you loaded into the Twinkie, Sarah sitting in the passenger seat while John B drove, the four of you sitting in the back. When you got to the beach, John B and Kie wasted no time diving straight in, meanwhile you were staring hesitantly at the water. “You ready?” You turned to see JJ walked over with his old surfboard. “Already waxed her for ya.” You smile, despite the fear of what you were about to do. “Okay, so first, I want you to practice standing up on the board in the sand.” You furrow your eyebrows, “Thought you were gonna join them and I was gonna wing it?” “What? No way, I’m not leaving you to fend for yourself, by the time I’m done with you, you’ll be a pro.”

You could feel heat rising to your cheeks, and his kindness made you smile. JJ showed you how to go from laying down to standing up, and once you aced the movement, he took you out in the water a little bit. “Gravity’s a bit different, so same thing, just get used to the feeling,” JJ said from beside you. The water barely reached his chest, so if you fell off your board, at least it was shallow. You pushed yourself up like he showed you, but your arms wobbled a bit, JJ quickly steadied you. “Thanks,” you pant, out of breath from trying your hardest not to fall over. He gave you a nod and a smile, backing up a bit. You slowly shifted your weight to your feet, and put your arms up as you steadily tried to stand. Despite still being a bit wobbly, JJ clapped for you. “See? What did I tell you? Now we just gotta find some baby waves.” You got back down to lay on your board. “Wait here… seriously-” JJ said sternly before heading back towards shore to get his own board. He paddled out to get beside you, then sat up a bit, so you mimicked his actions.

“You’re doing a really good job for your first time,” JJ praised. “All thanks to you… Sorry you had to miss out on all the fun,” you said softly, looking over your shoulder just as Pope came up on a wave. 

“What are ya talkin’ about? As far as I’m concerned, they’re the ones missing out, all the fun’s happening right here,” JJ insisted, moving his hands between the two of you, making you chuckle. The smile on his face brought back the heat in your cheeks, so you did the only thing you could think of and splashed him, which resulting in you two going to full on war. 

After both you and JJ were properly soaked, and the laughter finally died down, you found yourself wanting more and more. JJ took you over to a spot where smaller waves were forming, and you practiced standing and moving with the wave, but you kept falling, crashing into the water. JJ never let you feel embarrassed, immediately praising what you had done right, and encouraging you to try again until finally, you rode the tiniest of waves, JJ acted like you won the super bowl.

“Yes! That’s what I’m talking ‘bout, baby, yeah! Woo!” JJ cheered. You got back down on your knees and paddled back over to him. “I did it! Oh my god, I can’t believe I actually did that!” “Told you! Next time we come out here, you’ll be shredding with me and Kie.”

Your smile fell as a wave of guilt washed over you. You had been having feelings for Kie’s boyfriend, and worse, you also were having feelings for JJ’s girlfriend.

“Yeah, yeah, it’ll be awesome,” you tried to save. “You were right, JJ, that actually was fun.” “You were right, too, by the way,” JJ said suddenly, making your eyebrows furrow. “Right about what, Maybank?” You asked. JJ smiled, almostly shyly, looking down at his board between his legs. “You’re a good kisser.”

July 9th - the fourth time.

You were working in your dad’s shop, JJ had called off, and you helped your dad by doing JJ’s work. “It’s just not like him…” Your dad said, checking the oil dipstick, wiping it clean with a cloth. “JJ’s never called out before.” “Which is exactly why you can't punish him. Shit happens, dad,” you defended despite knowing JJ was fine.

Your dad gave you a knowing look. “Sweetheart, I’m glad you and JJ are friends. He’s a good kid, y’know. And I appreciate you helping me all day. After this car you can head off early, I’m gonna close up early.” “Are you sure?” “Yeah, maybe you could go check on JJ.” “Daaaad,” you whined, you knew what he was hinting at. Your dad had always had a dream of you marrying a fellow car lover.

Your phone dinged from your pocket, so you quickly wiped your hands on a rag, dirty from refilling the coolant, before grabbing your phone from your pocket.

Kie ♡: miss you xx

You smile to yourself. “Oh, now what do we have here?” Your dad teased. “Stop it, it’s Kie, JJ’s girlfriend. Who I like very much for the record. As a friend,” you quickly added.

Your dad shook his head as you turned to lean against the car. You: miss u too <3

Kie texted back almost immediately. Kie ♡: when can i see you again?

You couldn’t bite back your ever growing smile, but then another ding.

Kie ♡: if i’m being honest i havent been able to stop thinking abt our kiss Kie ♡: have you?

You felt your heart race as your eyes scanned the words over and over again. You quickly glanced to your father, busy changing an air filter. That was the last thing

You: i can’t stop thinking abt that day period Kie ♡: i’m talking to jayj rn Kie ♡: we’re at the chateau Kie ♡: could you come over? Kie ♡: no pressure xx

It took you five minutes to type out your response, despite you having made your mind up the second she asked.

You: i’m omw

The walk to the chateau was a determined one. It had only been five days since you kissed both Kie and JJ, and like Kie, the memory was plaguing your mind. You got there in 10 minutes.

When you walked through the back door into the mudroom, JJ stood up from the couch where he had been seated. Kie was sitting in the armchair on the other side.

“Hey,” JJ said first. “Hi…”

JJ cleared his throat and sat back down. You suddenly felt awkward, and foolish. You had come here with no plan, no idea of what you wanted to gain from this. “Should… Should I go, or-” JJ asked. “I’ll say it…” Kie volunteered, scooting to sit on the edge of her seat. You hesitantly walked over to sit on the chair near the door, facing them.

“For a while, like before I even met you, I had been having these… feelings. Romantic urges for women. But-But I was already with JJ, so I just tried to ignore it. Then JJ met you, and we all became friends, and I thought you were… so beautiful and funny and kind. You can ask JJ, I told him like a week after we met,” Kie rambled. “It’s true,” JJ interjected, your head moving like you were watching a tennis match. “And when you told us you liked women and men… I got this…idea,” Kie continued.You quickly put the dots together and you let out a sigh of disappointment. Your worst fear was coming true.

“Seriously? You guys want me to be your unicorn?” “What? What’s a unicorn?” Kie asked. “It’s like when a straight guy and a bisexual girl are dating and have another bisexual girl around for hooking up with,” JJ explained, which honestly impressed you. “No, no, y/n, it’s not like that at all… I… I really like you. I wanted to talk about the possibility of you dating us- well- all of us, dating together,” Kie corrected, and it took you by surprise. You turned to look at JJ, but he was fidgeting with his hat, taking it off to run a hand through his hair before turning it to be backwards.

“I- I’m sorry, so just to clarify, you want me to be your guys’ what? Side piece?”  “No, I want you to be our girlfriend, mine and JJ’s, and I’d be your girlfriend and JJ would be your boyfriend.” “A throuple,” JJ spoke up, causing you to look at him again, this time he returned your gaze, wetting his bottom lip as you two held eye contact. “But-But we’d take it slow, I guess what I’m asking is if you would go on a date with us. See how it feels, and if we all like it, we keep going on dates.”

You had been approached many times by couples, mostly your friends’ boyfriends, for one night stands or casual hook ups, but never had someone suggested dating. You didn’t know what to think. A part of you felt like it was too good to be true, like you were falling into a trap that ended in you being humiliated and heartbroken, but you also felt like it was some sort of proof, proof that everything you had been feeling for both of them was not only real, it was mutual.

“You don’t have to give us an answer right now,” JJ added.

“Yeah, right, no pressure, and if you don’t want to, that’s totally cool too, we get i-” “Okay,” you interrupted her. “Let’s do it.”

Kie’s eyes widened before a smile broke out on her lips, “Really?”

Your mouth opened, but you bit your lips as you internally debated whether or not to be honest. Your eyes moved from Kie’s, wide and excited, to JJ’s, focused and hopeful. You let out a chuckle, “I felt like I was going crazy… feeling things for both of you…” you confess, running a hand through your hair. Kie looked over to JJ before getting up to kneel in front of you, putting her hand on your knee. “You’re not crazy… I thought I was going crazy when I started having these feelings, and JJ-” Kie’s head turned to look at the blonde, now standing. “I mean, he liked you first.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked from her to him, the tips of his ears turning pink as he looked away.

“So… you guys want to take me on a date?” you ask sheepishly. “How’s… tomorrow night sound?” Kie asked, a shy smile creeping onto her lips.

You looked over to JJ, he was leaning against the wall, his head down but his eyes up and on you. “Tomorrow night it is,” you answer.

©ᵒᵘᵗᵉʳᵐᵃʸᵇᵃⁿᵏˢ ²⁰²⁴

[pathologicalreid]

Margot you hate Maeve? :(

Whyyy? She‘s so pretty and has a nice voice and at the end of the day I support Womens rights and wrongs so hating her do keeping her ex-fiancé as a secret is not a solid reason to me! (lowkey joking but still whyyy?

long winded answer to this question below the cut

i do hate maeve! but i love beth riesgraf (if you ever want to see her in another show she’s in leverage her character’s name is parker and the episodes are in full on youtube)

maeve is a mary sue! she’s brought into the show and presented to viewers as a “perfect match” for spencer. we’re given a few phone calls periodically from their 8 months together and it’s just not enough to convince me as an audience member that spencer was in love with her. she’s even referred to as the love of his life which just gets further ruined as the show goes on (re: in season 15 when spencer implies he’s been in love with jj for 15 years).

they have no chemistry! and if you’re thinking “but margot you only see them talking on the phone” and to that i would say exactly! i have dms with mutuals with more chemistry than reid and maeve ever had. i’m observing their relationship with what i’m given as a viewer, and spencer had more chemistry with austin (52 pickup), dylan (hero worship), and dorian (rock creek park) than he did with any of his canon love interests (i’m adding max to the conversation)

i’m not convinced she was very good at her job 😭 b-12 and magnesium for chronic migraines is a fucking crazy recommendation from a geneticist because we see spencer going to all of these specialists and anyone who has ever had a chronic illness will tell you that a blood panel like that would’ve been the first thing they looked at!!! i know they weren’t technically doctor-patient, but there’s still some wonky power dynamic that i don’t like!

one of my biggest quarrels is that she had a stalker. she was dating an fbi agent who was part of this renowned unit. she never asked for help. in fact she refused to let him help even after he offered to bring the case to the team!!!! i had a stalker (years ago dw) and i absolutely would’ve accepted any help offered to me at the time!

maybe if they had given us more of them before the events of zugzwang she could have grown on me! if they had included their conversation about the blindfold so that we could see it again when diane brought it up we could’ve connected those dots and felt more involved in their relationship.

tl;dr, i don’t hate maeve as a person but i do hate her as a character, if that makes sense

[sweatervest-obsessed]

You

pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

wc: 1.8k

cw: oh death babes, depression, mentions of drugs, mentions of ODs, gun violence, blood, four out of the five stages of grief (there’s no acceptance here)

a/n: Guys, I was feeling something, and spewed this out. Enjoy the pure grief and pain I just poured out onto a page. Also spot the little references throughout hehe. 

Spencer Reid Masterlist

“Spence, you did everything you could. It’s not your fault.” 

He shook his head and pressed you up against his chest, ignoring the blood seeping into his pants, his vest, his hands. 

“You can’t—hey, hey, hey, look at me. Y/n, please.” His voice cracked on his plea as the two of you crumpled to the ground. He screamed out for a medic as he cradled your body against him. 

Your eyes floated in and out of consciousness, focusing on him when they could. “We knew this was going to happen eventually.”

“N-No.”

“I-I…I love you…” Your chest heaved up and down. 

“Stop it. Stop.” 

“So….much….” 

Spencer just shook his head and yelled at his team to do something, but they all stood back, none of them wanting to ruin the goodbye he never got to say. 

Spencer snapped into focus, realizing he was sitting on the jet, staring out the window. There was no one sitting next to him, they had all taken the physical seats, leaving him to the couch. And while this was nothing out of the norm, the only difference was that you weren’t sitting on the couch facing back at him. 

Spencer was alone, in his head, and on the couch. 

Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n passed away on May 17th, at the young age of thirty. She had been an agent of the FBI for over seven years, and a member of the BAU for almost five. She had become an integral part of the FBI and was a valued member of the BAU. She was survived by her fiancé Doctor Spencer Reid, her mother and father, her younger brother and sister, as well as two nieces and one nephew. 

Spencer thought about you every single day. 

He would think about you when he went to make his coffee, adding a scoop of sugar since that’s how you took yours. He thought about you when he took the train into work, listening to songs that you loved, over and over and over. He thought about you when he would sit alone on the jet, trying to ignore all of the pitiful stares as everyone tried not to take your spot on the couch. 

He liked to replay your death over and over and over, making it so that he was in the other car, he was onsight to say goodbye to you. 

Derek told him that you waited for as long as you could. 

Spencer didn’t know if that was comforting, knowing you willingly suffered longer than you needed to, just to see him one last time. But it was in vain since you died two minutes and forty-seven seconds before the car arrived. 

In his head, he was the one who held you, who told you how much you were loved and adored, and maybe that could’ve made you stay. 

It wasn’t Derek holding you as you choked on your own blood, watching you struggle to survive long enough. It wasn’t Derek holding you telling you to breathe and just let go. It wasn’t Derek being the last person to hear your voice. 

Tell him that I’m s-so sorry, and I-I...love him...so. Much.

Spencer realized about a month after the funeral, that he never saw your wedding dress. You were about seven months away from your wedding when you died, but you had been engaged for over a year. 

Emily, Penelope, and JJ have the pictures, but he couldn’t bring himself to see you in something that was supposed to signify your forever, when instead it was cut short by an ambush and the carelessness of the local cops. 

Apparently, it was perfect. But Spencer didn’t have perfect. He wasn’t lucky enough to have perfect. He wasn’t privileged enough to even be allowed to think about perfection. 

The anger would take over after thinking about it for too long. He always found himself angry with you for leaving him—abandoning him. How selfish could you be? Spencer believed he wasn’t worthy of you, he never had. You’d always take your lunch breaks with him, so he always had someone to sit with since he told you about how he would eat alone when he was younger. Every time he’d come in with his tie crooked or his hair a mess, you would casually let him know. Eventually, when you worked up the courage to kiss him one night, you just started fixing it for him. Every morning you’d make him coffee as you both got ready for the day. You’d leave him little notes hidden in his desk, in his pillowcase, in his wallet, in his pockets.

It didn't take anything to make him think about you, but when he reached into the pocket of his jacket to find his phone as he got onto the plane, he found one. 

Hello Darling,          I hope today is a good day for you. You deserve         good things Spence. I hope you one day believe        it as much as I know it to be true     With all the love in my heart,             Future Mrs Doctor Spencer Reid P.S. you owe me the dishes tonight…

It shattered what little resolve he had left this morning, causing him to sit alone, on the couch, the note pressed against his lips as he stared out the windows of the plane. 

It was ironic that the one good thing he had left in the world was suddenly gone, and how you leaving made him feel as though he deserved nothing. The Bureau gave him a maximum of six months off--Grief Leave, they called it. But he ended up getting restless around month four, asking Hotch if he could come back periodically. That was how JJ found out that Spencer had been sleeping on the couch, unable to bring himself to sleep in a bed made for the two of you when there was only one left. 

It’s also how JJ found out that Spencer had relapsed. 

She had been the one to find him on the bathroom floor, exactly four months after your funeral. And Spencer fucking hated her for it. He couldn't stand to be stuck in your shared apartment alone, but he couldn't bring himself to just abandon the last place he held you. He kept asking JJ why she would keep the two of you apart? Two souls that were meant to forever be intertwined suddenly ripped apart. It felt like some sort of cruel joke. 

But he didn’t use after that. One and Done, as he stated to Garcia over the phone one night while at a rehab. They let him out a week and a half later since they couldn’t prove he was a harm to himself anymore.

The team would take their turns, making Spencer feel as though he was twenty-three again. They would watch him, as they felt obligated to babysit him. Made him feel more like his friendships were chores than acts of love. Spencer didn’t feel much love anymore, only pity. 

Spencer looked over as Derek cleared his throat, silently asking if he could sit down, in your spot. He nodded once, an invitation he wasn’t really in the mood to repeat. 

The plane ride was going to be a long one, six hours. And Spencer had only been overthinking everything for only one of them. 

“You found another one.” Not a question, an observation. 

Reid nodded, his gaze had shifted back to the window, the clouds, the slight rain streaking horizontally across the sky as they flew. 

 You loved the rain. It was refreshing, something cleansing. Rebirth, as you would say. 

It gives you a new beginning everytime it rains, which is extremely kind of the universe considering how many times we manage to fuck up. 

Spencer had once laughed at that, listening to you rant on about the perks and importance of rain. But now? He fucked hated it. He saw glimpses of you in every rain drop, reflecting you millions of times, and he would hear your laugh every time it thundered, taking up as much space as deserved and echoing through your now empty home.

It rained for a week straight after you died. The world weeped at the loss of your soul. Spencer couldn’t tell if it was a cruel joke from the universe, or if it was you trying to tell him to try out that whole “rebirth thing”. 

Either way, he didn’t enjoy it as much as you would have. 

“Even when she’s not…” Spencer closed his eyes and swallowed the words, still unable to say them outloud. “She still manages to, uh, render me speechless.” 

Your favorite pastime was getting Doctor Spencer Reid to become speechless. You learned how to play chess, without his knowledge, and managed to beat him the first time you played. At some point, you had learned enough Russian to go and see one of those movies he enjoyed so much, even though he knew that deep down the whole thing was not remotely in your wheelhouse. The team had never heard Spencer go as quiet as often as he did when you were around. 

Except for now. Spencer would state a fact, make an observation, point out something the team was missing, and that was it. He never spoke more than a few sentences at a time. Gone were the days of rants and backstory and additional context, that you always argued were important. No one listened to Spencer like you did. Instead, now, the world settled into an uncomfortable silence where laughter and rambling and teasing should have been. 

“She’s good like that.” Derek looked down at his hands. The two of them barely spoke. Spencer knew that Derek could still see your breath stop when he closed his eyes. Derek once drunkenly told him that sometimes, he could still see your blood over his hands–He couldn’t wash it out with water, so some nights he’d wash it out with whiskey, or bourbon, or scotch, anything to make the stains go away. 

The two of them looked at one another before opting to not say anything further, at risk of causing them both even more grief at the subject of you. 

I swear Spence, it’ll be okay. You’ll be okay. I know you will.

It was funny to him that in his day dream, you always ended up comforting him. You always ended up being the one to make sure he was okay before you died. 

I love you so much Spence. 

And he would just whisper how much he loved you back, hoping to any god that somewhere, somehow, you could hear him. You could hear his misery and come back, having pranked him. He’d forgive you, if you came back. 

But instead, while he thought about you at 43,894 feet above the earth, you lay six feet under, permanently grounded. 

[a1ecmcdowell]

good graces — pope heyward x kook!reader!

part of the short n' sweet x obx collection, found here!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤincludes, kook!reader. mean girl!reader. pope is the sweetest pea.<3

❛ want you every second, don't need other guys! ❜

pope heyward was whipped. honestly? sometimes you exploited his love, knowing that whatever you said, he’d fall over himself to try and make happen. like, you were just the best thing to ever happen to him — and that wasn’t even a stretch. he’d told you so. 

so here you were, sitting on his lap while he hung out with his delinquent friends, not hearing a single word that any of them said. they weren’t your friends after all, even though they’d accepted you as such. 

your friends had nothing better to do than call you crazy for dating a pogue in the first place. but what business of theirs was it, getting in between you and someone that worshiped the ground you walked on? 

“what are you thinking about?” pope whispers in your ear, his hand splayed across your stomach, tracing little circles and hearts with his index finger. his other hand, bless him, pulls down the hem of the mini skirt to cover more of your leg. 

you smile over your shoulder at him, planting a kiss on his cheek in the process. “just things.” 

“oh, ‘just things’, huh? those are my favorite things to think about,” he teases, the hand on your stomach tickling along the edge of your hip, just up your ribcage. “don’t like when you go quiet on me, button.” 

button. it always made your heart feel like it was full of warm butterflies when he called you that. because you’re cute as a button, he’d said the first time, when you asked why. 

people didn’t usually think you were cute as anything. they tended to steer clear of you, out of fear of the power you held on figure 8. and, really, they were valid for it. you knew so much about so many people that, well, one wrong look and you’d ruin their life. 

but not pope. sweet little pope drunkenly stumbled up to you one night a few months ago and declared that you were the prettiest person he’d ever seen. through a bunch of slurs and stumbled words trying to make that point, but hey, it counted. 

“why? you afraid i’m thinking of ways to exploit you or something?” 

pope laughs under his breath, like he’s saving the sound just for you, only for you. he always made you feel so, so special. “yes, actually.” 

“you know i’d never do that to you,” you coo, turning a little on your side to face him and pinch his cheek teasingly between your index finger and your thumb. “not my boyfriend.” 

“oh, barf,” jj exclaims from the other side of john b’s porch, his fingers loosely holding a beer can between them. “get a room, will ya? some of us are trying to get fucked up.” 

you shoot a stern glare at him. usually people wither underneath your icy gaze, but jj maybank was a special case of mess, and so all he did was smile at you, sickly sweet and fake. 

no, you weren’t just cruel in this case, rejecting all of pope’s friends. they’d rejected you first. you could make a little more effort to get in their good graces, but why would you? 

why, when you had the approval of the only person you wanted? 

“might exploit him.” you don’t take your eyes off of him, though your words are aimed behind you, at the boy holding you just a bit tighter. 

pope laughs again. “good luck with that,” he hums, “nothing’s ever embarrassed him. we’ve tried.” 

you could do it. surely there was some weakness that you could manipulate. everyone had one, even when they said they didn’t. pope’s was you; yours was dirt mucking up your favorite heels. 

“stop thinking on me,” pope chastises lightly, his hands tightening around your waist, dragging you in closer against his chest. his lips are like butterfly wings beating against the side of your neck, leaving little presses of kisses along your skin. “forget j.” 

your glossed lips puff out in a pout. “i’ve tried. he’s just so damn loud.” 

you rest your hands on top of pope’s over your stomach, locking your fingers with his. he flips one of your hands over, loosens his grip, and plants his mouth on your palm in another kiss. 

he was so, so obsessed with you. you still hadn’t figured out what exactly you did to earn such loyalty, but who were you to deny it, when it was so sweet? 

“they’ll come around eventually,” he whispers on your palm, kissing each of your fingertips, then the inside of your wrist, “just gotta let ‘em get tired of looking for flaws. they won’t find any. not in you.” 

another wash of warmth falls over you, coating you like a soft blanket. god, he was perfect, wasn’t he? 

“oh, i don’t care about their opinion about me,” you say easily, tilting your head over your shoulder again so you could look at him, meet those beautiful dark eyes of his. 

his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. the look in his eyes says that he doesn’t believe you, and honestly, it’s a good assessment. you didn’t like people not liking you. made you want to find some way to ruin them, to give them a valid reason not to— 

“just yours,” you clarify, and it’s as true as pope’s analyzing eyes’s assumptions. 

and when he kisses you, a lingering, soft one on your parted lips, you don’t even hear the mock gagging coming from the blonde across from the both of you. not when pope’s adoration radiates off of him like soundwaves, drowning out everything around the both of you.

support me on patreon!<3

[miguelschamp]

labyrinth

pairing: drew starkey x actress!fem!reader

summary: drew calms your anxiety at poguelandia

warnings: secret relationship, mentions of anxiety, mentions of slightly harmful coping techniques, other than that, complete and utter fluff :)

you look around at the fans surrounding you. you were at poguelandia. the event being held to promote season three of outer banks.

you were apart of the main cast. you played a teenage girl that had been apart of the pogues since the very beginning. being best friends with jj and john b first and slowly adding in pope, kie, and sarah.

to say events like this gave you anxiety would be an understatement. it was all you could think about since you heard about it from your manager.

you were so scared of doing something wrong. literally anything could ruin someone’s image when they’re in the public eye.

you had been doing well so far, but as time went on you could feel yourself becoming increasingly anxious as it set in just how many people had come to see you.

you tried mingling with madison and jonathan to hopefully clear your mind and bring your mood up, but it wasn’t working.

luckily, madison had noticed your behavior and discretely called over the one person who could help you when you got in your head like this.

drew.

you look around as some fans call your name. you give them a smile and blow them a kiss which made them erupt in screams and shouts of praise.

you chuckle softly as you turn back toward madison and jonathan. you take a deep breath as you start to pick at your hands. a habit you’ve had the majority of your life. it was also a habit that you were trying to get rid of since it only ended in small cuts and bruises littering your hands.

“hey.” you hear. you look up as someone cups their hands around yours pulling them away from each other.

“drew ?”

“hey, what’s going on ?” he asks softly

you shake your head, “nothing.”

“you sure ?” he says. you notice that he hasn’t let go of of you.

“oh my god, drew and y/n.”

“are you guys dating ?”

“we love you guys.”

you turn toward the shouts. speculations of you and drew being together have spread over the internet like wildfire since the first season of outer banks. at first, they weren’t true. you guys really were just friends, but after awhile they were.

you and drew started dating just before the release of the second season, but you two agreed that you wouldn’t post your relationship all over the internet.

seeing as most of your lives were on full display no matter how badly you wanted to avoid it, you wanted this to be just between yourselves for as long as you possibly could.

yours and drew’s relationship was more than you could ever ask for. he treated you amazingly, making you feel as if you were the only girl in the entire world.

“hey.” he says quietly. you turn to him noticing that he’s gotten a lot closer. “don’t worry about them it’s just you and me right now.”

“i don’t know what happened. i was fine and then i wasn’t.”

“that’s okay.” he nods, “you’re doing amazing.”

“no, i’m not. this is my job and i can’t even do it without feeling like my world is caving in on itself.”

“everyone deals with something, baby. trust me when i say that you’re not the only actress dealing with this. you’re doing the best you can, alright ?”

you nod slowly as you look down at your hands. he still hadn’t let go.

“you’re gonna have to let go soon so no one says anything.” you mumble, but he heard you due to how close he was.

“i don’t care.” he says. “i’m worried about you right now.”

you look up at him catching his blue eyes shining through his glasses. “i’m okay.”

as drew looks down at you, he knew you weren’t fine. you were just trying to make him feel better about your situation. so, despite what you two had agreed to, his hand cups your jaw softly.

your brows furrow, but you instinctively lean further into his hand. you’re taken aback when he leans in and places a soft kiss on your lips.

you’re too enamored by drew to hear the gasps and murmurs of the fans that saw you guys. madison and jonathan smiling at each other at you two finally being together in public.

as drew pulls away, what just happened finally dawns on you. “drew-“

“i know.” he says, “i care more about you than what people have to say about us.”

you smile softly as he rubs his thumb across your cheek. you nod to yourself as you grab his hand that had been resting on your cheek.

you lean up and place a kiss on his cheek that earns a smile from your boyfriend. as you stand in front of him, drew gushes.

“i’m never washing this cheek again.”

you giggle as he wraps his arms around you pulling him into his chest. planting a kiss on your head as you two sway together.

your worries and anxieties washing away as you’re held by the man you love. and now everyone else knew it, too.

[shinyrhinestones]

Loved in the night

Summary: Elle comforts Reader after her mother gets hospitilazed.

Pairing: Elle Greenaway X BAU!Fem!Reader.

Genre: Fluff, smut and angst.

NSFW.

Category: Oneshot

Warnings: Sickness, food, drinks. Oral (reader rec), petting, making out. Also Reader has a mum living in the US.

Also this is a draft from a long time ago. I’m not perfect at writing, and Especially not at smut, so yeah 🤷‍♀️ also this was probably written quickly so it probably feels rushed and there’s probably a bunch of grammar mistakes 🫠

———————————————————————

You’ve never really been worried about anything bad happening to your family. They didn’t live as close to you and your job, and you never really worried about their health either. Everything seemed to go well. But you never quite know what to expect. A phone call informing you about your mothers heart attack was a good way to ruin your entire day.

You got permission of your boss to leave for the day, and you rushed to the hospital. The doctor explained how it was going to be all right, and she would recover. You stayed by your mothers side for some time, even though she was unconscious. You still had some things at work to get done. Some files that hadn’t been finished up yet. And even though you were really worried about your mother, you didn’t know what to expect when your work wasn’t done. And as your mother still was unconscious, like She had been for all the time you’d been there, you figured you would hurry back to the bullpen.

You entered the bullpen walking a little slower than normally, and with a frown formed on your face. You walked over to your desk when you were questioned by a coworker. “Y/N, where have you been?” Derek asked, head tilting a little. Honestly, you really didn’t want to tell the truth. You sat down and slouched in your seat. You opened a drawer grabbing a handful of the files you needed to finish, and stuffed them in your bag. You looked up at Derek, and saw how Elle and JJ were now standing behind him aswell. “Uhm..” Was the only thing you managed to say, staring off to the side. “I..I don’t really want to talk about it” You were met with confused looks yet worried, but met with silence. Maybe because you stood up before giving them a chance to react properply, and walked over to Hotch’s office to let him know you were taking the files with you, and that you’ll finish them in time. He of course was surprised why you had returned when you had more important stuff to focus on at the moment.

“I know, Hotch, I do. But I’m so new to this whole thing I just wanna get these done and distract me from the trouble until she wakes up.” You rambled out of worry and a slight panic. “Y/N, it’s okay, go home” Hotch said in a calm yet demanding voice. You nodded and turned around leaving his office. When you walked past Elle’s desk she immediately stood up to catch up with you. “Y/N, What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” Normally Elle would’ve let the person walk away. She normally would’ve shrugged, and turned her attention back to whatever she was doing before. But this was something completely different than normal to her. You stopped walking to be able to look her in the eyes, and have a normal conversation. You looked into her brown eyes, letting them study your face. Your heart almost melted at the sight of Elle being concerned for you. As a profiler, you could notice how she actually cared about you. But you never thought more of it, than just being a good friend. Because the thought of her being interessed in you was abnormal. Elle always seemed to good for anything really. And maybe she wasn’t even into girls.

You let your eyes fall down, and you bit the inside of your cheek. Debating on if you should tell her or not. “What is it?” She asked again, knowing something was wrong. Not only did she notice your behaviour, but also how you had visited Hotch’s office twice that day. “My mother had a heart-attack” You sighed, and brushed some of your hair behind your ears. Elle’s eyes softened even more. “Are you going to the hospital?” She asked, trying to meet your eyes. “Well, I have these files to finish, but I also want to be there for my mum when she wakes up, so I might do them in the hospital.” You explained, looking all over the place. Elle nodded along to your words, and almost started to frown herself. “What if I help you with that? We can just take it slow, alright? I'm sure Hotch understands.” She tried to calm you down, as you came of as very troubled and in distress. “Right, yeah. I’m sorry” You hid your face in your hands for a moment, then looked at the dark haired woman again. “Why don’t I help you? Let me take you to the hospital, and then accompany you there. You seem like someone who could do well with some support.” She said, holding your hands and then let them go, when you agreed. She quickly made sure that everything she had to take care of was done, so she could go home already.

——-

Elle went to hospital with you, and sat with you out in the hallway when your mother had to go through some tests. She sat down next to you, and reached you a waterbottle.

“Thank you.” You mumbled and accepted the bottle. But you didn’t open it. You just fiddled with the bottle in both of your hands. Hearing the water squish and the water moving fast in motion. Elle stared at you and your playing. Her eyes were studying you and she couldn’t help but profiling you. But honestly it didn’t take a profiler to know you were sad and down. Elle’s palms were sweaty and she tried to rub it off on her jeans. Elle could be quite a private person. Not one to always accept her company outside of work.

And perhaps you should’ve noticed that as a profiler. But everything in the moment was too overwhelming for you.

Elle rested a hand on your back, trying to show her support. She didn’t really know what to say. Other than admiring you, she of course tried to find the right words to say. But Elle just ended up sighing and left it at that. You didn’t wanna admit it in the moment, but Elles hand on your back made you try really hard not to smile or blush. Luckily, when you sit next to each other in a hospital, you dont see each others faces unless forced by yourselves. Would’ve been really hard to explain why you were smiling, in this situation.

————

And again, Elle wouldn’t let you go home alone. She was the one who convinced you to go home, and get some rest. That rest in the hospital wasn’t that enjoyable. Elle knew what she was talking about.

She drove you home, and while she was sitting in the driver seat, you couldn’t help but admire her features as she was so concentrated. And worried. You saw it in her eyes. It’s always the eyes. She bit her lip as a way to hide her concern.

She walked with you up the stairs to your apartment. Elle seemed like she really didn’t want to let you be alone, cause she could sense how bad you felt. I mean obviously. But between you and Elle, you knew a lot about each other. And that was also a realization for you, when you stood by your own doorstep. Yes, Elle was private, but to you she was more open. You’ve had your fair share of long conversations.

“Elle.” You said softly, looking at her confused. “Yeah.” She looked at you a little surprised, her eyes a little wide. Her mouth slightly open. “Why did you walk up with me here?”. You asked, even though you kinda knew why. “I..Uhm. I don’t know. Do you want me to leave?” She stuttered a bit, and she wasn’t really sure of what you trying to say.

“No.” You shook your head lightly. If you were to be honest, you would tell her how much you actually wanted her to stay. How much you wanted her close. That she should show you all her care and love for just one night. If that wasn’t too much to want.

But you were shy. And you also felt like it was weird behaviour. Even though, it wasn’t weird of you for wanting her.

You welcomed Elle inside and she complimented your apartment. You smiled lightly and thanked her.

—-

After a nice dinner made by both you and Elle, you decided you wanted to sleep. But you both knew you couldn’t sleep. Even after all of the good laughter Elle gave you for the evening, it was still hard not to worry. Elle asked you if she should stay the night, and you accepted. You didn’t want to be alone.

It was good that Elle distracted you with funny storytimes and jokes, making you both laugh. She made you distracted. You layed under the covers, your legs touching now and then. And everytime, you wondered how Elle felt about it. Cause to you, it wasn’t enough. Elle took your hand, when your laughter died down. And your eyes met for a moment. Elle was bold. You knew that. Elle took risks, and sometimes you could get so angry at her for it, with the job you had.

Elle was too afraid of saying anything. She let her thumb work around your hand, as a distraction for herself. You already felt like this way more intimate for two friends and colleagues. She scooted closer, and you smiled gently at her in the dark. But Elle was so close, she saw it. “What?” She smiled herself, and her eyes shined with being intrigued. “You’re close.” You answered shortly. Her eyes changed from shining brightly, to being afraid. “Oh, I’m sorry.” She tried pulling back, but you squeezed her hand in a second, and she stopped moving.

“What?” She blurted out.

“I don’t mind.” You explained. She relaxed her tensed up muscles, and you heard her sigh of relief. “Okay.” She whispered. “Elle..” Her eyes found yours again, and she could hear your soft breathing in the dark room. The only sounds besides that were the other people in the apartment block getting ready for bed aswell. But it was faint, and perhaps only your upstairs neighbour. Or the sounds of cars passing by out on street. In a swift motion, she let her lips touch yours in a gentle quick kiss. She wanted your reaction. And the one she got, was you pulling her back down, to kiss again. More this time.

Elle let her arms wrap around you. Her left arm around your waist, while your right arm took a hold of her shoulder. She sat up just a little, by supporting herself on her right elbow. She gave you a long kiss, pulled away and then curtly kissed down your neck before her fingers sneaked under the covers. She let her hand roam across your figure, before they went under your tanktop. Elle looked at you in the silence now between you, and you gave her a slight smile.

Her hand went up to your breast, letting her hand softly and quickly slide across, and then down to your abdomen. She leaned down again, to let your lips touch again. You sighed into the kiss, like everything had been resolved. All your thoughts about Elle had been answered, and now you were just lost in the moment. Elle’s fingers snuck under the waistband of your panties, and let the tip of her finger softly settle on your clit.

You had one of your hands on Elle’s cheek, by her hair. And the other hand was around her shoulderblade. She pulled away, and you both got some air, from a heated kiss. Elles kisses were steady yet passionate. Like she kissed with all of her admiration, mixed with being certain of herself and her love.

Your head rested further into your cold pillow, as Elle rubbed her finger in gentle circles. You let out almost silent whines for everytime she rubbed. Cutting yourself off. “Are you okay?” She asked, knowing that this might be too much of a step already. “Yeah, Elle. I’m okay. I just really want you right now.” You admitted honestly. And she moved up on her knees right between your legs. “Okay.” She almost smiled, but she knew this was a moment where you needed to feel serious.

She slided down your underwear completely, and reached down. Laying herself down. She kissed where she could reach before going to one of your most sensitive places. She carefully and gently, let her tongue rest against your clit. She got less and less careful as she felt like you were getting more worked up. Her hands held onto you, of course. Your hands gripped onto the quilt, she had moved to the side, before she laid down on the madrass for you. “Mhm-“ you were a little aware of your sounds, as it was getting late and you didn’t want any complaints. She kept her soft licks, roaming around with her tongue. Her fingers carefully rested at your entrance before she let the slide in.

You let out a moan louder than you meant to. But the feeling of her was too good. She looked up but didn’t even get a look at you cause it was so dark. But she could you tensing up, and at that she let her lips suck at your clit, as your hands clenched the white quilt.

Elle could only hear her name and your soft breathing and whines. She still tried not to smile too much, as she could feel you weren’t ready to let go. She let her fingers curl inside you, and find her rhythm. One of your hands gripped her hair, and you felt it all crash down on you at once, when you felt her like that between your thighs. And with a moan cutting off the other, you felt your back arch, as your muscles got tighter. You let go off Elles hair, and let your hand rest against the bed again. Elle kept going until she felt your high wearing off. You opened your eyes, which you had barely been able to keep open. Elle sat up, after her fingers slid out again, and she sat down next to you.

She gave you a long kiss, and you sighed yet again.

However, Elle didn’t think of herself in this moment, but you wanted more of her.