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#And Morgan's like: I TRUSTED ALL OF YOU.
red-dead-bisexual · 11 days
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He's gonna be okay y'all !!!!!!!
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winnifredburkle · 1 year
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MCR + things that made me, a baby queer, go 👀👀(pt.1)
You Know What They Do to Guys Like Us In Prison/I’m Not Okay (I Promise) Music Video/Vampires Will Never Hurt You/To The End/Gerard “Faggot” Way/Frank “Pansy” Iero/Mikey “Fucked” Way
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nightingaletrash · 2 years
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I'm sick and can't sleep so fuck it, rambling time. Referring to Morgan and January as he/him
Prey might just be the first game that made me question the person who wanted me to do the Obiectively Right Thing.
January rubbed me the wrong way pretty early on, something about him just made me go 'I do not trust you' and the feeling never really abated. I think it was mostly how he spoke to Morgan; 'well you obviously intend to blow up the station, even if there's no way to help the people here get out, you can't and shouldn't seek any alternative.'
I think the moment he got me was after seeing Alex's video. He says that Alex thinks that that Morgan is the real one because he came first, but does January ever stop to consider that this Morgan that he's helping isn't the same one that made him? January thinks he knows who Morgan is as much as Alex does... because his Morgan came after? Because his Morgan created him for a singular purpose? He talks about Morgan's own purpose and having to find one for himself, but January is convinced that destroying Talos I is Morgan's purpose. There's no room for discussion and it feels a lot like having an overbearing parent who can only envision one path for you.
And I think the big difference for me is that Alex does love Morgan. He yearns for how things used to be, regrets letting Morgan be the primary test subject, he wants his little brother back the way he used to be. So driven and passionate and inspiring that he never asked for permission in his bid to change the world.
January expecting what's right at the cost of Morgan's life because of his programming vs Alex wanting the questionable thing because it means not losing his little brother? Like damn Arkane you did something good here
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almoststedytimetravel · 5 months
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are there any relationships (platonic, romantic, familial, etc) in fates that you love but never talk about
I talk about Laslow/Azura constantly but never about Siblings Soleil and Shigure. even with what little siblings get in fates, Soleil and Shigure already have dorky sibling energy, with their name starting with the same letter, Laslow white woman moment tbh. I headcannon Soleil as the eldest (Because the games don't really specify) and her being worse at the performing arts then her little brother and being really self embrassed about it but also too prideful to say anything about it. I also think about Garon pre getting Anankos'd and his kids because by all accounts he was a really great father.
Oh, also Niles/Oboro. There's something about their support that really gets me! Just, two vaguely unpleasant people figuring out how not to be unpleasant around each other and properly communicate with each other makes me really happy. Sadly I don't have an easily accessible copy of rev so it's Selena and Niles in my "Second favourite pairing but my favourite pairing for you both is locked in a different game." Their support is great though!
Also, while not technically Fates, the trio is here so I'm going to count them. The awakening kids relationship with their good timeline counter parts. Like, what is their relationship to them? Is it familial? Do they act like siblings, aunt/uncles (Why is there no gender neutral term for this). But specifically I think about Owain and Laslow the most in regard to this specifically because of fates. Personally I think it would differ from kid to kid.
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allywthsr · 2 months
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24hrs with Lando | (l.norris)
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summary: you also follow Lando‘s daily routine in the new quadrant video
wordcount: 1.8k words
pairing: landonorris x fem!reader
warnings: mentions of smut
notes: requested! Kinda rushed and don’t like it as much as I hoped I would :/
requests are closed!
When the doorbell rang, Lando jumped up from the couch and opened the door, today was going to be hard, but fun, you knew it. You followed Lando and welcomed Ethan and Morgan to your Monaco home, after a quick hug you also said hello to the camera, it wasn’t unusual for you to be in front of the camera, and being Lando Norris’ girlfriend comes with that. Because you were a fan favorite, they wanted you to join him for the next a day in the life video, and who were you to deny their wishes?
The day started with showing the boys and the crew around your apartment, Morgan breaking the case of Lando’s trophy and the next thing was breakfast.
The overnight oats weren’t on your normal breakfast schedule, you were more of a toast person, but for the sake of the video you ate it, making the same jokes as Ethan, saying you were full after a few bites. You stood next to Lando and offered him the rest of yours, he actually kind of liked what he was eating, and wasting food wasn’t good, so he happily ate the rest of yours.
“Yo mate, wanna eat mine too? I only spit slightly in it.“
“Nah, I’m good, I don’t care about Y/N’s spit, but I don’t want to eat yours.“
“I bet you don’t care about her spit, probably eating different things too.“
Lando laughed high-pitched and you blushed, thinking about this morning where he went down on you, making you moan and yanking on his hair until you two really had to get up.
The kitchen was filled with laughter and jokes until it was time for the workout, this was something you were used to, often joining Lando for a workout, but your own workout. You and Jon had created a workout specifically made for you, you weren’t training your neck, but a full-body workout was almost on the daily agenda.
You all went to the small home gym, and Lando looked for the resistance bands.
“They might be in our bedroom.“
“How’ve the workout bands made it to the bedroom?“, Ethan asked while Lando went and grabbed them off his bedside table, again, you blushed and turned around, so you faced the wall, laughing quietly. While the boys gasped you remembered the night before, you two forgot your handcuffs at the last hotel you were in and forgot to get new ones, so yesterday Lando wanted to tie your hands up, he couldn’t think of something else to use but the workout bands, quickly grabbing them from the gym and he could finally tie your hands to the headboard. Clearly forgetting to put them back in the morning.
When Lando came back and found the three of you giggling, well, Ethan and Morgan and you stood against the wall blushing, he knew what the topic was, a slight red tone covered his cheeks as well, he wasn’t ashamed of what people would think, but he knew his friends wouldn’t let him live that down easily.
“I’m not going to comment on that“, Lando grinned and put an arm around your shoulder while turning you back around.
The workout wasn’t as fun as the breakfast was, Lando showed the exercise before the three of you repeated it, and you did work out, but Lando’s workout was harder and with more weight than yours was, lets not even begin with the neck training, you saw Lando suffering every day, but doing it yourself was probably the hardest thing ever. You’ve tried it before, as a joke, Jon barely pulled on your neck, to not hurt it, but you almost cried when he did, and he barely used any weight.
You trusted Lando, and he knew to use barely any weight at all, he slightly pulled the thing on your head and you were already struggling to hold your head straight. With a pout, you looked at Lando and he knew that was your sign to stop, he removed the device from your head and kissed your forehead, to make up for causing you pain.
Morgan commented this with a quiet ‘Aww’, which you smiled away, you weren’t hiding the PDA in front of the camera, but you also didn’t shove it in anyone's face, which was why it always made you a little uncomfortable. You knew this would be all over Tumblr, TikTok, and Reddit when the video came out, you could already hear the comments, not that they would be bad, but the fangirls would freak out, good and bad.
The boys laughed while doing the neck workout, you also couldn’t keep your laugh in, it looked funny, but you weren’t better. The comments from the boys were the funniest too, especially when Ethan made that comment about being pulled by Lando into his crotch when Morgan said he would let go, you let out a laugh, “Y/N has let go before, I know that“, with a gasp, you hit him lightly on the shoulder.
When Lando did it, it was no surprise that he looked brilliant while doing it, you were used to pulling on the rope, Jon wasn’t always around and you tried it once, and weren’t too bad at it, so it was a normal thing for you. You had to almost put your whole body to work to challenge his neck, but you did it perfectly in his eyes.
Ethan and Morgan were surprised by how much power you could put in when doing that, Lando couldn’t be prouder of you, thanking you silently with a squeeze of his arms when you were done.
Next was the protein shake, this also wasn’t something new for you, Jon always provided a shake for you too, and you were happy that he included you like that, ordering you pre-made food when you tell him, you don’t have time to cook a meal.
After the shake, it was time for the cryotherapy, you’ve never done that before, and weren’t too opposed to trying it out either. You knew Lando wasn’t the biggest fan of it, and it wasn’t a normal coldness, it was fucking freezing. The cryotherapy wasn’t too far away from your apartment, so you walked there, getting some steps in and breathing some fresh air, everyone joked about it, but you knew they all would be shaking in a few minutes.
Because you didn’t want to stand there in your lingerie, you changed into a bathing suit and met with the guys in front of the door to the frozen hell, you were given gloves, masks, and the cute headbands, to keep the most important parts of the body somewhat warm. You did check out Lando in his boxers, and you loved the Calvin Kleins on him, the fabric did little to hide what he was trying to cover up, and that got you drooling, not only in your mouth, but you just hoped you couldn’t freeze from the inside.
Together with the boys you got in the cabin and looked at Lando with big eyes, you knew it would be cold, but you didn’t know it would be THAT cold.
When Lando said his mustache is frozen you couldn’t contain but make a little side comment: “Just shave it off then.“ He couldn’t believe you said that, he was proud of his beard and you knew it, you still needed to get used to it.
You crossed your arms in front of your chest to cover your hard nipples a little, right when you did, Lando mentioned how fragile his nipples felt, and the only thing you could do was nod. Yours hurt a lot, not only did they feel like they would fall off any second, but you felt serious pain in them. You prayed the three minutes would go over fast because you couldn’t stay in here longer, you tried to stay near Lando, to get some body heat off of him, but he was as cold as you were. He quickly knew what you were trying to do, so he pressed your chest to his’ and stroked your arms to create some warmth.
“It’s unfair, ginge, they have each other to keep warm, we need to cuddle too.“
Morgan pushed Ethan with a disgusted look away from him and they both laughed. When you pushed yourself away from Lando because it was time to leave, you accidentally touched his nipple, Lando commented: ”Ouch, Y/N, my nipple,“ which made you all burst out in laughter. You were extremely happy when you went through the door and finally felt the warmth of the room, it was way warmer than you thought before, thanks to the cold chamber.
Next was lunch, you were somewhat used to these meals, they weren’t a delicacy, but good enough to eat them, todays chicken teriyaki looked delicious, despite Morgan and Ethan saying otherwise. You and Lando dug into it, quietly rolling your eyes at the boys saying how disgusting it was, you‘d like to have a pizza now too, but that wasn’t on Lando’s meal plan, tho you might order some takeout later when you were sitting in front of the tv, but they didn’t need to know that. You chatted while eating and played some Jenga afterward, you were impressed at how high you were able to build the tower.
The last thing for the video was the simulator, which also wasn’t a new thing for you, especially at the beginning of your relationship, you often sat in the simulator and drove around the different tracks. It was a lot of giggles and snarky comments from Lando, but it was so much fun, you tried your best and almost ended up on top, but around the last corner you slipped off track and straight into the wall. But Lando kissed it better, the two boys made kissing sounds when he pressed some on your forehead, and you blushed again.
The rest of the day couldn’t be filmed because Lando had meetings with McLaren, and no one was allowed to be near him, in case someone could overhear some important things about the car and share it with the world. Lando trusted the boys, but it would be unfair for them to sit around in the flat and do nothing, so Lando send them on a helicopter ride.
In between meetings, Lando had his midday snacks, you stopped following his day because you had your own stuff to do, but after Lando finished all of his stuff, you two ordered some pizza to enjoy in front of the TV.
taglist: @millinorrizz @jamieeboulos @loxbbg @noneofyourfbusinessworld @myownwritings
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januaryembrs · 1 month
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BLACK CAT GIRLFRIEND | Spencer Reid x reader
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request: Hey Congratulations on the 2K! Do you think you could write something with Spencer Reid and a Reader who has lots of tattoos and/or piercings? Like she's the whole "bad girl" stereotype but Spencer and her complement each other so well and have a very sweet and mature relationship. I would love something like that.
description: the team meet Spencer's new girlfriend and she doesn't look quite like they'd imagined
word count: 1.1k
main masterlist
authors note: I officially hit 2k followers this morning!! see my post here for requesting but lets start this milestone off with a bang!! thankyou so much :))))))
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Morgan had to admit, you weren’t exactly what he’d envisioned when Pretty Boy had been talking his ear off for months about the girl in his apartment building that had slipped him your number. He wasn’t judgemental, not by a longshot, but Spencer had always seemed like the type to date the preppy, library geek, or even the cutesy geneticist if Maeve had been anything to go off of. 
It’s not like you weren’t hot, he could see that you were a mile away, but you looked like you’d sooner break someone’s wrist for so much as talking to you than fall for their resident genius. 
You smiled tightly, shaking Derek’s hand with a crushing grip, as Spencer introduced you to his team, the obnoxiously loud bass almost drowning out his words as the six of you stood in the bar. 
“Nice to meet you, Spencer talks about you all the time,” You said politely, and no sooner had you let go of the man’s warm hand, two arms were thrown over your shoulders and you were tugged into a hug. 
“I’m Penelope- oh you’re so pretty, Morgan isn’t she so pretty? You should marry Spencer then you can be boyfriend girlfriend for, like, life-” The perky voice was all a jumble as the blonde pulled away, cupping your face, rubbing down your arms kindly, sweetly, like you were swallowing a warm spoon of honey. 
“Penelope, newbie rules, remember,” Emily chimed in, seeing your eyes widen at the sudden intrusion of personal space. She could see this ending with the pretty pink bows Garcia had plaited her hair in torn to shreds on the sticky floor, right next to her long barbie locks if your intimidating figure was anything to go off, “Not everyone likes hugs,”
“No, no,” You replied, smiling gently at the woman who was softer than cotton candy, “Hugs are nice,” 
“We’re going to be very best friends, I can feel it, which is funny because my tarot actually said I’d meet a strong Taurus woman- or are you a Scorpio-” Penny’s smile was dazzling, but she was soon ushered to let go of the bear like grip she had on your shoulders by a chuckling Morgan.
“Let the other kids play with her, babygirl,” He said, and you were pulled in another direction towards Emily who gave a polite handshake. 
“Nice ink,” She said with raised brows as she saw the intricate sketches that covered the back of your hands, trailing up your arm and under the band tee you wore. She knew who they were, though they only dragged up memories of her own days of thick eyeliner and rebelling against her mother. “They must have hurt like a bitch, I got one on my hip and could barely sit for one hour,” 
You snickered, nodding, seeing her eyes trailing over the ones on your ankles and knees where your ripped jeans flashed them all. 
“Bones hurt the most, though the one on my ass is up there for the worst ones,” You replied, and Penny’s brows shot into her hairline, though she giggled like a schoolgirl being told a secret.
“I think we’re gonna need to see the proof on that one,” Morgan teased flirtily, the way he always did, the way he did even with JJ who had a whole child and partner, because it was his natural state of being. 
Spencer smiled as his team warmed to you, though he was quick to pull you to him with a gentle arm around the waist. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Derek, that man was practically his brother, he’d taken bullets for the guy, but he liked having you close, even if to just remind himself that you were all his, including said tattoo on your buttcheek that he’d seen plenty of times. 
The team didn’t need to know that, but you could tell your words had reminded him of it as he pressed a shy kiss behind your ear.
He was careful to avoid the studs and links that glittered from your ear lobe, wrapping over the cartilage on your helix, though he loved to stare at them on nights where you tied your hair up and he could count every one of them. To him you were a work of art, complex and detailed with every glance he stole. You were an illustration in one of his many books, everything he imagined for himself times a million. 
“I’m going to go get a drink, do you want one?” You said, looking up at him with puppy eyes, like a lovestruck teenager, fat adoration in your gaze. It oozed out of every inch of you, and JJ thought for a moment that you looked nothing like the scary doberman woman that Spence had originally brought over to meet them. You looked in love, the saccharine, soft and dazed kind of in love. 
“Let me get it for you,” Spencer rooted around his pocket for his wallet, turning to see Morgan’s beer bottle running low, “You having another one?”
“I’m good, my man, you just sort yourself and your lady out,” Derek flashed him a thousand watt smile and clapped him on the shoulder as you entwined your fingers with his, pulling him through the cluster of people and towards the bar, “What a stud,” 
Penelope giggled again, leaning towards her adonis best friend with honeyglow cheeks, watching their genius get led like a dog on a leash. 
“Oh lover boy had got it bad,” She drawled, watching Reid, their Reid, develop an uncharacteristically protective stance as a few men at the bar shot looks up and down your body. She couldn’t blame them either, you were a sight for sore eyes. “Okay, so do I have to be the first one to point out how hot she is or have I maybe had one too many margaritas?” 
“She seems nice,” JJ chose her words carefully, still not entirely sure she would have ever put the two of you together but she saw the way Spence’s eyes got round and longing when he looked over you. He’d clearly said something to make you laugh, and an inked hand raised up to brush his chocolate curls out of his face lovingly, “She seems good for him,”
A murmur of agreement ran through the four of them, Emily taking one more sip of her martini as her eyes roved over your figure returning with something fruity and colourful, “Anyone else dying to know what’s on her ass?” 
-
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kiss-inthekitchen · 2 months
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no vacancy | spencer reid
pairing: spencer reid x reader
set sometime in early s2; you get stuck sharing a room with your favorite boy genius who absolutely cannot know that you have feelings for him. and also, there’s only one bed. fluff, f!reader (i think there's only two usages of gender markers)
word count: 4.7k
notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3. i'm thinking i'll do more of these, i've got a few spencer fics in the vault and it was fun to rework this and see how my style has changed :)
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You shivered against the cold desert air. Twirling a keyring around your finger, you headed for the door marked 3. You were exhausted from the day and so, so ready to collapse into bed as soon as you got inside your room. 
You turned the key in the lock while Spencer waited behind you. It was late, and you and the team had pulled into a motel for the night, having been dragged out to a tiny rural town by the unsub after days of tracking him through surrounding areas. He’d been apprehended, finally, and handed over to local police around midnight. You all had decided it best to spend the night before driving back into town in the morning for take off. 
So here you were, at one of those single story motels that still used actual keys instead of key cards. Given the time of night, you knew vacancies would be scarce, so you’d already expected to have to double up on rooms. Gideon had stayed behind at Quantico, leaving Hotch and Morgan in one room and JJ and Prentiss in another, with you and Spencer sharing the last room. You’d hung back while JJ got everything figured out with the concierge (who was just a bored looking kid posted at the desk), and then she’d passed you your key with its little keyring attachment listing the room number and you all bade each other goodnight.
You’d been on the team nearly a year already, but you were still the rookie compared to everyone else. Even Spence had two years on you. But seeing as you two were the youngest, and the least inclined toward the more physical parts of your job– the chasing, tackling, firing your weapon parts– you were paired off with him more often than not. 
You weren’t complaining. You’d come to know Spencer pretty well, and you didn’t feel much apprehension at the thought of sharing a room with him for one night. 
That is, until you opened the door. 
“Oh,” you said involuntarily.  
"There's only one bed,” Spencer said. 
“Sure looks that way.” 
"At least it's a queen?" 
There was a brief pause before you both started speaking at the same time. 
"Maybe we can go back to the concierge–" Spencer began. 
"I mean, I guess I don't really–" 
"–although, JJ did say we got the last–" 
"–mind as long as you–" 
You cut yourself off this time. It’s not like there was another good option, unless one of you wanted to sleep in the car. "This is fine?" it came out as a question rather than a statement. 
"I think so? I wouldn't want to– to make you uncomfortable or anything."
"This is fine," you repeated, more sure of yourself this time. “And you don’t make me uncomfortable.”  
It was only kind of a lie. You trusted Spencer with your life, of course. But he also made you nervous. He was sweet, kind, always seeming genuinely interested in anything you had to say. And of course, anyone could see that he was attractive. You were developing feelings for him, and in a job where your coworkers and your crush himself were all adept at reading people, it really wasn’t a good position for you to be in. You just hoped Spencer was as oblivious with women as Derek made him out to be. 
"We should get out of the doorway," Spencer suggested, and you realized you'd been standing in the threshold this whole time.
"Right."
The two of you walked in, Spencer closing and locking the door behind you. It was a modest room in a tiny town; your standard ugly-patterned, faded bedspread draped over the queen bed in the center, a window looking out into the parking lot, and a dresser that didn’t even have a TV on top of it. You headed straight for the bed, sitting on the edge and removing your shoes while Spencer stood by with his hands in his pockets.
"You know, if it's a problem I can sleep on the cou– uh, the chair," Spencer offered, looking back mid-sentence and realizing that the only additional furniture this motel offered was one rigid looking armchair by the window. 
"No, you're not doing that."
"What?" he asked, taken aback by the quickness of your response.
"You're not sleeping in that chair. It looks horribly uncomfortable and I’m sure it’s never been cleaned, and I know how you’d feel about that.” 
Spencer grimaced, not having thought about that particular detail. “Yeah, but, I mean… I’d do it for you.” 
God, why did he have to say stuff like that? Like you were something special. And why now, when you were stuck in the same room with him until morning? It probably didn’t even mean the same thing to him as it meant to you. He was one of the most caring people you’d ever met. He’d probably say that to any one of you on the team. 
Or maybe sleeping in a chair meant nothing to him at all. Maybe he actually didn’t want to share the bed with you and that’s why he was trying so hard to avoid it. 
Ugh. You just wanted this day to be over. It was late, the case had been a week long, and now you were probably in for a fun night of overthinking and second guessing when you’d been expecting silence and easy, dreamless sleep. 
Okay, maybe that last part was never really an option, but still. 
“Look,” you sighed, “I know this isn't an ideal situation but there's a perfectly good bed here, so let’s just share it. If you’re okay with that. It's just one night and tomorrow we'll be back home and nobody has to know about it."
You had to fight from squeezing your eyes shut in regret. You wished that had come out differently. You chanced a look at Spencer, realizing that you’d been staring down at the faded carpet pattern while you spoke. 
The look on his face was one you hadn’t seen before, and you almost couldn't place it. He seemed sort of disappointed. Disappointed that he had to share a bed with you? Or that you'd made it sound like you didn't want to share a bed with him? Nope, you could not go down that road tonight. You shook your head once as if it would clear the thoughts from your tired mind. 
“I’m okay with that," he said, casually enough that you could almost convince yourself that you’d just imagined the look on his face before. "So, do you want the shower first, or...?" Spencer asked.
"No, I can wait, you go ahead," you said. You desperately needed the moment to yourself anyway.  
You started rifling through your bag for pajamas, toiletries, and your charger as an excuse to look busy while Spencer made his way into the bathroom with his things. As soon as the door closed behind him, you flopped back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as if it might hold all the answers. 
Spencer couldn't know about your feelings. For one thing, you were pretty sure there was a rule against dating your colleagues in the BAU. If not, there probably should be. You were such a close knit team, and if anything went wrong… you couldn’t imagine how difficult that would be. But then, the evil and uncooperative part of you also couldn’t help but think that things might go right. 
From the beginning of your time at the BAU, you’d been drawn to Spencer. It just kind of made sense. You’d gotten through school at an accelerated pace– though not as quickly as him, the man was on another fucking level when it came to academics– and you were one of the only people who found his fact dropping actually interesting, often asking him follow up questions. He’d looked adorably shocked the first few times you’d done that. 
He listened intently to your passionate rants about your favorite films and tv shows, even though he hadn’t seen any of them. When the two of you had discovered a shared interest in mythology and folklore, Hotch nearly had to separate you so you would actually get some work done. It was like you were a kid in school again, and you might’ve been embarrassed if you didn’t find it so funny, if you weren’t so giddy at the idea of a friendship that could make you feel like a kid again. 
Spencer understood you in a way that other people didn’t, laughing at your jokes even when they didn’t land for anybody else. When people interrupted or spoke over you, he always paid attention, and in situations where you were trying to add details to the profile he’d bring the conversation back around to you. 
Throughout your life you’d learned– through painstaking trial and error– to fit in pretty well in most any group you found yourself in, but you’d always considered yourself to be a little weird. A little too different. But when you were with Spencer, you felt like you didn’t have to try so hard. You could both be a little different, together. 
Spencer opened the bathroom door then, startling you. You’d been so lost in thought you hadn’t even noticed the water turn off. You looked over to see him wearing a loose white t-shirt and pajama pants, his hair still damp. And now you knew what Spencer looked like fresh out of a shower. And of course it was endearing as hell. 
“If that’s how you’re planning to sleep,” Spencer began, referencing how you were laid out in the dead center of the bed, your arms fully outstretched and hands hanging off the mattress, “then I think we might have a slight problem after all.”  
You walked out of the bathroom a short while later, dressed in your usual sleepwear of shorts and an oversized shirt. You’d put your hair up in a bun to protect it while you showered, and now it hung loose around your shoulders. You simultaneously wished your outfit was cuter and uglier; knowing your giant t-shirt wasn’t flattering your figure while also feeling like you had too much skin exposed. Not that it mattered. You were just going to get some sleep and then wake up in the morning and head home. Everything would be back to normal. 
Spencer’s in bed already. He’d turned off the big light while you were showering, the lamps on either side of the bed casting him in a softer, warmer glow. He looked up from his book to find you standing there, and the soft, familiar look in his big brown eyes had you rooted to the spot. 
“Hey,” he said softly, patting the space next to him in invitation. 
You conceded, finding your legs again and sliding into bed beside him. “Hey.” 
He fidgeted with the pages of his book, ultimately shutting it closed on his index finger to mark the page. “So, uh, are we okay?” 
“Yeah, of course,” you answered genuinely, feeling bad that your internal struggle had manifested in a way that worried him. 
“Okay, cool,” he said. He paused long enough to let you explain if you wanted to, another invitation. You knew he wouldn’t push it if you didn’t offer something up. You wanted to give him an explanation, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. 
“Sorry,” you managed. 
“For what?” 
“I don’t know… acting weird, I guess. It’s just been a long day.” 
“Oh, well, you don’t need to be sorry about that. You’re always weird.” 
Your mouth dropped open as you looked at him. “Look who’s fucking talking,” you scoffed. Some of the tension dropped from your shoulders, glad he hadn’t questioned you further. 
“Language, please,” he held up a hand to stop you. “I’m delicate.” 
“Wha–?” you let out a surprised little laugh. “You’re an idiot!” 
“Yeah okay, tell that to my I–.” 
“Oh, my IQ of 187,” you finished for him, rolling your eyes. Even that was full of endearment. “God, you are so annoying.” 
“Hm. Y’know, this might be a long night for you. I’d hate to keep you up with my annoyingness.” 
“I feel like you could’ve come up with a better word than annoyingness, Mr. 187,” you tilted your head where it rested against the headboard, looking up at him. 
“Oh, she’s being a smartass now!” he split into a surprised grin, and you could swear your heart skipped a beat. 
“You just said ass.” 
“Wow. How quickly you’ve corrupted me.” 
“Right, of course. It’s my fault.” 
“I knew you’d agree.” 
“Shut the fuck up,” you laughed. 
Things felt a little bit more normal after that, joking around with Spencer like you normally did made the rest of the night feel less daunting. 
Shortly after that, the two of you agreed that you should get some sleep, each reaching over to turn out the light on your respective sides of the bed. 
You let yourself sink into your pillow, the exhaustion you had been feeling giving way to a hyper awareness of Reid’s body next to you. You were kept awake, completely overcome by the foot of space between you and Spencer; the consequences of crossing that space, the way it might feel, the curiosity over whether he was laying awake too, thinking the same thoughts as you. Even with that foot of space separating you, you could feel his body heat. You longed to move closer to him, to touch him, to let his warmth seep into you and lull you to sleep. 
But you didn’t, and you wouldn’t, because this was just an unfortunate booking mishap. It didn’t mean anything. Tomorrow it would be over, and you could more easily go back to hiding your feelings from everyone else and yourself. 
Eventually, exhaustion won out. 
You woke what could’ve been a few minutes or a few hours later, the sky still dark. You couldn’t tell what exactly had woken you up, only the sense that you’d moved, almost like you’d fallen. But fallen from what? 
You blinked in the dark, the street lamps in the parking lot providing enough residual light to keep the room from being pitch black. 
Reid was sitting up. He must’ve bolted upright, you thought. Had that been what moved you? Were you lying on him?! 
“Hey, you okay?” 
“Sorry. Just a nightmare,” he said as if it was nothing. “Sorry to wake you.” 
“What was it about?” you ignored his apologies, sitting up as well. 
“I don't really even remember,” he breathed, almost like it was funny. “Just having a physiological reaction to whatever it was, I guess.” 
You had nightmares too, of course. You all did. You hated remembering them, but you also hated the times when you woke up in the dark, dazed and inexplicably scared. Without thinking, you reached for his hand. 
He turned to look at you then. “I really didn't mean to wake you,” he reiterated. 
“I figured,” you smiled slightly. You noticed his breathing was just a bit too fast. You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand, leaning over to rest your weight against his side, your head on his shoulder. His nervous system would regulate itself quicker this way. 
“You were on my pillow, by the way.” 
“What?” you ask, your head jerking back from him. 
“I totally called it. You rolled right into the center of the bed in your sleep. Total bed hog.” 
“Hey!” you protested, pulling your hand back from his in embarrassment. So you had been lying on top of him. Or at least really close to him. His hand chased after yours, finding you again. 
“That wasn’t me complaining about it.” 
“Oh,” was all you could think to say back. 
It was quiet for a minute. You let your head fall back onto Spencer’s shoulder, but your heart raced in your chest. 
“Can I ask you something?” he questioned, his tone becoming more serious. 
“Oh– of course,” you answered, your brow creasing. 
“What did you mean when you said ‘it’s not ideal’ and ‘nobody has to know about it’?” 
“Wh– I– Spencer, come on.” 
He didn’t give you an out this time. Just waited for an answer. 
“I don’t even really know,” you sighed.  
“I believe you’re being partially truthful about that.” 
“Don’t profile me.” 
“I’m not. I just know you.” 
You sighed. “You know, sometimes I hate that stupid memory of yours.” 
“I don’t need an eidetic memory to remember that. It was a weird thing to say, and it happened like four hours ago.” 
“You’re guesstimating. And it wasn’t that weird.” 
“Maybe not, but the way you said it was. And you’re avoiding my question.” 
You continued to avoid it, biting down on your bottom lip. 
“And you stuttered when I brought it up.” 
“I told you to stop profiling me.” 
This time, he just hummed in response. 
“And so what if I stuttered?” 
“Stuttering is usually more my thing. A nervousness thing.” 
Maybe this was actually your nightmare. Maybe you’d wake up soon and none of this would’ve been real, and you wouldn’t have had to explain to Spencer that the reason you’d had an attitude was because the situation tonight had made it harder to hide your feelings for him. Big feelings that became a lot harder to ignore when he was this close to you, still holding your hand, the mix of scents from his detergent and deodorant clouding your judgment. Of all the embarrassing scenarios that you could’ve imagined playing out tonight, this was very high up on the list. 
“I said ‘it’s not ideal’ because it’s not, just by definition. We were supposed to get a double room and we didn’t. Not ideal. And I said no one has to find out because I can already see Morgan having a field day with it and I know the exact expression that’ll be on his face–” 
“The eyebrows,” he nodded, lips pursed. 
“And then everyone else will get in on it and I just figured…” you sighed. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to deal with that.” 
“That all makes total sense.” 
“Good,” you breathed. Too relieved. 
“Now tell me the rest of it.” 
“God, Spencer–” you huffed out, frustrated. He knew you too well. 
You wanted to run. Maybe you could go sleep in the car after all. And then ignore Spencer for the rest of the day, and then the year, and your life, and– 
“Don’t make me say it,” you breathed. This had to be a dream. 
“But there is something to be said?” he questioned, his tone hushed, almost reverent. 
It was just vague enough. You could pretend it was nothing. 
“Yes.” 
You felt like you’d just blown your life up with one word. 
Spencer took a deep breath, your body cresting and falling with the movement of it. 
“You make me feel better about being myself,” he confessed.  
You shut your eyes. You had a constricting feeling in your throat suddenly, and the awful realization that you might cry. 
He spoke again, because you couldn’t. “I haven’t always felt good about it, you know? And then you joined the team, and, well– you changed a lot of things for me. And you’re beautiful, obviously, and I was scared to mess up what we have, because it’s special, I think–” 
“It is.” 
“–and then you started freaking out when you saw the bed,” he was smiling now, you could hear it, “and I thought, maybe it wouldn’t be so crazy… maybe I could make you feel that way too.” 
“You do. Of course you do. I feel like I can be my full self with you. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt like that before.” 
Spencer laughed, a little delirious giggle, and squeezed your hand in his. You’d managed to avoid crying, thankfully, and you grinned along with him, looking down at your joined hands as you squeezed him back. 
Things seemed to still for a beat, the two of you sitting with this moment and letting it stretch out. You still couldn’t really believe this was happening. You might have to tell Spencer to pinch you. 
“So what does that mean for us now?” you asked. 
“Well, for right now at least, I think it just means that we can go back to sleep without overthinking things into oblivion.” 
“I was not–”
“Okay, this time I am profiling you, and you’re lying,” he cut you off, his smile still evident.  
“Oh, this was such a mistake.”
He continued like you hadn’t spoken, laughing a little as he went. “I could practically hear it. It’s like, you know when a computer is trying to use too much processing power and the fan starts whirring really loud? Like that but just like right next to me, like tangible—“  
“Okay! Thank you so much, I actually totally got it, you can stop now.” 
He laughed, and your cheeks warmed. 
“For the record, I meant we could both stop overthinking.” Then he shifted a little, facing you a bit more. With the hand that wasn’t holding yours, he brushed a strand of hair from your face, a fake pout on his lips. “Sorry I make you nervous.” 
You cackled at that, if it was possible to cackle in hushed tones. “Oh, I bet you are. Besides, I know you like me now, so you’ve lost that card.” 
“Are you certain of that?” 
“Certain that you like me or certain that you can’t make me nervous?” 
“The latter. I do like you, if that was unclear.” 
Your heart sped up, contradicting you as you answered, “Then I’m certain you can’t make me nervous.” 
He titled your face up to his then, using his index finger underneath your chin to make you look at him. “You’re an awful liar.” 
You just shrugged, watching triumphantly as Spencer’s gaze fell to your lips.“It’s been working out pretty well for me so far.” 
“I guess it has,” he murmured, closing the distance between you and finally kissing you. 
After so many months of imagining (and berating yourself for imagining) what Spencer’s lips might feel like on yours, you weren’t disappointed. 
For once you didn’t have to think at all, the chemistry between you and him drowning out everything else. His hand fell to your waist, and yours moved to the curve of his jaw, pulling him closer as his mouth moved against yours. Your teeth grazed his bottom lip and he gasped, and your skin felt like it was lit up from the inside. 
You pulled away to breathe, and to process, and to try and stop your head from swimming. You were rewarded with the awestruck look in Spencer’s eyes as he opened them again. 
“Okay, was it just me, or–” 
“That was crazy,” you breathed.
“Crazy,” he agreed. 
“Spence?” 
“Yeah?” 
“I don’t think we’re getting back to sleep tonight.” Your eyes widened at the implication of saying those words at that time. “Not, like, in the sex way, though,” you hurried to correct yourself. “I need like, 4-5 business days to process things first, and I– well, I just meant, like– you know?” 
Spencer was nodding at you even as his eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “Can I still kiss you during those 4-5 business days?” 
“Oh, yeah,” you said, sounding breathless. 
“Cool,” he agreed. “You seem really nervous, by the way.” 
“Well, you kissed me.” 
“I did.”  
“How were you not nervous?” you breathed. 
“Oh, I was. Your reaction is making me feel a whole lot better about it though.” 
You scoffed half-heartedly. “I do so much for you.” 
“You do,” he replied earnestly, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “We could lie back down, if you want. Like we were before I so rudely woke you up.” 
“Yeah, I’m super mad about that,” you joked. “Anyway, I was asleep for that, so you’ll have to show me what I was doing.” 
He seemed all too pleased to do so. “Okay, so you were basically like,” he leaned back against the pillows, pulling you down with him, moving his hand to the side of your head to guide you to the place where his shoulder met his chest, “Like that, and then your arm was over here,” he picked up your arm and guided it around his waist. 
“Oh god, that’s so embarrassing,” you said, realizing that he must’ve been awake when you’d done it. 
“Yeah, I know. Really terrible time for me.” 
“I can imagine. I can scoot back over to my side of the bed, just say the word.” 
“Don’t you dare,” he said, squeezing you closer. 
You trailed your fingers up and down his waist, feeling more content than you had in ages. 
“I can’t believe you’d suggest that I would have sex with you right after confessing my feelings. Like, take me to dinner first at least.” 
“Oh my god,” you half-exclaimed, half-laughed. You felt your cheeks heat up again, grateful it was still too dark in the room to be noticeable. “You’re right, I’m so sorry. How’s next Friday?” 
“Hmm, I don’t know. My work schedule is kind of unpredictable. I’ll have to get back to you.” 
“You’re such an ass.” 
A few short hours later, you were back on the jet with the rest of the team. You were lying on the couch while Spencer sat in a seat one row up and across from you, both to avoid suspicion and so you could try to catch up on sleep. He sat facing away from you, but with the angle you were at you could still see one side of his face if you tilted your head up. 
You were just beginning to fade when your phone buzzed next to you. 
Spencer: I have to tell you something, coworker to coworker. 
You looked up to see him blank faced, looking down at the book in his right hand, holding his phone in the left. 
You text back: okay? 
Spencer: My crush asked me out last night. 
You’re exceptionally glad no one was sitting close enough to see you. Spencer had caught you off guard, and you felt an infatuated grin spreading across your face. 
You: what did u say? 
Spencer: Wanted to get your opinion first. 
You: i think u should say yes, obviously. 
Spencer: Idk, I’m kinda nervous. I think she’s trying to jump me on the first date.
You just barely managed to refrain from laughing out loud. You looked up at Spencer again, and he’s looking at his phone as if it contained nothing more than a weather report. You’re astounded. 
You: one could argue that technically you’ve already slept together, so there’s less to be nervous abt
You saw his eyebrows raise just slightly. Success. 
Spencer: You’re trouble, you know that? See you Friday night
You: i promise i won’t try to jump you 
Spencer: Oh
Spencer: I fear I may have shot myself in the foot here
You: i wouldn’t worry about it too much
Spencer: That’s rich coming from you 
You rolled your eyes even though he couldn't see you. 
You: whatever. wear something sexy ;) 
You heard him blow air out of his nose, an almost laugh. 
“Something funny?” you heard Derek ask. 
Shit. 
“This book contains a historical inaccuracy that was proven incorrect eight years before its publishing date,” Spencer replied without missing a beat. 
Unbelievable.
You: you’re unhinged :*
Spencer: Go to sleep already, would you? 
You: coworker to coworker? my crush keeps interrupting my beauty sleep 
Spencer: He’s probably worried about the worldwide implications of you becoming any more beautiful 
You: i guess that’s why the universe gave you insomnia :( too pretty 
Spencer: Stop flirting with me
You: bc you’re too delicate?? 
Spencer: Yes 
You snapped your phone shut, feeling dazed. You watched the clouds go by in the window across from you, and you couldn’t help letting your gaze slide over to Spencer. He’d put his phone down as well, concentrating on his book. Or pretending to concentrate. He was turning the pages much too slowly for his actual pace. 
You: you have got to do a better job of fake reading than that
You heard a page turn. 
You looked up again to see the ghost of a smile threatening the corner of his mouth. 
This was going to be fun. And also, you were so screwed. 
2K notes · View notes
talaok · 1 year
Text
Late night
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!reader
summary: Derek asks spencer about a late night he had.
warnings: mentions of smut, but just fluff
a/n:(obviously) I'm rewatching, and I got to episode 1x10 and I had to write about this scene(please tell me someone remembers it)
"Easy there tough guy, have some coffee with your sugar, "Derek said, a smirk appearing on his face as soon as he got a glimpse of the obscene amount of sweetener Spencer was putting in his coffee.
"I need something to wake me up" Spence explained, not showing signs of stopping.
He was tired,
God, he was tired,
He wasn't used to this, no, not at all,
and it wasn't like he was complaining, he had the time of his life last night,
He felt like he was dreaming, or hallucinating really,
it just didn't make any sense.
You didn't make any sense.
He was a nerd, a weirdo, a robot, things that until now, he had learned weren't appealing to the ladies,
but still,
there you were,
somehow interested in him,
enough to spend the night with him,
enough to let him get a mere 3 hours of sleep last night.
"late night?" Derek asked, grinning widely.
"very" Spencer couldn't help but smile, as flashbacks invaded his mind.
his mouth on yours, the taste of your tongue, the feel of his hands on you, of your soft skin, of your curves, the feel of you, and then finally of your voice, your sweet sweet voice murmuring his name, and moaning loudly into the thick air.
"my man" Derek said proudly, making Spencer cuss himself internally.
shit, that's right,
he wasn't supposed to know about it,
nobody was,
not until you knew what it was,
not until you were ready.
"not that kind of late night" he lied, and surprisingly, it was convincing, no pitching of the voice, or weird hand ticks, nothing, just his usual self.
"ok so tell me" Derek walked up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, and right at that moment, you entered the kitchen "what does keep young dr. Reid awake at night?"
You stopped in your tracks, your lips involuntarily twitching into a smile as you heard those words.
Spencer glanced at you, his cheeks immediately turning a brighter shade of pink,
"wait let me guess" Derek started, thankfully too deep into his thoughts to notice the not-so-subtle looks just exchanged "memorizing some obscure textbook?"
You bit down a grin, going to pour some coffee for yourself.
sure,
if by memorizing a textbook he meant every single inch of your body,
"no, no, no." Morgan waved his hands, correcting himself " working on cold fusion" he tried again
You had to bring the mug up to your mouth to cover the wide smile on your lips, as you looked at the scene, Spencer's cheeks continued to redden as he felt your eyes on him.
"no, I got it, I got it, I got it" Derek tried to guess again
"watching star trek and laughing at the physics mistakes"
You couldn't help it this time,
a small laugh escaped your throat, and you opened your mouth to justify yourself once both the men turned to look at you, but Spencer interrupted you "Actually, there aren't that many scientific errors in star trek, especially considering how long ago it was made. there are certain improbabilities, but not that many outright errors."
Morgan raised his eyebrows at you, his eyes expressing very clearly -this guy huh?-, and you smiled knowingly, your eyes, in turn, saying -I know, trust me I know-
Derek smiled at your expression before going back to Spence "Right" he said, patting his shoulder before leaving quickly, not wanting to hear one more second of his rambling.
You smiled, walking closer to the now-beaming man.
"so, late night huh?" you asked
"the best of my life"
9K notes · View notes
luveline · 16 days
Note
If you're taking request for Spencer and Bombshell!reader I think it would be so incredibly adorable if they were both on the way to a case (or coming back) and their little baby Amanda was face timing them to say hi to them and the team 🥺🥺
“Video call for you, momma,” Penelope says, plonking a laptop down onto the desk in front of you, and then quickly being called away by Emily for help.
You ditch your pen immediately, nail scratching the laptop trackpad as you slide the cursor to ACCEPT. 
Amanda’s face fills the screen, a shy smile like her dad’s close to the camera, her eyes almost cut off by the top of the screen. 
“Amy, babe, you’re too close to the computer! I can’t see your lovely face.” 
Amy sits back in her chair. “Is this okay?” 
You take her in. You trust your babysitter to take good care of her, but nothing is as reassuring as seeing her unhurt and smiling. “Hi, baby.” 
“Hi mommy,” she greets. “Where’s daddy?” 
“He’s in the bathroom. Be back any minute. Are you being a good girl for Mrs. Gamorrah? How’s your tummy?” 
“I’m being good,” she says, ignoring the important question, “did you see my t-shirt?” She brings her shirt closer to the camera. She’s wearing her favourite pyjamas with the butterflies she had for her birthday, “Look, Mrs. Gamorrah got the soup stain gone.” 
You beam at her. You miss her like crazy when you’re not there. You and Spencer take turns staying home most of the time, and so being apart from her and knowing she doesn’t have Spencer to soften your absence makes it easier to worry about her, and harder to concentrate on the work. 
The door opens. You twist your head. 
Spencer’s drying his hands on a paper towel. “Is that Amy?” 
“Quick, she wants to see you.” 
Spencer hurries to the laptop, bending at the waist to see the screen and his impatient daughter. 
“Amy!” he says, like she’s the only person he’s ever wanted to see, voice enthused with his most dad-appropriate saccharine. “Hi, bunny, hi, hello. I miss you so much, are you okay? I miss you.” 
You tap his leg gently. Calm down. 
“Daddy, I am so happy, and I miss you too! We’re doing pictures.” She holds up a sheet of paper covered in crayon drawings. “Are you okay too?” 
“I’m great now I’m seeing you. I really miss you, sweetheart, I’m sorry we’re both away at work.” 
“It’s okay. Me and Mrs. Gamorrah are gonna have pizza and jiffy pop and soda tonight. It would be good with you, but it’s still fun.” 
“That’s good,” you say, putting your hand on the keys, wishing you could feel her soft arm in your hand, stroke her silken forehead. “We’re gonna be home soon. Maybe even tomorrow.” 
Spencer wraps his arm behind your shoulder. “Me and mom miss you so so much, and we’re so proud of you being a good girl at home. We’re gonna bring you a big present for being by yourself.” 
“I’m not by myself, dad, I have Mrs. Gamorrah. Plus, Uncle Morgan said he wants to take me and Hank swimming on Sunday.” 
“I’m sure we’ll be home before Sunday.” You smother your frown. Spencer kisses your cheek. 
“Give one for me, dad!” 
Spencer kisses you again. “That one good enough?” he asks. 
“Another one!” 
When you get home, you’re gonna spoil the death out of her. Like, worse than you’ve ever spoiled her before. Spencer presses another great kiss to your cheek and smushes your faces together, Amy on the screen reaching for you both for a ghost hug. “I wanted to say hi before we go to the store. Can I call you again before bed?” 
“Yeah, baby, call again!” You rush to answer. “Call daddy’s phone, okay? Mine’s not working right. I’ll answer you, we’ll talk all about your day. Okay? I miss you very much.” 
“I miss you too. Bye bye.” 
“Okay, bye bye,” you say, “I love you.” 
“Love you, Amanda,” Spencer says. 
She waves her little hand until it looks like it might fall off of her wrist. Spencer waves back just as hard.
863 notes · View notes
007reid · 6 months
Note
request for reader having dated spencer (early seasons) and then she finds out what happened w lila </3
hi hi hi!! sorry this took a while hun :( you were vague with your req so i just wrote whatever i wanted to write and because of that i meant for this to be a drabble but it didn't work out that way... enjoy!
secrets. spencer reid
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part 1 | part 2
pairing: spencer reid x jealous fem!reader, 1.8k
summary: spencer will never be able to escape the effortless wrath of derek morgan, not even when it's the weekends and breaking bad is playing and you're pulling on his hair.
warnings: no smut you filthy animals, though i did intend there to be smut im just in a fluffy mood rn :// tiny angst if you squint, spencer's blushin a LOT, morgan's evil, bickering and just cutesy couple stuff. me when.
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spencer’s secret was the last thing that you were, and you know this.
you and spencer have been dating for three months now, not including the two months talking stage because spencer is deadly afraid of commitment, and between all that time, you’d say you’ve gotten to know spencer pretty well. you know him well enough to trust that he knows what’s best, anyway. it’s been three months, and spencer hasn’t uttered a word about you to his team, his family, and you understand why.
really. you do.
“they’ll never let me live in down,” spencer had whined, one person imminent on his mind. derek fucking morgan. spencer dreads just thinking about it, the teasing, the inappropriate jokes, the winks and the whistles. it’s dehumanizing. “when someone ask me or mention something about it, i will tell them. until then…”
the unspoken reason was there. spencer’s a talker, definitely a talker, but he doesn’t spend much time talking about himself. he never reveals a bit of himself unless he’s directly asked it, and he feels uncomfortable sharing otherwise. the team’s too used to spencer being physically and emotionally repellent to the female race to really ask about stuff like you anymore, and spender’s not too eager to share neither. not out of the blue. it’s unlike him. this you understand. 100%. locked safely in the noggin.
you never think much about it anyway. it doesn’t bother you. what bothers you, though, is secrets.
you know spencer has loads of those, tucked behind that carefree and open-hearted smile and attitude of his. you examine him carefully, searching his face for ticks—okay, maybe you were just looking really creepily because he’s pretty and you try to commit every feature into memory but you are, searching for ticks that is.
you know he hides things. somethings not worth bringing up again because it’ll only bring up bad memories. some other things, however, definitely worth mentioning again. you just have to find the right target questions. sometimes it feels like you’re dating a stranger, with how little you know about spencer’s life. sometimes it feels like you’re dating the love of your life. it’s all very relative.
you and spencer are cuddled up on the couch, breaking bad playing on the tv. it’s one of the shows spencer doesn’t like pointing out the scientific inaccuracies of because he’s too fond of the main character to really say that he’s wrong, and sometimes you miss his voice chiming in between all the movie’s dialogues, but you think the reason why he’s quiet today is because he’s not in the mood to talk. the last case’s gotten him pretty shaken up, and he’s still healing, head in your neck every night and when he pulls away your skin is damp with tears.
“you okay spence?” you say, moving your hand to tangle your fingers in his hair. he hums softly, and then you both suddenly hear the vibration from under your asses. spencer shifts around, digging his phone out from where it’s lodged in a random cushion of the sofa.
he groans inwardly, showing you the screen, not having to explain. in big letters, the caller says: bau--derek morgan.
“he usually never calls me on weekends,” spencer frowns, watching the phone vibrate. “you think i should answer?”
“he’s a friend,” you say, tucking a stray strand of hair under his ear. “answer him.”
“okay,” spencer says hesitantly, then swipes the green button on his screen. he clears his throat as the call connects. “you’re on speaker,” he warns, looking at you anxiously and then back to his phone again. morgan’s a wildcard, and spencer would have to hide his face everyday for the next three weeks in front of you if morgan happens to drop something embarrassing about him just out of pocket. spencer isn’t ready.
“not like there’s anyone with you to hear,” morgan scoffs, and didn’t let spencer answer before continuing. “the team’s planning on a bar night tomorrow—“
“the team?” spencer questions, suspicious. morgan sighs loudly.
“garcia and i,” he corrects reluctantly, “are planning for a team bonding night tomorrow. what do you say?”
“no.” spencer says immediately, looking at you and hope you get his unspoken answer. spencer never goes out on weekends, not unless it’s with you. with his highly demanding schedule at the bau, it’s rare that he has any time off at all, and it’s hard to maintain a healthy relationship that way. any time he gets to spend time with you he’d take.
“come on,” morgan says, enthusiastically. “when was the last time you properly went out, huh?”
“last month, when you and garcia planned another of these team bonding bar nights,” spencer says monotonously. he rolls his eyes. “morgan—“
“don’t be rolling your eyes at me now, genius,” morgan warns. you stifle a laugh, and spencer sends you a wounded look. you forget that they’re basically family, like siblings to knows each other to a tee. “listen, have some fun in your life. who knows, maybe we can find you another lila at the bar.” morgan’s tone is suggestive. and now, that got your full, undivided attention.
and spencer, predictably, looks like a deer caught in the headlights, looking at you in horror was you narrow your eyes at his screen. you prod at his leg, prompting him to answer so morgan can elaborate.
lila?
“i don’t think—“ spencer starts, but got immediately cut off.
“don’t lie and say you didn’t like it, lover boy,” morgan whistles and spencer cringes. “now that we’re talking about lila, actually—“ spencer’s mind is screaming, shut up shut up shut up! as morgan proceeds to feed you more information, completely oblivious to his sins. “do you guys still keep in touch? she looked pretty into you. never knew you had it in you til then, man--”
by now spencer’s beet red head to ears to toe and you can feel the heat radiating off of him, but also off of yourself. you’d say you’re a jealous woman. not too jealous but definitely not not jealous.
“morgan,” spencer starts again, voice a little wobbly and embarrassed and morgan laughs.
“seriously though, do you guys still talk? them eyes never lie,” and morgan sounds so casual, so nonchalant while destroying spencer’s life.
it’s not that spencer doesn’t want you to know about lila. he couldn’t careless if lila waltz into his life right now because he knows they would be nothing more than friends—you’re all he’s ever wanted and he would trade you for nothing. it’s just embarrassing, is all, him being exposed like this, and he feels smaller, feels like he’s actually 5’3 with the glare you’re sending him.
“anyway, that don’t matter,” morgan remains completely ignorant and in his own world and still on speaker. oh morgan. “i want to see you at our bar tomorrow. it’s a yes, right? good. i’ll tell garcia you said yes.”
“morgan!” spencer says quickly. “i have a gir—“
morgan hangs up.
spencer dreads looking at you, so he takes his time getting out the app and then clears all of the background apps on his phone. he doesn’t like seeing you mad and he can basically sense it, the fumes blowing out your ears.
“who’s lila?” you say casually and he looks up. he doesn’t mistake your tone for friendliness, your eyes are narrow and suspicious.
“someone on a case a while ago,” spencer responds honestly. because that’s all there was to lila. it’s not like he’s never had his first kiss before her, so she doesn’t even count as his first kiss (she’s his second) and other than that minute-long moment they shared there was nothing else remarkable. she just happens to the only girl the team knows about who’s spencer been involved with and they are encouraging to help him find another ‘lila.’
it’s all very complicated. and humiliating. he should’ve definitely told you the entire backstory beforehand, because it’s not scandalous or weird or anything. it’s innocent and harmless. but now the problem seems to be blown out of proportion.
“just someone?” you press. spencer hesitates. he hates lying, especially when he’s lying to you. his hesitation gives you all the answer you needed.
“we kissed once,” he says, and gawks at you for approval, for forgiveness. “but that was it. i swear.”
something awful bubbles in your stomach. you know spencer’s not lying, and it’s not worth getting upset with him about because it’s all in the past—it’s not like you go talking about your precious conquests to spencer anyway. but you can’t help the envy and jealousy boiling so hotly it makes you dizzy.
spencer feels obliged to fill you in, to patch up the little bump and to get back the sweet atmosphere that was before morgan called. he knew morgan would somehow manage to ruin his life in some kind of way. he knew it before he even accepted his call.
“she was an actress in this case we were working on and she just, i think, really liked me or something and she was in a pool when i came to see her just to ask some questions and she just pulled me—“
his rant got interrupted by you seizing him to a rough kiss, hands coming up to rest behind the nape of his neck and nails unconsciously digging into his skin. spencer remains mostly unresponsive and soft, surprised and don't know how to respond. you keep prying, teeth digging into the soft of his bottom lip and spencer starts nipping at you back, gentle like he always is.
it frustrates you, how hard it is to be frustrated at spencer. you pull away from him and spencer tilts his head curiously, lip shiny and eyes looking at you like he's never seen you before and he just looks so sweet, so innocent and eager, like a precious pup. you roll your eyes, swatting at his chest, annoyance and jealousy and anger evaporating from you like a cloud.
spencer licks his lips and you collapse back into him again, returning to the position you were before morgan so unmindfully interrupted your weekend. breaking bad continues to play on the tv. long limbs wraps around you and spencer presses a kiss in your hair.
"i'm not going tomorrow," he declares.
"you should," you say nonchalantly. you cuddle up closer to him, turning around until the both of your are facing each other, wiggling your way on top. you begin to trace stars on the exposed skin of his shoulder. "and maybe you should bring someone with you. just to act as a guard for future lila's. maybe you can introduce that person too," you flick your hair behind your back and shrugs at spencer's amused smile. "it's just a thought."
"okay," he says quietly, eyes so soft. "okay. who do you suggest i bring?"
"that's for you to figure out, doctor reid," you say flippantly, turning back to the tv. "now shush."
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lis-likes-fics · 3 months
Text
The Sound of His Voice
Pairings: Spencer Reid x agent!Reader Word Count: 3k words Warnings: Descriptions of crime scenes/vague gore, mentions of death and murder, standard Criminal Minds stuff, fluff otherwise... A/N: I started watching CM a while ago and now I can't stop so enjoy this. There will be more, I dunno when. (Should I be working on my months-in-progress-wips? Yes, I absolutely should. Am I? Mostly. I'm trying my best)
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Morgan rubs his temple, digging his fingers into the side of his forehead as he shakes his head. Tapping his pen on the desk, he tosses down his file. “But here's what I don't get,” he says, drawing the attention of the rest of the team. “If the unsub thinks of his victims as prey, even going as far as to torture the victim, why go through all the trouble of tucking them into bed?”
Hotch looks back at the picture in his own hands, where he had been analyzing the scene for the hundredth time in search of something he missed the first hundred. He shrugs, “Tucking them in can usually indicate signs of remorse.”
JJ motions to the pictures. “Yeah, but look at this guy. Does this look remorseful to you?”
You lift a shoulder, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms. “Could be a second unsub.”
You are a relatively new addition to the team. It was your fifth case with them, but they already treated you like part of the team, like family. It was easy to sink into the ebb and flow of everything, especially when they trust your skills and instincts and let you know when you're doing something wrong so you know not to do it again.
But this case was difficult. Your unsub had a strange profile: an organized, white male, with surgical experience and the MO reminiscent of a cat. He kills men and women alike, and the only connection between his victims have been their smaller statures.
The age range itself was too wide, though there was a slight reoccurrence of ages between 25 and 35. But it was still too wide, either way, not enough to work with.
He ties up and tortures them before finally ending their lives with strangulation. He uses his bare hands to get the job done, which makes him a sexual sadist. As if that wasn't enough, he carves out the victim’s heart after death and takes it as a trophy.
He shows plenty of psychopathic characteristics, but he also fits the profile of a sociopath, so it's hard to make anything stick. His MO suggests a lack of empathy and guilt, but the bed-tucking… You always lose him with the bed-tucking…
Morgan shakes his head a little, humming. “But we already ruled out multiple unsubs,” he says. You nod gently. “Besides, if this guy is mimicking the hunting habits of a cat, he would hunt alone, wouldn't he?”
Reid’s head perks up. He points a pen in Morgan's direction as he shakes his head. “Actually, no.” He licks his lips, and he's grabbed your attention like a siren to a sailor. “It's a very common misconception that cats are loners, but it's untrue. Cats prefer the companionship of others just as much as a human being would.”
You lean toward him a bit across the table, watching him as he speaks, his hands moving to illustrate his words as he does. “People often think, because of their aloof nature, that they like to be left alone or actually despise the presence of other people, including their owners or other cats—which is why people believe them to be low maintenance creatures. But they are just as social as, say, a dog. Actually, it's interesting, big cats like lions, or sometimes even cheetahs, hunt in packs to take down larger prey. Domestic cats–”
“Reid,” Morgan interrupts, making a cutting motion with his hand to his neck.
Your eyes turn back to Spencer, who seems to retreat in on himself a bit as he gives an apologetic smile and a small nod. “Sorry,” he says, pulling his lips in a wide smile.
You set a hand on the table, shaking your head. “No, keep going. That was interesting.”
Spencer looks at you with these eyes that seem to shine. Your heart feels fonder, warmer, at the sight of him.
“We really don't have time to go through all of this,” Hotch says, his tone final.
“I mean,” you continue. Since joining the team, you've grown a certain affinity toward Spencer and his genius mind. Every time he's gone on his tangents, you've become enchanted by the words coming out of his mouth like he's put some sort of spell over you. You lift a shoulder, gesturing toward him. “If this guy is basing his MO off the hunting patterns of cats, we should…know everything we need to know about them, right?”
Hotch looks at you, his face hard and unreadable. You're unsure if he's considering your proposal or just trying to intimidate you. But then he sighs, his crossed arms loosening a little as he turns to Spencer.
“Reid?”
Spencer looks between you and Hotch, relenting hesitantly as he starts off slow. “Well…I was going to say domestic cats are solitary hunters but sociable creatures.” He picks up his normal speed once more, “They can be very affectionate, especially toward their owners and other cats within their households. They're also one of the only types of cats who play with their prey before killing them, which could be a reason this unsub tortures his victims so extensively in his murders.”
“Wait…” Prentiss says, catching all of your attentions. “You said ‘affectionate toward their owners’.”
“Yeah,” Spencer nods.
She waves her hands gently, “How do cats show affection for their owners?”
Spencer shrugs, “Um, bunting, purring, some scratch, sometimes they leave offerings, like dead rodents, around the house–”
“Right there!” Prentiss exclaims. “They leave offerings.”
You sit up, “The hearts.”
Hotch’s dark brows furrow. “You're saying this unsub is taking the hearts as an offering to someone else?”
Spencer thinks over that, nodding. “It's possible.”
JJ sighs. “But that still doesn't explain why we wouldn't have identified a second unsub earlier.”
Spencer holds out a hand, pointing with his pen. “Actually, it could. You see, cats also have the tendency to mimic the people they hold affection for. We might not have noticed a second MO because the submissive unsub may be mimicking the dominant one.”
“Or learning from him,” Morgan says.
“Learning?” Hotch asks.
Morgan glances around, “Well, if we're sticking so close to this cat thing, older cats often nurture the young and teach them to hunt.” He shrugs, “We could be looking at…brothers? Older and younger?”
“Or lovers,” JJ suggests. She points to a picture, the image of a chest carefully carved open to reveal a missing heart. “If the hearts are offerings, it could be a Valentine.”
“And the bed-tucking?” you ask.
Hotch picks up the picture of one of the victims, “safely” and securely tucked into bed…put to sleep. “Well, if the hearts are offerings for a lover, this unsub is sentimental. He could feel some type of sympathy or guilt for the victim and want to ‘put them to sleep’ after the torture.” He studies the image, a flash of unease behind his eyes that you know all too well. He sets it down.
“Okay, so how do we find them?” Prentiss asks, clicking her pen before setting it down to begin a definitive course of action.
Spencer points to yet another picture. “Look at these injuries. These incisions are surgical,” he clarifies. “So the dominant is a doctor or a—a veterinarian, which can be implied through his intimate knowledge of cats’ behaviors.”
“And the submissive might work under him as a nurse or an assistant,” you continue, adding on to his clever insight. He glances over at you, smiling almost giddily at your understanding.
Hotch turns to Morgan. “Do you think that's enough to work with?”
Morgan thinks for a moment, his shrug melding into a nod as he turns back to Hotch. “To fit in with the rest of the profile,” he hums, “I'd say so.”
“Okay.” Hotch nods firmly. “We'll present the profile ASAP. Morgan, get Garcia to search for any vets in the area with any records of assault charges.” He says this all while taking long strides toward the door, his red tie bouncing slightly with his movements.
Prentiss follows him with her gaze as he exits. “You think the unsub is aggressive?”
He turns briefly. “Look at the bruising on the neck. The torture alone is an indicator of anger and frustration, but the way the victim was strangled suggests force. Much more than necessary just to crush a windpipe. He's an organized killer with a lot of rage. If he moves more along the lines of a sociopath, our best guess is he's had some kind of trouble with the law at some point in his life,” he concludes. Glancing aside, he speaks again, a little more firmly. “Morgan.”
“On it,” he says, his phone already ready to contact Garcia on speed dial.
“And Reid,” Hotch says, focusing his hard stare on the younger agent.
He stiffens, straightening his back and awaiting his response. “Yes?”
There's a pause as Hotch examines him silently. With a single nod, he says, “Good work.”
He glances at you. A nod.
You nod back.
Hotch leaves in a hurry, and your gaze immediately and instinctively flicks to Spencer. He smiles at you, turning away as though he was shyly hiding that same smile.
~
There were two unsubs: a surgical veterinarian and his nurse. You caught them just in time, just as that knife was gleaming in the golden light of the lamps swinging above the three bodies down in the basement of the submissive unsub’s house.
And now you soared 40,000 feet above the ground with another killer put away for good.
Everyone's in their own spirit, placing you across the aisle from JJ and Spencer in their own booths, a crochet set in your lap as you continue one of your projects. Emily's eyes linger on JJ, watching the crease of her brow as she studies case files.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks, setting her book to the side to shift her attention. Derek darts his eyes up from his own book, lifting his brow as he does it.
JJ looks up, breathing in and lifting her shoulder in a half shrug. “I don't know about you,” she says, “but I know that if I got an actual human heart on Valentine's Day, me and my alleged partner would have some serious issues.”
Snorts and chuckles lift from multiple places among the seats, heads shaking and attentions shifting back to their own activities.
But as soon as you hear the first lilt of Spencer's voice, like clockwork, you're a fish on a hook.
“Actually,” he begins, “if we were set back thousands of years, that would not be a very unusual occurrence.” He licks his lips quickly, “You see, Valentine's Day’s origins actually go back to a festival called Lupercal, or Lupercalia. The festival was in itself a very violent and sexually charged affair that lasted roughly three days—from the 13th to the 15th—set in Rome. Its traditions were carried out in two separate locations, firstly–”
“Alright,” JJ rises to her feet, her eyes wide in annoyance as she closes her case file in a large announcement to Spencer. “I'm getting coffee. Do you want anything?”
Spencer purses his lips, that same wide, apologetic grin covering his face as he leans back in his seat and shakes his head. “Uh, no. All good here.”
She nods, turning to walk away, “Great.”
You watch JJ leave, your eyes fall back upon Spencer, who's pulling his book back into his palms to turn his focus back on the pages. His eyes flit over the words at lightning speed, absorbing the information and moving to the next.
Taking your crochet set in your hands, you stand and plop down in JJ’s old spot. Spencer's eyes darts up to you, glancing between you and his book as you set your stuff down and readjust your yarn.
Beginning again, you nod toward him. “You were saying?”
Spencer, his eyes wide and confused and his lips parted in wonder and his cheeks a little pink, stares at you. After remembering he had to respond, he sputters in an attempt to.
“Uh, it's-it's really not that…interesting,” he mumbles, trailing off at the end as he sets his book down, his fingertips pressing against the edge of the desk between the both of you.
“Well,” you look up at him, setting your elbow on the table and tucking your first underneath your chin, “I was very interested.”
His Adam's apple bobs when he swallows. His lips form the word before it comes out of his mouth. “You were?”
You nod, “Mhm.”
Looking at him for a moment—just looking at him for a moment—you take in the pretty sight of his bewildered expression, fascination and confusion and excitement crossing his face in a flurry of emotion.
You move your elbow from the table and pick up your hook, nodding toward him before training your eyes on your work again as you await his words. “Firstly?” you prompt.
Scrambling to organize his thoughts, Spencer nods. As the words form in his brain, he smiles as he thrusts himself into another rant, speaking a little softer so as not to aggravate the rest of the team.
“Well, firstly, the uh— The-the first location was in a cave called Lupercus—named after the Roman fertility god that the celebration was dedicated to—and the second is a public meeting place called the Comitium.”
You tilt your head toward him, smiling a little. “Like the word ‘committee’.”
“Exactly like the word ‘committee’,” he beams.
Your attention, as hard as you tried to split it, becomes entirely caught up in Spencer as you forget about your project and focus your gaze entirely on him. You set your arms on the table separating you and watch as he speaks, your smile definitely too love-sick to be a hint anymore. He seems to lean in closer.
“So how did Lupercalia become Valentine's Day?” you wonder aloud.
“Well,” he starts, prompting a larger grin from you, “in the late 5th century A.D., Pope Gelasius I eliminated it and declared February 14th a day to celebrate the martyrdom of Saint Valentine instead—although it's highly unlikely he intended the day to commemorate love and passion as it is celebrated now. In fact, some modern biblical scholars warn Christians not to celebrate Valentine's Day at all, due to its Pagan roots and rituals.”
You hum, your eyes taking glances at the stretch of his skin over his fingers and the way they move when he speaks.
“Do you celebrate Valentine's Day?” you ask gently, speaking slowly.
His hands fall back down to his lap, and he shakes his head as he straightens his posture a bit. “Well…I don't usually have anyone to celebrate it with, so… No, not really.”
Feeling the shyness slipping into your veins, you set your hands on the table and let your fingers slowly inch toward him, staring at them inside of his eyes. You don't want to see the rejection if it lives there, in his eyes.
You speak slowly, emphasizing every syllable. “Would you like to have someone to celebrate it with?”
He swallows thickly, letting one hand lift onto the table, still close to him but building up courage to maybe meet you in the middle. “Like…” he clears his throat quietly. “Like you?”
You offer a right smile, finally flicking your eyes up to meet his and feeling giddy at the light blush on his cheeks, the nervous wideness of his gaze. “I promise no actual hearts.”
You watch him, and again…his eyes, his Adam's apple, his cheeks, his lips. “Uh…yeah,” he stutters. “Yeah, sure. I'll be your…your Valentine.”
You smile, a wide smile that splits your face in two. Spencer's own grin follows suit. Looking past you, he catches the eyes of Derek, who smirks and offers a cheesy thumbs up, proud of him for securing you as he did.
His gaze falls back to you when you begin to speak, your voice just as song-ish to him as his is to you. You're both equally as infatuated as the other. “You know,” you trail off slowly, “supposedly, Saint Valentine might be so commonly associated with our day of love because there are rumors that he used to perform secret weddings against the wishes of the authorities in the third century.”
He nods slowly, his brows furrowed slightly. “Yes, that's right…” Licking his bottom lip, he speaks again. “You already knew all that stuff about Lupercalia, didn't you?”
You smile, your face squished a bit as you raise your hands and close your thumb and forefinger close together. “Maybe a little,” you whisper. But then you shrug and just keep looking at him. “But I like listening to you talk.”
Spencer suddenly doesn't think you're real, but he isn't about to question it if you aren't. There's someone who enjoys his tangents. He isn't going to jeopardize that.
“Oh,” is all he says.
With your crocheting long forgotten, you lean forward on the table and give him every ounce of attention in your mind. With a fond smile on your lips and a twinkle in your eye, you rest your chin on your folded hands. “You should tell me about…” you pause, thinking, before you smile curls even more, “bees.”
His brows lift as he nods. “Okay, well,” he starts, “did you know the first civilization to practice widespread, organized beekeeping was the Ancient Egyptians, who began beekeeping around 2,500 BCE?”
Your brows lift in fascination. You shake your head, “No, I didn't.”
His smile grows. “Well…”
For the remainder of the flight, Spencer talks and talks and talks, his voice quiet and meant solely for you as he talks about whatever you want: bees and wine and marbles and Halloween. He keeps smiling at you, as you keep smiling at him. Somewhere along the way, he officially asks you on a date, and you both get off the jet together to get a cup of coffee.
You love the way he talks.
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kisses4reid · 29 days
Text
convenient pt.4 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,
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pt. 3 (you cannot read this without prior reading)
summary - you don’t need help with your biology anymore, you need help understanding the chemistry that seems to be growing between you and spencer.
warnings - jealousy, dickhead guy, unwanted flirting, awkward spencer, mentions of getting run over and pouring rain, studying.
genre - college!fem!reader x earlyseasons!spencer, fluff, angst if you squint, jealousy trope
a/n - i hope you all enjoy this part. comment or put in a req to be added to the convenience taglist, if you’ve already asked and i haven’t mentioned you please message orso i can make sure you’re on my list for the next part! love you all 🫶
sat in a plush office chair, in a cool room, in a comfortable dress shirt, surrounded by the people he trusted most, spencer couldn’t seem to live in the moment.
now that’s not something you would suggest to the man when he’s sat in front of multiple gruesome photos and case files, usually he would be 100% focused, no bullshit, no wandering thoughts.
but suddenly he felt light, airy, like these cases were just another day and he would be confident either way. it wasn’t completely untrue, but it was odd. everyone else seemed to notice.
“spencer, are you okay?” aaron hotchner startled the man with his stern and concerned voice, everyone looking up at spencer as a natural reaction. spencer looked around the table, noticing a growing grin between garcia and morgan.
hotch continued, “if you need to sit this one out, by all means.”
spencer shook his head and adjusted his posture, picking up a profile to skim over. there was a small giggle from garcia that brought the attention of aaron.
“what’s going on?”
“reid’s distracted because of a certain someone…” morgan replied, biting the end of his ballpoint pen. garcia slapped his shoulder.
“don’t tease him, meanies. keep going, hotch.”
they were right. he was distracted and felt far away most of the time. he wanted to go somewhere comfortable, like a convenience store with a pretty employee to talk to.
ricky, a handsome guy a few years older than you, was annoying logan with questions he could’ve answered himself. he tagged along with logan to your weekend study session at a small cafe not far from the college. the tall man was mostly agreeable, except for his apparent obsession with straight black coffee. he had had two cups of it already.
“so, y/n. what do you study? wait don’t tell me. nursing, because you seem to be healing my broken heart. psychology, because you’re making me crazy? or is it music, because your voice is like a song?” he leaned forward from across the table, disregarding the punch in the shoulder from logan. you only glared and returned to your expensive textbooks, leaving your drink to turn cold in its abandonment.
“don’t try anything, ricky. she’s basically taken.” she warned with a smirk. you lifted your gaze and rolled your eyes,
“you’re nonsensical. you’ve had too much coffee,” you stop filling out a questionnaire, “he’s not even that… he’s… ugh, i don’t know.” you place your pen down and stretch in the stiff wooden chair.
ricky laughs, clapping his hands together, “okay so you totally have a crush on a guy.”
“i do not.”
“i guess i’ll back off with my advances, unlessss, you truly don’t have a crush on your lover boy?”
“i do not- but still please back off, you’re gross.”
logan and ricky shared a glance and went back to their work silently. like they knew something you didn’t. your brain had turned stuffy, you need to get some air, you needed to get away from the truth.
garcia and morgan appeared so suddenly spencer thought turbulence had pushed them into their seats in front of him. his gaze snapped from the airplane wing to their two giddy faces and immediately knew what this conversation was going to be about. it only made him a little bit uncomfortable, these types of conversations. girls, flirting, being happy around someone he doesn’t work with, it was all unfamiliar. it seemed he chose the best people to talk about it to though; garcia had given him a little too much information about his crush from her unwanted snooping, and in the process morgan was also given all of this information.
“yes, okay, i told derek all about your girl but i couldn’t help it! he’s very persuasive!” garcia pouted. spencer thinned his lips and nodded, expecting a surge of conversation but he was only met with silence. morgan and garcia shared a glance.
“look, spencer. we’re only doing this to distract ourselves from the case we just closed, and to help you. if you don’t want help, if you think this… thing, will die out, then tell us. but, if you do want some adviceee…” morgan spoke smoothly, quiet enough to avoid attention from anyone else.
when spencer stayed silent, thinking about how he could never use you as a distraction, morgan whispered, “if nothings happening, you gotta light the match.”
you were standing on an uneven step ladder when the doorbell rang with 10 minutes to closing. you rolled your eyes, thinking you’d have to stay even later because of this customer. but your demise quickly turned to calmness, a little bit of panic, when spencer appeared in the entry way.
you nearly fell off the ladder, dropping the pile of juice boxes in your hands onto the floor. you cursed under your breath, watching from above as spencer picked them up for you.
“thank you.”
there was no need for formalities anymore, it was like you had known each other forever. spencer was silent again, it was becoming his thing.
you clear your throat, “i changed my medication.”
he glanced at you, brown eyes observing your tired expression. he came here unconsciously. he had already had some take out, he didn’t need any coffee, and his fruit bowl was stocked to the brim. spencer walked to this convenience store, the result of the action being evident through the pain in his feet.
the phone in your back pocket caught spencer’s attention, before he promptly looked elsewhere to avoid looking like a creep.
“good, im glad.”
are we really back to this? was one awkward conversation all we needed to go back to strangers?
you stepped down, “no more bruises.”
spencer placed his fingers delicately on his healed cheek, holding back a smile that you actually remembered that.
he asked, “who’s texting you so much?” without much thought. he didn’t think about how it sounded, like he was protective or worried, or what it implied. he didn’t even have your number, why should he be so upset?
“oh it’s just logan and ricky.” you replied simply, folding up the ladder and glancing at the clock placed above the register desk, “are you getting anything?”
because it didn’t seem weird if he came here for you instead of his groceries.
“like your brother, ricky?”
there was a small match burning in his stomach at the sound of those names. he felt like taking your phone and snooping until he reached the end, until his fingers hurt. spencer felt like asking intrusive questions, before he bit his lips to stop himself.
you made notice of his hands fiddling in his pant pockets, rolling your eyes. that made his tongue slip.
“how many guys do you know?”
you looked at him with surprise, walking over to the register, “you think i’m a whore?”
spencer’s heart skipped a beat, “no not at all, i just- i didn’t word that right.”
you shook your head and laughed quietly, starting to count the change sat on your swivel chair. something was off. the street was empty. “did you walk here, spencer?”
spencer’s breath hitched. oh god, were the only words circling in his brain. when you used his name, it was different. this was weird, he needed to get out of there.
you looked so effortless. he looked so anxious.
“yeah. i did.”
you nod, “okay, you can help me lock up then.” you pass him a set of keys for the window covers, and add, “you can walk me home, to make up for the other day.”
spencer nods with a small smile and begins locking up.
you lead the way out of the store and around the corner to a set of traffic lights. the streets are silent and misty, but neither of you felt the need to jay walk in an attempt to speed up this process of awkward walking.
spencer watches you from his advantage point. at how you bite the inside on your lips, how you look at the concrete pathway.
“what’s wrong?” you don’t react, instead push the pedestrian button and sigh.
“it’s monday, spencer. you were going to ‘retry’, ‘be better’? i’m not 100% sure what you meant by that, but you said that right after you told me you were going to ask me out so.”
spencer gulps and nods, hands going back to their safe space in his pockets. “yeah, i said that. but i’m going to have to delay that again. this isn’t really,” he motioned towards the weeds, litter, and flickering street lights with his eyes, and you nod with a smirk.
“romantic?”
“romantic.”
you smile at each other, and for a second he’s utterly entranced before a wave of wind and tires pass him. before a soft hand is hard on his upper arm. his eyes trailed the car, heart beating nearly as hard as it does when he looks at you.
“jesus, are you okay?” you asked worried, and when he nods with a simple stare accompanying it, you look away.
light a match.
you hand leaves him quicker than it got there.
in front of your apartment building, you notice logan’s window alight behind white curtains, and turn to face spencer.
“thank you for walking me home. i would invite you in but it’s 1:20am and i don’t really… know you.”
spencer furrows his eyebrows slightly, looking at you expectantly. your faces turns cold, slightly sorrowful.
“spencer, i don’t know you. i know things about you but i don’t actually know you.” you yawn, wiping a hand over your eyes, “maybe i’m just tired and overworked and…” logan’s voice echoes through your head as you look over the tall, tired and handsome man in front of you, “if you’re not going to ask me out first i’m going to ask you out. so, make a decision.”
it felt wrong being so stubborn and solid with him, but with school and family stress you truly didn’t need any unknown feelings to topple on as well.
spencer was taken aback. he didn’t know one couple where the girl asked out the guy, he didn’t know someone could like him that badly. he didn’t know what to say.
“goodnight, spencer. i’ll see you.”
you turned and pushed on the pull door, before pulling on it. heart thumping in your ears, you slowly held a hand over your mouth, impressed with yourself.
but you lied, you weren’t going to ask him out. you have no idea how to ask someone out.
the convenience store wasn’t so lonely tonight.
logan was arguing with ricky over his choice in deodorant almost louder than the terrible radio music playing throughout the store.
the beating of rain was creating a calming background to this chaos, as well as keeping customers away. all but one, of course.
spencer had an excuse, he was supposed to bring food for the team tomorrow, and this was the closest store. totally. but as he stood under the cover of the stores overhead steel, he felt another match being burnt in the bottom of his stomach.
a tall and toned man with bright blonde hair was leaning over your register and talking to you, making you smile and laugh. your arms were crossed, you were leaned away and you avoided eye contact, but spencer didn’t see any of these signs as the waves of jealousy drowned him.
spencer looked out onto the street. he had no right to feel that way, this was his own fault. he felt even weirder and out of place than he usually felt.
the doorbell rang and your fake smile turned real. logan watched from the toilet spray section and smirked when she recognised the purple-sweater adorned man. ricky stopped his flirting and turned to meet spencer’s eyes, they sized each other up. the blonde man smiled and looked back at your much happier face, “so this is lover boy?”
you smacked his arm hard, receiving a squeal in return. “what? no. ricky this is spencer, spencer this is ricky.”
spencer gulped and ignored the stranger and you. he went for the fruits section. ricky glanced at your confused face, “i might be a threat.”
“in your dreams.” you rolled your eyes and pushed his elbow off your desk. logan approached the counter with a basket full and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. you noticed ricky’s change in expression when looking at her and held back a smile.
“you didn’t get anything for me?” he asked, voice teasing. logan took out a block of mint chocolate and threw it at him, which he caught perfectly with a smirk on his face.
“what’s wrong with lover boy?”
you glare at her, deciding avoiding that nickname was out of the picture. your shoulders slump as you begin scanning her items while making sure spencer wasn’t in earshot. “i mentioned you two, and then he went weird.”
“i mean, if i liked a girl and she told me about two guys- sorry, two people with guy names- i’d be pretty jealous,” ricky inputted.
“is that all? some jealousy got to his head?” logan pressed.
you seriously doubted he would be jealous over that, he seemed smarter than that. he was smarter than that.
logan paid and left, literally dragging ricky behind her, as he waved and winked at you through the windows.
the store was eerily quiet, the only noise coming from the thunderstorm brewing outside. it felt uncanny and uncomfortable. you needed someone’s cologne to wade through or something.
turning while shaking your head, you grabbed out some posters taller than you and turned to have the life scared out of you.
“jesus! i thought i told you to walk louder.”
his groceries were perfectly in line to be scanned, a small smile appearing before promptly vanishing. spencer avoided your eyes, a beating all he could hear.
“he’s your…”
you sighed, disappointed spencer even thought that dumb blonde was someone to you, “acquaintance.” you finished his sentence. “i’ve known him for two days and he a flirtatious dick. everyone named ricky is a dick.”
he pulls out his slim wallet to hand you a $20 bill, fingers skimming each other. one glance.
spencer nods and nearly leaves before you stop him, “can you help me?”
spencer is on the top of the ladder outside, barely staying dry underneath the steel overhead cover with the top corners of a food poster in his hands. you tip toe to give him a piece of double sided tape. the laminated photos wave in the wind, spencer sticks his tongue out in concentration and you smile at the innocent act. leaning against the wall, quickly glancing inside to make sure nobody wanted to check out, you begin talking.
“thank you for doing this, i totally would’ve fallen and died if it weren’t for you. what can i do to repay you?”
spencer thought for a moment, looking down at you, “nothing. you don’t have to do anything. just keep talking.”
so you did, because you didn’t know if you’d see him again after tonight.
PART 5
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hgfictionwriter · 21 days
Text
Birthday Gift
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Summary: It's Jessie's birthday and she can have whatever she wants. Including you.
Warnings: Serious smut. Edging. Strap sex, etc. Language as well.
A/N: In response to this request. Agreed - don't really see her being into anything too wild, but figured I could swing this. Sorry it took so long!
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"Are you still okay with this?"
Jessie had just put the car in park. She tentatively peered at you and awaited your response. You unbuckled and leaned over to give her a reassuring kiss.
"I am. I told you - I trust you."
"Okay," she said, the faint frown of concern fading from her face. She exhaled, readjusting and sitting back quickly in her seat as she wiped her palms on her jeans. She turned to you. "Safe word is?"
"Kalamazoo," you answered with a laugh as you gathered up your things.
"Let's hope nobody talks about Michigan." Jessie chuckled as she tucked her phone into her back pocket. She looked to you, resting her hand on the side of your neck as she leaned in kissed you. "I love you," she said softly as she pulled back to look into your eyes. "There's no one I'd rather do this with."
"Well I hope not," you said playfully with a laugh. She pulled back and gave you a bashful look, scratching the back of her head.
"You know what I mean," she mumbled as she began to blush.
"I know," you consoled as you leaned in to kiss her cheek. "I'm just giving you a hard time."
"Well, I'd be careful if I were you," she returned with a sly smirk forming on her lips.
"Touché," you noted. "You're the one with all the power tonight."
"I'll be good. I promise," she said, still teasing, but retaining earnest to reassure you. The last thing she'd ever want is for you to feel like she was going to take advantage or push you too much.
"I never worry. I know I'm safe with you and you'll take care of me."
She smiled tenderly at you, studying your features before giving you a decisive nod. "Okay, let's do this."
You walked up to her teammate's house hand in hand. The music emanating through the walls would've been a clear indication of how lively the party was if the cars lining the street and bustling shadows in the windows weren't already.
You reached the doorstep and leaned into Jessie ear, her wavy hair tickling your face. "Happy birthday, my love." She scrunched up her nose at you.
"It's not my birthday anymore," she grumbled. She wasn't big on birthday celebrations - she dealt with enough attention, so she didn't love having a whole day dedicated to her. She gave you a pointed look. "And this is certainly not my party."
You rolled your eyes with a laugh. "Belated birthday. Between you and me." You caressed the back of her hand and whispered. "This is your present after all."
You went to step forward and she pulled you back into a quick kiss before releasing you. "I love you," she told you one more time before you entered the house.
After you made your rounds together to say “hello” to everyone, you both went to the kitchen and Jessie grabbed a couple of drinks. She handed you a solo cup.
"You're sure?" She asked once more, keeping her voice a bit low, but still enough to be heard above overlapping conversations and music flowing through the house. You smiled at her, she really was too sweet.
"I'm positive." You leaned into her, melding your body with hers as you tilted your head into her ear to whisper. "I told you - you can do whatever you want with me. I'm yours for the taking."
Her hand came up to rest on your waist and her thumb snuck under your shirt to graze the sensitive skin on your hip. "Okay. Well, I'll see you later, then."
You gave her a quick kiss, giving her a mischievous smile. "Bye, lover. Have fun."
You went your separate ways, each of you talking with different groups. Jessie stood with Janine and Morgan, only half-listening to their conversation. Instead, her attention was drawn to you across the room with Sophia and a few others.
You were sitting on the couch engaged in conversation, sipping your drink now and then. Jessie watched you as discretely as she could over Janine's shoulder before she took a breath and pulled out her phone. She feigned attention again before initiating a few taps on her phone.
Jessie stilled as your body tensed up momentarily and you quickly recovered, readjusting your position on the couch and taking a sip of your drink. Everyone else carried on with the conversation undeterred - no reactions - Jessie bit back a grin. She had to cast her gaze down to her feet to stop herself from full on beaming when you shot her a glance across the room. She couldn't rid herself of the lingering smirk on her lips and she merely took a sip of her drink to hide it.
This was going to be way too much fun.
Jessie tried to refocus on the conversation at hand, but her thoughts were too preoccupied with the events that led up to this.
Her birthday had been a couple of weeks ago. You two had kept it low-key, but when you were in bed together later you'd offered to let her do whatever she wanted to you. Jessie was initially caught off guard and told you that she was happy with what you normally did. She must've hesitated just so because you repeated your offer.
After a few tentative moments, Jessie had asked for a rain check, which you obliged. It took a week for her to work up the courage to ask you for what she wanted. She remembered how her heart was racing and how hot her face felt, positive her cheeks with deep red with embarrassment when she merely passed you her phone with a website open on the screen.
"A wireless vibrator?" You asked - no judgement in your voice, simply curiosity.
Jessie flushed further, even ducking her head a bit as she shrugged. "If you want." To her relief, you smiled and kissed her.
"Tell me what you want," you encouraged, a lilt in your voice.
"The party next week. You wear this in your panties. I control it from my phone. I can tell you more if you want to know - I've read up on it."
You rolled your eyes affectionately. "Of course you've done your research." You leaned in to kiss her again. "Being under your control? No one knowing as you bring me to the brink from across the room? Kinky," you finished lightly and pulling a deeper blush out of Jessie. You grinned at her. "Sounds like fun. I can't wait."
The whole night Jessie imagined she looked like the cat that ate the canary. She wasn't sure if there was a moment where there wasn't a hint of a smirk on her face.
"You are so cute." Jessie's eyes snapped over to Janine, the blonde's words bringing her back to reality. "You are so smitten with her. You've been watching her all night."
Jessie grinned smugly. "She's the best."
She glanced over at you, who was now standing in a circle with a few others. Your cheeks were a bit flushed and there was the faintest sheen of sweat starting to form on your forehead. She'd heard you dismiss it earlier with a comment about how hot it was in the house.
Jessie brought out her phone again. She saw your posture falter just slightly, no one would notice unless they were really paying attention. Her eyes sparkled as she watched you clear your throat and straighten back up. You took a sip of your drink, a subtle shake in your hand, and made eye contact with Jessie out of the corner of your eye. She gave you a wink.
"If someone had told me ten years ago that you'd be winking at a girl from across the room, I would've told them they've lost their mind," Janine laughed.
Jessie kept an eye on you and excused herself from a conversation when she saw you heading into the kitchen alone. She had to bite back a grin when she walked in to see you bracing yourself at the counter and gulping down water. She waited until you'd set down the cup before she buzzed you again. Jessie beamed as your knees gave way just a bit and you gripped the counter as discretely as you could.
She came up behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist and leaning over your shoulder to whisper in your ear.
"It's just us right now."
You let out a relieved moan and turned in Jessie's arms, immediately wrapping yours around the back of her neck and leaning on her tiredly. She kissed your cheek and held you up.
"Oh my God," you nearly panted. "I feel like I'm running the most bizarre, erotic marathon of my entire life." You pulled back to look into Jessie's eyes. She was watching you with excitement and adoration and you blushed under her attention. "I don't know how much more I can take."
Jessie nodded. "You're amazing. This has been so fucking incredible." She lowered her voice further. "My girl, you've been so good tonight, I think you deserve a little something." She smiled at how you wrapped your arms tighter around her. Jessie took a step back, hands still on your waist and spoke, "Finish your water. I'll be right back."
You weren't sure what she was up to, but you did as you were told, also taking the opportunity to properly catch your breath. It was only a couple of minutes before Jessie came back. You gave her a curious look upon seeing the glint in her eye.
"Come with me," she said as she took your hand and led you through the house. You followed her to the top floor of the house and into one of the far bathrooms.
You raised your eyebrows teasingly at her as you nodded to the backpack she set on the floor. She must've had it in the car. She gave a wicked grin and closed the space between you, gently pushing you against the wall kissing you slowly and deeply.
"Well, if my baby is going to indulge me and be such a good sport, I have to make sure she leaves here satisfied," she said in a husky voice as she pressed her hips against yours and gave a gentle thrust.
"Fuck. Jessie," you breathed. Your body was so wound up and ready for release that just that small movement sent waves pulsating from your core.
She began undressing you, your jaw falling slack as she took off your panties and relieving you of the friction and pressure they'd been applying all evening. Jessie looked up at you from on her knees with a bright smile as she tucked the vibrator away into her bag and retrieved her strap.
"I'm not going to last long," you warned her as she began strapping up. You didn't even realize that you were instinctively clawing your fingers against the wall as you watched her get ready. "I'm so fucking desperate right now." She gave you a self-satisfied smirk.
"Well thank God for multiple orgasms, then," she said in a low voice as she pushed you back against the wall and kissed you.
"Oh my god," you said. "I don't know if I can be quiet." She nodded in the direction of the hall.
"The music's way too loud. No one's going to hear. Be as loud as you like," she finished with a grin and kissed you softly before reaching down and rubbing the head of her strap against your lips. She let out a breathy, pleased laugh as it slid through your slick folds with ease. "Fuck babe, you are so wet."
"An evening of edging will do that to a girl." Your laugh was cut short when Jessie bent her knees slightly then lifted her hips, entering you easily. You'd been patient enough and she wanted to show some mercy.
A gasp escaped you as your head fell back against the wall. Jessie cursed as she withdrew and slowly sank back in.
"Holy fuck. You are absolutely dripping wet," she said as she began playing with your clit, making sure to be gentle for now given how stimulated you were.
"Oh my god, Jess." Your mouth was agape and you held tightly onto her shoulders for support as she entered you with slow, deep thrusts.
After a while, although Jessie was being gentle, the attention on your clit was a bit too much after so much stimulation throughout the night.
"Jess," you panted, bringing a hand down to rest on hers. She stopped immediately. "Just fuck me. I can’t wait anymore, I need it hard. I need you so bad," you told her. She kissed your neck and gave you a smirk.
"Gladly. Come on, baby." She reached down, grabbing the back of your thighs and hoisted you up easily. The change in position immediately sent jolts through your body and you whimpered as you wrapped your legs around her toned waist.
"That's my girl," she whispered as she began to thrust into you again and kissed your neck tenderly.
You moaned her name and she began to pick up her pace. Curse words began to fall from your lips as she pumped into you with sharp, strong movements, her strong hips slamming against you as she bottomed out.
Your arousal made wet sounds every time Jessie withdrew and pumped back in, pulling wanting groans out of Jessie as she fucked you against the wall. She dug her nails into the underside of your thighs and bit her bottom lip as she pulled back to watch as you bounced up and down on her cock.
"You are a fucking vision," she said in adoration as she watched you.
It didn't take long for your orgasm to hit. A cry fell from your lips as you gripped Jessie impossibly tighter as your orgasm ripped through you. Your mind was blank as your body completely took over - the hour or more of teasing and build up hurtling you over the edge like you'd never experience before.
Jessie held you firmly in her arms, very gradually slowing her pace until she simply rest inside you as your body grew limp her arms. She chuckled softly as she kissed your cheek and gingerly lowered herself and you to the ground, carefully setting you down on your back.
"Are you okay?" She asked.
You could barely process her question, but when you did you gave a feeble nod. She stifled a laugh and kissed your cheek once more.
"I love you so much," she said.
Several moments passed, your chest heaving up and down as you worked to catch your breath and recover. When you could begin to think somewhat clearly again, you opened your eyes to see her gazing down at you. She smiled and captured your lips in a kiss.
"Thank you." You said after. Her forehead creased in confusion and you chuckled. "That was the kind of orgasm you thank someone for."
"Oh." She blushed. You had to laugh. You leaned up and kissed her sweetly.
"Only you could give a girl a mind-breaking orgasm and then blush about it afterwards."
To your point, she blushed deeper, her lips pursing together in a bashful smile. Then, setting her shoulders back a touch and now offering you a smirk, she said, "Don't get too bratty. I'm not done with you yet."
To emphasize her point, she slowly drew her hips back, grinning at how you immediately gasped, your head falling back against the floor, before she achingly slowly pushed her hips back down into you.
"Remember who's in control," she whispered.
A moan fell from your lips as she began to rock her hips into you at a slow, languid pace. When she felt you were ready, she pulled back and pushed into your forcefully, pulling a needy cry out of you.
"Oh, fuck, Jess," you whispered as you subconsciously clawed at the back of her arms. "You feel so good inside of me."
Jessie growled in your ear and suddenly she sat back. You looked down your body at her to see her taking you in with dark eyes. In a few swift movements, she helped you up and soon had you bent over the counter, facing the mirror. She locked eyes with you in the mirror before tilting her head and beginning to kiss down the middle of your back.
You moaned deep in your throat as she sensually trailed kisses down your spine and her hands caressed your breasts. You found herself rolling your hips back against her, looking for the sensation you'd lost when she pulled out.
"Look at how needy you are, baby." Her voice was husky as she began to shift her hips, her strap pushing through your wet folds. You nodded and leaned forward on the counter, opening yourself up to her more.
“Fuck,” she breathed in appreciation as she looked you up and down.
"I need you inside me," you told her, only vaguely aware of how high and wanting your voice was.
"That's my girl," she said in approval as she rocked against you further, your juices coating her strap anew.
Before it could become too much, Jessie placed a hand on your hip and you felt her line herself up with your entrance. She looked at you in the mirror and sunk into you.
Your mouth fell open and you blindly palmed the counter, looking for something to anchor you as pleasure coursed through you and your knees nearly buckled with a single stroke. You found the edge of the counter and clutched it desperately as she filled you completely. She held herself inside of you.
"Are you okay, baby?" She asked gently. You nodded eagerly and opened your eyes to an impish grin now forming on her face. She laid another kiss on your back before standing up again. "You're so fucking beautiful."
Whatever you were going to say got lost on your tongue as she drew back and lunged forward. You threw your head back at the sensation.
"Tell me if it gets to be too much," she told you.
Soon Jessie was thrusting in and out of you, each stroke hitting that sweet spot that sent pleasurable waves through you. Her thrusts were strong and fast, her hips slamming against your ass. Although the music from the party was still loud, the sounds of her hips clapping against you filled your ears.
"Oh my God," you repeated over and over as she pistoned in and out. You caught a glimpse of yourself when you managed to look up and saw an image of you rocking against the counter, your knuckles white as you gripped the edge with Jessie behind you.
Her fingers dug into your hips and she was staring down at you as she fucked you from behind. She was in a trance, wearing the slightest frown on her face as she concentrated, her cheeks red, sweat beading on her forehead, and her mouth slightly agape as she breathed hard. It turned you on even more.
A particularly wanton moan escaped you as Jessie reached up and grabbed your hair and tugged your head back. She exhaled shakily, her jaw shifting as she devoured your reflection. She started pumping into you harder and she tightened her grip on your hair.
"Jessie, fuck," you panted, your back arching against the counter as she railed you. "So good."
She watched you hungrily and it wasn't long before you came undone. She grunted as she thrust into you. The sight of you gasping and coming around her cock for the second time tonight pushed her to a high as well.
"Fuck," she muttered harshly as she eventually slowed her rhythm and pushed in one last time to the hilt and collapsing on your back.
"Oh God," you babbled, your face flush against the counter now and unable to even open your eyes. "Holy fuck, Jess." She absently laid a kiss on your shoulder.
"You are the most incredible woman I've ever known," she breathed, propping herself up a bit, now mindful of her weight on you.
Your eyes were still shut and you struggled to speak, but you managed to quip, "You remember that."
"Believe me, there's no one else for me." She kissed you tenderly again before standing up, carefully pulling out of you, not wanting to overstimulate you further.
"Babe." You called her attention before giving a short laugh. "I honestly don't know if I'm going to be able to walk out of here." The only reason you weren't collapsed on the floor was because Jessie's strong arms were still holding you up.
She smiled at you, half apologetic, half boastful. "Here," she said as gently guided you to the floor again. "Take a moment."
You felt her pull away slightly and heard her rummaging in the backpack before pushing something into your hand. You glanced down to see a water bottle. You snickered and let your eyes flutter shut once more. "You're such a dork. A sweet, thoughtful dork though." You took a few grateful swigs.
"I'm going to need a few fucking days, not moments," you went on, only half joking. She kissed your neck sweetly.
"We're leaving now anyway," she assured you. "Want me to carry you out?" She teased. You rolled your eyes.
"Oh yeah, I'm sure we'd both love that attention. I just need a minute." You continued to rest your head against the vanity cupboard. You peeked an eye open at the stifled laugh that came from Jessie. You saw her watching you smugly and trying desperately not to laugh. Heat rushed to your face and you gave her a playful shove. "Yeah, you're awfully proud of yourself, aren't you? And I don't have any kind of witty retort right now because I'm still a bit dazed...but give me time. I'll get you back."
She gave you a warm smile and kissed your shoulder, holding your gaze. "I know, love."
She gave you one more kiss and stood up. She removed the strap and got dressed before returning and offering you a hand.
"I hate to rush you, but it's only a matter of time until someone knocks on this door. I picked this one specifically because every other time we've had parties there never seems to be anyone in here, but still."
Jessie helped you get dressed and soon you had your hand on the door knob about to leave.
"How do I look? Like I just got fucked into oblivion and back?" You asked lightly. She nearly snorted a laugh.
"You look beautiful," she told you earnestly before kissing you. "And thank you for my birthday present. Best ever."
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mariasont · 26 days
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can you do aaron x wife reader who also works in the bau with him & on a case a police officer openly flirts with aaron in front of the team and reader so she stakes her claim on her husband && the team ( mostly derek & pen ) are teasing the two of them for it ??
Marked Territory - A.H
A/N: AHHHHH thinking ab claiming aaron hotchner as ur man has me giggling & kicking me feet
THANK you sooooo much for requesting angel <3 hope you like it!
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
wk: 1.2k
pairings: aaron hotchner x wife!bau!fem!reader
warnings: heavy makeout, jealously
You stood a few feet away with a watchful gaze, arms locked across your chest. The consultant was laying it on thick, her eyelashes sweeping up and down in a practiced rhythm aimed at Aaron. It made you want to throw up. You couldn't help but let out a soft, almost inaudible scoff. The consultant's laughter pierced the quiet, an exaggerated display that felt out of place. Her hand rested on Aaron's arm a moment too long. Your glare could have set the room on fire, you were sure of it, and it only seemed to intensify when Aaron offered a polite, yet distant smile in return.
"Careful there, sugar," Derek joked, sliding into place beside you as he nudged your side. "You're about two seconds from turning this into a crime scene."
You offered a half-glance towards him, "I suppose I can't fault her taste," you said with a forced lightness, even as a twinge of jealously coiled tightly within you, your attention fixed on the hand that dared to claim familiarity with Aaron. "But good taste doesn't come with good sense, apparently."
Penelope swept in with a gasp that could rival a Greek chorus, her eyes wide with a feigned shock. "Wow, I could practically taste your fury from down the hall! Mrs. Hotchner, are we in strategy mode, or should I grab some popcorn?"
You rolled your eyes with a dismissive wave. "You two are ridiculous. What do you expect me to do? Drag her by her hair? Please, I trust Aaron," you stated firmly, because, well, you did. This, however, didn't stop the tiny spark of irritation that flickered within, unbidden and unwelcome, but you squashed it with a laugh. "Besides, if I started a catfight every time someone flirted with him, I'd need my own filing cabinet for all the assault charges."
A glance was all it took for Garcia and Morgan to share their amusement. "Sure, sure," Garcia drawled, her voice dripping in sarcasm.
Morgan's eyebrow arched in silent agreement as he smiled knowingly. "Of course, you're calm. But we both know if that bubble of anger pops, it's going to be one hell of a show."
You tried to ignore it; you really did. You buried your nose in your work, determined to keep your mind off that infuriating woman. You shuffled papers, dove into your case files, and tapped away at your computer with a vigor that doesn't go unnoticed by the team. Every time you caught a glimpse of Aaron, there she was--the consultant--hovering like a shadow. It's almost comical how she mirrored his every move, but you were not laughing.
You found reasons to be anywhere but where Aaron was, taking your coffee break when he's in the break room, opting for the stairs when he took the elevator. It's a dance of avoidance that has you mentally exhausted, but you're trying to channel your inner zen, and being around that woman is doing you no favors.
The office air is thick with tension, a tangible presence that envelops your desk, your focus splintering with every laugh and hushed conversation that drifts over from Aaron's direction. You're the very image of concentration until you see it--the consultant, her proximity invasive, her hand lingering on his shoulder with a familiarity that sears through your veneer of calm. It's the tripping point, the moment your restraint fractures.
You stand, a fluid motion that betrays her anger that charged the room with an energy that has the whole team's attention snapping to you. They recognize the signs--the firm line of your jaw, the fire in your eyes--a rare display that signals an unstoppable force is about to be set in motion.
"Hotch," the name is a clear, firm declaration across the room, a tone you usually reserved for the field. "Can I speak to you for a second?"
The room falls still, a collective breath held by the team as Aaron excuses himself and follows you into his office. The door closes behind them with a soft click, leaving just the two of you. His gaze meets yours, a furrow of worry creasing his brow as he takes in the tempest swirling in your stance.
"Honey, are you alright?" he asks, the professional facade giving way to a soft undertone of worry, as he takes a deliberate step towards you, his eyes searching yours for signs of distress.
With a swift assurance of privacy, your eyes lock on the drawn blinds, and you waste no time diminishing the space between you, hands clasping up to his neck with an urgency that pulls him down to you. Your lips found his in a fervent collision, coaxing a surprised murmur from him. He softly pulled back, his chuckle deep and knowing, as his hands encircled your waist. 
"Honey--I, we're in the office."
His words may have carried a hint of reprimand, but the gentle exploration of his hands across your back drawing you nearer seemed to contradict him. An innocent smile graced your lips as your fingers wove through his hair, eliciting his head tilting back in contentment. "Just missed you is all."
An eyebrow lifted in amused acknowledgement. "Mm, is that so?"
Gently tugging his head closer, your lips crashed against his with a desperate intensity, your hands gripping him as if he were a lifeline.
With deliberate strokes, you raked your fingers through his hair, creating artful disarray. Your hands glided to his tie, tugging it just enough to break the perfect line, then across his jacket, crumpling the fabric with feigned carelessness. Each touch a strategic step in enhancing his unkempt image.
A gentle exhale escaped you as he pressed you back against the desk's edge, his hands forming a cage around you, both protective and possessive.  Your lips curved into a smirk, your teeth capturing his bottom lip and tugging with a teasing pressure, probably a little harder than you should have, causing him to pull back. "Christ, sweetheart."
Instinctively, your hand rose to trace his bottom lip, smoothing over the swollenness your teeth had caused. A soft smile graced your features as you took in the delightful disarray of his appearance. With a satisfied nod, you left a featherlight kiss on his cheek and glided towards the door. "I love you, Mr. Hotchner."
His eyebrows knit together in loving exasperation as he observed your retreat, his hand absentmindedly caressing his lip. God, you kept life interesting. "I love you more, Mrs. Hotchner."
Emerging from Hotch's office, your hair perfectly disordered, a small smirk etched on your lips. You watch as the consultant's eyes stretch wide, a flush of embarrassment covering her cheeks. With a sly wink tossed her way, you glide towards Penelope and Morgan.
"Well, well, well," Morgan drawled, a sly grin spreading across his face as he watched the scene unfold, arms folded confidently over his chest. "I had a feeling those claws were just waiting for the right moment to strike."
"That's our girl! Showing the world whose boss without breaking a sweat." Penelope chirped. "Well, I mean, maybe a little sweat. I'm seriously striving not to speculate about what you two were doing in there."
A playful smirk dances on your lips as you peer over your shoulder at Hotch's door. "Just wait for it," you tease, fingers poised for the dramatic reveal as you count down. "3, 2, 1.."
Right on cue, Hotch steps out, looking every bit as ruffled as you'd intended. His tie hangs crooked, his suit crumpled, and you didn't miss the dark red tint around his bottom lip. The sound of Morgan and Penelope's laughter filled the air as you offered a nonchalant shrug. 
"It's all in the day's work, besties. A girl's got to do what a girl's got to do."
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fatecantstopme · 1 year
Text
Never Do That Again
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Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader
Summary: The team is in a tiny town, a town so small that there is only one tiny hotel. What happens when you end up having to share a small room with your boss for a week straight?
Warnings: Angst. Some fluffy fluff. Mentions of death. Suicide. SMUT, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V). Use of pet names. Swearing.
"Dear God, I'm exhausted," you mumbled as you walked into the little hotel.
"I'm just looking forward to a hot shower," Morgan said from behind you.
"So are we. You smell terrible," Emily teased.
"Shut up."
You all chuckled as you reached the front desk.
"Good evening," the woman at the desk said. "How can I help you?"
"Hi there," you said with a smile as you were the first person to reach the desk. "We're in need of a few rooms."
"Okay, dear. We have one single and three doubles available."
Before anyone else could say anything, Rossi stepped forward and said, "I'll take the single."
The lady handed him the key and he waved to you all as he headed towards the elevator.
"Are you kidding me?" you grumbled.
"Reid and I will bunk together," Morgan said, taking another key from the desk.
You were about to ask JJ to room with you, but she snatched up a key and said, "Emily and I will take a room."
You gave her a look that she pretended not to see.
Hotch sighed heavily and reached for the last key. "I guess that means it's you and me, (Y/L/N)."
You deepened the glare on your face as you looked at JJ. She smiled at you knowingly and you felt the strong urge to smack her. Instead, you simply said, "Guess so, boss."
Everyone moved towards the elevators as a group, but you grabbed JJ's arm and pulled her back to you. "You did that on purpose," you hissed.
"Of course I did."
"J--what the hell am I supposed to do?"
"Now's your chance, (Y/N/N). Time to find out if he wants you as badly as I think he does."
"Or I'm just horny and sleep-deprived for however long we're stuck here," you grumbled.
"I doubt it."
She practically dragged you into the elevator with her and you both fell silent. JJ was the only person you'd ever admitted your feelings to about your boss. She was your best friend and you trusted her implicitly.
When you first told her you liked Hotch, she started paying more attention to how he acted around you. By this point, she was convinced he was into you--like really into you. You weren't so sure. Hotch was always so professional...you couldn't imagine a situation where he would break the rules so blatantly.
The hotel was small, only 8 rooms in total, four on the second floor and four on the third. JJ and Emily's room was on the second, as was yours and Hotch's, meanwhile, Rossi's room and Reid and Morgan's was on the third floor.
Hotch unlocked the door and waited for you to enter before bidding goodnight to JJ and Emily and shutting the door. You managed one last glare in JJ's direction before the door shut, but she shot you a wink and ducked into her own room.
When you turned around and got a full view of the room, you realized just how tiny it was. The two beds were so close together they were almost touching and the only other pieces of furniture in the room were a single nightstand and a small loveseat.
"Well this is...quaint," you managed.
Hotch laughed lightly. "That's one word for it." He tossed his duffle onto the bed closest to the door. "I'll take this one if that's okay with you?"
You nodded and walked over to the other bed and sat down on the edge of it. "You wanna shower first? I'll take longer."
"Sure, thanks." He grabbed what he would need and went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.
You gave yourself a little slap on the face to try and snap yourself out it. Your brain was betraying you as it often did in situations like this. First, you imagined what he would look like without his clothes, then your mind wandered to taking a shower with him, then to being underneath him on the bed. "Shit, (Y/N)," you said to yourself. "Snap out of it."
You laid back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, waiting for Hotch to come out of the bathroom. You tried to think about literally anything else, but your mind kept traveling back to your boss--as it often did these days.
You knew it was dangerous to let yourself think about him or imagine anything with him. He was beyond off-limits. You couldn't deny the sexual attraction you felt, nor the spark of real attraction, but you sure as hell couldn't act on it. It could destroy both of your lives.
"Uhh...(Y/N)?" Hotch said a little louder. The way he spoke told you it wasn't the first time he'd said your name.
"Sorry--I was lost in thought," you said as you sat up. You were completely unprepared for the sight of him post-shower, his hair was damp and tousled, and he wore nothing but a t-shirt and boxers.
You must have been staring a little too long because he cleared his throat. "Your turn."
"Oh, yeah--right." You stumbled to the bathroom, feeling like a complete idiot. You made fast work of your shower and nighttime routine.
You started digging through your bag trying to find your pjs as the panic started to rise in you. "Fuck," you muttered. "Fuck, shit, fuck!"
"Everything okay in there?" Hotch called.
"Yeah," you called back. "I just--shit--I forgot my pajamas."
"Oh...umm--do you need anything?"
You groaned as you realized all you had was a tank top. "Not to be awkward or anything, but do you maybe have pants?"
He chuckled lightly and you heard him rustle through his bag. "I have a pair of sweats. Will that work?"
Oh, thank god. "Yes! Thank you so much."
You opened the door just enough for him to slide the pants through the crack. You grabbed them gratefully and pulled them on quickly. As expected, they were massive on you. He was broader and taller than you, the sweats making you look like you were a child trying on your father's clothes.
You walked out of the bathroom, holding tightly to the waistband of the pants. "They're slightly big on me," you said lightly.
Hotch looked over at you and froze. His eyes trailed over your body slowly and you felt incredibly exposed under his gaze.
"The uh--the tank was all I had," you mumbled as you climbed into your bed.
Hotch seemed to realize he'd been staring awkwardly and his gaze quickly averted. "Don't worry about it. You can wear whatever you want to bed."
You chuckled. "Thank you?"
He groaned. "Sorry, that came out weird."
"It's okay." You laid down on your bed and sighed. "These beds are tiny."
He laughed. "You're telling me. I've never felt so large in my life."
You looked over at him and giggled. "You look like you're sleeping in a child's bed."
He groaned. "I feel like I'm sleeping in a child's bed. There is no way this is going to be comfortable."
"What size are these beds, anyway?"
"I don't think they even make beds like this. They're slightly larger than a twin, but smaller than a full."
You sighed. "They had them specially made for this tiny room."
He chuckled. "Probably."
You curled up under your covers and settled in for the night, exhaustion finally overwhelming your body. "Could you get the light?"
"Of course." He reached over and turned off the lamp. "Goodnight, (Y/N)."
"Goodnight, Hotch."
**********
"How'd you sleep?" you asked the next morning.
"Terribly," Hotch admitted.
"Me too, honestly."
"It's the tiny bed."
You sighed. "Hopefully we'll only be here a day or two."
The whole team worked hard all day, doing their best to catch the latest unsub. You finally decided to call it a night around 7.
"Let's get dinner and head back to the hotel," Hotch said.
Everyone agreed and you headed to the local diner, one of the only places to get food in this town.
You slid into the booth on the side facing the door, as you always did, and to your surprise, Hotch slid in next to you. JJ was sitting across from you and she smirked slightly when she saw Hotch sit down.
You gave her a 'shut it' look and she just chuckled.
Throughout dinner, Hotch's leg brushed against yours several times and his proximity had you distracted. You could smell his cologne and it made you lightheaded. It was almost embarrassing. When his leg would brush yours, your entire body froze and you found it difficult to breathe.
You were beyond grateful for dinner to be over and to head back to the hotel. But even there you couldn't escape him because you were sharing a damn room. FML.
When you walked back into the hotel room and stared at the tiny beds you groaned audibly.
Hotch followed your gaze and chuckled. "Yeah, not looking forward to that either."
Suddenly, an idea popped into your head and before you could think better of it, you spit said idea out. "Hey, what if we push the beds together to make one big bed?"
Hotch froze. "What?"
"I mean, at least then it'd be like a normal sized bed and maybe then we could get some sleep."
He just stared at you in silence and you quickly realized what you had just suggested.
"Or, not--just kidding. That was a terrible idea."
"No, no--actually, that's not a bad idea," he said.
"Wait, really?"
"Yeah! I mean, at least that way we both have a higher chance of actually getting some sleep."
"Okay, cool."
The two of you set to work on moving the nightstand out of the way and pushing the two beds together. It actually did seem to be make sense, at least visually. Hopefully it made sleeping a little more pleasant tonight as well.
"Much better," you said softly as you patted your side of the bed. "Just don't roll me off the bed in the middle of the night."
He laughed. "No promises."
Just like the night before, Hotch showered first, then it was your turn. When you came back out, he was already laying in the bed with his eyes closed.
You moved slowly and lightly, just in case he was asleep. When you crawled into the bed, you noticed the way he was breathing and you couldn't help but smile. He was fast asleep, all the worry lines that normally lived on his face were gone, and you couldn't help but think he looked incredibly peaceful.
You smiled again as you reached across him to turn off the lamp before getting comfortable on your side of the bed. "Goodnight, Hotch," you whispered.
**********
The next day was almost identical to the day before. Work all day, eat dinner, shower, go to sleep.
It was day number four when things finally started to pick up. It was an extremely long day, but the team had successfully identified the unsub. Now it was just a matter of finding him.
Day five was an absolute shitshow. One of the locals had messed up and spoiled the team's chance of catching the unsub. You'd been on a wild goose chase for most of the day and Hotch was in an absolutely foul mood by the time you made it back to the hotel.
"Do you wanna talk about it?" you asked quietly as the two of you sat upright in bed.
"No."
"Okay."
You both sat in silence for several minutes--the heaviest silence you'd ever felt.
"I don't like feeling powerless," Hotch said suddenly.
You turned to look at him in surprise. "No one does."
He shook his head. "It's worse for me. I'm in charge--I'm supposed to be the leader. If I have no control, then what are we supposed to do?"
"It might help to remember you're not alone."
He looked over at you. "I feel alone."
"You're not. You have us," you insisted.
"I shouldn't be burdening any of you with my troubles."
"It's not a burden. We're your family, Hotch. It's what we're there for."
He fell silent again, but it was much less tense than before. After a few minutes, he spoke again. "Can I tell you something?"
"Of course."
"And you won't judge me?"
"I would never judge you," you said honestly.
"Sometimes I lay in bed at night filled with nothing but fear and regret. It's so crippling I can barely move. This case is getting to me, and I--I feel that fear. Every worst case scenario runs through my mind and I feel like I'm drowning."
Instinct takes over and you reach to grab his hand. He tenses, but he doesn't pull away. "I'll be your life-raft," you murmured.
He looked up at you with emotion-filled eyes. You weren't used to seeing anything other than the most stoic expressions on his face and it shocked you beyond belief. But nothing could prepare you for the words about to come out of his mouth. "Can I hold you?" he whispered so softly you almost thought you were hearing things.
"I--uh--you--" you stammered.
"Never mind, forget I said anything."
"No, wait--I was just surprised," you said softly. "If it will help you, then yes, you can hold me."
Without waiting for him to respond, you laid down beside him. He shifted slightly, getting into a more comfortable position. You felt his arm snake around you as he whispered, "Thank you."
"You're welcome," you whispered back.
He tightened his grip around your waist and pulled you closer so your back was flush against his front. You couldn't remember a time when you didn't want this, but you didn't imagine it happening quite like this.
It was either exhaustion from the day or the comfort of his arms, but you fell asleep within moments, Hotch not far behind you. Neither of you would admit it, but it was the best sleep you'd gotten in ages.
**********
The next day was different in so many ways. Hotch was different. Opening up to you had changed something in him, something you didn't understand. He was never more than a few feet from you at any point in time, he would brush up against you often, and he would glance at you for much longer than he should have. You weren't sure what to think, and you didn't want to read too much into it.
It was mid-afternoon when you received a phone call that led you to the location of the unsub. The seven of you pulled up to an abandoned house where he was supposedly staying. You entered, guns drawn, and began to clear the house.
You reached one of the back bedrooms and a shot rang out. You ducked back out of the doorway just as another bullet struck the doorframe where you had been standing a second before.
"FBI! Put the weapon down!" you yelled.
"You first," a voice replied.
"Come on, Matthew, it's over. Just put the gun down and come out."
You felt Hotch come up beside you. "She's right, Matthew. We have you surrounded."
You could practically hear the wheels in Matthew's head turning. After several moments of silence, a final shot rang out, followed by a loud thud.
Hotch reached out to stop you, but you pulled away from him and entered the bedroom. Matthew, the unsub, was lying on the floor in the middle of the room. The gun was in his right hand, blood splattered all over the left side of the room.
"Guess we were right about him being suicidal," you said softly. When you turned to look back at Hotch, he was staring at you with a look you couldn't quite place--somewhere between terror and anger.
Before you could ask him what was wrong, the rest of the team started coming into the room. You made a mental note to ask him about it later.
Hotch was quiet during dinner and he was silent when you got back to your room. He didn't even say anything as he crawled into bed.
You'd asked him if he was okay and he'd brushed you off, but you were no fool. You could feel the tension rolling off his body in waves.
You laid there, staring up at the ceiling, wondering what had happened and why he wouldn't speak to you. It was killing you inside and there was nothing you could do about it.
"Never do that again," he said suddenly.
"Do what?" you asked in confusion.
"Put yourself in danger like that. You could have been killed."
"Hotch, I was doing my job."
"Your job is to come home at the end of the day--not get yourself shot by some deranged killer."
"What are you talking about?"
He turned the light on and sat up, anger radiating off him. "You didn't even think--you heard that last shot and you just went into that room. You didn't know what you'd find! You didn't know if he was still alive--if he was going to shoot you. You didn't think about what it would do to me if something happened to you!"
You'd been gearing up to yell back at him until you heard his last sentence. "What it would do to you?" you whispered.
He froze, seemingly realizing in that moment what he'd actually admitted out loud. "I--shit."
"Hotch?" you questioned softly.
He groaned and put his head in his hands. "Forget I said anything."
"Yeah, that's not gonna happen."
He sighed. "Look, (Y/N). I--I care about you, okay? I...I don't think I could take it if something happened to you."
"Nothing happened, Hotch. I'm perfectly fine."
He finally looked up at you. "This time. What about the next time? Or the one after that? I'm terrified every single time you step into a potentially dangerous situation."
"Terrified of what, exactly?"
"Losing you!" he yelled, exasperated. "Of watching something bad happen to you; of not telling you how I feel; of never getting the chance to touch you or hold you or kiss you--and I can't stand it, (Y/N)! I just can't."
You blinked several times as if that would magically make his words sink in. Of all the ways you'd imagined having this kind of conversation with him, this was most definitely not on the list.
"I'm sorry," you murmured. "I didn't know you worried so much."
His eyes were swimming with emotion and unshed tears. "Do you have any idea how much you mean to me?" he whispered.
You shook your head. "But I think I'm starting to see it."
"I know I'm not supposed to feel like this. I'm not supposed to like you this way or want you like this, but I can't keep suppressing my emotions and pretending everything is fine as it is. It's not fine, (Y/N)--I'm not fine. I can't keep living a lie...it's killing me."
Every word you'd ever learned magically left your brain in that moment. Your heart was hammering in your chest, the only indication you were still alive, the rest of you completely frozen in time.
Then, suddenly, your brain kicked back into gear and you launched yourself towards him, lips locking against his in a passionate kiss. Your words had failed you, but there was no mistaking the emotions in that kiss.
When you separated, you were breathing heavily, cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you realized what you'd done. Before you could apologize, Hotch grabbed you and pulled you back into him, kissing you with as much passion as you'd given him.
"(Y/N)," he breathed against your lips.
You sighed as he grabbed your hips and pulled you onto his lap, lips never leaving yours. His hands snaked up under your tank top, feeling your warm, soft skin with the tips of his fingers.
You let him pull your shirt off over your head and his gaze fell to your exposed breasts. He bit his lip and looked up at you hesitantly, as if asking for your permission.
You grabbed his left hand and placed it directly on your chest. He got the hint and immediately lowered his face to take your pert nipple into his mouth.
You let out a little sigh and ran your fingers through his dark hair. When he nipped at your breast, you gasped and tightened your hold on him.
"Aaron..." you whispered softly, losing yourself in the feeling of his hands and his lips on your body.
He groaned and lifted his head to look at you again. "I never thought my name on your lips would sound so sexy."
You grinned and murmured, "Aaron."
"Now you're just being a tease."
You bit your lip and winked at him.
He chuckled lightly before flipping you onto your back so you were under him on the bed. He reattached his lips to yours, kissing you like his life depended on it.
Your hands began to tug on his shirt and he pulled away from you just long enough for you to yank it over his head. He wasted no time getting back to kissing you, his lips trailing down your jaw and neck.
Your hands caressed every inch of his skin you could reach from your position, the softness of your touch eliciting sweet sounds from his lips.
He rutted his hips against yours and you gasped at the feeling of his very hard member pressing into you.
Your body suddenly went into overdrive--years of pent-up desire rising to the surface. "I need you," you begged.
He lifted his gaze to meet yours. "I'm right here, baby."
You shook your head. "Need more."
He smirked. "Who knew you'd be such a needy girl?"
"Aaron," you whined.
He chuckled. "Alright, alright. Patience, sweetheart." He hooked his fingers under the waistband of your sweatpants and gave them a firm tug. He pulled them down your legs and tossed them off to the side.
You spread your legs for him, revealing your soaking wet core. He moaned at the sight before slipping a finger between your folds to collect the juices that lingered there. He brought his finger up to his mouth and licked it clean, another moan escaping his lips.
"You taste delicious," he murmured.
You could only stare at him, eyes pleading him to give you more.
Normally Hotch would have taken his time teasing you, but he could feel your need radiating off you in waves. Plus, if he was being honest, he needed you just as badly. Waiting just wasn't in the cards tonight.
He dropped to his stomach between your legs and before you could say a word, his mouth was on you, hot breath, wet tongue, and devilish lips dancing across your core, making you gasp with pleasure.
He ate you out like you were his very last meal--and he intended to savor every second of it. Despite having never been intimate with you before, he played your body like an expert musician, hitting every single one of your sweet spots, making you squirm beneath his touch.
"Aaron, please--I'm--" you gasped out.
He moaned, not wanting to stop his ministrations to respond to you. He knew you were close without you having to spell it out. He could feel the way your pussy clenched around his fingers and the way your thighs had begun to shake. He was desperate to feel you cum--to taste your delicious release--so he didn't stop.
Your fingers dug into his scalp and tugged at his hair as you squirmed, pleasure threatening to overwhelm you.
With one last flick of his tongue and motion of his fingers, you cried out his name as your orgasm crashed into you. He held you in place as he lapped up your release, lips not leaving your pussy until you practically dragged him up by his hair.
He smiled down at you and licked his lips, tasting the last of you on them. Your eyes were wide and your body shivered with aftershocks--a feeling you weren't exactly accustomed to.
"Can I return the favor?" you asked, slightly breathless.
"As much as I would love that, I wanna be inside of you too badly to wait--I'm gonna struggle to last as it is."
You smiled. "Then lose the boxers, handsome. Lemme see you."
He sat up and quickly shed his boxers, eyes focused on your face. He knew he was well endowed--and he knew how to use it--but nothing made his chest swell with pride as much as the way you were looking at him right now.
Your eyes were focused on his cock, surprise evident in your gaze as you took in his size. The surprise quickly melted into heady desire and your gaze flicked back up to his face.
"Like what you see?" he teased.
"You know I do," you whispered.
There was something about the way you said it that made him want you even more. As he lined himself up with your entrance, he took a deep breath to try and maintain his composure. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you or lose control.
You wiggled your hips slightly, letting him know you were ready and willing.
He locked eyes with you as he began to slowly slide into your tight, wet heat. Your lips parted and a soft gasp left them as he pushed inside. "I've got you, baby," he murmured.
Your hands gripped his biceps as he kept pushing into you, the stretch threatening to break you right in half. By the time he finally bottomed out, your nails had dug crescent shaped indentations into his skin.
He wanted to wait for your body to adjust to him before he began to move, but you had other plans. "Fuck me, Aaron. Please."
The pleading tone in your voice was all he needed to hear. He began to move, hips setting a fast pace from the start.
The room filled with the sounds of your love-making--moans, whimpers, gasps of each other's names--mixed with the salacious sounds of your bodies coming together.
"You feel so good, baby," he whispered. "Even more incredible than I imagined."
Your mind was completely fuzzy, filled with nothing but the feeling of immense pleasure. As such, you couldn't formulate coherent sentences to respond to anything Hotch whispered to you.
"I could stay here forever--" he moaned as you clenched tightly around him. "Fuck--baby, I'm not gonna last."
You simply moaned in response as he sped up his movements.
"I need you to cum for me, (Y/N/N). Need to feel you--please."
You were clutching onto him, nails raking down his back as he fucked you deeply. "Close," was all you could manage to say to him.
"Can I fill you up, baby girl? Wanna make you mine."
Something about his words drove you wild. You screamed out "Yes!" followed by "Aaron!" as you came, body shaking beneath him.
The way your pussy clenched around his cock as you came sent him right over the edge and he filled you with his seed. His hips faltered on his last few strokes and he whispered sweet nothings into your ear as you both came down from your highs.
He slowly pulled out of you and your body shivered slightly at the loss of contact. He quickly got up, stumbling slightly, as he made his way to the bathroom for a warm washcloth.
He came back and began to gently clean you up. When he was done, he tossed the washcloth onto the floor and crawled into the bed beside you.
"Come here, pretty girl," he mumbled.
You obliged, moving your body so you were up against his side. He pulled you closer and you rested your head on his chest.
"Infinitely better than I'd imagined," he whispered into your hair.
You chuckled lightly. "Agreed."
"Oh? So you imagined it too?"
You glanced up at him, a light blush covering your cheeks. "Of course I did."
He raised his eyebrows. "You're very good at hiding your attraction."
"Thank you. It's not exactly easy when you're surrounded by a bunch of profilers."
He nodded. "I know what you mean. I'm surprised you didn't know I liked you before this."
You bit your lip and looked away.
"What is it?"
"Well...JJ knew."
"Oh?"
"She insisted you liked me...and she also knows that I like you."
"Ahh, well...I suppose it was only a matter of time."
You looked up at him again. "You're taking this surprisingly well."
He shrugged. "It's not as if I was planning on keeping this a secret."
Surprise lit up your face. "You weren't?"
He returned your surprised expression. "Of course not. I finally have you, (Y/N), and I'm sure as hell not letting go."
"But what about the rules?"
"To hell with the rules. We deserve to be happy."
"Who are you and what have you done with Aaron Hotchner?" you teased softly.
He smiled. "Him? Well...he fell in love."
You inhaled sharply.
"You don't have to say it back, (Y/N). I have no expectations here...but I know how I feel and I needed to say it."
You lifted your head off his chest to look at him better. "I know I don't have to, but I want to. I love you too," you whispered.
A thousand emotions filled his eyes the moment those words left your lips. He leaned down to kiss you and you felt your body respond to him immediately.
Before you knew it, you were straddling him as you made out, desire pulsating between you. "Round two?" you asked with a grin.
"I thought you'd never ask."
**********
The next morning, you went down for breakfast a few minutes before Hotch. You'd woken up to his lips on the back of your neck and shoulders--kisses that quickly turned to more fiery passion.
You'd finally convinced him to come shower with you, which of course took longer because he insisted on giving you just one more orgasm.
When you walked into the little seating area on the first floor, you were greeted by the rest of your team. Every single one of them had shit-eating grins on their faces as they said good morning to you.
"How was your night, (Y/N)?" Emily asked lightly.
"Did you sleep well?" JJ teased.
"I didn't get much sleep," you said honestly--knowing they clearly were already aware of that.
"I imagine Hotch didn't either," Morgan said with a grin.
You shot him a look. "Alright, out with it."
"I'm just saying, (Y/N/N), the walls are really thin," he responded.
Your eyes widened and you looked at JJ for confirmation.
"We're just really grateful for those noise-canceling headphones you got us for Christmas last year," JJ answered.
"Oh. My. God," you groaned.
"Morning everyone," Hotch said as he walked into the room, completely oblivious to the current conversation.
"Morning, Aaron," Rossi said knowingly, a teasing lilt to his voice.
Hotch glanced at you, taking note of your very red cheeks. Comprehension dawned on his face and his eyes widened slightly.
"Thin walls," you whispered.
To your surprise, Hotch simply smiled. "Saves us the trouble of telling them we're dating."
Rossi was the first to laugh and the rest of the team quickly joined in. You were glad they knew--even if it was in the most awkward way possible. You knew they loved and supported both you and Hotch, and that wouldn't change with your new-found relationship.
3K notes · View notes
miley1442111 · 1 month
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the problem with arguing
a/n: Hi, this is my first story, any constructive criticism is welcomed. This had not been properly edited nor read through because icba lmao :) also I wrote it for a fem!reader but I don't think there's much mention other than Jack calling reader 'mom' so... yeah :)
pairings: aaron hotchner x reader, platonic BAUteam x reader, motherly(If that's a word?)reader x teen!jack hotchner
summary: aaron and you are in a fight, but what happens when a meeting with a witness goes south?
warnings: criminal minds levels of violence, angst, fluff, couple fighting, reader in distress, reader getting injured, mentions of knives, mentions of being stabbed, mentions of being tied up, mentions of hospitals, mentions of killing, mentions of general injury, mentions of guns/shooting, minimal use of y/n.
1.6k + words.
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“We’re here, we’ll update you if anything comes of it,” Morgan promises Hotch over the phone as we walk to the front porch of one of our witnesses. Something about his story is messed up and we were the unlucky ones who had to go talk to him. It’s a pretty house I guess, a little expensive for what a 26 year old man could afford, and what he would want to buy. It’s all fifties style, the entire estate is. Big-enough bungalows with pastel walls and inviting doors with a small porch, just enough for the entry-way and a chair. I knock on the door, exhausted from the past 72 hours. Aaron and I got in a fight before we got to Ohio, it was unnecessary, but we fought all the same. He was mad at me for giving Jack advice that led to a fight between them. I just wanted to kiss and make up 3 days ago but he won’t budge. Maybe it’s because he knows I’m right and doesn’t want to confront it or maybe it’s because I took it too far and overstepped. Jack calls me ‘mom’, I live with him, and Jack came to me for support, he wanted guidance and I gave him it. He was mad at his dad because he missed meeting his girlfriend. His girlfriend, Ava, was a lovely girl, I had been the one there when Jack brought her over for dinner, I was the one trying to suss out if they actually liked each other, and I was the one Jack sat down with for 2 hours after and told everything about her to. All because Aaron was too busy with paperwork in his study. Jack was hurt, which is difficult to do because he’s such an understanding 16 year-old boy. It was also hard because I saw both sides. I’ll be the first to admit that what Aaron did was wrong, but our job is hard and demanding, especially his since he’s the leader of our team… But Jack just wanted 2 hours of his time, not even, just a dinner. A dinner to meet his girlfriend, and Aaron still couldn’t make it. 
I knock again as I huff. 
“Everything alright?” Morgan asks, the regular playful glint in his eye. 
“Tired, mad, over this job. You?” I sigh. 
“Sounds about right,” He chuckles. “How’s Jack doing?” 
A smile spreads across my face. “He has a girlfriend,” Morgan’s face lights up in a smile. 
“My man,” He smirks and I chuckle. “You two met her yet?” 
My face drops again. “I have, Aaron… couldn’t make it to the dinner though. She’s lovely, perfect for Jack. It's so funny, it’s just opposites attract. Jack is so sporty and outspoken and she’s one of the quieter, more into her studies kind of person.” 
The door swings open and we’re met with David, our witness. 
“You two know what time it is?” He yawns. 
“Oh trust us, we know,” Morgan sighs. “Can we ask you a few more questions?” 
“It’s 10pm at night? Can’t this wait ‘till the morning?”
“It’ll only take a few minutes,” I reassure. 
He looks between us for a moment, then sighs. “Quickly.”
We walk inside and are immediately hit with an awful smell. I know that smell. That’s when I see it, a body.
And that’s when it all goes black. 
I wake up in a new room, tied to a chair. I don’t see Derrick anywhere. I don’t see David anywhere. I’m all alone in this grey room. I don’t see a door but I notice a camera, and a screen in front of me. I see Penelope on the screen, then a sign above it with “Don’t make noise” scribbled. I look to my left and see a plastic window, I see Morgan through it, tied up too. He sees me. 
“Y/n? Y/n?! Where are you?” Penelope squeals. I shake my head and she picks up her phone and tries calling mine, it rings and I feel something go into my side. I scream out in pain as I see the blood start trickling out of me. Penelope drops her phone, then picks it up, dialling someone else’s number. 
I get switched to a joint call with Penelope, and the rest of the team, excluding Aaron. 
“Y/n?” Spencer asks and I nod, sobbing in pain. Spencer runs off-screen, leaving Jj and Emily to stare in horror at me.
Spencer comes back with Aaron and we make eye-contact through the screen, and he starts breaking. He’s shouting orders at the policemen in the precinct, he’s shouting orders at the team, and he’s trying not to cry. I know that. I also know I’m the only one who knows that. He hides it pretty well but not from me, not after all of our years together. His eyes squint, his eyebrows furrow more than usual, he starts biting at the skin around his nails. 
“We’re coming to find you. We will find you,” he promises me. I nod slowly as the pain in my side becomes unbearable as the knife is pulled out. 
“Is Morgan with you?” Emily asks and I nod as I bite my lip until it bleeds to stop myself from making too much noise. 
“Is he in the room with you?” Spencer asks. 
I shake my head no. After what feels like an eternity of yes or no questions, they think they’ve located us.I hear banging on the door and then it opens. Spencer is standing there with an entire Swat team behind him. I shake my head to tell them to not make noise but they talk anyway and another knife is put into my leg, I don’t have the strength to stay quiet this time and another finds its way into my arm. I pass out. 
I wake up in a hospital bed, an IV in my arm, Aaron on one side and Jack on the other. Aaron’s asleep in a chair on my left, I grimace, knowing his back will hurt. 
“Mom?!” Jack exclaims as he sees me open my eyes. “Mom!” His eyes fill with tears as he gets up and wraps his arms around me on the bed. 
“Jack,” I sigh in relief. 
“You’re okay! You’re awake!” He smiles brightly, happy that I’m alive. 
Aaron wakes up from the commotion and rushes to my side. “Honey?” He takes my hand and squeezes. “You’re okay.”
I smile at both of them. 
“I’ll go get the doctor,” Jack smiles and he rushes off to find a doctor. 
“Honey I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have-” He starts but I cut him off. 
“I love you.” 
“I love you too,” he sighs, tears welling up in his eyes.
“Don’t go all soft now Aaron,” I joke. 
“You make me soft,” He smiles and presses a soft kiss to my cheek. 
Jack comes back in with a doctor. She tells me that I lost a lot of blood and that I will be out of the field for a few months, with 2 weeks of mandatory bedrest, then 4 weeks of physical therapy. 
The next day, the team come in to visit. 
“Hey,” Spencer smiles, walking in first. I’ve always been close to Spencer, he’s always felt like a little brother to me. 
“Hey,” I smile and wince when I hug him, but I know it’s worth it. The rest of the team filter in, smiles on their faces.“So what happened after I went out?”
“Well, they got me, no injuries apart from a concussion,” Morgan says. 
“We got the guy-” Emily starts.
“Aaron got the guy,” Spencer interrupts. “He saw him and just shot him-”
“And then he beat the crap out of him,” Jj says. “It was pretty intense.”
I nod along as they tell me the story, and then we just talk about whatever until Aaron comes in and says visiting hours are over. Spencer leaves me a few more books to read and Jj brings Jack to Ava’s house for the night. Aaron walks in with my dinner on a tray. 
“Hungry?” He smiles. 
“You shot someone for me?” I ask as he places my tray down.
“Yes.”
I roll my eyes and smile at him. “Is he alive?”
“No.” 
My face drops. “Oh.” 
“It was the combined bleeding and head trauma that killed him.”
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
“I did.” 
I look at my food. “I understand you wanted to protect me-”
“I did that because he doesn’t get to live after doing this to you. Honey, you and Jack are the most important people in my life and I would do anything if it meant that you were safe and sound. Do you want to know how it felt to have what could’ve been my last words to you be ‘stop bothering me’? I was an asshole to you over the Jack situation because I knew you were right. I knew it wasn’t fair to not go to dinner when I was in the house. I knew it was important and it just felt too real. It felt like he was growing up and I just couldn’t take it because I missed so much of his childhood! So I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry that I said everything I said and did what I did, but I am not sorry about hurting that fucking monster,” He takes a deep breath. “Now eat up, it’ll go cold.”
“I love you Aaron, it’s ok. It wasn’t your fault, being a parents is hard.” 
His eyes fill with tears and he looks at me like an injured puppy. 
“Come here,” I smile and move over, allowing room for him to sit with me. He climbs into bed beside me and wraps his arms around me, being careful of my wounds. 
“I love you,” he whispers as I slowly eat my food. 
“I love you too.”
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