#and it's very freeing i can say SWEARS and the fbi will never find me lmao

[erijonarexhepis-blog]

ARE YOU THE MOLE?

SEASON SIX, EPISODE NINE

Masterlist

"I CAN'T FIND MY KEYS," Michaela complained. April, who was standing the closest to her, turned to look at her.

"They're in your hands." Michaela chuckled when she looked down and saw that she was holding them. They were wearing their graduation gowns and caps.

"Hello, is the FBI in there?" Connor called out.

Michaela finally managed to unlock the door. "That joke wasn't funny the first time," she told Connor, annoyed.

Michaela opened the door. "Everyone chug," Asher said. He gave the orange juice to April as they walked in. They were hoping the organs juice would sober them up— they were high.

"Why do we want this feeling to end?" Oliver walked in last and closed the door. They were carrying grocery bags.

"I just want to feel normal," Michaela muttered, taking the orange juice from April. Her phone started ringing.

"FBI?" Connor asked. He was no different now than when he was sober, except now he was thinking out loud.

"Unknown caller."

"Maybe it's Peyton ready for round 2." They went to the kitchen. Michaela declined the call.

"April did give Peyton my number instead of her own." Michaela looked over at April with a slight glare.

April was sitting by the counter. She shrugged. "She's lucky I didn't knock out her fake teeth."

"Only 'cause I stopped you," Asher said.

"Can we talk about what happened right after that?" Oliver asked. He was the most out of it.

"No," Michaela deadpanned.

"Why don't you just say yes?"

"I'm high, not insane."

"Ouch," Connor muttered. Michaela's phone started ringing again.

Michaela looked at her phone. "Now they're FaceTiming me." They all glanced at each other, wondering who this could be. "I'm just gonna answer."

Connor stepped forward. "Michaela, no."

But Michaela didn't listen. And she answered the call. "Hello?" The phone was glitching. The rest gathered to see who this person was.

They were shocked when the phone stopped glitching, and a face appeared. "It's me, Michaela."

"Laurel?!"

"Oh, my god," Connor mumbled.

"Are we hallucinating?" Oliver questioned.

They hadn't seen Laurel in a very long time, and she was calling. "Just— okay, listen."

"Are you the mole?"

"No! It wasn't me, I swear," she told Michaela. "I would never turn you guys in, okay? But, obviously, someone else did."

REWIND; 10:03 am

"You're all wondering why I called you here today," Annalise started. Her students on their seats, paying attention. "You passed your final exam. Tomorrow, you graduate. But I had to say something before we part way for good."

"I know that you all ask yourselves why I'm still here, teaching, considering the hot mess my life has been the last three years. Well, the answer is simple— you."

"No one should be falsely accused of crimes they didn't commit. But it happens to people far worse off than me. And here's where you come in. I teach so that some of you will make sure that the Justice system lives up to its name. Even though I know that most of you will sell out and do corporate, some of you— the brave ones— will forge your own path, a path that doesn't put money or greed or glory first, but your clients."

"So think hard about who you want to be because, in 24 hours, you graduate, and you'll be free of me... free from Middleton... free from your families. So, whoever you decide to be, make yourself proud."

"That was a drunk speech," Connor muttered. They entered the house.

"Yeah," Michaela agreed. "That was a get lost and be nothing like me because my life's a huge disaster speech."

"Annalise gave a speech?" Oliver asked. He was sitting on the couch in the living room.

"Yeah," Connor replied. "She basically told us to go out into the world and be good people."

"Drunk speech," April added. "A good drunk speech."

"On that note, I have gifts." Oliver handed each of them a small box.

"Oooh! Tiny puppies?" Asher gushed.

"No. It's better. Open up."

April opened her gift, and she was surprised by what she saw, especially because it was from Oliver. "Wow," she chuckled. "I was not expecting this."

"What is it?" Michaela asked, confused.

"Are we taking a cooking class, Oli?" Asher asked Oliver.

"They're shrooms," Connor stated.

"They're psilocybin mushrooms that can heal psychic wounds— you know, like, from the last three years," Oliver informed.

"Or unlock all of the deeds that we've worked very hard to bury."

"Okay, which is it?" Michaela asked, glancing between Oliver and Asher.

"Asher's wrong. I'm right. It'll be fun...gi." Oliver chuckled at his own joke.

Connor didn't seem to like the idea. "We're supposed to meet my mom for dinner soon."

"I texted her and told her I was taking you out for dinner, and she should just meets us here tomorrow before the ceremony."

"Looks like you've got it all covered," April said. She was holding the mushroom. "Are we doing this or what?"

"Yes, that's the spirit!" Oliver cheered.

"Screw it!" Michaela declared, wanting to do it as well.

"Yeah, what the hell?" Connor mumbled. A little wouldn't hurt.

"Bon voyage."

꧁ ꧂

"YOU CAN'T FIND HER?" Michaela was standing with her arms crossed, gazing at Bonnie and Frank. They were all in the living room of the house.

"She went to the dean's party," Frank replied.

"Or she took off," Connor muttered. He went to stand next to April.

Bonnie seemed frustrated, and they couldn't really blame her for that. "Annalise is the one with her name spread all over the news. If anyone gets to panic here, it's her."

"How do we know she's not the informant?"

Frank quickly shut the idea down. "Shut the hell up." He knew Annalise more than the students did.

"She gave a cheesy goodbye speech this morning."

"This could be anyone." Frank was not happy that Connor was trying to put the blame on Annalise. "Xavier's making crap up."

"Gabriel?" Michaela asked.

"One of you?" Bonnie shot back.

"It's obvious who it is," Asher spoke up. "Laurel." Frank narrows his eyes at him.

Oliver let out a laugh, quickly covering his mouth with his hands. They all looked at him. "Oliver," April scolded him.

"I'm sorry," Oliver laughed. "I know it's not funny."

Frank frowned. "What's wrong with him?" He pointed at Oliver.

"He took mushrooms," Connor stated.

"We all did," April added.

Frank gave them a look of disapproval. "Morons."

"They're not working on the rest of us," Connor said in an attempt to defend himself.

Michaela was holding her head. "Not true." She sighed. "Oh, no. I think the panic sped up the digestion, and, yeah, it's working." She took a seat. "And I don't like it. I don't like it at all. I hate you, Oliver."

Oliver was still laughing. "Just— stay here," Frank ordered them and turned to leave with Bonnie.

April followed them to the door. "Why didn't you guys tell me about Miller?" She could feel the mushroom starting to take effect.

Frank and Bonnie glanced at each other. "You've been through enough already," she told April.

"What's done is done," Frank added. "Go back to your friends." He then left along with Bonnie.

꧁ ꧂

"ALRIGHT. BUDDY SYSTEM. No man left behind." Asher waved his arm, letting the other walk past him in the aisle. They were at the store, looking for something sweet to eat.

April and Michaela were looking for candy. "This." April grabbed a small bag of sweets. "My favorite." She smiled brightly as she opened it right there.

Michaela laughed as she watched April struggle with opening the bag. "Aren't you supposed to be a genius?"

April laughed with her. "I am?" The laughter soon died down.

"Oh, my god." April and Michaela straightened up and saw Peyton standing there. She looked surprised to see them.

"Oh, my god," April mocked her.

"Sorry, I just... well, I thought you all might be somewhere else," Peyton explained with a shrug. "Like jail."

April gave a fake chuckle, approaching Peyton. "For what?" Her smile dropped. "For beating your ass?"

"Hey, there's no need for that." Asher pulled April back. "We're all friends here."

Peyton ignored Asher. "I'll tell Gabriel you said hi." She turned and left.

April growled and stepped toward her but was stopped by Asher. "Okay. No, no, no. We're not doing that." He pulled her back to the group, and she started eating her candy again, calming down.

"I'm high, not insane."

"Ouch," Connor muttered. Michaela's phone started ringing again.

Michaela looked at her phone. "Now they're FaceTiming me." They all glanced at each other, wondering who this could be. "I'm just gonna answer."

Connor stepped forward. "Michaela, no."

But Michaela didn't listen. And she answered the call. "Hello?" The phone was glitching. The rest gathered to see who this person was.

They were shocked when the phone stopped glitching and a face appeared. "It's me, Michaela."

"Laurel?!"

"Oh, my god," Connor mumbled.

"Are we hallucinating?" Oliver questioned.

They hadn't seen Laurel in a very long time, and she was calling. "Just— okay, listen."

"Are you the mole?"

"No! It wasn't me, I swear," she told Michaela. "I would never turn you guys in, okay? But, obviously, someone else did."

"How do you know about any of this?"

"I saw the news."

"How?" Asher asked, still shocked. "W-where are you?"

"Listen, I can't say in case my brother's listening."

"Laurel, you ruined our lives."

"I'm sorry, okay?" Laurel told Michaela. "But someone who knows everything turned on you. And I swear on Christopher's life, it wasn't me."

Oliver was unsure. "How do we know that Christopher's still alive?"

"He's right here." Laurel pinned the camera down, revealing Christopher.

"Oh, my god," Michaela muttered under her breath. Laurel put the camera back on herself again.

"How do we know that the FBI didn't put you up to this?" Connor questioned.

"They didn't."

"But they're who helped you disappear, right? Y-you're in witness protection?"

"No."

"Christopher didn't crawl out of this house on his own. Someone had to help you do all this."

"I did," April stated. They turned to her, shocked by the revelation. "Tegan and I helped Laurel disappear."

"It's true," Laurel told them. "They helped me. And I'm not the informant, I swear. Okay?"

"We don't believe you!" Connor snapped at her.

"I love you all." Laurel hung up.

"Tegan's not answering." Michaela put her phone away.

"Maybe she's the mole," Asher stated. "Or Laurel."

"It's not Laurel," April told him, starting to get annoyed by that theory. She had always been loyal.

"It's probably Annalise," Connor said. "The goodbye speech, the whole Snow White and the murderous dwarfs exam. It's her. She's the informant."

"It doesn't make any sense," April argued. "I mean, everything would lead back to her. It would make her a bigger suspect to the police and the FBI."

"It makes more sense that it's Tegan," Asher said, somewhat siding with April. "Or Gabriel. Or your mom," he said to April.

"Gabriel doesn't know anything."

"Neither does my mom," April added after Connor. She was looking at Asher, just like Michaela was. They both thought he was acting weird.

"It's Annalise," Connor went back to that. "She's doing what she should've done the night with Sam."

"Fine," Asher gave in. "Maybe you're right," he told Connor. "Maybe it's AK."

"It's not Annalise," April stated. She was staring at Asher. "But you knew that."

Michaela spoke up, siding with April. "It's why you didn't take the mushrooms. You were probably scared you'd reveal something."

"It's not me," Asher insisted.

Connor seemed to believe April and Michaela. "You do keep pointing your finger at everyone else."

"This is how these stupid leaks work. They get us all paranoid, so we turn on each other. And then all the hard work we did to have each other's backs, to be loyal, to trust each other— that goes out the window the second we all turn on our own, okay? We're family. You're my family. I would never... I wouldn't...," he trails off.

April crossed her arms. "Tell us the truth, Asher." Michaela seemed especially hurt by this. She was tearing up knowing one of her closest friends turned on her. "It's you."

Asher seemed regretful. Taking his time to answer because he knew how they would react. They were not going to trust him anymore. He ruined the relationship he had with the people closest to him. "Yeah," he breathed out— confirming their theory.

"And I know that Karen has been working with them too. That's why she was released early. Look, the good thing is, I-I haven't given the FBI anything concrete yet," Asher cried.

April looked at him, feeling betrayed. And maybe that was why she was tearing up, or perhaps it was the mushrooms. She didn't know, but the feeling of betrayal or overwhelming.

"That's— that's why they haven't arrested any of us. Everything we saw on the news about— about them thinking that more than one person was involved in Sam's murder? That's all stuff that they suspected before. I promise, I never got anyone on record saying anything—" Asher was cut off mid-sentence when he was hit in the back of the head with a fire poker. This knocked him unconscious— his body fell to the ground.

"Why did you do that?" Michaela asked, freaked out. Oliver was standing by Asher with the fire poker in his hand.

"I don't know, I don't know, I don't know."

"Someone check if he's dead."

April kneeled next to Asher and checked his pulse. "He's fine." He was bleeding from his head. She was keeping an eye on him, trying to ignore the arguing coming from the other three in the room.

"Guys!" April interrupted their bickering when she noticed Asher opening his eyes.

Michaela kneeled next to him. "Asher?" Oliver kept apologizing for what he did. "Are you okay?"

Asher blinked a few times, adjusting to the light. "I'm calling an ambulance."

"No, no, no, no," Asher protested. "I'm good." He touched the back of his head. His hand got stained with blood, and he wiped it on his shirt.

"Get a towel," Michaela told Connor, who left to get one. "It's probably a scalp wound. Those— those bleed a lot."

April got up. "Excuse me," she mumbled before leaving the house.

Connor and Michaela walked out to the porch and saw April sitting there alone. She looked calmer, and the mushrooms had almost passed through her system. They sat next to her.

"Maybe he's right," Connor said after a brief pause.

"You think so?"

"What choice do we have?"

"I'm not making this decision on shrooms."

April then spoke up. "We have at least two hours before we have to line up."

Connor and Michaela turned to her. He looked at her with a frown, not understanding why she was bringing that up after what happened with Asher. "Are you kidding me?"

April turned to them. "I don't know about you, but I'm graduating."

Michaela nodded, siding with April. "Me too. That's who I am— a brilliant, come-from-nothing badass boss who's not going to let some stupid boy or the FBI get in her formidable way."

"Asher?!" They heard Oliver yell. The three got up and went back inside, wondering what was happening. "Asher?!"

"Where is he?" Michaela asked, running over to Oliver.

"I went to get a fresh towel, and he's gone," Oliver explained. The back door was open.

Oliver had cleaned the floor. "See? Clean as a whistle, like it never happened."

"It happened."

Michaela made her way down the stairs. "We're not talking about that today." 

"Right." Oliver looked at his friends, who were all ready to graduate. "You look great."

"We look like ass," Connor deadpanned.

"Looking like ass is better than not graduating at all," April stated. She was sitting on the couch, still thinking about Asher. She looked tired. There was a knock on the door. "Great."

"Pam's early. Twenty bucks says her first question is where is Asher?" Connor went to answer the door, and it was not Pam.

"Are you Connor Walsh?" The woman at the door asked. April went and stood next to Oliver and Michaela.

"Yeah."

The woman walked past him with two men behind her. "Michaela Pratt and April Coleman?"

April and Michaela glanced at each other confused. "Yes," they replied.

"You three are under arrest for murder." The students started arguing with them— why were they under arrest? Why was this happening now?

The woman put cuffs on April— Connor and Michaela were also being handcuffed. "Wait! Who died?!" April demanded. She looked the woman dead in the eyes.

"Asher Millstone," the woman answered. The answer shocked them. Asher left the house alive, so why were they being arrested? April was speechless.

"This is a big misunderstanding!" Oliver called out after them. The students were dragged out of the house by the agent and the officers.

꧁ ꧂

FLASH FORWARD

There was memorial service sometime in the future, and there was a big crowd. A woman was standing in front of them, sharing kind words about the departed. A man, who resembled Wes to a T, made his way through the crowd. He wanted to be at the front and perhaps share a few words.

#femoc #femlead #michaelapratt #murdermystery #familydrama #femalelead #murder #annalisekeating #frankdelfino #laurelcastillo #coliver #laurel castillo #bonniewinterbottom

[differentkettleoffishalltogether]

#1 Fan [Part 1/2]

Summary: Spencer knows he’s seen his new neighbor somewhere before.

A/N: This was a blurb request from my sideblog that got completely out of hand so here she is as a full fic! (We’re gonna pretend like I know how OnlyFans works)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff & Smut 

Warnings/Includes: smut, graphic descriptions of sexual acts, masturbation (male & female), voyeurism(?), please let me know if there’s anything I’ve missed!

Word count: 2.9k

Request: “Blurb about basically the same fic as the other one except she just moved in and he recognizes her as the person he subs to on OF. She’s describing her hot neighbor- and yeah” from @thatsonezesty13​

Masterlist

Read Part 2 Here

The first time Spencer sees her in the lobby grabbing her mail he thinks he’s in a dream. Or maybe he’s seeing things. For a second he’s terrified that he’s having a hyper-realistic, yet somehow mundane, wet dream.

He’s been subscribed to her for a while. To be honest once he’d found her account he didn’t have much of a need to subscribe to anyone else. She was almost tailor made for him, it was sort of scary.

So when he saw her that day, and she smiled at him, giving him a small wave as she passed him in the hall, his heart all but stopped.

That night he checked her page. He compared the pictures of the sweet girl in the hall with the ones in front of him. The photos where she was wearing next to nothing, or sometimes nothing at all. The ones where she had her fingers inside of her panties, or her mouth.

He ended up spiraling that evening, partially forgetting why he was even looking in the first place. Until he was watching videos of her, fucking into herself with a toy until she was squirting onto her bedsheets.

The following morning when he woke up he tried to convince himself that it wasn’t her. How could it be? And if it was, would he have to stop looking? Something felt a bit perverted about that.

So he pushed the thoughts from his head. And that lasted all of 10 seconds because there was a knock on his front door. When he opened it up it was her standing there, the girl from the mailboxes, and the girl from the videos. He knew they were one and the same, who was he kidding?

“Hi!” She sticks out her hand to introduce herself, “I think I saw you the other day, I’ve just moved into the building, Y/N.”

He knows her name already, well he knows her first name, and part of him’s a little surprised it’s not fake.

He takes a moment to consider her hand, he wouldn’t usually shake a strangers hand like this but for some reason he didn’t feel like she was a stranger. The real reason her didn’t want to shake her hand was because of all the things he’d pictured her doing with them. Touching herself, touching him.

But he’s hesitated for too long, so he takes her hand, shaking it gently, “Spencer, Dr. Spencer Reid. Nice to— uh, meet you” he has to force his breaths out or they might not come. Looking at her up close, in person, she was too beautiful. And he already thought that about her pictures.

“Well it’s nice to meet you, I always like to know the folks in my building. And especially you if we’re gonna be neighbors”

“Neighbors?” He tries to stop his eyes from popping out of his head but she doesn’t seem to notice. She just nods happily.

“Yup, I’m right on the other side of that wall” she points to her right and giggles, “knock if you need me” she jokes but Spencer’s breathing stops entirely and he can only nod.

“So um, if you wanted to hang out or anything you know where to find me” she smiles at him and starts to head back to her apartment.

He’s not sure what’s come over him, but it feels like adrenaline is coursing through his entire body as he speaks.

“I’m free right now if you’re not busy?” He asks before she can get too far away but she shakes her head.

“I’ve actually gotta head out for a bit but if you’re free tomorrow do you wanna come over and see my place. I’m sure it’s probably the exact same as yours but—”

“Yes!— I mean, um, yeah, that sounds nice, cool” she laughs at him a little, probably at his eagerness, or maybe at the way he’s blushing, he can feel the heat radiating from his cheeks.

“See you then Spencer, Dr. Spencer Reid” she giggles and he’s smitten already.

— —

He’s pretty much counting down the seconds until the following evening. His mind is completely restless, he’s got no idea what to wear or how to act, or what to say.

She was just so pretty, he could barely have a 2 minute conversation with her in the hallway. How was he supposed to hang out with her for an evening.

She slips a note under his door the following afternoon:

I’m on my way out but I should be back around 8! See you then x

He wishes he didn’t stare at the little ‘x’ on the note for quite so long but he couldn’t help it. Even her handwriting was cute.

He doesn’t want to think about why he knows her already but he can’t help it. He decides that he’s not going to look at her page again, taking a cold shower as part of his preparation for that evening before agonizing over what to wear.

He settles on a purple sweater and he already feels like he’s made the wrong call somehow as he’s knocking on her door at 8pm on the dot.

“Well aren’t you punctual” she smiles at him as she pulls open the door. His stomach drops when he realizes that he recognizes the little dress she’s wearing. He’s seen her take it off before. He tries to steady his breathing but it doesn’t work super well so he just waves hello as she ushers him inside.

“I guess you got my note then” she smiles and he smiles back.

“Yeah, your— um— handwriting is really nice” he wants to slap himself in the face. What kind of complement was that?

“Thank you?” she giggles at him, “no ones ever said that before, you’re a bit of an oddball” she points him to the sofa so he sits.

When she comes to sit next to him she’s holding a bottle of wine and two glasses and he has to stop his eyes from bulging out of his head.

“Would you like a glass?” She asks and he nods his head, it probably wasn’t a great idea, but neither was any of this. She hands him a glass of wine and takes the seat next to him on the couch, turning to face him as she tucks her legs up under herself.

“So Spencer Reid, what kind of doctor are you?” she asks as she takes a sip from her own glass.

“I’m—um— I work at the FBI actually, I— I’m a profiler” he’s already conscious that he doesn’t want to bore her by harping on about work, or by rambling like he does right before people usually roll their eyes. But she doesn’t, she leans in.

“That’s so cool, well it sounds like it is anyway? Does that mean you read people or something?” her eyes look like they're after lighting up and she's smiling at him encouraging.

“Y-Yeah? It’s sort of like reading people I guess. We catch killers by getting inside their heads in a way, trying to figure out why they’re doing what they’re doing, and hopefully what they’re gonna do next so that we can stop it. It’s a little more complicated than that, but that’s the gist” he’s smiling now too, the way she’s looking at him makes him feel like he’s actually doing a sort of good job not embarrassing himself.

“So you said my handwriting was nice” she says, gears clearly turning, “Can you read anything about me from that?” she looks like she's challenging him, if he didn’t know better he might call it flirting.

“Well actually graphology—sorry— handwriting analysis has been deemed a pseudoscience by most, the validity of handwriting as evidence in court has always been dubious and many of the techniques used today are the same as those employed in Renaissance England.” he rambles but she’s still engaged when he stops speaking.

“So you’re smart smart, huh?” she smiles at him, and he nods.

“I don’t believe intelligence can be neatly quantified but I do have an IQ of 187” he feels paradoxically stupid saying that, it feels like bragging or something and he already wants to take it back.

“Wow, a doctor with an IQ of 187” she takes a second to mull it over, “What are you doing hanging out with the likes of me?” she jokes, but his eyebrows knit together, he had no idea what she did, other than that thing he knew she did.

“I wouldn't sell yourself short like that, what do you do?” he asks her, at the very least it’ll stop him from spiraling.

“I work in a vintage bookstore, the one two blocks over?” She motions behind her as she tells him, and he knows it well, in fact he spends so much time there that he’s shocked he’d never seen her before.

“You work there? I’m there all the time, how have I never noticed you before?” she chuckles at him.

“I’ve only just started, I just moved in, remember?” and he wants to slap himself again, something about being around such a pretty face slashed that impressive IQ in half.

They spend another while and the rest of the bottle of wine getting to know each other before Spencer has to call it a night. Part of him wished that she was boring, or rude, or hated him, then maybe he’d be able to quell his infatuation. But this just made it worse, now that he knew her, now that he had spoken to her and she was so sweet, so smart, so funny, and still so damn pretty. He was absolutely fucked.

— —

He swears to himself that the wont look at her page again. Now that he knew her and he liked her more than he even did before, it felt like a real invasion. Part of him still felt bad about it in general, like he should've told her right away, been up front. But the moment for that had already passed so this was his next best plan.

Until he returns home the following Friday. He’s exhausted when he crawls into bed but he’s still somehow restless, the gears still turning in is brain. So he does what he always does when he wants to forget about everything else in the world.

His muscle memory opens it up, and he’s on her page before he even realizes he's done it. And she’s posted a few new videos this week. He wishes he had better willpower, or any willpower at all, but he can’t seem to stop himself from clicking on one.

It begins with her kneeling on her bed, wearing lingerie he’d seen before, it was baby pink and it was one of his favorites. She starts by dipping her fingers into her panties, teasing herself as little moans toppled from her lips. Then she started talking.

“I’m gonna tell you guys about a little dream I had last night, well, I’ve been having it all week really” she continues to tease herself a little, her other hand coming up to grab her breast over her soft pink bra as she speaks. Her voice is smooth and perfect, if he only had the audio he’d still be turned on right now.

“It goes like this. I’m lying in this bed right here, doing something a little like this, when there’s a knock at my front door. When I get up to answer it he’s there, with his shaggy brown hair, and his huge doe eyes, and he’s got these lips that are just so fuckin’ pink. I want them all over me. He comes inside and he grabs me with those huge hands of his and he pulls me right into him before he kisses me.” she moans a little as her fingers brush right up against her clit, but Spencer’s vision has almost gone blurry.

He’s not sure he’s even breathing when she starts talking again. “Then I lead him to my bedroom, and I get him out of those clothes. He dresses like an english teacher and I wish I didn’t find it so fuckin’ hot. Sometimes in the fantasy I take his cock in my mouth, I suck him off until he’s whimpering. Other times I can’t wait, I just need him to fuck me right away.” she takes off her panties then, leaving them to one side, while she grabs a toy from her bedside table.

“I like to fuck myself with this, but all week I’ve just been imagining that it’s him. He’s just so pretty, I know his cock has to be too. I want to know what it feels like when he’s buried inside me, so fuckin’ deep” she continues to fuck herself with the toy, and he’s tuned back in now, he’s achingly hard without even noticing, his hand wrapping around his cock as he pictures the other side of that fantasy.

It doesn’t take long before he's releasing, spilling all over his hand in tandem with the video. She takes a moment to relax, steadying out her breathing before she speaks to the camera again.

“I think I have a crush guys” she gasps out, “I moved, and I think I’ve got a crush on my fuckin’ neighbor already”

Not that he needed any more confirmation, but those words hit him like a fucking train.

It’s already midnight, it’s not so late that he couldn’t go over there, but it sort of is late enough that he shouldn’t. He really can’t bring himself to care though, getting out of bed and cleaning himself up he decides to ride this uncharacteristically confident wave as far as it’ll take him.

He’s knocking on her door before he’s had a chance to second guess himself. When she answers she’s in a little robe, it’s ivory and satin, and he recognizes it too. He doesn’t say anything, neither does she. They just look at each other for a little too long, eyes taking each other in. He wants to lean in and kiss her, just like in her fantasy, but he’s not that guy.

“Hi” he breathes out instead, “I know it’s late, sorry, I shouldn’t be here—but I— I just wanna say” he pauses to take in a labored breath, “I like you a lot and I think you’re really pretty and funny and smart and would you wanna go out sometime? With me? Maybe?” he doesn't realize he’s closed this eyes until he’s got to pry them back open.

“Well that’s not how the fantasy was supposed to go” she giggles, her eyelashes fluttering as she looks up at him and the blush that’s steadily spreading up his face and neck.

“What do you— I don’t— what?” he’s stammering, doing a god awful job of playing dumb.

“In my video, you were just supposed to kiss me. This isn’t as sexy but it is a hell of a lot better”

“I don’t— I’m not—” he can’t get a sentence out, he’s got no idea what’s happening right now.

“It’s alright Dr. 187, I know it’s you” some part of him genuinely wants to throw up. Why did he think that would be an innocuous username. He was the stupidest genius alive.

“I’m sorry, I should've told you. I had no idea how, I just never thought— how could I have known you’d move in next door to me? And that you’d be even prettier in person but you’d be so cool too” he’s got to cut himself off before he really starts apologetically rambling.

“Spencer stop. It’s fine. I make that content for people to enjoy, you’ve got nothing to feel guilty about. I made that video because I wanted you to see it, that was intentional.” she reaches out and places a hand on his shoulder, and it’s more comforting than it has any right to be.

“Was that—your fantasy—the uh the video—were you telling the truth?” he can feel his heart absolutely racing in his chest as he waits for the answer. And she breaks out in a huge smile, nodding up at him.

“Every word.” he doesn’t let himself overthink it this time, he just leans right in, pressing his lips to hers. It’s soft and gentle, a sweet kiss rather than a heated one, it’s not just infatuation, there are feelings behind it now. He can feel her lips smiling against his own and his heart’s fit to burst now.

When they break apart she looks giddy with excitement, her hands come down to the little bow that holds her robe closed, toying with the ends of the tie. “I’m actually about to make a video now if you’d like to see behind the scenes?” she asks and his breath gets stuck in his throat.

“Fuck” he rasps, “You’ve got no idea how much I want to do that” he pauses, scolding himself in his head already, “But I think I wanna take you to dinner first, if you still want that?”

She’s grinning at him again, “I still really want that, tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow night.”

-- --

Comments, reblogs, and tags are always appreciated, I love you all x

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Read Part 2 Here

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[shemarmooresfedora]

Protective of the Princess

Summary: Jo comes home with some unexpected news and Spencer isn’t a fan. (This is a stand-alone one-shot of my completed ‘Rebuilding Family’ series)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content/Warnings: mentions of little kids kissing, spencer freaking out, fluff

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: based on this ask from @reidsbookclub and this ask from @samuel-de-champagne-problems

Masterlist

Spencer made it clear to Jo she could be anything she wanted to be growing up.

She would change her mind about her career path quite often but Spencer was always supportive. When she wanted to be a vet, she had a bunch of different stuffed animals to practice on. When she wanted to be an astronaut, you all built a rocket ship out of a cardboard box. When she wanted to be a scientist, Spencer got her a book set of kid’s science books.

One afternoon after school, Jo hopped up on the kitchen counter as Spencer was making her a snack and you were playing with the twins on the floor.

“Daddy, I can’t go to work any more,” Jo stated.

“Why not, Princess?” Spencer asked, sliding apple slices and peanut butter in front of her.

“I have a baby and husband now,” Jo explained.

“You got a baby and husband in one day?” you questioned.

“Thomas kissed me and then we got married under the slide at recess and now we have a baby. I don’t have time for work, Daddy,” Jo sounded exasperated.

“Thomas did WHAT?” Spencer gaped.

“He kissed me like you kiss Mommy every morning before work,” she demonstrated the little peck on her baby doll.

Spencer’s eyes widened, “Y/N, please help.”

You stood from the blanket where the twins were having tummy time.

“Jo, how about you wait until you’re a little older to start kissing people? A hug or high five can show love to. You can try that next time,” you suggested.

“Daddy says kissing is safer than handshakes though,” Jo reminded you.

“Nope! I lied! Kissing is very dangerous,” Spencer shook his head empathically, “Don’t kiss.”

“But we have a baby together,” Jo held up her baby doll.

“I see that. What’s their name?” you asked.

“This is Derek,” she informed you.

“You named him after your uncle? That’s very sweet,” you smiled.

“I want a real one so I can name it Penelope. I want to have a big belly like Mommy used to have. How are babies made?” she questioned.

Spencer grasped your hand, looking very pale, “Y/N, I need to lie down.”

“One second, love,” you squeezed his hand before turning back to Jo, “You can’t have a baby until you’re much older. Then, I’ll explain it to you, okay?”

Jo nodded.

“I need to take Daddy to bed. He’s feeling a little sick,” you told her, “You can play with the twins.”

“Actually,” Spencer slipped his hand out of yours, “I’m going to go for a drive. I’ll be back in a bit.”

You looked at him curiously as he leaned in for a kiss but then retreated under the watchful eyes of Jo.

You followed him into the entryway as he laced his converse up, “Where are you going?”

“I’ve never heard of a Thomas before until now. I need Penelope to check this kid out.”

“Check this kid out?” you laughed, “What are you expecting to find? A nine year old with a criminal record?”

“I need to make sure my daughter is safe,” he looked up at you seriously.

“Okay,” you relented, “You’re a great dad albeit very protective,” you kissed him goodbye.

“Are we going to start having to only kiss in private now?” you smirked.

“I don’t want her seeing and copying it at school,” Spencer sighed, “The last thing I want is to get a phone call from her teacher that our daughter needs to stop kissing people.”

“Okay, sneaking around could be fun anyways,” you smiled, giving him another kiss, “Tell the team I say hi.”

-

“Who does this Thomas kid think he is?” Spencer grumbled to himself as he was in the elevator, “Kissing my sweet little precious daughter. I should have him arrested. Maybe I don’t have the grounds for an arrest but I can show him my badge and scare him off.”

His ranting stopped as he knocked on Penelope’s door.

“Who is it?” she chirped.

“Spencer,” he replied, “I brought you a croissant.”

“It’s open!”

Spencer opened the door and handed her the paper bag.

“And it’s still warm!” she squealed, “You must really love me.”

“I do but I also need a favor,” he spoke.

“Name it, boy wonder,” she readied herself at her keyboard.

“I need you to look up a boy named Thomas in Jo’s class.”

“Is this kid bullying her?” she gritted her teeth, “I swear to god, I will reign hell down on this kid if he is.”

“No, it’s the opposite actually. He kissed her,” Spencer sighed.

“She already got her first kiss?” Penelope gasped.

“I know! I didn’t even have mine until 25,” Spencer replied.

Penelope clicked away at her keys, “We’ve got two Thomases in her class but according to the attendance record, Thomas Jacobson was out sick today meaning Thomas Bennett is our guy.”

“What do we know about him?” Spencer asked, crouching down to look at Penelope’s screen.

“Plays on the town soccer team, has an allergy to shellfish, good report card,” Penelope stated.

“Anything else? Any visits to the principals? Sketchy friends?” he questioned.

“I guess the sketchiest friend he has would be his imaginary friend named Robby the cowboy according to his mom’s facebook. He’s got a squeaky clean school record.”

“Let me see what this kid looks like,” Spencer desperately demanded.

Penelope gave him a look.

“Please,” he added.

The group class pictures of the past 3 years popped up on to Penelope’s screen. Each year, Jo and Thomas were standing next to each other smiling and laughing in various poses.

“He doesn’t look like much of a threat to me,” Penelope stated.

“Why hasn’t she ever asked for him to come over on a playdate?” he asked.

“She was probably scared her dad was going to embarrass her,” Penelope chuckled.

“She’s in 3rd grade! No boys!” Spencer crossed his arms.

“That rule is setting you up for a rebellious stage later in life,” Penelope rolled her eyes.

“So I just let this happen?” Spencer sighed, dropping into the chair next to Penelope.

“Yes, you’re supposed to protect her but not from nice boys who make her happy.”

“But she’s just my sweet little girl,” Spencer started to tear up.

“And she always will be but you need to let her live her life,” Penelope explained.

“I know. Thanks Penelope.”

-

You heard the car pull in while you were making dinner. You lowered the setting on the stove and made your way over to the door.

“Hey,” you greeted him, wrapping your arms around him.

“Hi,” he snuggled into the crook of your nest.

“Did you find Thomas on the FBI’s most wanted list?” you joked.

“No, he’s a good kid,” Spencer sighed in defeat, “I just don’t like the thought of her growing up. Then, she’ll eventually have to leave us.”

“That’s what being a parent is,” you whispered, “You love them, care for them, and prepare them for the world as best you can but then you have to set them free. But, I have good news for you,” you smiled.

“What?”

“You’re stuck with me forever,” you grinned.

“Thank god,” Spencer squeezed you tighter.

“Daddy!” Jo ran into the room, “Lion King is playing in theaters tonight! We need to go!”

“Okay, Princess,” he looked to you for support and you squeezed his hand, “Do you think Thomas would want to come?”

“Yes! He loves Lion King!” Jo exclaimed, running to go get ready.

“You’re a great dad,” you reminded him once again.

“I’m still going to be watching this kid like a hawk,” Spencer admitted.

“As you should,” you grinned, kissing him.

Soon enough, Jo came home next week saying she wanted to be a congresswoman and they were back to their old adventures.

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[babymetaldoll]

I've been working out a little bit (Spencer Reid/Reader)

Requested: Yes.

Summary: Spencer has been working out with Penelope, and they are doing their best to keep it a secret. Until (Y/N) finds out and tries to help. And though he doesn't want to because he is embarrassed about his poor athletic performance, somehow she manages to help.  

Category: Fluff

Warnings: Curses, frustration. Good old fools in love.

Word count: 3.8K

A/N: Hello, pretty people! I've missed you! I hope you like this little story. It's one of the last requests pending on my list. Tomorrow I can finally visit my grandparents, I'll be taking care of them for at least two weeks, and though I know it's hard work, I am just so happy I can be with them again!! I miss them! Take care, whenever you are! Love you!

Masterlist

                                    𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁

- "No fucking way, Spencer!" (Y/N) widened her eyes and laughed so hard tears filled her eyes. She was sitting at her desk at work, staring at her best friend, who could barely walk due to the two hours he had spent that morning training with Penelope.

- "Please, don't tell anyone."- he whispered and looked around the bullpen. He was too embarrassed already to let anyone else know he had to take the mandatory fit test. He wanted to avoid the jokes, especially Derek's.

- "Your secret is safe with me, as always, chipmunk"- (Y/N) smiled and bit her lips, trying not to laugh anymore- "But why on earth are you working out? You have enough case hours to cover a fit test!"

- "Apparently, I can't skip it this year. Both me and Penelope have to take it."- Spencer whispered and sat down very slowly, pain written all over his face.

His best friend stared at him reading the mix of embarrassment and physical pain he felt with each movement he made. (Y/N) smiled and opened one of her drawers, looking for the last Snicker she had hidden in case of need. Watching Spencer in pain was precisely the case. She stood up and handed him the candy, making his heart skip a beat. Spencer did his best to hide the blush on his cheeks and just looked away.

- "I can help you if you want."- (Y/N) whispered and cut him the most adorable smile she had.

- "Help me what?"

- "Working out."- she replied and bit her granola bar- "I can teach you how to kick ass, and I do look hot wearing sweat shorts."

Spencer nearly chook. He flushed and closed his eyes, trying to cover up his embarrassment. But (Y/N) giggled and turned around. Her job there was done. Now Spencer had to be picturing her in her sweat shorts.

Of course, he was. He couldn't stop, actually.

The two agents were the youngest of the team, and somehow sometimes in-between cases, it showed. Especially when they were on their own, and their conversations ended up in casual flirting.

(Y/N) was head over feet in love with Spencer, though she was never going to face it. God knows Penelope had tried to force her to deal with her feelings. But she was closed as an oyster. No matter how much Garcia insisted or how drunk they were, (Y/N) kept denying her true feelings in public.

Spencer wasn't indifferent. Not at all. As a matter of fact, he was in love with (Y/N). Everything about her bewitched him. Ever since the first time he laid eyes on her, he felt it. She was tailor-made for him. If only he weren't a nervous wreck each time he saw her...

After two years working together, Spencer had managed to overcome part of my shyness and awkwardness around (Y/N). They were best friends, and they would usually hang out in their free time. The little free time they had in the BAU. But even when they could playfully flirt all the time, Spencer was sure she didn't like him that way. He convinced himself she was just joking.

--

(Y/N) headed to the Batcave holding a large frappuccino and knocked on the half-opened door before walking in.

- "Penelope García, I had the feeling you were running caffeine low."

- "Oh my pretty little thing! How do you do it? You read my mind!"- the tech analyst nearly hyperventilated as soon as she held her ice and creamed coffee.

- "Reid and I were out for a little break, and I knew you would like one of these to cheer up your afternoon"- Garcia sipped her frappuccino and nodded. But as soon as she had finished savoring the perfect coffee, she asked.

- "So, you and Reid..."

- "We were out getting coffee, like the best friends we are."

- "But, there's coffee here in the kitchenette. There's no need to go out and get coffee unless you want to find an excuse to be alone with him."- (Y/N) raised an eyebrow and sighed. Garcia did that every single chance she got.

- "You and I know the FBI doesn't share our concept of "good" coffee."- (Y/N) looked at her friend and just smiled- "Besides, I told you, I felt you needed some extra sugar and joy in your life after your early workout session this morning."

- "That little snitch!"- (Y/N) chuckled and shook her head.

- "Don't get mad at Reid. He didn't tell me anything. I kind of figured there was something wrong 'cos he looked in so much pain just breathing."

- "Oh man, he is sored, but I am sure he would be way sorer if you train with him."

- "I offered myself to help him"- Garcia raised an eyebrow at (Y/N) 's words, and the young agent wide opened her eyes, blushing- "Stop staring at me like I'm a perv! I meant helping him train for the test. I could help you too."

- "Thank you, but no, thank you. I trained with you, and there's no way we are going to do all that boxing again."

- "Come on! You said you had fun!"

- "I did! I really did... but I could barely move the next day! And I had a date! I couldn't even dance, less doing... other... nevermind"- Penelope stopped herself in her tracks and shook her head.

- "Shit, PG!"- (Y/N) closed her eyes and chuckled- "Spare me the details."

- "Sorry... anyway... you and the little genius should definitely train in a more... horizontal way."

- "Garcia! Stop it!"- (Y/N) laughed and stood up- "I'm gonna go back to work 'cos clearly you have some hormonal issues today, and you are projecting."

- "Stop acting like you haven't thought about it!"- Garcia said and chuckled as her friend walked away.

- "I'm not telling you anything."

- "That means yes!"

- "No! it doesn't!"- (Y/N) was blushing; that's why she refused to turn around and look at Penelope.

- "Oh! It so does!"

--

The end of that day found Spencer even more sore, hungry and weary than he had felt in years. All he wanted to do was go home, eat pizza leftovers from the night before, and go straight to bed.

Until...

- "Hey, chipmunk!"- (Y/N) looked at Spencer, gathering all his things and getting ready to go home.- "Dinner at my place tonight. My treat."

- "I can pick the take out tonight?"- he said immediately and asked himself where did that come from if, a second earlier, all he wanted to do was to go to bed. Probably from the same place that kept coming back to the image of her in sweat shorts.

- "Even better. I'll cook"- (Y/N) answered and winked, playfully- "You deserve a proper homemade dinner after all the workout you did this morning."

Spencer looked at her and didn't even notice the silly smile on his face. If he had known how in love he was looking, he would have probably slapped himself. (Y/N) sighed and stood up.

- "I'm gonna take that silence as a "Great (Y/N)! Thank you! How considered! I'm so lucky to have you in my life".

Spencer rolled his eyes and shook his head.

- "Thank you, (Y/N). But I'll give you more praise if your food turns out to be eatable"- the young agent gasped, pretending to be insulted by his words, and hit Reid's arm with her knuckles.

- "Auch! (Y/N)!"

- "I'm being nice, and you are insulting me! I'm having second thoughts about driving you over!"

- "I can take the subway! You are such a slow driver I can actually be there faster."

Spencer stuck out his tongue at her and ran to the elevator, 'cos his friend widened her eyes and ran after him, probably to hit him again.

Morgan and Prentiss stared at the scene in silence, sharing a few looks, both of them thinking the exact same thing: "When are these two goofs ever going to hook up?"

- "They are annoying"- Rossi stood next to Emily's desk and crossed his arms on his chest.

- "They are in love"- she corrected, but David shook his head and sighed.

- "I know, and they are adorable, but it's so annoying staring at the same scene over and over again, waiting for something, anything, to happen between them."

- "Are you turning into a bitter old man who completely forgot about the charm of being young and in love?"- Prentiss raised an eyebrow and turned to Rossi. The Italian stared right into her eyes and shook his head.

- "I'm just saying someone should try to tell them something."

- "I've tried to talk to him about her a million times. But Reid is one private kid."- Derek said from his desk as the three of them stared at Spencer and (Y/N) getting into the elevator, still arguing and playfully playing.

- "And he is so insecure. He doesn't think she likes him."

- "Likes him? She is clearly in love with him!"- Prentiss said, annoyed- "I swear, if nothing happens between them this weekend, I'm going to intervene."

- "Now who is forgetting about the charm of being young and in love?"- Rossi joked and sighed- "Come on guys, dinner's on me."

--

(Y/N)' s dinner was a success. Spencer ate two portions of honey mustard-glazed chicken bake. She even managed to make him eat vegetables. And Spencer didn't even argue. Not only because it was delicious, and his body really needed some homemade dinner. But also 'cos (Y/N) got him wrapped around her fingers, even without knowing it. And if she asked him to eat veggies, Spencer (no matter how much he would argue) would eat his damn veggies. And he could actually enjoy them.

- "Ok, chipmunk, you ate all your food. You earned your dessert"- (Y/N) smiled and picked the dirty dishes from the table.

- "Let me do that. You already fed me. The least I can do is do the dishes."

Spencer followed her moves and took the dishes to the sink. (Y/N) didn't argue with that. It wasn't the first time Spencer cleaned the kitchen with her, after all. They had been good friends, close friends, for a long time, and they were used to being around each other.

But this time, it felt somehow different. Like there was something in the air warning them things were about to change for good.

- "Ok, doc. Do you wanna eat your dessert watching tv for a while?"- (Y/N) handed Spencer an ice cream bowl with chocolate chips on top and some whipped cream.

- "A smiley ice cream bowl?"- Spencer chuckled as he stared at it. He loved it.

- "Yes, you are never too old to eat food with a smile on it. And that's a life lesson, Spencer Walter Reid."- she said and walked to the couch, holding the remote control.

- "You are filled with wisdom, (Y/N)"- Reid teased her and sat by her side.

- "I know. It would help if you let me train you. You would pass your fit test in a blink."- she said and continued surfing channels.

- "Thanks, but no thanks. I wanna do it on my own."- Spencer glued his eyes on the screen and ate his dessert. (Y/N) just nodded and continued surfing channels.

- "Why?"- she asked him after a few minutes. They had been watching an old movie in silence, just eating their ice cream.

- "Why what?"- he whispered and looked at her just for a second. He didn't trust himself around (Y/N), especially under those circumstances: alone in her house. She had changed into leggings and an old extra-large sweatshirt. Her hair was in a messy bun. And Spencer didn't feel able to look at her into the eyes, 'cos he was going to cave in. He was going to grab her face with both hands and kiss her right there. No questions asked.

Which is why he avoided looking at her.

- "Why don't you want me to help you train?"

- "Just because"- he answered and glued his eyes to the screen. But (Y/N) knew better. She moved closer to him on the couch and held his hands. Spencer shivered right away at the sensation of her skin. It was so warm and soft. All he craved was some more of that. He wanted to feel her. Touch her. Taste her.

His head was going way too fast, and just because she held his hand.

- "Spencer, look at me"- she whispered and practically begged her friend to pay her attention- "I just wanna help. It's just a stupid fit test. It ain't hard."

- "For you."- he mumbled and looked down at his hand as her fingers played against his skin.

- "I didn't want you or anyone to help me 'cos I'm a fucking SSA who should be perfectly able to perform a simple fit test on his own. But no. I can't! And do you know what that means?"

- "That finally I know there's one thing you are not good at?"- she answered and smiled at him. Spencer raised his eyes and met hers. He knew his cheeks were all shades of pink, but for once, he just didn't care. He just wanted to look at her and see if she meant it. Or if she was just teasing him.

- "Right"- he snorted and shook his head.

- "I mean it, Spencer. You don't have to be good at everything."

- "It's a fit test. It's basic to be an agent. I need to be able to catch an unsub."- (Y/N) frowned and tried to understand where all that self-doubt and insecurity was coming from. To her eyes, Spencer had nothing to be ashamed of. To her, he was perfect in every single way.

- "You already catch unsubs, chipmunk. Everyday. You don't have to kick down doors to make a profile. And you don't have to run six miles to get the bad guy. Everything that you do every day at work is what an SSA is supposed to do. And you excel at it."

(Y/N) sighed and smiled at her best friend, trying to push aside the urge she felt to kiss him. His golden-brown eyes looked so big, like honey pools, she could stare for a lifetime. Spencer didn't know what to say. He really wasn't good with praises. He wasn't used to them. Not in that way.

- "Besides"- (Y/N) added after a few seconds of silence when she realized she might have said too much and started panicking.

- "It feels good to finally know there is one thing I am better than you at."

- "What are you talking about?"- Spencer answered right away, in the sassiest tone of voice.- "Just because I suck working out doesn't mean you are better. Even at my lowest, I'm still better than whatever you can do in a gym."

Reid was obviously joking. He knew (Y/N) could kick ass. Not only had she saved his life many times on the field, but also, he had seen her working out. And she could definitely kick his ass if she wanted to.

That didn't mean he wasn't going to tease her just because.

- "You take that back, Reid!"- she threatened him and

- "No"- he sentenced and crossed his arms on his chest

- "Last chance. Take it back, or you will pay for it."

- "Make me."

And that was it.

In a second, (Y/N) was on him tickling him, and trying to practice a chokehold on him. But Spencer was faster, and somehow, stronger than her. Maybe it was because he was struggling with himself. A part of him wanted her closer, and a part of him didn't want her too close, 'cos he knew his pants were going to start feeling too tight if she did.

Whatever the reason was, after two minutes of wrestling, Spencer had (Y/N) pinned down against the couch. And the way she panted against the fabric of the cushion wasn't helping him with his pants.

- "Spencer, it hurts"- she cried and tried to move from his grip, but he didn't let her go.

- "If you want me to release you, you have to say I am the best agent in this house."

- "Never!"- (Y/N) quickly answered and continued struggling.

- "Just say it, I've got you held, and I'm not going to let you free until you say it."- something in his tone of voice, it was teasing but also... sexy? (Y/N) knew Spencer wasn't trying to act that way, but it was working for her in a way she hadn't imagined. He would be so soft. And now, there he was, acting like a dominant man, holding her tight, not letting her move, literally pinned against the couch.

If only it were all happening in a different context.

- "Let me go, Spencer Reid!"- (Y/N) battled against his arms, but it was useless

- "Just say it"- he leaned in and whispered in her ear, and (Y/N) sword she could almost feel his smile as he spoke.

- "You are the best agent!! There, happy?"- she mumbled, making her best to sound annoyed and not turned on. Spencer released her, and she quickly sat down properly, rubbing her left wrist.

- "Did I hurt you?"- Spencer whispered and noticed how flustered she was. That was a first.

- "No. But I gotta tell you, you are stronger than I thought."- she said and stuck out her tongue to him, trying to be playful and innocent, though you could feel it in the air. That moment was anything but innocent.

- "Yeah, I've been working out a little bit."- Spencer answered and chuckled at his own words.

- "Well, you are going to have to learn how to control your new strength, 'cos this is going to leave a bruise"- (Y/N) whined and showed him her sore wrist. Spencer winced, ashamed he had been so hard on her without meaning any harm. He moved closer to her and held her wrist carefully. (Y/N) just looked at him as he kissed her wrist a few times.

That man couldn't be real. He was such a tease.

Did he know all the things he was, in fact, doing to her with that simple touch?

He surely had to know. Otherwise, there was no explanation, she thought.

- "Thanks"- (Y/N) whispered and fixed her eyes on his lips, still landing small kisses on her wrist.

That was when she stopped breathing. Spencer was literally breathtaking. He smiled at her, and she just couldn't help it anymore. (Y/N) leaned in and kissed him. It was a soft, short peck. But she had dared to do the unthinkable.

She kissed her best friend.

Spencer widened his eyes, shocked, and looked at her, not saying a word. They just stayed still for a good thirty seconds until Spencer finally made his move, cupping her jaw carefully with both hands and pulling her face against his.

The way she moaned into the kiss made him feel more in control than he had ever been before.

It was a soft kiss but intense. Spencer's lips rubbed carefully against her mouth, and his tongue moved carefully, making its way until he could taste her. (Y/N) moved closer to him until she was basically sitting on his lap, and his arms wrapped around her body, locking her against him.

They were in heaven.

Until it was over. Their phones buzzed at the same time, breaking the spell, ending the charm. (Y/N) jumped from Spencer's arms and grabbed her phone.

- "We've got a case"- she whispered and turned to him. He was agitated, his cheeks were red, his pants felt tight, and he was starving for more of those kisses.

- "Ok."- he replied but didn't move.

- "I'm gonna change, then we can go."- (Y/N) added, but he didn't say a word. To be fair, Spencer wasn't processing what was going on. He was still trying to elaborate a coherent thought. And most of all, he was fighting the boner in his pants that didn't let him stand up.

You could blame all the sugar in his body after the massive bowl of ice cream, or all the praising (Y/N) had given him, but Spencer found a new level of courage in that kiss. He decided it was time to stop overthinking it. It was time to act on his feelings.

- "(Y/N)"- Reid knocked on her bedroom door and heard her from the walking closet.

- "I'm almost ready. Did you talk with Garcia?"

- "No, but I don't wanna leave things like this. I wanted to talk about what just happened."

(Y/N) sighed and took a look at herself in the mirror. She could still feel her cheeks burning after that kiss, after feeling her best friend hard underneath her body, holding her against him. But she wasn't sure she wanted to hear what Reid was about to say. Most of all, because she was sure it was going to be something along the lines: "That kiss was a mistake, you are my friend. I don't wanna ruin this."

- "That kiss was..."- he mumbled and walked to her as soon as she showed up in the room, but words were hard to find when she looked at him that way.

- "Spencer, I..."- she tried to speak, but he just continued.

- "Would you like to..."

- "Pretend it didn't happen?"

- "Go out on a date with me?"- the two of them said at the same time and widened their eyes in shock.

- "What?"- (Y/N) questioned and stared at her best friend in shock- "You want to go out with me?"

- "You want to pretend it never happened?"- he asked her, scared he might have rushed to the wrong conclusions.

- "No, no, no, I don't... I can't pretend it didn't happen"- (Y/N) quickly answered and held Spencer's hand, afraid she might have ruined everything.

- "I was just scared you were going to reject me or..."- (Y/N) bt her lips and dared to look at him- "I wanna go out on a date with you"- she whispered and watched his whole face change as a big silly grin drawn on his lips.

- "Really?"- he murmured, still not sure it was actually happening. He asked her out. She said yes. He was sure that was never going to happen in real life.

- "Really"- she assured him and leaned in slowly to kiss him one more time. But her phone rang again, and so did his. This time it was a message from Hotch. Wheels up as soon as they reached the FBI.

- "But after we catch the bad guy."- (Y/N) added, and Spencer chuckled.

- "Sounds like a plan."

Spencer Reid’s taglist: 

@calm-and-doctor @all-tings-diego

Requested by @shilohpug​ 

#spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #babymetaldoll writes #babymetaldoll edits

[moon-light-jukebox]

You’re not my type [Hotch x Reader]

Summary: Reader is the new press liaison to the elite Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. A stray comment from her leads to a lot of questions from her teammates, especially her unit chief, Aaron Hotchner. When they’re thrown together on a case that hits close to home for Reader, will that comment tear them apart? Or will it bring them closer together?

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner / (Female) Reader

Rating: Mature

Category: Angst then smut, with plenty of fluff sprinkled throughout.

Word Count: 8.4k

Content Warning: This gets pretty angst heavy in places. The team is chasing an Unsub that’s a serial r*pist/mu*derer. Mentions of an attempted a*sault to someone Reader cares about. Providing comfort to victims of the unsub. It’s dark in places, but if you can stick with me, I promise I will mend the angst and take you to the land of smut and fluff. Because there is plenty of smut.

A/n: Have you ever had a story that just grabbed hold of you and refused to let go? This story was supposed to be half this length and pure fluff. Reader and Hotch dug their claws into me and made me tell their own story. I’m not mad at it, and if you give it a chance, I hope you love it as much as I do. masterlist

y/n = your name. y/l/n = your last name. italicized text = reader’s thoughts

--“You’re not my type” --

The clock was moving so slowly, I couldn't help but think it was moving backward.

Come on, hurry up. I wanna go home.

I sighed, resigning myself to the fact that it was going to be 4:30 pm for the rest of my life. I still had some files to hand out to the team; I usually do that part of my very glamorous job in the mornings, but since I had nothing but time now, I thought why not.

I had been a “sort of” member of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit for 5 months. Jennifer- wait, JJ, had the job as media liaison before me; she was the last person to officially hold the position. When she left the unit chief of the BAU, Aaron Hotchner, and the technical analyst, Penelope Garcia, had split the roll. That is until Chief Strauss had decided that she wanted the BAU to run more efficiently. Meaning that Hotch got less paperwork, Garcia got a break from talking about mutilated bodies, and I got shuffled around from the public relations office.

Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed working with the team, I really did, but I couldn't help but feel excluded sometimes. They're all practically a family. I didn't really have any sort of family anymore, just a best friend that has always felt more like a sister.

Pushing those thoughts aside, I made my way towards the bullpen, shoving the doors open to see the team sitting on various desks talking to each other. Loudly.

“Shut UP, man!” Derek Morgan’s voice was loud, but amusement was clear on his face. Actually, everyone seemed sort of amused. Rossi and Hotch were leaning on the railing near their respective offices, watching the events unfold with smiles on their faces.

Hotch smiles? Huh. Weird.

I quickly tried to make my way around them, hoping none of them would notice me.

“Okay, I know how we can settle this. Y/n!” Shit. No such luck. I turned to look at Emily Prentiss, with her long dark hair and angular face. Why is everybody here so fucking pretty?

I cleared my throat, trying to compose my face. “Yes?”

“Answer something for us.” Everyone seemed very eager for me to be a part of this now, which I didn’t think was a good sign.

“I’ll do my best.”

She smiled at me like she was sensing her victory. "If Morgan asked you on a date, what would you say?"

Oh, they couldn’t have picked a worse person to play this game.

I chuckled awkwardly, trying to appear calm. “Um…I’d probably say no.” Morgan took a dramatically loud breath before slapping his hand to his chest. “No offense,” I quickly added.

Morgan wasn’t giving up his dramatics that easily. “Damn, girl! You’re gonna cut me down just like that?”

“I’m sorry,” I said with an awkward laugh. “You’re just not my type.”

Garcia’s eyebrows hit her hairline. “Excuse me? He’s not your type? Tall, dark, and extremely well-muscled isn’t your type?” She scoffed like I was insane; I mean, maybe I was. Jury’s out.  “What about that is unappealing to you?”

I couldn’t think of a believable lie, so I went with the truth. “The tall and extremely well-muscled part.” I shifted from foot to foot anxiously.

Emily blinked. “O-okay. Fair enough,” she laughed, looking at me like she’d never seen me before.

I was preparing to turn and make a very quick escape, but JJ had other plans. "Woah, woah, woah," the blonde hopped off the desk, walking a bit closer to me. "If Morgan isn't your type…who is?"

Fuck me running. “Um…” I trailed off. “I don’t think I really have a type, to be honest.”

"Do you like men," Morgan chimed in. "No judgment, little mama."

Not for the first time, I wished I was a lesbian. “I am sadly mostly heterosexual.” I was convinced no one could be completely heterosexual, it just didn’t seem natural.

Emily chuckled at that. “Okay then,” her hand moved up to adjust her dark bangs, something she did when she was thinking. “What if Hotch asked you out?”

“Okay, okay, don’t drag me into this,” the Unit Chef boomed out, much to Rossi’s amusement.

“…Um.” Why couldn’t I just die? “Sorry, boss, but no.”

Morgan crossed his arms over his chest. “Is Hotch also too tall and well-muscled.”

“Probably,” I answered without much thought. “I can’t comment on the state of his muscles. But he’s very…big. And he intimidates me.” I didn’t let my eyes stray to my boss; I simply couldn’t.

"Ah-ha. There it is!" Morgan slapped his hands together like he had solved some big puzzle. "You don't like men that intimidate you. So, if pretty boy over here asked you out, you'd say yes."

I didn't know a person's ears could blush until that moment when my eyes drifted over to Dr. Spencer Reid. The tips of his ears were bright pink and he was looking anywhere but at me.

I answered honestly again, I figured they’d know if I lied. Fucking profilers. “Yeah, I would say yes. But only if I didn’t know him.” Spencer’s eyes finally shifted over towards me. “You’re easily one of the most brilliant people in the world. You’d be bored to tears on a date with me,” I said, my gaze meeting his wide eyes.

The boy genius’s head tilted ever so slightly to the side, his lips moving like he muttered something under his breath.

Is it 5 yet?

JJ wasn’t totally prepared to let this go, because she asked, “Okay, so a yes to Spence, a no to Hotch and Morgan.” She tapped her chin with her index finger. “What about Will? You’ve met my husband, right?”

I had indeed met her husband with his Princess and The Frog accent. I couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, I met him the other day when he brought your son by. And…I don’t know, maybe him. He doesn’t give off an air of intimidation.” Which was the nicest way I could say ‘your husband doesn’t scare the shit out of me.’

I glanced down at my watch, seeing it was finally 4:55 pm. “Sorry guys, I need to get these files out before I go home.” With an overly bright smile, I darted away as fast as my uncomfortable shoes would let me.

My final stop was Hotch’s office, and I was so relieved that he wasn’t in it for once. I placed the file on his desk, looking at the pictures of a little boy, his son, I assumed, on his desk.

“I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable.”

I'm not sure what I was more embarrassed by, the tiny yelp that escaped my lips or how I smacked my hand over my chest in such a dramatic fashion that I could have given Derek Morgan a run for his money. "Jesus fucking Christ, Hotch! You scared the shit out of me!"

His lips twitched in poorly concealed amusement, either at my reaction or my swearing at him. “Sorry, y/n. I didn’t know I needed to knock before I entered my office. I’ll try to do better next time.”

Oh, this guy has jokes now too.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at his dry humor. “I’m sorry. I startle easily. I didn’t mean to swear at you.”

“Y/n, I’ve been with the bureau for almost 20 years. Trust me, I’ve heard worse.”

I bet he has.

“Well,” I cleared my throat awkwardly. “Alright then. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, sir.”

“Of course,” he stepped out of the doorway so I could exit. “Y/n?” He said it like it was an afterthought. “Do you really find me intimidating?”

My eyes were wide as I looked all the way up at him. Really, what was the point in being that tall? "Oh, absolutely, sir." Then I hurried out the door, not wanting to see his reaction or lack thereof.

--

After stopping by my office, I was waiting for the elevator when I felt someone behind me; turning I saw the pretty boy himself standing awkwardly off to my side. I offered him a small smile before shifting my attention back to the bank of elevators in front of me.

The middle one opened first, Spencer waved me in first before he entered and hit the button for the ground floor.

He was clearly working up his nerves to say something, you didn’t have to be a profiler to see that. “Hey, um, y/n?” I turned my head in his direction, waiting for him to continue. “What you said back there…that you’d go on a date with me if I asked, did you mean that?”

There was that blush again, he really was adorable. “Of course, I meant it, Spencer.” He didn’t look convinced. “I mean, why would I lie? I turned Morgan down right away. And Hotch, who is my boss.”

Spencer let out a small laugh at that, unable to argue against my point. “I guess that’s true.” The elevator doors opened, he waved me out first, again, before exiting himself. “Do you really think that I’d be bored on a date with you?”

"I mean, you have 3 Ph.D.'s and a super high IQ." I waved my free hand around, gesturing to myself like it would help me prove my point. "And look at me. I'm smart, but I'm not that smart. I couldn't put you through a date like that."

He didn’t seem to appreciate my self-deprecating humor. I headed for the doors without giving him a chance to respond. “Have a good night, Dr. Reid!” I offered a small wave before I all but sprinted out the doors towards the parking garage.

Why? Just why?

--

“We have to catch him before this turns into a spree,” Hotch’s voice was grave, his face the same stern mask it always was. “Wheels up in 30.”

Taking that as a dismissal, the team rose from the table, hurrying towards their respective desks to get their go-bags. That was the part of this job that took the longest to get used to. I never traveled much in public relations; now I'm on a plane several times a week. That in itself wouldn't be so bad…if I didn't still get terrible motion sickness. I don’t know why I hadn’t gotten used to it yet, but I had to keep some non-drowsy motion sickness pills in my go-bag at all times. I tried to take them before I boarded the jet; it was probably silly, but I didn’t really want the team to know. They were all superheroes in my eyes; superheroes don’t get motion sickness.

I was the last one to board the jet today. I was usually one of the first onboard, but I got held up on my way here speaking to someone from my old office. When I came through the plane's doors there rest of the team was spread out. Dr. Reid was laying on the couch, book propped open in his lap. Emily and JJ were on one side of the table with Morgan and Rossi on the other. The only seats available were towards the back of the plane; I could have sat by myself…or I could sit in the seat across from Hotch.

I always get anxiety about things other people find silly. I’m a grown woman, I should be more confident; I’m a fucking FBI agent for god’s sake. Yet here I was, nervously trying to decide where to sit. It would be weird to not sit near him, I reasoned. Offering Hotch a tight smile before I stored my go-bag, I sat down across the aisle from him.

I fastened my seatbelt over my lap, taking deep breaths through my nose. I had taken my medicine, but take off always got me a little bit, no matter what. I never took a window seat either, sometimes I’d look out and see how fast the world was passing by underneath us and…I shuddered just thinking about it.

"Hey," the voice beside me called, his voice was so quiet I don't think any of the others could hear it. I opened my eyes and turned to face him. His dark eyes looked oddly soft like he was concerned about me. "Are you alright?"

I offered him a tight smile. “Yeah, I’m okay, Hotch.”

"Did you take your medicine?" At my puzzled expression, he clarified. "For motion sickness."

What in the- “How did you know I get motion sickness?”

The corners of his mouth quirked up. “I’m a profiler, y/n, and I’ve been one for a long time.”

A little chuckle left my lips at that, right as the plane started moving forward, gaining speed for takeoff. I closed my eyes, telling myself that it was the impending take off that was causing my stomach to flutter, not the fact that my boss, who I thought was always indifferent to me, noticed me more than I thought he did.

--

Cases with kids were the hardest, there was no question about it. For me, the second hardest cases were women who were assaulted. It filled my gut with such a heavy, boiling rage whenever I thought about it. These women were just living their lives, unaware of the danger that was hunting them. Some fucking monster decided that being a man in our society didn’t offer him enough power; he had to hurt women, try to take their power so that he could feel more powerful.

I had heard stories about Elle Greenaway, the agent that resigned under suspicion that she shot a rapist in cold blood. I never commented on it, but I can’t say as I blame her. That attitude is probably why I don’t comment on it, I thought dryly.

The unsub the team was hunting in Northern Texas was a serial rapist and murderer. He had claimed 3 victims in the past 2 weeks; the locals were concerned that his pattern and level of violence were escalating too rapidly. The BAU agreed.

They started piecing this monster together through the clues he left behind. A white male, mid 30's, has a high-power job, won't be able to have stable relationships with women. They were tracking his comfort zone, interviewing families, and canvassing for information.

My job was to warn the women of this small town that there was a monster lurking in the shadows.

The team was sitting around in a small room in the center of the police station that was crammed with evidence boards. Emily was leaned back in her chair, JJ's head resting on her shoulder. Dr. Reid was facing the map of the county like if he stared at it long enough and answer would just pop into his head. Morgan's head was in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. Rossi and Hotch were talking in the corner, glancing around the room every so often.

Eventually, our leader cleared his throat. "Okay, lets head back to the hotel." At the groans of a few team members, he pressed on. "I know, I want to find this guy too. But we all need rest. We'll come back tomorrow with fresh eyes."

With that, we all headed to the black SUVs parked outside, ready to head to whatever hotel the bureau put us in for the night. The drive was quick, we all stood in the lobby while Hotch spoke to whoever was at the front desk. The conversation seemed to take longer than I needed to.

He walked back over, looking mildly uncomfortable. “There aren’t enough open rooms,” he said at last. “We’ll have to double up.” He held out his hand which contained 3 key cards.

…Wait a minute. “There are 7 of us.”

Hotch nodded. “Therein lies the problem. One room will have to have 3 people.”

I turned towards Emily and JJ, assuming I’d just room with them when Rossi interrupted. “No offense, guys. But…I’m old,” he laughed, his whole face lighting up. “I need my beauty sleep. I’m not sharing a room. I’ll go get my own.”

"They don't have any rooms, Dave."

Rossi looked at Hotch with a patronizing little smile that would have been extremely offensive coming from anyone else. “They don’t have any rooms for you," he clarified. "Not only am I old, but I'm also rich."

Sure enough, he walked over to the desk and spoke to the clerk for less than a minute before he was handed a keycard.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Morgan said with a laugh.

Rossi turned to us then, his eyes filled with poorly hidden mirth. “Sogni d’oro!” And with that, he walked towards the elevators.

“Huh?” JJ asked, her voice scratchy.

“Sweet dreams,” Reid and Prentiss supplied at the same time.

“Right.” Morgan shook his head. “Come on pretty Ricky.”

It hit me right then. Oh hell.

Hotch seemed to realize it at the same time Prentiss did. “Y/n, you room with JJ, I’ll stay with Hotch.”

Somehow this was more embarrassing than the conversation in the bullpen. “No,” I said quickly. “No, you guys go. I’ll room with Hotch.” I put a smile on my face, hoping I was convincing.

“Y/l/n, you just said that I intimidated you.”

Again, why couldn’t the earth just swallow me up? My laugh was forced, but hopefully, they hadn't heard my real laugh enough to know the difference. "Intimidated to go on a date with, Hotch. This isn't like that." Right? “C’mon! I’m sleepy.”

With that display of false bravado, I grabbed a key and made my way towards the elevators. I felt his presence behind me as we walked down the hall towards our rooms. I tried to control my heartbeat, calm my breathing the closer we got to the room. This is ridiculous, y/n. I had shared a room with Morgan before, no problem. I was comfortable around the team, I really was. Not for the first time, I wish I had the sense to not open my big mouth.

I reached for the door right when Hotch cleared his throat; I busied myself with getting into the room, ignoring him. Was it cowardly? Yes. Did I care? Not at that moment.

Until I walked into the room…and saw that there was one bed. Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me. “What is this, a rom-com?” I apparently didn’t mumble that part as quietly as I thought I had given the soft laugh I heard come from the man behind me.

“Y/n,” he said, his hand coming to my shoulder. “I didn’t realize there would only be one bed. Come on, let’s go down to Prentiss and JJ’s room.”

I let out a groan. “Hoooootch,” I whined. “All of this is just making me more embarrassed. This wouldn’t even be an issue if I hadn’t been a dumbass and opened my big mouth. This isn’t a big deal but going to talk to them will make it a big deal.”

He didn't look convinced, but I was so tired. I reached out and grabbed his arm before I could think better of it. "Aaron," my voice was soft, barely a whisper, but it was like he'd been struck by lightning. His eyes snapped up to mine, his lips parted slightly. It was then I realized I'd never called him by his first name before. "I trust you with my life. You'd intimidate me if I didn't know you. But I do know you, Aaron." My gaze never wavered from his.

“Okay.”

--

I laid in bed for 30 minutes pretending to be asleep. I listened to his breathing even out and I kept my back to him the entire time. I had tried to keep my bedtime routine brief, taking a quick shower and changing into my sleep shorts and a baggy shirt I’d had since college. My hair was pulled back so I wouldn’t get it wet in the shower.

The weirdest thing was seeing Hotch in normal clothes. In all the months I’d worked with him, I had never seen him not in a suit. He had a pair of flannel pajama pants on, a gray t-shirt stretched over his broad chest. He has really nice arms, I thought.

When I was sure he was asleep, I rolled over onto my back. My eyes had long since adjusted to the dark, allowing me to just stare at the ceiling.

“You’re thinking very loudly.”

I let out a squeak while my whole body jerked. "Goddamnit, Hotch!” That asshole had the nerve to chuckle. “Stop scaring me!”

“I’m sorry,” he said, not sounding even slightly sorry.

“I thought you were asleep.”

He rolled onto his back; I felt his eyes on my face. “I know,” was all he said.

I sighed, wondering how I had gotten myself into such a situation. “You really don’t intimidate me.” He made a noise which caused me to amend my statement. “Alright, alright. You do intimidate me. You’re just so…stern. And you’re so tall. What is the purpose of being that tall? It’s excessive. And I feel like your eyes can see through every single thing about me. I didn’t know you had muscles until today, but I always assumed you did. They’re very nice muscles-“ I cut myself off. Fuck.

That was the first time I ever heard Aaron Hotchner laugh. Not chuckle, not snicker quietly. He actually laughed. His laugh was a higher pitch than his speaking voice; it boomed out of him and transformed the whole mood in the room. That laugh warmed a part of my heart that I wasn’t comfortable thinking about. A huge grin broke out on my face. I made him laugh, and I was oddly proud of it.

“Thanks, y/n,” his voice was still filled with amusement. “I hadn’t known you were curious about the state of my muscles. You should have just said something.”

My head snapped to the side so my eyes could meet his. He was teasing me. SSA Aaron Hotchner, BAU unit Chief, was teasing me. I lifted my hand to his arm, giving him a shove. His bicep feels like granite. “Shut up.”

That asshat just kept laughing at me.

“Anyway, you do intimidate me,” my voice was soft again. “But I’m not afraid of you.”

Aaron regarded me thoughtfully. “So, it’s not that you’re not attracted to intimidating men,” he surmised. “You’re afraid of men.”

“Not all men,” I countered. “I’m afraid of men like you. Not you, but ones like you. You overwhelm me.”

He was quiet for a few moments. “Y/n…did someone hurt you?”

It was a natural question, a normal thought process; I should have expected the question. I felt tears prick the corner of my eyes. “Yes,” I whispered, feeling safe in the darkness of the room, safe but still so alone. “But not in the way you think.” I filled my lungs with a deep breath, hoping I would find some courage. It wasn’t until I felt his hand brush over mine, his calloused fingers brushing over the back of my hand, that I finally found it. I flipped my palm up and laced my fingers through his. He gave me a reassuring squeeze.

“I’ve had the same best friend all my life,” I began. “She’s marvelous. We’ve always been together; her mom said we were like peanut butter and jelly. I love her like she’s a part of me, Aaron.” I knew he would understand; I just knew it. “We were in college when it happened. We went to this frat party because I had a crush on some guy.” My voice was filled with venom and bitterness. “He was overwhelming, so tall, and so handsome. There was a darkness in him, but I was too young to see it. She did; my best friend could see he was a monster. I didn’t listen.” My breath was shuddering through me. “I didn’t listen to her, Hotch.”

He didn't say anything. He just shifted in the bed and pulled me to him, nestling me into his side, wrapping his arms around me while I laid my head on his chest. "I was so mad at her. So mad." The shame from all those years ago was still so fresh. "She took my drink and threw it on the floor. I told her she was embarrassing me… So, I went outside to get some air."

His arm tightened around me, his free hand coming up to stroke my hair. “You don’t have to-“

“I do,” I said, refusing to let another sob escape. “I came back inside and couldn’t find either of them. I thought maybe she was going to hook up with some guy…but she isn’t like that. She’s never been like that.” My stomach rolled at the thought; sometimes when I closed my eyes I could still smell the beer in the air, I could still feel the wood of the banister under my fingers. “I found them in a room upstairs. He had her pinned on the bed, he was-he-he was trying to take her pants off.” I didn’t deserve the comfort Aaron offered me in that moment, but I clung to him, grateful for it. “I screamed, and I guess I scared him. She kneed him and was able to push him off. We ran all the way home.”

“You saved her, y/n,” Aaron’s voice was so sure, so reassuring, no matter how hard I shook my head ‘no’. “You did. You could have just left; you were mad at her, but you still went back for her.”

I wiped my eyes. “You make it sound so simple.”

His lips pressed softly against my forehead, his hand stroking up and down my back. “That’s because it is.”

--

Things felt different in the harsh light of the police station than they had last night. Aaron was already in the shower when I woke up this morning. I fell asleep in his arms after I told him one of my darkest secrets. He didn't judge me; he didn't tell me I was a terrible person. He just held me; he offered me comfort and made me feel deserving of that comfort.

I dressed quickly and headed downstairs before he got out of the bathroom. My feelings were already swirling around in my head. It wasn’t that I wanted to be away from him, not at all. I just didn’t think it would help my feelings settle down to be confronted by a wet, hot, well-muscled Aaron Hotchner. It was an act of self-preservation if you think about it, I reasoned.

The next time I saw him was when the team was piling back into the SUVs to head to the police station. He offered me a small smile, and I think his eyes may have twinkled a little bit when I smiled back at him a little too brightly.

Profilers.

The team was as refreshed as they could be. Dr. Reid was looking at access and service roads on the map, trying to determine the route the unsub took to dispose of his victims. JJ and Morgan were out canvassing the women's neighborhoods. Rossi was with Prentiss in the sheriff's office speaking with the family of the most recent victim, Bethany Mooreland.

This was the hardest part of my job. I wasn’t a profiler. I felt like I had nothing to offer. I was fielding calls from the media, trying to organize a targeted strategy. The team thought that if the unsub saw that he was being mocked in the press, or his masculinity was called into question in any way, that he would act out more viciously. While acting out might cause him to make a mistake, we couldn’t risk another woman’s life.

The conference room doors burst open, Hotch storming inside with Morgan and JJ hot on his heels. “There’s been another attack.”

I felt my stomach drop. “Fuck.”

“Y/n, she’s alive.”

“…What?!”

The dark-haired man that held me in his arms last night only nodded. “She’s at the hospital. I want you to come with JJ and me to interview her.”

…Me?

--

Summer Webb was 25 years old; she was a customer service rep at a call center just outside of town. She lived alone, had a cat named Pringles, and was close with her family.

I held her hand while JJ and Hotch put her through a cognitive interview. I rubbed her back while she recounted how the unsub only left her because he thought she was dead. Tears ran down my cheeks when she described what he did to her.

Steel and ice ran through my veins when I looked her in the eyes and promised that we would get this monster.

I’d kill him myself if I had to.

Once her mother arrived at the hospital, we left, promising to call with any updates; uniformed officers were stationed outside her hospital door. Hotch spoke to Garcia, then to Rossi, then to Reid, then Garcia again on our ride back. JJ read over Summer’s statement, occasionally jotting down notes.

I was quiet.

Almost. Almost there. I walked into the station without really seeing it. I navigated my way down the hall on instinct. I pushed the door to the bathroom open, looked around to confirm I was alone…then I broke. I placed my hands on the countertop that housed 3 separate sinks, my tears ran down my cheeks and splashed on the fake granite.

I don’t know how long I had been there when I thought I heard a knock on the door. That didn’t make any sense, the door didn’t have a lock; there were multiple stalls in this bathroom.

But I had heard a knock. The door swung open and someone walked inside. I heard him whisper my name, the tone of his voice was so soft, so fucking sad, that it only made me cry harder. Aaron put his hands on my shoulders, turning me around to face him, then letting me collapse against him.

He murmured words I couldn’t understand against the top of my head, he wrapped his arms tight around me; I was sure I would have fallen completely apart if he wasn’t holding me together.

“You must think I’m so weak,” I muttered when my tears had finally slowed.

He stiffened, though his hands never stopped moving, stroking my hair and my back. "Just the opposite, y/n." I pulled back to meet his eyes; I saw nothing but honesty swirling in those dark brown pools. His eyes appeared so dark from far away, almost black. From this close, I could see the subtle shift between various shades of brown. They weren't cold like I had always suspected; Aaron Hotchner's eyes were warm and understanding. They were the eyes of a man who had seen far too much evil for one lifetime but refused to yield his fight for even a second.

I could fall in love with those eyes.

“You’re the furthest thing from weak I’ve ever seen,” he continued. “Your heart is so big that it aches for a woman you don’t even know. It’s alright to cry right now, it’s alright to let yourself fall down for a moment. But I know you, y/n,” he was repeating my words from last night back to me. “You’re going to pull yourself back together. And then you’re going to help us find that son of a bitch before he hurts anyone else.”

Maybe I could fall in love with more than just his eyes.

--

There are certain moments in my life that I will look back on and remember with perfect clarity. That night when I almost lost my best friend, the day I graduated from the academy, the first night I spent in Aaron Hotchner’s arms were just a few.

I would also remember when the call came in from Garcia; how Morgan and Reid ran into the room. How Hotch’s eyes shot to mine when we found out the monster’s name. I didn’t have to ask; he nodded at me, those warm brown eyes were hidden now, hardened by pure ice-cold rage.

I strapped on my vest and road in the back seat in the SUV Morgan drove.

Summer’s monster was named Jeremy Carpenter. Her monster was a white man with brown hair, brown eyes, with a scar on the back of his right hand.

None of us were sure how he knew we were coming, but he had already barricaded himself inside his house. We heard a scream when the first gunshot was fired. I wanted more than anything to bring Summer's monster in alive; I wanted to offer her the chance to face him if she wanted to.

Aaron didn’t ask if I wanted to go to the hospital once everything was over; he really did know me. He took me to see her, he kept his hand on my back while I told Summer and her mother what happened. What I will remember most of all is how her mother hugged me when I told her the monster was gone, that he would never harm anyone ever again. I hit him in his leg; he was in pain before our unit chief put a bullet between his eyes.

We had come to the hospital alone; the rest of the team went back to the station to finish up paperwork. I held his hand on the way back to the hotel; I held his hand while we walked to our room.

I offered him a small smile before I made my way into the bathroom, determined to wash the events of the day off of my skin.

He was gone when I came back out.

--

It goes without saying that I had doubted most men in my life, especially since that night all those years ago.

I never once doubted Aaron Hotchner.

I was sitting on the bed when he came back, staring at the TV without seeing.

“Hey,” he said softly. “I thought you’d still be in the shower.” He set two bags down on the only table in our room. “You haven’t eaten since breakfast. I thought-“

“Hotch,” he looked at me then, his eyes locking onto mine. “Thank you.” I didn’t need to specify for what. He knows.

He pulled our food out while I made my way to the table. I couldn’t hold in my chuckle. “You know I get motion sickness; you know my favorite foods…just how closely do you pay attention to me, Agent Hotchner?”

He didn’t look the least bit embarrassed. “More closely than I should.”

We sat together and ate in comfortable silence. The next time he spoke was to answer a phone call from Jack. I tried to hide my smile while I listened to his conversation. Unlike the rest of his team, I hadn’t gotten to see Aaron Hotchner, the father. What is it about men being good father’s that is so attractive, I mused. Is it biological? I made a note to ask Dr. Reid.

After we ate, he went to shower while I stretched out on our bed, scrolling through my phone. When Hotch emerged from the bathroom he was in another pair of flannel pants paired with a black t-shirt. I pursed my lips in both amusement and disappointment.

“What?” His eyebrow was raised quizzically. Why are his eyebrows hot?

I giggled. "Nothing." At his incredulous look, I amended, "it's nothing interesting."

He sat down beside me on the right side of the bed, his back resting against the headboard. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

“Hooootch,” I whined, covering my face with my hands. “I’ve already embarrassed myself in front of you enough for one lifetime.”

His hand came up to grab mine, pulling them down from my face. Any attempts I made to wiggle away from him were in vain. Apparently, those muscles aren’t all show and no go. My body had shifted down the bed during my halfhearted struggles, meaning Aaron was now propped up on his elbow, his body angled over mine. “Embarrassed? I don’t remember any embarrassing times,” he pretended to give this some thought. “Unless you’re referring to last night when you mentioned how much you think about my muscles?”

I tried to jerk my arms out of his hands, but he held fast, laughing openly while my face turned red. “Oh, I’m sorry. Were you not talking about that?” He pushed my arms back onto the bed, rising to his knees, positioning his body over me, his face hovering over mine. “Then it must have been when you lied to the whole team a few days ago.”

I squeaked in outrage. “I didn’t lie about anything!”

He was so beautiful when that scowl left his face. “Yes, you did!” he insisted. “You said you wouldn’t say ‘yes’ if I asked you out. And, based on the evidence, I have to say I don’t believe that to be true.”

“Oh, I forgot I was dealing with a former prosecutor.” He nodded gravely, earning another giggle from me. “Okay, counselor. What’s the evidence?”

“The most glaring piece of evidence is you won’t tell me what you were thinking when you were looking at me when I came out of the shower.”

I let out a whine, accepting my fate. He’s literally on top of you, dumbass. Something tells me he’s gonna be receptive. “Okay, okay. I may have…hurried out of the room this morning while you were in the shower.”

Hotch quirked an eyebrow. “I know. Go on.”

“Asshole,” I muttered, delighted when he laughed. Hearing his laugh was one thing, but seeing it too? My insides were basically liquid. “I may have ran as an act of self-preservation. I was…worried that you’d come out of the bathroom in a towel. And you’d be wet, and hot, and I would…make an idiot out of myself, much like I am now.”

Aaron was delighted by how bright red my face turned; he made no attempt to hide his amusement. “So, just now, you were disappointed that I came out fully clothed?”

“Hotch,” I moaned out in embarrassment. He wasn’t making this easy on me.

My eyes were shut tight, my head turned away from him like this would somehow prevent him from seeing me. His left hand lifted from my wrist, his fingers coming to rest on my chin, turning my face towards him. "If you're going to moan my name while we're in bed, y/n, I'd prefer if you called me Aaron." My eyes snapped open. His eyes were still warm, teasing, but there was a certain heat in them I hadn’t seen before that made my lower belly flutter. He leaned closer to my face. “It would be hard for me to focus at work if you every time you said ‘Hotch’ I thought about you like this.”

I waited for a few moments for him to act before I realized Aaron couldn’t cross the line first. He wouldn’t be mean if I rejected him; that wasn’t the type of man he was. But the choice was mine; it had always been mine.

I lifted my free hand up to cup the side of his face, urging him closer to me. The first brush of my lips over his was so soft I wasn't sure it was even happening. It was so hesitant but so pure that it made me ache. Aaron pulled back to look at me; he was breathing hard like he had been running instead of just kissing me.

“Y/n…”

“Don’t profile me, Aaron.” I lifted my head, my teeth nipping at his bottom lip. “I want this. I want you.”

His posture shifted, he released my left arm to brace himself above me with his arms caging me in; he moved his legs, wedging one of his thighs in between mine. “I’m not profiling you. I can see how much you want this.” No need to sound so arrogant. “But I need to be sure…I’ve wanted to touch you for so long.”

My hands moved up to touch him, one hand feeling the soft hair at the nape of his neck that was still a little damp from the shower; my other hand gripped his bicep. “Then touch me, Aaron. Please.”

I wasn’t ready for the full force of Aaron Hotchner. He was the most intense man I had ever known, and that intensity didn’t stop in the bedroom. Aaron didn’t kiss me, he tried to consume me. His mouth moved over mine with a carnal hunger that made me throb, shifting against his firm thigh that was rested against me. I was desperate for any friction. I felt his hand move down from where it was cupping my face to rest on my collarbone, his thumb tracing over the base of my throat.

His lips moved off of mine to blaze a path down my jaw, his teeth nipping at the skin there before he moved back to my lips. “Don’t worry, sweetheart.” He pushed his thigh against the seam of my body, causing a whimper to escape from my throat. I didn’t even mind the smirk that covered his mouth. “We’ll get there. Just let me make you feel good.”

I opened my mouth to him; his tongue swirled around mine while the hand that wasn’t bracing him up moved to my hip. His fingers ran over the skin of my stomach that was exposed from my shirt riding up. I placed my hand over his, guiding it further up my stomach; how was I supposed to take my mouth away from his to tell him what I wanted?

Of course, Aaron knew what I needed; I was beginning to learn that he always did. His fingers trailed up my body until he got to the underside of my breast; the callouses that roughened his fingertips were heaven on my overly sensitive skin. My mouth broke away from his in a guttural cry when those fingers finally found my nipple. Aaron moved his kisses down to the side of my throat. I felt his breath against my throat when he murmured, “you’re so sexy, y/n.”

Raising up on his knees, he started tugging my shirt up; I lifted my upper body so I could slide my shirt off quickly. I heard Aaron groan when my chest was revealed to him, but I was on a mission of my own. Once I had his shirt pulled up over his abdomen, Aaron reached behind his back and pulled his shirt off at the neck.

My nails raked down the skin that covered his chest, reveling in the groan that left his mouth. He leaned over me again, his lips wasting no time before they covered my nipple. My hands tried to grip the short hair at the back of his head.

“Aaron,” I gasped out. “I need…more. Please.”

He started kissing his way to my other breast. “What do you need, sweetheart? Do you want to grind against my thigh? Do you need to use me to get off?” His tongue flicked over my nipple. “Or do you want me to use my hand? Is that what you need, Angel?” My heart stuttered at the sweet nickname just as much as it did at his filthy words. “Do you need me to put my fingers in your pussy?”

My thighs were shifting restlessly. “Yes, yes, please Aaron.”

When his mouth closed around my nipple, I felt his left-hand slide down into my shorts, then into my panties. He shifted his wrist, allowing his hand to cup me. He groaned against my skin. "I haven't even put a finger inside of you and I can already feel how wet you are. Your little cunt is just dripping for me.”

I didn’t have a chance to respond before he parted my lips, his finger ghosting over my clit, causing my back to arch off the bed. He smirked but didn’t tease me further; he slid his fingers down to my opening before pushing his middle and ring finger inside of me, using the heel of his hand to grind against my clit. I moved my hand to my mouth, having to bite on my skin to silence the scream that his actions brought forward.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He leaned back, never pausing the movement of his fingers. “Are you trying to be quiet? Do you not want everyone in this hotel to know how wet you are? How desperate you are to have my fingers inside of you?” All I could do was nod. “It’s all right, baby. Once we get home, I’ll hear you scream for me. But for now; be a good girl and try to be quiet. I’m the only one that gets to hear what you sound like when you cum for me.”

I was grinding against him, working my hips desperately, matching his rhythm. I was so close. “Aaron, NO!” was all I could say when he removed his fingers from inside me. The man just smiled at me, looking me straight in my eyes when he put his fingers in his mouth, licking me off of them.

He grabbed my shorts and panties at my hips, roughly jerking them off my body. “When we get home,” he said as he slowly started to push his own pajama pants down. “The first thing I’m going to do is lay on my back and make you put this pussy on my mouth. You taste so good, angel.” His cock sprang free; he was so much thicker than I expected. I was transfixed, just watching his fist pump up and down his hard length. “Will you do that for me? Will you ride my face?”

“Yes,” I was so desperate I would agree to anything in that moment. “I’ll do anything. Just please fuck me, Aaron.”

He used the fingers of his free hand to part my pussy lips again, rubbing over my clit. “I don’t have a condom, sweetheart, but-“

“I’m on the pill,” I reach out to grip his shoulders, pulling him on top of me. “I trust you. I trust you with everything. I need you inside me, Aaron.”

He shoved my thighs open, running the head of his cock up and down my pussy, coating himself in my arousal. He looked up at me again, giving me another moment to back out, before he slowly started to push inside of me. He stroked in and out of me, going a little bit deeper each time until he bottomed out. Aaron’s head fell to the dip of my shoulder. “Fuck,” he whispered. “You’re so fucking tight.” He started moving then. Slowly pulling out before he shoved himself back inside me. My hands were on his back, my nails digging into his skin. I wrapped my legs around his back, trying to draw him deeper inside me.

“You feel so good,” I whisper, biting his shoulder to keep my moans quiet.

Aaron raised up on straight arms, changing the tempo of his thrusts. “You’re not doing a very good job of being quiet, baby.” I whimpered; I couldn’t help it. “I think we might have to do something about that. He quickly pulled out of me; I didn’t have time to complain before he flipped me over, gripping my hips and lifting me up on to my knees. His hand palmed my ass cheek while he leaned over me, his breath hot on my ear. “This is how you need to be fucked.”

Raising up, he lined himself up and slammed inside of me. I bit my lip so hard that I could taste blood; Aaron tangled his hands in the back of my hair, pulling my head up while he set a brutal pace. "Quiet, baby. You don't want everyone to know what a dirty girl you are. Screaming for my cock, so wet that you're dripping down your thighs." His pace didn't slow down; I felt my orgasm rising up inside me. "Touch your clit for me, sweet girl. I want to feel you cum on my cock."

My fingers began circling my clit in a frenzy, causing my pussy to flutter around him. “That’s a good girl. Such a good girl for me. Can you be quiet when you cum? Or do I need to shove your face down in the mattress while I fuck you?” He gave a dark chuckle at my needy whine. “That’s what I thought.”

In the way that he knew everything, Aaron knew when my orgasm was peaking. He pushed my head down, never too hard, but hard enough. I bit the comforter in an attempt to silence my scream. I felt myself clamp down around his thick cock. My orgasm broke inside me so quickly. I screamed his name while I came; the comforter silenced some of it, but he heard it. That scream along with my pussy cumming on him was ultimately his undoing. He gave a few final thrusts before he went all the way, holding himself inside me as deep as he could, filling me with his cum.

I collapsed after that. I had never felt anything like this before. Aaron was there, knowing what I needed even when I didn’t. He held me for a moment until I caught my breath. Then he went into the bathroom, coming back with a damp washcloth to clean me up. He was so tender with my sensitive flesh; he didn’t say anything, he just focused on his task.

Once he was satisfied, he laid down beside me, drawing me into his side just as he’d done the night before. I couldn’t help the dry chuckle that left my exhausted body. Aaron made a ‘hmm’ noise. “I was just thinking about last night,” I said quietly, my voice raw from the screaming I had just done. “You held me like this last night. It was just 24 hours ago, but the whole world feels different.”

He made a noise in the back of his throat that I took as an agreement. After a beat, he said, "well, maybe you won't run out on me in the morning this time."

I looked into his eyes, raising up to press a kiss against his stubbly jaw. “I’ll never run again.”

And I meant it. I could face any monster, as long as Aaron Hotchner was beside me.

#aaron hotchner #Aaron Hotchner x reader #Hotchner x reader #Hotch x reader #Aaron Hotchner Imagine #Hotchner imagine #hotch imagine #Aaron Hotchner smut #Hotchner smut #hotch smut #Aaron Hotchner fan fic #Hotch fan fic #Hotchner fan fic #Aaron Hotchner x you #Aaron Hotchner x y/n #Hotchner x you #Hotchner x y/n #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #ssa aaron hotchner

[apollostears]

TEENAGE LOVE AFFAIR [ BTS ]

group: BTS

pairing: BTS x daughter!reader

warning(s): swearing

request: can you do BTS reacting to their 15 year old daughter having a boyfriend/girlfriend?

requested by: @mela3340

oomfggg this was so fun to make!! thanks for requesting the first request of 2021 :) hope you enjoy love <3

��︎ jin

he’s literally dramatic af.

#dramaking

but no really, he’ll be shook to the gods.

like huh??? his child got a partner?!!!

my kid?!!! IN THESE STREETS?!

he would faint, then wake back up and shake her til she’s dizzy.

ok but on a more serious note, i think if he saw his daughter have genuine feelings for this person they’re with, he would support a 100%

definitely wants to meet them asap

would chaperone their dates but in a way that’s soooo cliché. i mean ugly ass disguises cliché.

will definitely have a heart attack if his daughters partner used the fake ‘yawn-over-the-shoulder’ move while at the movies.

all his daughter would hear is someone choking horrendously a few rooms behind them and instantly know it’s her dad.

will call the boys up every time she asks him to go on a date with their partner or if they can come over to hang and study.

“i’m at a lost here! it’s like i’m in the war!” jin exaggerates on the group call with his friends.

“hyung, i think you’re over exaggerating.” jungkook would say sheepishly.

with the straightest face, jin would hang up and contemplate his choice in friends.

after about the sixth month mark, i do think he’d let up a tremendous amount.

like he’s no longer breathing down her neck about them and allows them to go on dates without him, so long as she tells him where they’re going.

10/10 is the dramatic dad that goes through a midlife crisis when their daughter starts dating.

➝︎ yoongi

mans does not care.

ok lemme clarify, he doesn’t care to the extent that jin does. he trusts his daughter and her decisions and understands that this is an important part of her life. he’s gonna try his hardest to not overstep.

but deep down, he definitely is having a hard time coming to grasps that his daughter is in love and starting to enter the dating world.

he understands the pressures surrounding dating too, especially at fifteen. so he’s definitely giving a nice lil lecture about sex, safe sex, consensual sex, and commitment.

and yes, yoongi knows that most of these young love relationships don’t last long, but he wants his daughter to know that her relationship is legit to him. no matter how old she is.

will look intimidating af to their daughters bf or gf. he definitely overhears them discussing if yoongi likes them or not 💀

looks like he could kill you and will but is also such a sweetheart once you actually know him.

doesn’t do no undercover brother shit but will follow his daughter on their first few dates just because he’s worried. isn’t overbearing and keeps a good distance.

honestly, if anything it brings his daughter a lot of comfort to know her dad is there to back her up 🙂

100%!is the father that seems like they’re chill on the surface but on the inside is working overtime to not be overreactive when their child starts dating.

➝︎ namjoon

is literally the 😯 emoji

when his daughter tells him that she’s got a lover, he literally looks exactly like that emoji.

he’s like “love? what you know about that?”

is extremely confused the entire time. yes, he knows that at her age, children start experimenting with dating but he never actually thought he’d have to deal with it.

was definitely worried that he’d lose out on daddy-daughter time once she started dating.

that was his biggest fear. that his daughter wouldn’t need him anymore. she would no worries.

is deathly afraid of his daughter experiencing heartbreak. their s/o could be the perfect match for his kid, he still wouldn’t care. namjoon is going to be worried regardless.

constantly asks for updates on their relationship to see if he needs to give any advice on how to keep the relationship going.

he doesn’t see their love as something immature. namjoon values it the same way he would value an adult relationship.

which meansss giving them the birds n the bees. same as yoongi, a thorough talk on sexually transmitted diseases, birth control, safe sex, you name it.

was incredibly nervous to meet the person their daughter was dating 💀 like how you supposed to be the daddy but more scared than the actual date.

chaperones his daughter’s first couple of dates. doesn’t get in their way but definitely makes his presence known when does attend.

has a strict “have her home by 9 or else” policy.

won’t ground their child if they give them a heads up on why they would be late.

is 100% the type to be the “work in progress” dad that wishes there was a book on what to do when your teenage daughter starts dating.

➝︎ hobi

mans was like “awww my wittle baby likes somebody!”

was wayyy more excited about meeting their child’s s/o then what is deemed normal.

don’t get me wrong, he’s definitely protective of his kid but hobi understands that these things happen.

it was bound to happen that one day his daughter would start dating.

doesn’t hound his child with questions but is very curious to learn more about this bf/gf that their daughter has.

when he meets them, he’s very scary looking at first. switching into serious hobi, he intimidates the kid just a bit before breaking into a grin and letting them know he was kidding.

is the type of dad that would make their daughters’ s/o fall in love with him 💀

hobi gets along with virtually anyone so it wasn’t hard for him to bond with the s/o.

however, he does make it known that he is a father and while the kid seems to be an alright choice for his daughter, he still lets them know that he will go liam neeson on a motherfucker if necessary.

doesn’t follow his daughter on dates but somehow ends up attending some of them because they both want him around.

on the times he doesn’t go, there is a curfew in place and it’s 8 o’clock 😔

hobi is 100% the dad to become friends with their daughters’ bf/gf but still be a force to be reckon with when needed.

➝︎ jimin

probably the one who meddles in their daughters love life.

sees their daughter walkout of school with a guy and is asking fifty million questions on who he is and if she likes him.

all for her to turn around and be like “dad, i’m gay.”

and he’s like 🥺🥰 “good, boys are disgusting anyways.”

so now he’s scoping out girls that could be a potential match for his kid 💀

“what about her?”

“nah, she’s a little rude to me.”

“you know what they say! she likes you!”

“no dad. just...no.”

was not expecting the girl his daughter chooses but can totally see it once he actually gets to know her.

is constantly giving his daughter cute date ideas for her to do w her gf. definitely has a pintrest board of places for them.

will happily be a chauffeur for his daughter if necessary. this can be good and bad. good bc yayay free rides. bad because she has to deal with a jimin that wants to be on time or a jimin that makes them ten minutes late to a movie showing. there is no in between.

he doesn’t follow his daughter around. mainly because he’s always driving them but if he doesn’t, she still gives him a heads up on where they’re going.

doesn’t mind them hanging sleepovers or leaving the door closed but will totally pop up at random times to be nosey.

is definitely in his daughters corner anytime someone tries to give her and her gf a hard time for being together.

a 100% the dad that’s constantly involved in his child’s love life but not to an extreme point. is totally just excited to be there and apart of her world.

➝︎ taehyung

the motherfucker is all smug and shit talking about some “ i know ” 😏 when his daughter approaches him about her new partner.

lets be real; taehyung would know his daughter like the back of his hands. he would have suspicions that she’s seeing somebody but won’t pressure her to speak until she’s ready.

acts like the fbi when he finally meets their daughter’s partner.

is stalking all social media, finding where they work, who they guardians are, and where they grandma stay 💀🤣

but it’s really because he knows how dangerous people are and the last thing he wants is for his kids’ life to be in danger.

is definitely a hard ass to whoever his daughter ends up dating regardless of gender. will go major payne on a motherfucker real quick.

does not care if he gets caught watching out for his daughter while she’s on a date. will deadass sit there and stare them down as they look at him, completely unbothered.

after meeting their partner a few times, he’ll become a bit more loose in regards to their relationship but will still eye them wearily.

his daughter is very important to him and he’s just worried about any potential heartbreak she may experience.

“have you ever killed?”

“uh, no sir. i-i’m only fifteen...sir.”

kisses teeth, “would you kill for my daughter?”

*beat of silence, two horrified teenagers*

scoffs, “pathetic. d/n choose a new partner.”

“dad!”

seems like a hard ass and is a hard ass but it’s completely out of love.

is 100% the dad that gives their daughter’s partner a hard time and will hold such a passive face that they’ll never know if he likes them or not, but overtime will start loosening up and accept them for who they are.

➝︎ jungkook

he was thoroughly surprised.

like...she might as well had told him she was pregnant.

jk needed a moment to comprehend that his daughter...his precious jewel was dating.

just the thought sent chills down his spine with his dramatic ass.

immediately demanded to meet the person who stole his daughter from him. and when he found out it was the bad kid from school??!!! mans was heated.

i mean really? the juvenile delinquent of ALL people?

he feels this way mainly because he remembers how he was as a kid and he knows how anal teenagers can be. really just wants the best for his kid.

is present for their first date. why is that? because it was at their house with him sitting on the opposite couch, watching them like a hawk as they attempted to watch a movie.

after that, his daughter had a serious talk with him about personal space and independence.

jungkook didn’t like the fact that he had to have this talk, but he understands it’s importance. him and his daughter have a sacred bond with one another that he doesn’t wanna risk breaking all because of his overprotectiveness.

that overprotectiveness does come in handy though because their daughters’ partner is always on time when it comes to getting her and dropping her off. honestly, if his daughter ever tried to convince their partner to skip curfew, their partner would text jungkook to snitch 💀

“so...you tried to skip curfew, eh?”

“wha-? how do you know this?!”

smirks, “i see all d/n. besides, your partner knows not to cross that line with me.”

“i literally cannot stand either of you.”

this has definitely led the daughter to question if she has a relationship or if her dad has a relationship with her s/o.

after about three months of them dating, jungkook turns into a pretty chill dad to be real. at that point, he understands that he can’t protect her from pain. so, he might as well just try his best to support his daughter through everything she does.

is 100% that is overly dramatic at first and comes off as incredibly scary but eventually comes down to earth and becomes a big teddy bear 🥰

❧ join my taglist: @olamidey @knjkitten @pimpnameyannie @sweeneyblue1 @sunrayyellowhalo @exomama-random @simplyskz-maya @valkryienymph @supop @namjoonswifeyy @asparagusclifford

#kmimagines #mayawrites #black!reader #ambw imagines #kpop imagines #fluff #requested #bts #bts x reader #bts x daughter!reader #dad!headcanon #dad!bts #dad!jin #dad!jungkook #dad!jimin #dad!namjoon #dad!yoongi #dad!taehyung #bts x daughter #bts x black reader #namjoon x daughter reader #jin x daughter reader #bts!au #jungkook x daughter reader #yoongi x daughter reader #taehyung x daughter reader #hobi x daughter reader #jimin x daughter reader #dad!hobi #bts headcanons

[stxleslyds]

NIGHTWING #81

UMM... HOW ABOUT NO. 

Ever since Tom Taylor took over Nightwing I have only made a post about one issue of his (I will leave it here Nightwing #78), that issue was beautiful, it was a solid start and the little things that made me feel a bit icky were not mentioned in the post because the issue was good.

Then the issues felt like connectors or just very bland story wise. I had problems with the book also feeling like a Nightwing and (fake) Oracle book instead of just Nightwing. There were many instances where Dick alone could have gotten himself out of situations without Barbara, but because she was there the opportunity to show that he can do things was taken from him. I guess what I am trying to say is that the book has disappointed me but I didn’t feel like making a post because it was too early and this is an ongoing book that Taylor said he planned on continuing for a while, but now I can’t not make a post.

A few days ago, I finally read the Red Hood story in Urban Legends (I have a review for that one too I will link it here Red Hood part 4) and I couldn’t stand how OOC and disappointing the story/characterization has been. I am saying this because I am only reading these two books at the moment, ONLY these two, and all I have gotten from them is shit.

I know it’s still early to say that the Nightwing book is bad but…I hated this issue, I hated it with all of my heart. But now that I am a bit calmer, I have come up with some ideas of what is truly going on with the Melinda situation.

Anyway, let me give you my thoughts.

There are big Wilson Fisk vibes coming from both Blockbuster and Melinda Zucco. Those two will lie, manipulate and be evil every chance they get. They are working together to make Nightwing disappear. I know it. The whole “make us all much wealthier and to extend your power beyond the city” idea does not include Nightwing.

Melinda might not want to burn anything down but she sure isn’t a hero. This woman accepted the position of Mayor after watching Blockbuster kill the former mayor. I understand that talking with the BHPD isn’t the best idea but this woman feels way too comfortable in the presence of a killer.

She is cunning and she has plans, I strongly believe that she might be a villain and that she will betray Blockbuster and take all the power (if it reaches that point) to herself.

Heartless is just another weirdo, he tricks both Nightwing and the reader into thinking that he has a soft spot for kids but surprise! He doesn’t. There isn’t much to say about him, he just has very complex gadgets and doesn’t know how to fight. I don’t even have any ideas about who he might be.

What I know though is that there was absolutely no need for Dick to think that he had “underestimated” Heartless, my love you threw your stick at him while he was looking directly at you, there was a 50/50 chance of him catching it. I swear I don’t understand the need to write him thinking that mostly because Taylor then has Dick swiping the floor with the guy, not only is it a simple fight (for Dick) but it’s also boring for him. Taylor’s writing is so annoying sometimes, he just loves to write extra things that are out of place like the “Tim Drake. Thought of by many as the best Robin” why the fuck did he put that there? Honestly, what was the point of having Dick say that, I don’t read a Nightwing book to have Tim Drake praise. If it doesn’t offer anything to the story that is being told then keep the thought to yourself Tom...

Moving forward the scene in the pier was quite nice, mostly because it’s Dick’s quick thinking that gets everyone to safety, he knows exactly what to do and how to contact the Maritime distress channel.

He has hope for his city, he knows there is good in it and he believes help will show up when lives are about to be lost. I loved that, just like Heartless said, Nightwing IS Bludhaven’s Guardian Angel. Once again, I am having Daredevil vibes from Dick (like from the show)

After the fight we get to see consequences of Dick not healing properly from a shot to the head. He loses his consciousness which is extremely dangerous but luckily Tim is at arm’s reach to help him out of the pier.

There are many things I want to talk about from the scenes that happen after Dick wakes up in his apartment so here we go.

First of all, Bitewing is adorable, she loves Dick the most and was happy to see him awake once more, what a good girl!

Secondly, Barbara, honey, you do not have three names, you aren’t Batgirl anymore, you are a grown woman that needs to move on from a mantle that has other people that can do something else/better with it. And we all know that this Oracle is just the ableist version of Oracle. So yeah…all I ask is for Barbara to move on from Batgirl, Cass and Stephanie are right there, enough is enough.

In these panels we have Dick, Tim and Barbara being kinda dismissive about the homeless kids, and it has been happening for so many issues, what is the point, Taylor? You made Dick a millionaire and you just can’t have him say or think for a second that he will monetarily help those kids and make sure they are put somewhere safe? You are really going to wait up until you have Dick running for Mayor or something to help the kids? I just don’t get it. Kids living on the streets and each time they are mentioned the three heroes of the book act like it’s normal and doesn’t need fixing. What the fuck.

Then we have the gang finding out that Melinda Zucco is the new mayor, the woman has an FBI file and a redacted one! This makes me think two things, either things are like I thought in the beginning of the post (she is evil and very good at it) or this woman is actually FBI and she is undercover (this one is less likely because of what happens at the end of the issue).

What we can see from the file that Barbara found is very little, but in these two pictures we can see that maybe she was put in foster care and x age? Also, she was apparently investigated in April of 20xx, the investigation must have been recent, why would the FBI investigate a minor or college student? What if these files were implanted by Melinda for someone to find them, and for her to have some sort of proof of her lies? If the file is about her being left in foster care or something while would the file be redacted? I don’t know, everything about her is shady and I don’t trust anything from or about her.

This could be a complex and very interesting character but Tom Taylor and DC really love to do stupid shit for shock value (more of this later).

All the new information (the Maroni, Blockbuster and now this very shady Mayor) has Dick saying that it is a bit too much for him and yeah, it is too much, you know who could help? Red Hood. I am of course not talking about current DC comics Red Hood, I am talking about the Red Hood that I would love to see, just yesterday I had an ask about who would I like to see working with Jason and I said Nightwing because Dick puts a lot of responsibility on his shoulders so it would be nice if they negotiated and each could work on different crime areas in Bludhaven, if only DC would hear me…

Anyway, now that we come to the end of the scene let’s talk about Barbara’s shirt.

That was unnecessary and not funny. That’s all it was. Yeah, I know it’s a meme and I know it was included for funny ha-ha purposes but I am not laughing. Bruce has been written as abusive towards his kids for so long, Jason, Tim and Dick have been physically harmed by Bruce and writers use it as just something that happens, there are never repercussions for the Bat. And this shirt sucks because Dick was Robin there and he was a kid, so having Barbara or anyone wearing a shirt with Batman hitting Robin!Dick right in front of Dick is just disgusting. What if someone wore a shirt that had Joker beating Jason with a crowbar in front of Jason, would that be a funny ha-ha too? What about Dick wearing a shirt with the Joker shooting Barbara, is that a funny ha-ha? The answer to those questions is no, it’s not funny.

The idea of that shirt shouldn’t have been pitched, drawn or included after the editor took a look at it.

The picture is a meme in our world, not in theirs. And the readers aren’t laughing.

 Back to the issue, Dick is left alone in his apartment to rest (seriously? You think the man that showed up to help Bruce in Gotham with a knee brace is going to rest?) but he can’t, he just found out that Mayor Zucco might be trouble for Bludhaven and might be working with not only Blockbuster but the Maroni family. He is not waiting one more second to have a chat with her.

Dick is obviously still concussed so of course he grabs a mask that has a camera that Oracle can view, and of course he enters yet another window without being careful.

Melinda and Audre were obviously waiting for him.

But here is where the real bullshit begins. Dick is unmasked.

I am so mad; it’s been four issues and Dick gets his ass in a trap and is unmasked by a villain? Are you kidding me right now?

But that’s not all, after Dick breaks free and accuses Melinda of being the daughter of the man that killed his parents, she pulls out a uno reverse card and says that her actual father is John Grayson, and that she is his sister.

How about no. Absolutely not. Go away.

Let’s re-visit Melinda’s appearances in the book so far so we can start theorizing about her real intentions or if she could be saying the truth.

Back in issue #78 where she is first introduced to us, after Melinda watches Blockbuster kill the mayor, she goes home and tells her Audre that she is now mayor because Blockbuster did what he does, so she knows that this guy is trash and a killer. But that’s not all, Audre asks her if she came across Dick Grayson to which Melinda answers “I am not ready for him yet”. Audre suggests she talks to him sooner rather than later because she might not have “another chance”, and the issue ends with Melinda agreeing with her while she is looking at a Flying Graysons poster with a red circle framing Dick’s face.

That whole thing? Shady. Melinda, obviously, wanted to talk to Dick Grayson, probably to tell him that she is his sister, but why is there a time limit, why is Audre telling Melinda that she can’t wait too long? Is it because her undercover work is ending soon? Is it because it’s not real at all and she needs to tell that lie in order to move forward with some sort of plan? I don’t know…

In issue #79 Melinda (and Audre) are out in the open with Maroni and they are talking about her becoming the next Mayor, Nightwing was watching from afar so this is his first contact with her. And it might be the first time that Melinda and her friend see Nightwing in action too. I cannot tell if she is aware that Nightwing/Dick Grayson are the same person here.

In #80 she doesn’t make an appearance.

But now in #81 she is taking her place as Mayor of Bludhaven, there Commissioner McClean takes her somewhere she didn’t expect to go (she is shown not knowing that Maroni and Blockbuster were in the next room over). Once in the room she refuses to take the cash from McClean but she will take the money as a transaction (for a second I thought she wouldn’t take the money but she did because she is very corrupt) and talks to Maroni once more. Before I talk about what happens with Blockbuster let me say this, she acts so distant to Maroni, she calls him Mr. Maroni every single time and she comes off as cold and feeling no type of way while talking with someone that is part of the family that actually raised her, and this is not because she is in a room full of other people, she did it too in #79. It seems weird that she acts that way with someone that took her under his wing since she was eight years old.

When she sits with Blockbuster he says “tell us your plan for my city” to which she says all of this: “My plan, Blockbuster, is to make us all much wealthier and to extend your power beyond the city. But to do so in a way that builds on the good work you’ve already done I have no interest in burning anything down.”

At the start of the post I said she gave me big Wilson Fisk vibes and that right there is why. She is shady, she has plans on top of plans, she calls Roland Desmond Blockbuster to his face but says that he has done good work for Bludhaven, which is weird because Blockbuster destroys Bludhaven a couple of times a year…

As I said before whatever she has planned does not include Nightwing, and here is where I kinda start theorizing a bit more, what if Blockbuster told Melinda Nightwing’s real name, he used to know who he was once upon a time…

Later in this issue when Nightwing is going to Melinda’s place Audre is already waiting for him right next to the window (with a sword), so, was he making an insane amount of noise or were they told to be ready for him?

Melinda traps him and takes his mask off, she barely seems surprised about Nightwing being Dick, she barely reacts when he jumps at her. She is in complete control of the situation and proves that by disarming Dick, as fast as he accuses her of being Zucco’s daughter she tells him that her real father is John Grayson.

She is in complete control. She has to be lying, she put a stop to whatever Dick had to say and do in seconds. This woman is trained and she is manipulative as fuck!

And if she isn’t lying then fuck DC and fuck Tom Taylor, this woman is either younger or the same age as Dick, John Grayson was not a cheater, the man is dead, has been dead for so long, don’t throw dirt on his name at this point. I refuse to believe this is true.

I honestly think that she is evil, and knows more than we are aware of, her first appearance was shady as fuck, let's suppose that she didn’t truly know that Dick was Nightwing, why on earth did she have a Flying Graysons poster with a red circle on top of Dick’s face? That doesn’t seem like something a sister would do! And why would this be information that is so important that she NEEDS to tell him in a certain amount of time?

It’s fucking insane. Tom Taylor, if she is actually Dick's sister then shame on you. Disgusting, what is with writers and cheating, what the hell is going on? Dick doesn’t need to think back to his parents and see a cheater in one of them. This better be Melinda being a cruel and vile human being that is trying to emotionally hurt Dick/Nightwing so she and Blockbuster can do whatever its they want to do.

That’s all I have to say.

#dick grayson #nightwing #nightwing 81 #dc comics #dc infinite frontier #melinda zucco #nightwing and bitewing #bitewing #blockbuster

[yourmidnightlover]

i’ll never be ready

Summary: when you've been taken by the recent unsub, you both come to a shocking realization.

TW: torture, self-hatred (derek, spencer), scars, noah (the sucky date guy), angst, fluff if you squint. let me know if i missed anything*

WC: 3,486

————————————————————————

saying the case was rough was under kill-which, ironically, was opposite of the unsub's mo. everyone had nearly lost count of how long they had been awake. 36, maybe 38 hours of nonstop work? going over case files and reviewing them for something - anything you might've missed. it all seemed a bit pointless because each time you reread a file you felt your eyes dropping down, threatening to betray you and make you succumb to the sleep.

"y/n," hotch spoke. "you've been up the longest. go back to the hotel with derek and get some rest. be back here in 5 hours," he demanded in a soft tone.

"won't argue with that," you chuckled best you could before morgan grabbed the keys, ushering the two of you to the car.

your hotel room was a few doors down from morgan's. he bid you goodnight before he opened his door, allowing you to continue on to your room. you decided to get a bottle of water - the sleep deprivation probably making you feel more dehydrated than you actually were.

after you paid for the bottle, you took a swig of it and trudged on to your room. only, you didn't make it. it felt as though the sleep you yearned for had finally taken over as it was accompanied by a throbbing migraine in the back of your head.

-

"what's taking them so long?" emily asked, looking at hotch for answers.

l"i'm not sure. i told them to only be gone for fi-" he was cut off by morgan slamming into the police station.

"she's gone," he uttered plainly, worriedly as he avoided any eye contact with the rest of the team.

"what do you mean 'she's gone?'" jj argued, feeling the worry bubble up inside of her as morgan continued talking.

"i knocked on her door to let her know that we had to leave. i-i thought she might've just slept through her alarm. but then she never answered," his eyes finally met someone on the team's. "i kicked through the door and the bed -it-it wasn't even slept in. i'm so sorry," he mumbled to that particular team member.

spencer felt his heart drop in his chest. he wasn't angry, per say. he was furious. he was frustrated and confused and wanted to hit something - someone. but not morgan. he wasn't mad at morgan. it wasn't his fault you were gone. at least that's what he thought until Garcia pulled up the footage from 6 hours ago.

the image of derek going inside his room, allowing you to wander past yours and retrieve the water before walking halfway back to yours, only to be hit over the head, was the only thing he could see. and what he did see... well, what he saw was in red.

"you didn't even walk her to her room?!" spencer accused derek.

"kid, we were all tired. i'm sorry, i really am," he pleaded with the young man.

"don't 'kid' me! 'sorry' won't bring her back! we know what this guy does to people and you didn't even make sure she was safe!" spencer walked closer to derek. "i can't believe you. we all had a discussion about how she was the unsub's type. you knew that and you still let her get taken," he poked his finger in his chest.

"i didn't let her do anything. i didn't want this to happen, reid," morgan tried to calm him down, only for them to be interrupted by jj coming into the room, asking for spencer to come with her before promptly leaving derek by himself. "i-i swear, babygirl, i didn't think th-"

"that's the problem, derek," she cut him off. "you didn't think," she said in a calm, sweet tone. "i love you, i truly do, but even when your guards are down when you're tired... you need to think."

"i know... i know. i don't- i don't know what to do now," he wiped the tears from his eyes.

"now you go be the hero i know you are," garcia smiled before signing off, leaving derek staring at a blank, black screen.

-

"look who's up," the unsub sang as you turned your head whilst lying on the cold, steel table. "before you try anything, there's no point in fighting. you're strapped down with reinforcements and the room is sealed with a steel door that can only be unlocked with my key."

"so what? should i just let you do whatever you want to me?" you scoffed as you rolled your eyes, observing the state of the room.

it wasn't very clean. it was dirty and grungy and the smell was absolutely horrid. you nearly gagged upon looking to the corner of the room, seeing an abundance of takeout and old pizza boxes - clearly old and moldy.

"that'll happen regardless, sweetheart," he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, humming as he did so. "such a beautiful girl, truly," his hand travelled further south, grasping your neck tightly with the one hand before he brought a second one up to join it.

you stared him in his hooded eyes as he strangled you gently. you didn't make a show if it - that's where he got off. you wouldn't give him the satisfaction. although you would have to throw him a bone so he wouldn't kill you.

he was a sexual sadist. he got the relief from your pain and struggle. he would keep at it until you gave him what he wanted - your pain.

the profile had revealed that the unsub had a history of hatred for women from his own mother - who was most likely abusive. it was assumed that his father left at an early age and his mother blamed him for his departure.

"damnit!" he slapped your face, relinquishing his grip on your throat to allow you to breathe.

"what? can the big-strong-tough-guy not get off?" you mocked him, another slap hitting your face.

"shut UP!" he shouted at you. "when i get back you better be more cooperative," he spat out before grabbing a duffel bag and leaving.

a sigh of relief left you when the doors shut, hearing the deadbolt latch lock to signal you were stuck. you wriggled your wrists around, noticing they were bound by leather straps, as were your ankles.

-

"alright," hotch began as they gathered in the makeshift conference room, "so he has a 12 hour lead on us with her. we've profiled that the unsub keeps all the women at the same location. it'd be too difficult to move them with all the equipment he uses on them..." he looked towards spencer as he spoke, wanting to make sure he was alright.

"this has to be a power assertion move," emily added.

"you're right," rossi agreed. "taking a fbi agent would make him arrogant."

"so maybe he'll screw up? maybe we could find her?" spencer lit up at the brief sight of hope.

"don't get too excited, we still need him to make that mistake. but, yes, there's hope," hotch agreed.

penelope appeared all too sudden on the laptop screen, looking rather worried before she announced, "i'm gonna send you the video that just appeared on every screen in my bat cave. just... be prepared."

and then you were there.

you were strapped to the table, your shirt cut open to reveal your skin to the screen. the camera seemed to be hovering above the bed, focused on your body and the marks that already adorned it. you had a hand-shaped bruise on your trachea; a bruise on your cheekbone underneath your eye was contrasting your pale skin. the gag in your mouth held it open in what seemed to be an uncomfortable position. you looked tired. reasonably so, you never did get that proper rest you wanted.

and spencer would never get to tell you what he wanted if you couldn't make it out of there alive.

he never thought of you as anything but a friend but now that there was the possibility of you not making it back to him, he couldn't help but feel different about you. his heart was aching and he knew it would never stop until he was able to give it to you. now, he knew he wanted to hold you as more than a friend. he wanted to dance with you romantically rather than a silly platonic friendly thing. he wanted to kiss you, and tell you that he'd never leave you alone again. he just wanted you.

"look at how pretty she is lying there on the table," a voice that was off-screen cheered out. "although she's always quite the hottie, isn't that right... spencer? was that the name you told me, agent?" he grasped your chin, forcing your face to contort as you tried to wrangle yourself free from his grasp. "it was, wasn't it?" he laughed before releasing your face.

your eyes welled with tears upon the realization that the team might not make it to you on time. you had tried to put up a fight - you swore you did. but you could only fight so hard for so long. the light left your eyes in the form of tears streaming down your face, leaving them on display for your own team to mourn with you.

"looks like he won't be saving you, after all," he chuckled as shuffling was heard from over the screen. "let's see if they like the show, huh?" he brought a knife from out of his bag before removing the gag from your mouth.

"turn it off! turn it off!" you begged. "they-they don't need to see this, hudson," you revealed his name.

"hudson was the deputy that went home 13 hours ago. he was the one that gave us the files and intel on people in town. i guess he didn't actually go home," reid reminded the team.

"shut up, BITCH!" hudson wiped the knife down your right arm, a light hiss leaving your mouth from the intrusion.

"how about we get something to eat, yea? order some more jonny's pizza?" you emphasized before the knife went back into your skin, this time on the other arm.

"jonny's pizza is in a neighborhood only 10 miles away from here. hudson might own property near there. garcia?" spencer announced once more.

"on it," penelope declared before working her magic. "it says here that hudson's family owns an old restaurant that was shut down three years ago. it was passed on to him once his mother died. i'm sending the address your way."

"morgan, you're with me and emily-"

"i'm going with you," reid interjected.

"are you sure you're in the right-"

"i have to see her. i have to... i have to make sure she's okay," spencer tried to reason. hotch sighed before nodding his head in agreement.

they brought an ipad with them so they could watch as they traveled to the location. your arms were bleeding, but he had avoided the major arteries that would've killed you. your sobs wracked through the device, shattering spencer's heart more than he thought possible.

when they got to the restaurant, there were wooden boards surrounding every entrance. they left the sirens off in hopes to not scare the unsub into killing you.

"fbi!" morgan did his classic entrance, kicking the door in promptly. "hudson williams! fbi!" he led the team to the back of the room where a large, steel door rested.

spencer and hotch went to the sides of morgan, nodding at him to continue before he kicked the door in. the three, followed by more swat members, flooded inside the room quickly. spencer's eyes locked on yours as you lay on the table, looking sideways to see him. he saw the tears flow from your eyes as the unsub swung his knife up into the air, intent on stabbing you once more, this time fatally. spencer could swear he saw you mouth something to him before a shot rang through the air.

he looked to his side to see morgan had fired the shot that killed hudson, his knife falling beside your body as your body began shaking with sobs.

"let me go! let me go ple-please! get these off!" your arms struggled at the restraints before spencer holstered his gun, running to your side to work at the leather bindings.

"i'm here," he undid your wrists before you wrapped them around his neck, burying your face in his shoulder before sobs overtook you. "you're safe now, you're safe," his hand stroked the back of your head as you cried into his skin. "here," he pulled back momentarily before he shrugged off his vest and cardigan, handing you the cardigan to pull over your body.

"thanks," you sniffled as you pulled it tight over your body, covering your exposed state before embracing spencer once more, pulling him as close as you possibly could.

"i'm never letting you go again, y/n," he whispered before placing a kiss to your hairline. "never."

"good," you responded before he took you in his arms, carrying you to the ambulance that made it's way to the restaurant soon after they did.

you were severely dehydrated. the lacerations on your arm caused you to lose a lot of blood. you had a concussion. but you would be okay. you were alive. by some miracle, you were alive. you were alive and he'd never let you out of his sight again.

the entire time you were gone, you couldn't stop thinking about spencer. i mean, yes, your team entered your mind but not as much as spencer. who did you cry out for when he would hurt you? spencer. where would you go to distract you from what was going on? spencer's arms. spencer was the answer to all of your problems. it was spencer.

"spencer?" you asked as your head was resting on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as a mild attempt to keep you warm.

"yes?" he turned his head down to face your droopy face.

"i..." you stopped once you realized what you had planned on revealing. "please don't leave?"

"i won't," he gently took your chin in his hand, lifting your face up to see his. "i promise."

you nodded your head contentedly, satisfied with his answer. you couldn't say anything about how you felt now of all times. you needed him, as selfish as that seemed. you needed him to lean on as a crutch right now. telling him how you feel is risky. he could run away and distance himself from you once you open your mouth. so instead, you'd keep it shut.

as the weeks went by, your wounds healed. your heart tried to mend itself as time went on, but the process wasn't as smooth as it was with your external wounds. it was a rollercoaster process. you tried to convince yourself that you didn't love spencer. each night when he would come to your house to check up on you and watch a tv show or movie, you allowed yourself to imagine a life with him. a life where you didn't have to hide your feelings from him.

and spencer thought that telling you right after might've brought on too much stress for you. he thought it would be selfish to tell you such a thing after you nearly died. so, he pushed his feelings down as well.

and then penelope happened.

she had set you up on a date with one of sam's friends from counter-terrorism. you didn't really want to go, but you felt bad enough after skipping all of the girls' nights once you got abducted. so, you had gotten ready.

you wore a long-sleeved blouse and a skirt, the sleeves to avoid a conversation with a stranger you truly weren't ready for. to be honest, you were dreading whatever would happen tonight. you had mentioned the date to spencer, telling him how you didn't even want to go anywhere; you weren't ready to go out in public by yourself yet. he wasn't excited for you, who would be after you confessed your hesitance on going anywhere.

"i'm heading out now, spence," you walked out of your bedroom and into the kitchen where spencer was standing, waiting for you to get ready.

"al-alright," he nodded before turning towards you. "you look... you look beautiful, y/n," he sighed, making you blush lightly.

"thank you," you went to give him a hug, wrapping your arms around his torso. "for everything," you kissed his cheek before pulling away. "i don't think it'll be that long, i hope it's not that long," you chuckled before continuing, "so i'll see you after?"

"uhm, yea," he agreed. "i'll see you later."

you sighed before grabbing your keys and leaving, driving to the restaurant penny had told you to go to. it had only been two months since your abduction. you hadn't been anywhere without someone with you, most of the time it was spencer. you parked the car, grabbing your purse from the passenger seat and placing it in your lap.

you shouldn't have come. you shouldn't have done anything. you should've stayed with spencer. you should've let him know how you felt. you should've...

you felt tears well in your eyes before you pushed those thoughts down. you took a deep breath to compose yourself before you walked into the restaurant. you were led to the table noah miller would be at by the host.

"hi," noah greeted you.

"hi," you tried your best to muster up a smile as you sat down.

"uhm, penelope mentioned how beautiful you were, but i think it was severe underkill," he chuckled,

"oh, wow, thank you," you smiled. "you look pretty great yourself," you motioned. there was a moment of unsettling silence before you continued, "i haven't been out in a while. so, be patient with me tonight."

"sam mentioned that you went through something... an abduction, i believe?" you nodded your head. "that is beyond cool. do you... do you have any scars?" his eyes widened at the thought.

"ex-excuse me?" you furrowed your brows at the question.

"do you have any scars from the abduction?" he asked once more as if he didn't sense what was wrong with it in the first place.

"you... you're seriously asking to see the scars from when i was almost killed?" you scoffed before leaning back, crossing your arms over your chest defensively.

"are those your scars?" he awed as he pointed towards your arms, the sleeves had ridden up on your skin.

"what the hell is wrong with you?" you jerked your sleeves down once more before you stood up and grabbed your purse. "i hope you rot in hell you freak."

you ran out to your car before calling spencer, tears already streaming down your face as you locked your car door.

"spencer reid," he answered the phone.

"spence?" you sniffled, wiping your nose.

"y/n? what is it? what happened?" he rose from his spot on his couch, shutting his book worriedly.

"i just... the date it - i need you, spencer," you cried out once more.

"do you need me to pick you up or are you alright to drive to my place?"

"i-i can drive," you replied as you wiped your tears.

"alright," he said. "i'll be waiting. should i stay on the phone with you as you drive? you could put me on speaker?"

"yea-yes, please," you answered before putting the phone on speaker.

you drove there as he read his book to you. his voice calmed you down a bit... only a little bit. not as much as his touch would. so, you sped there as fast you could without getting pulled over.

once you knocked on his door it opened in a matter of milliseconds. spencer's arms went around your waist as yours went around his neck, pulling him even closer to your body. your sobs rang through spencer's skin as he rubbed circles into your back, walking the two of you inside his apartment before he closed the door.

"what happened?" spencer asked as you curled into him whilst sitting on the couch.

"the guy wanted to see the scars," you sniffled. "when i got upset he saw them because my sleeves rolled up and well... the rest is history," you chuckled humorlessly.

"he really...?" spencer leaned back to look you in the eyes.

"yea... i know," you rolled you eyes.

"well whoever that guy is sucks. he doesn't deserve you," he twirled your hair in his fingers before continuing. "would you want to talk about it?"

"mm-mm," you shook your head. "not yet. i'm not ready."

and then it was more than abundantly clear. you might not ever be ready to tell him.

taglist:

@averyhotchner

@greenprisca

@muffin-cup

@spenxerslut

if you’d like to be added to the taglist, please don’t hesitate to message me or leave a comment!

#spencer reid angst #angst #spencer x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #doctor reid

[stockholmdolly]

EASY PREY (BEWARE OF THE LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD) 11

Pairings: Brock Rumlow x Bucky Barnes hahaha not really, just them being good bros

Warnings: None in this chapter, just Bucky and Rumlow being amazing  and hardworking human beings. 

Word count: 2,204

Author’s note: Hello fanfiction world, it is me! Stockholm Dolly. Chapter 11, Boyd returns, he’s my favourite character rn hahaha I love him, even if I can’t really understand him most of the time, but it turns really helpful at playing detective. Bucky’s brain finally starts working and maybe in the next chapters we figure it out who’s he going to call. Happy reading...😈

CHAPTER 11/26 JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES / BROCK RUMLOW

 BROCK RUMLOW’S POV

You might choose to believe this, you might choose not to. For sure, this part is too fanciful, perhaps too magical, for any FBI field report.

Sometimes, and it used to be more frequent, I like to disappear. Say a meeting ended earlier than expected, and I wasn’t required to be anywhere at the moment. I could call, say the office, say my wife. But perhaps, I might figure, I could take this gift of stolen time and slip away down a cobblestone alley and into a little Italian restaurant I know has been there forever. If, for example, this early-ending meeting were in Boston, that restaurant might be called Marliaves, set on a hill on the edge of Downtown Crossing. I think it’s been there since they invented bricks.

Perhaps I might coil tight in a black booth, my cell phone at my hip on the seat, untouched. The waitress would bring me a menu, but I wouldn’t need it, for who would need to scour such a pedestrian item in stolen time. I am free here, untethered, and my divinity in this moment gives me a clarity as to a simple desire. “I’ll have the gnocchi al dente and a Coke, please.” The waitress soft shoes away to summon from some suspended place, my hot plate.

I love this feeling, no one in the whole world who might want to find me knows where I am in this very second. I am powerful. I command the world. No one can say I can’t be here, for even I had not intended it. This gift, this free time. I might fall into a void between the universe’s theoretical strings and remain forever in a gravity-defying pit.

I’d learned the power of hiding at age thirteen, but when I have these stolen moments of hidden peace, I surely don’t allow my mind to wander to those wretched memories, nor the wretched day that shaped my whole life, my career. So, we won’t go there even now—now when I tell you of my blessed stolen moments.

Sure, I’d love Syn to be with me in these times of hiding, but that would be impossible. They’re never planned, and she’s busy on some tour, I’m sure. And no one is missing me anyway. I suppose I could have taken on more cases, jumped ahead with other work, called my mother, a friend, finished some nagging errand. Or, maybe all of those things would never get done anyway had I been struck by a bus after the meeting; but since I wasn’t struck by a bus, I must be on borrowed time, gravy time, extra-frosting time. So I won’t call and I won’t work. I’ll just sit here with my pasta and my soda and I’ll stare into the restaurant’s shadows or linger, listening to the couple in love in the next booth.

At the end of my life, I’d like to splice together all of these moments into one reel. I’m sure if I did, the splicing would reveal that one stolen moment was no different from the last or the next and so on, because I swear every time this happens, it’s the same place mentally, just me, myself, sitting here smiling at the freedom of living in this exact moment and not one soul changing that perspective. Could be Marliaves, could be the reservoir in Manchester, New Hampshire, my hotel bed in Atlanta, the streets of Soho, or the park in Kentucky with a view of one brown horse and one tan horse. Always the same place for me: internal peace.

Of course, I can acquire this feeling of peace because I’m not on the run. I don’t need to hide from anyone, except myself, except dire memories. If I were on the run, well, that would be a different story. Or, if I had something truly awful to hide, then in that case, I’m sure I wouldn’t be sitting all sedate in some restaurant, ordering up anything, let alone al dente.

In my line of work, I’ve found there is a spectrum of criminals. In one extreme, there is the mastermind megalomaniac who leaves nothing to chance, no fingerprint stains, no tire treads, no strand of hair, no footprints. No witnesses. No accomplices. No nothing leading to nothing. In the other extreme, there are the bungling fools who might as well broadcast their crime in real time. In between, you have your garden-variety knuckleheads, who get a lot right, but get some critical pieces wrong, and on these, we pounce.

In the Tery S. Rodriguez case, what with the information Boyd called with, we had a bonafide extremist on our hands, of the bungling kind. And so, this is the part I bring you to, the part you might choose to believe, or choose to dismiss. Keep in mind, reality is often stranger than fiction, and so while you might be inclined to think the following impossible, it might serve to remind that some investigations are indeed solved. Whether the result is positive or negative is irrelevant to the fact of solving—also, the impression of positive or negative is, of course, subjective.

-  Mr. Rumlow, you ain’t gonna believe what I got to tell you, Boyd said.

There I was standing outside Lou Mitchell’s in Chicago’s loop, having left Barnes to do his bidding on my breakfast plate.

-  Yeah, what’s up, Boyd?”

-  You ain’t never gonna believe this, Mr. Rumlow. Hardly believe it myself. Ah shit…

Silence.

-  I got to call you back, he said and hung up.

As you already know, I went back into Lou Mitchell’s and found Barnes eating my toast. After the whole ordeal with Big Stan, and Barnes and I had walked to the park, Boyd called again.

-  Mr. Rumlow, I’m so sorry. So sorry to have hung up. You ain’t gonna believe this.

-  Go on, Boyd, I got all day.

I didn’t really have all day, but I could probably listen to the sweet whistle in that chicken-farmer’s voice for hours. Sort of reminded me of my grandpa, before everything went to hell.

-  Mr. Rumlow, I’m standing in my cousin Bobby’s kitchen outside Warsaw, Indiana. I suggest you get on down here.

Boyd proceeded to tell me he had driven about an hour from his home to Warsaw, Indiana, to pick up some specialty feed for his chickens. “I tell you, had the hood a’ my car not blown up cuz the latch broke, I mighta never been able to give you this information. God, He bless me when he broke the hood of my car.

-  Mr. Rumlow, I know the only thing, other than a new latch, that was gonna help me get my feed home before the rain hit—I got it piled up in the back bed and have no tarps on me—was to go on inta’ a hardware store and get me a good roll a’ Gorilla tape to hold the lid on my engine. That stuff’ll hold a moose to a tree. So, there I am, minding my own damn business like any good Christian son at the town hardware, and holo, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Here he was, Mr. Rumlow, there was my van buyer, Steve Rogers, standing in line.”

-  Did he see you?

-  No, Mr. Rumlow, no sir, not a wink. I was behind him, and he was too bugged out to notice no one. In fact, the clerk had to say, ‘scuce me’ about three times before he moved ahead in line. Man was far off to some other place in his mind. But wait, okay. Cuz there’s more, uh-huh.

-  Go on, Boyd. Go on. But wait, when was this?

-  Just ‘bout hour-ana-half ago. Right after he paid and left, I threw a twenty on tha’ counta’, told ‘em to keep tha’ change, hurried out, taped my lid up quick, watched him drive away in my van, and drove myself to a drug store I know down the road. It has a pay phone. That’s when I called you first. I walk around with your card now, and I’m so glad I do. Anyway, listen, I had ta hang up cuz, guess what, here comes your man, again. He’d parked on the otha’ side of the building and he was going in-ta the pharmacy. It’s one a those old-school pharmacies, Mr. Rumlow. They just sell the prescriptions. No food section. No big Pampers section. Can’t find out what was his prescription? Maybe don’t need to though, cuz listen.”

-  Wait, wait. Did he see you at the payphone?

-  Ain’t no way. He didn’t see me there and he didn’t see me at the hardware store neither. I stayed a good distance behind because I knew you’d want me to, Mr. Rumlow. Wouldn’ta done you no good he saw me see him. He mighta flee, right? At the hardware store, I know he ain’t seen me ‘cuz I stood low and stayed behind a big ol’ boy in a red-and-black hunter’s jacket. So, your man there, he was buying duct tape and also a shovel, and a roll a’ tarp too. That’s concerning ain’t it, Mr. Rumlow?

-  A bit, Boyd. And you say he didn’t see you at the pharmacy either? Did you see him come out of the pharmacy?

-  No sir, I took off. Drove around, looking for another pay phone. I surely didn’t want him seeing me. I shoulda followed him, you think, don’t you? I’m so sorry. I jus’ didn’t want him to see me. But wait, wait, there’s more.

-  Go on, I said and starting thinking, pink bear.

-  So, I’m driving around looking for another pay phone and damn I tell you, pay phones are harder ta’ find than you think, Mr. Rumlow. Anyway, I suddenly rememba my cousin Bobby. I mentioned him to ya, yeah, his boy play for Indiana University, right, you rememba? You asked about the Hoosier plates?

-  Yes, Boyd, I remember. Go on, please.

-  So, I rememba Cousin Bobby, he lives ‘bout half-an-hour from the downtown in another town, takes so long cuza the dirt road and all and he got a big ol’ cow farm. I was thinkin’ I’d drive on into Cousin Bobby’s to use his phone, plus he’d let me park in his tractor barn to cover up my feed ‘fore tha’ rain hit.

-  So, there I finally get, right on into Cousin Bobby’s, and out he come, smiling his fat face farmer smile, and he says the strangest thing.

-  What’s that?

-  He goes, ‘Damn Boyd, I was just about ta’ call ya. I just got back from checking the outfield, past the ridge, and saw your van parked on the outskirts of the old school’s field, under a willow tree. Why’d you leave it there?’ 

-  I didn’t believe him until he took me up there. And damn, Mr. Rumlow, there’s my white van, Hoosier plates still on her front and her back. I told Bobby we had to creep back real slow, backwards and all, to make sure ain’t no one saw us. And that’s exactly what we did. Two grown men walking backwards through the pasture. We sittin’ in Bobby’s kitchen right now. We shakin’, Mr. Rumlow. We damn shakin’ in our bones. Bobby’s got a couple-a rifles, and we can go take care a’ this for ya, if ya want. We ain’t called the local boys yet, we want to do whatever you need, Mr. Rumlow.

-  Just sit tight. Give me your address. I’ll handle this. We’ll be right there. Do not move from Bobby’s kitchen.

That damn Rogers was out doing his errands all peaceful, as if free, as if on stolen time. Now we’d know whatever he bought at the hardware store and the pharmacy and we’d have all of the video evidence in those places and likely in between. Now we had his van, and I was pretty damn sure he was hiding out near the old school house Boyd so casually mentioned. We had him dead-to-rights. Well, I thought we had him dead-to-rights.

BUCKY’S POV

While Rumlow was talking to our savior Boyd, I was thinking about Steve and Natasha, I still couldn’t believe what they were doing. And I couldn’t understand their motives either, of course they wanted children since forever, but kidnap pregnant girls? They are loved by the world; they could go to an orphanage and ask for all the kids and I’m 1000% sure they would give them to them.

So, this was something else, I started to match the profiles with the last 4 girls found in the ditch, that’s when everything clicks. They were all interns or visited at the Stark Tower at some point, for fucks sake, how the hell I didn’t see this before. That means they should be incredible smart like my Y/N, so this definitely is something more than just wanting to have babies. And I know just the woman to figuring this out…

 Taglist: @cjand10​

#dark steve rogers #dark steve x reader #dark steve x you #dark steve rogers x reader #dark avengers #dark!steve x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!natasha romanoff x reader #dark!avengers #steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x you #steve rogers x natasha romanoff #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #Bucky Barnes x female reader #brock rumlow #bucky barnes x brock rumlow

[phantaloon-books]

Alright I got a couple comments asking for a continuation so here's part 2 of neil finding out the feds were onto smth when they recommended witness protection program

part 1

(Also thank you so much, I genuinely didn't expect such a good reception, everything I write is purely self indulgent)

Andrew is gonna fucking lose it. It's been over three weeks and not a single word from Neil fucking Josten. He's never hated him more, and this time he means it when he says hate. Actually he's not sure he hates himself or Neil more, but he feels hatred and rage and that's what matters. But of course the rabbit just left. Once a rabbit, always a rabbit.

He wanted so desperately to believe that, that Neil chose to run, that he chose to leave him them and keep running because that's what he knows best. Even if believing Neil chose to leave hurts him more than he'll ever admit, it's the best thing to believe. It's best to believe that Neil left than to believe something happened. It's best to believe Neil grew tired and bored of him them than to listen to the worry and dread Andrew's been feeling for months. It's best to believe Neil didn't want him than to let himself think of worst case scenarios.

But he can't make himself think that Neil left willingly and because he wanted to (and not it's not because he wants to believe that Neil wouldn't leave him). Neil would never run without his things, not without his stupid binder and money and contacts, not without clothes or any resources. If he ran away he would do it properly. He wouldn't leave with running clothes and his stupid flip phone. And most importantly Andrew knows that Neil has been restless lately. He's seen the way Neil checks every corner or every place, observes the people, looks for threats. He'd left those habits behind, so something has to have happened. Neil didn't just leave him.

The best thing is the other foxes aren't convinced Neil would run either. He had no one to run from, and he had a family now. And even if he was feeling overwhelmed or anxious, he would have come back. He wouldn't have taken three weeks. So they know, they know, Neil didn't leave because he wanted or needed to. And they're all anxious as hell about that bc if he didn't leave where is he?

They narrow it down eventually, and conclude that he got in a fight and is dead in a ditch somewhere, he had an accident in a coma in a hospital somewhere, he somehow got lost and/or lost his memory, someone killed him accidentally or not and his body is buried somewhere far away, or he's been taken. And Andrew cannot take the stress that he doesn't know where the fuck Neil is any longer.

He almost killed Kevin and several federal agents when Neil went missing for a few hours. This time, he hasn't tried to kill anyone yet but that hasn't stopped him from tearing every dorm apart and the stadium and the police station and the hospital and getting in fights with the FBI. He's desperate enough that he called Browning, hell, he's desperate enough that he contacted the Moriyamas, which wasn't a pleasant experience, but Ichirou had promised Neil protection and this definitely called for mafia intervention. So far neither the FBI or the Moriyamas had helped - yes they had, they informed him regularly that they were looking for Neil, but they had nothing, no clues no trails, and Andrew couldn't believe their incompetence, like for fucks sake the Moriyamas were yakuza, they ought to know what could have happened to one of their most valuable assets. And anyway if he ran, and wasn't taken, they for sure would be behind him, looking to kill him of course, but they still couldn't find him.

Andrew hasn't tried to kill anyone yet but he will soon if he doesn't find Neil, and he's sure he will start with himself. He can't remember the last time he slept or ate well, or went to exy practice, but he doesn't care. He can't care until he knows something. The lack of knowledge is driving him crazy. At this point knowing that Neil is dead and has been rotting in the countryside of Poland would be better than not knowing anything.

He hates this so much. He hates Neil for disappearing. He hates whoever went and got him. He hates the Moriyamas for not being able to find him and not keeping him safe in the first place. He hates himself for becoming so attached. He should have known better. He knew better. He knew it was a bad idea to feel all the things he feels for Neil, especially because it's Neil, the unpredictable rabbit. But he fell for the fake hope that they would make it, that he wouldn't be hurt again, that Neil would stay. He knew letting someone in again could kill him. He knows that if they don't find him, it will. He can't keep going like this. He was stupid enough to feel hopeful, but he won't be able to live once the hope dies.

He's laying in Neil's bed. He knows it's pathetic, but frankly he doesn't care. Everyday is worse than the last one. He's slipping and when he falls it's game over, he's going to make sure of that. If Neil genuinely cared, he'd be pissed at Andrew for even thinking about this. No he'd be upset, but not pissed, about the fact that he's considering taking his life over this. But he opened the door to feelings, and he won't be able to cope with them and he won't be able to close that door again. He's giving up.

Faint buzzing interrumps his thoughts. Someone's calling him. He couldn't stomach the runaway song that matched with Neil's but he couldn't stomach changing it either, so he leaves in on vibrate now. He looks at his screen. It's an unknown number. Most likely the FBI or the Moriyamas or a random police station ready to take him out of his misery and just tell him they found Neil's body. The code says it's from Minnesota. He considers not answering, but he might as well get over it.

He flips the phone open, "I only care about this if you are from the FBI or the literal mafia, so if you aren't from either, feel free to hang up." The other line stays silent for a few seconds, but when he looks at his phone, it's still going. The person didn't hang up. He doesn't have the patience for this. "I'm just gonna hang up then-"

"Andrew, wait." It's barely a hesitant whisper. The voice is absolutely shattered, rough and hoarse and very painful-sounding. There's wheezing too and labored breaths. But god. No matter how wrecked he sounds, he'd recognize that voice anywhere. In half a second he's up and falling from the bed in his haste, alert at last. He can't believe it. He wants to but he doesn't want to believe the call is real.

"Neil? Neil is that you?" He hates how vulnerable he sounds, but the thought dies quickly. There's no way, no way this is real. A sob breaks through the line, and oh it sounds so full of pain and fear.

"Andrew, I-I need you to stay safe. I don't know if they're coming for you, for the foxes. I need you to find a place where you're safe. Call Browning or Ich- the little Lord and make sure they can protect you guys for a while."

Okay that's definitely Neil even if he didn't answer the question. And Andrew's heart is going a thousand miles an hour, he doesn't feel his body anymore.

"Neil where are you? I'm coming to get you, I'll call Browning but where are you?"

"'Drew," another sob, and this one manages to break Andrew's walls more than than the whispered 'Drew', "promise me you'll stay safe, don't come looking for me, you can't take them down, please don't come looking for me."

The exhaustion and terror in his voice doesn't sit well with Andrew. The Neil he knows is not this. "For fucks sake Neil just tell me where in Minnesota you are, I'm coming to get you."

"No- no you're not, I'm not calling you because I want you to come. I just need you to promise you'll be safe."

"Neil who took you? Where are you? I can send the FBI or the japanese shits over, I swear to god I can send them to come get you if you just tell me where you are and who took you. I'll - I'll try my best to keep the others safe, but who took you?"

"I'm sorry, Andrew, I- I didn't mean to, please believe I didn't mean to leave, they- some of the Butcher's pals found me, I'm so sorry- I put all of you in danger again."

"Okay, that's something we can work with, now where are you Neil?"

"Andrew-" his breath hitches, he gasps and whimpers, "I'm so sorry, I have to go, I need to leave Andrew. Please stay safe. Look I- I love you okay? I'm sorry I didn't say it earlier."

"Neil wait don't hang up-"

And the line goes dead.

The world is falling apart, collapsing all around Andrew. He's numb but he feels encompassing terror. He can't feel a thing, he can't think. He was so close. It feels like Neil just slipped past his fingers, like he just let go of Neil and let him fall to the darkness. He thinks he may be falling too. He needs to call Browning. He does it instinctively, he doesn't register he has his phone to his ear until the FBI agents voice is calling to him. He also goes with what he's gonna say with the same instinct he pulled in Baltimore, knowing he can't mention certain mafia.

"Neil just called me, I have no idea from where, I have no idea how he got a hold of me, he didn't say a thing, he refused to say a thing other than we're in danger, the foxes, and that whoever took him will come for us- oh and apparently it's someone involved with the Butcher."

How he managed to be as apathetic and unattached to everything he said is beyond him. But whatever he says and whatever Browning says, FBI agents are now guarding them in the locker room of the Foxhole Court, with mattresses and mats laid down on the floor. and he doesn't know how they got here and he's cuffed all over again, but this time to Renee even if he doesn't remember being violent. Even the stupid rookies are here, looking extremely panicked and terrified despite most of them not giving a fuck that Neil was gone just hours ago. The other foxes - Neil's family - are pressing Andrew for answers, but he can't deal with anything at the moment.

He needs to call Ichirou too. That's the call that matters, because that's the call that can bring Neil home because he can't do that himself while cuffed to Renee and being guarded by the fucking FBI. He somehow convinces the agent to let him make a call, to his therapist he says, to grant him privacy even if that's utter bullshit. He's dragging Renee into the eye of the storm but oh well, why did they cuff him to her in the first place, it's not his fault. He calls the Moriyama representative he's been dealing with and thank Renee's god the woman answers.

"I need to talk to- to Lord Ichirou, it's about Neil Josten's whereabouts, I got important information about him." He can feel both the condescension from the other end of the line and poorly veiled shock from Renee. "I know where he is, I know about who's got him, I need to talk to Lord Moriyama."

He isn't sure how he managed it. He doesn't know how he convinced them to let them talk to their mafia boss, or how he's able to keep his cool for long enough to actually talk to the man himself. He thinks having Renee there, who asks no questions and keeps her hand on top of Andrew's with no hesitation, is part of the solution but he's not admitting that. Either or, he talks to Ichirou (he can't deny he's not terrified of messing up with the man who keeps Neil alive, but he's not admitting that either), reminds him of how Neil is important to the Moriyamas, both as an exy player and as a Wesninski, and how Neil, Kevin and Jean are loyal to the Moriyamas, hints at how Ichirou promised protection. He has perfect memory, but he will never remember how he convinced Ichirou Moriyama to send people to Minnesota and look for him all over the state and surrounding states, all he knows is that Ichirou stuck to his promise, all is good, he didn't fuck up.

Weeks pass again, nothing happens. There's no news from the Moriyamas, the FBI keeps telling him they're doing what they can. Andrew is done. No one came looking for them at least, which is nice bc they didn't die but it doesn't feel worth it when Neil wasn't back. He feels stupid for hoping he would come back safe and alive. The Moriyamas might as well have killed him for being such an inconvenience. Things are going to hell. Andrew was an idiot for falling so hard for Neil Josten. It was a mistake. He should have known better.

His anger is gone, and numbness has settled. It was becoming a habit for him to remain lying down most of the day. It was also becoming a habit for the foxes to take care of him when he did this. He can't even bother to shower if someone doesn't remind him every day, or eat, or drink water for that matter. He's a mess and he would be incredibly embarrassed if he cared a little, but he's slipping and he doesn't mind falling. Nothing is fine. Until it is.

It comes in the form of a text one morning, while he's lying on the couch in the living room. An unknown number again, New York code, and it only reads, "Threat has been dealt with - I". And what the fuck does that mean. It tells him absolutely nothing. If Ichirou bothered to text him he could at least be clear as to what the fuck that meant. Was Neil even alive? There is a soft knock at the door. Of course, someone bothers him when no other fox is at the dorm. They couldn't ditch every class to make sure Andrew didn't combust spontaneously.

He truly doesn't want to get up. He doesn't want to go answer the door. It's too much a bother. If it's someone important they'll either knock again aor shout for him to open up. He curls up in bed. He honestly wants to disappear. There's another knock, a little harder than the first. But there's no voice, no demand, no nothing. Maybe it's a Moriyama. Maybe he'll feel so disrespected or whatever he's gonna barge in and end his misery. Whatever. "Fuck off", he shouts from the couch, hoping for the best. There's another knock, for fuck's sake, can they just walk in already? Another, and he's up. Pissed and going for the door.

"Fucking hell, what do you want?" His anger is back with a passion, and he's practically stomping to the door, throwing it wide open, "Just barge through the fucking door, and get it over with-"

He has to stop exploding when people don't answer to him right away. Maybe he should work on his patience. Because frankly it has been working against him at the worst times. No it's not his fault. It's the idiot's fault for appearing at out nowhere and stealing his breath away. Everything is Neil Josten's fault.

"Hey Drew," said idiot's voice is impossibly more hoarse than when he called him before. Andrew can't tell if his heart is beating too fast or not at all. He thought he was a mess, but Neil looks like he's been through hell and back. Well, he's been through hell and back too many times before, but he's never looked this bad, and he was a mess after Evermore. His face is beaten so badly, so swollen, if he didn't know him and those stupidly blue eyes so well. Even his eyes are different, there's no spark, they're dull and hazy. He's wearing a large hoodie and sweatpants, so Andrew can't see the damage beyon his face, but at least his hands remain okay, there's no new damage. "Looks like I still have it in me to leave you speechless, huh."

Andrew takes a deep breath and he sighs. And his heart breaks. Neil. Neil. Neil is here. Andrew wants to craddle him and hold him and never let him go again. He doesn't care if it's soft, Neil is here. He raises his hands, frames Neil's face like he has before. He presses a hand to Neil's neck, looking for a pulse, and he finds it. He's alive.

"Neil," he breathes, and he feels. He feels. "You're alive, I thought, you-"

They're both silent. Andrew doesn't notice when Neil raises his hands, framing his own face. They've been here before.

"I'm not leaving you, I promised right? You're not getting rid of me that easily. "

He hates feeling this much, "You've got some explaining to do, but- it can wait."

"That's good yeah, because I'm not sure how much longer I can remain conscious and the Moriyamas weren't the best at patching everything up, so I'd really appreciate it if you call Abby."

He doesn't trust himself to open his mouth, so he guides Neil inside, holding on to his hand like a tether. Neil deflates, he grimaces as Andrew helps him to the couch. He's obviously hiding something below the clothes. Andrew stands to call Abby, but Neil grips his hand tightly. When Andrew looks up, he sees the fear and exhaustion he heard on the call weeks ago. Neil isn't able to keep up the act of being okay for long.

"Stay, pl- just," he looks away, and Andrew doesn't know how to feel about the pause, he didn't say the word, "can you stay?"

And he does. Things aren't fine. Neil is a mess. So is Andrew. They have to work through stuff. Andrew clearly has to work on the apparent dependancy issues. But they'll have time now. Neil is safe. He's alive and safe. He lost consciousness not long after he sat down, but Abby, Wymack and the foxes are on their way. They're not fine. But Neil is lying next to him, and he isn't gonna let him go again. They'll be fine.

#aftg #all for the game #tfc #the foxhole court #trk #the raven king #tkm #the king's men #neil josten #andrew minyard #andreil #nora sakavic #aftg fanfic #aftg headcanon #tfc fanfic #tfc headcanon #sorry this makes no sense and is repetitive asf but I paused in between and lowkey forgot where I was going #it's andrew's pov bc it was far easier than writing this from neil's #I could write it from neil's too if you want but idk #they're gonna be fine dw I told y'all neil would live #I couldn't kill him off just like that he just went through a tough time

[shemarmooresfedora]

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Warning: swearing

Masterlist

Chapter 1

“Thank you for agreeing to guest lecture this semester. My students are really looking forward to hearing stories from a real life FBI agent,” Professor Walker was giving Spencer a tour of Georgetown University.

Spencer had agreed to guest lecture once a week in Professor Walker’s Criminology course following the return of the very much alive Emily Prentiss to the BAU. Spencer had snapped quite a few times at his co-workers and was still adjusting to the sudden development so Hotch signed off on this as a little break for Spencer.

Professor Walker was explaining faculty parking when Spencer heard that voice. It was so nostalgic and comforting, filling him with a sense of warmth that he desperately craved. He thought he would never hear it again.

“My office hours are Tuesdays and Thursdays from three to six. Can you make the lab up one of those days?” the voice asked.

Spencer was desperately looking around, trying to find the owner of voice so he could prove it wasn’t all in his head and you were actually really here.

Then, Spencer saw you. You looked as gorgeous as ever. You were in a black pencil skirt and a dark green blouse with pale pink high heels which was a far cry from the crewnecks, leggings, and converse that Spencer had known you to wear most of the time in college. You looked very mature and that is not to say you didn’t seven years ago but you had this sense of confidence about you now.

“Okay perfect, see you then,” you hung up the phone and made eye contact with Spencer.

Your jaw went slack, eyes widening in what appeared to be horror, and you ceased all your movement.

“Dr. Reid? Do you have any questions?” Professor Walker asked, forcing Spencer’s gaze to drift back to him.

“Uh no, I-I’m all set,” Spencer stuttered.

In reality, he had not listened to a single word he had just said but he took the metro so he didn’t have to worry about faculty parking. He was still trying to process the brief eye contact he had just made with you and figure out if it was a dream or not.

“Perfect, then you are free to go! I’ll see you Monday morning, bright and early!” Professor Walker chuckled.

Spencer waved as Professor Walker strolled off to his office and his eyes scanned the campus for you once again. However, you were long gone. Maybe it was a figment of his imagination.

-

“What the fuck!” you whispered to yourself as you were in a full-on sprint in your heels.

You were trying to locate your car keys in your purse while maintaining your speed. You simply could not handle seeing him ever again. You didn’t even know why he was here. He chose the FBI over you so shouldn’t he be on a private jet or something flying across the country?

Once you made it to your car and slumped into the driver’s seat, you knew you were safe. He didn’t know what car you drove and there were way too many cars to go around looking in the windows of each one.

You took a moment to collect yourself before pulling out of the parking lot. You drove your normal route to Wesley Elementary School and turned off the ignition, hopping out the car.

The kindergarteners were all lined up in a not-so-straight line behind their teacher with their little coats and colorful backpacks on.

“Hi Mrs. Flynn!” you greeted, heading to the back of her line.

You saw a flash of purple before you felt two little arms wrapping around your knees.

“Mommy, I missed you so much,” she exclaimed as you picked her up.

“How much?” you asked.

“This much,” the girl outreached her arms, creating a gap the size of her arm span between them.

“I missed you even more than that, Josephine,” you kissed her cheek, carrying her back to the car.

You placed her in her car seat and got her all buckled up as she talked to you about her day.

Yes, Jo was Spencer’s, that much was obvious from her big brown eyes and curly brown hair. She looked just like her dad but he didn’t even know she existed.

You and Spencer had dated for a little over a year at Cal-Tech. He was already on his third PhD and you were in your second year of undergrad but you both were twenty.

You thought he was the one but looking back on it now, what did you know. You were young, dumb, and in love. As soon as he was recruited for the FBI, you were swiftly dumped as he gallivanted across the country to be a badass and save lives. Fuck Spencer Reid is all you could think as you moped around your apartment for the first two weeks, absolutely miserable.

Then, you realized your period was late and you were never late. When you found out you were pregnant, your friends and family were very supportive, your parents especially, they said they would support your decision either way.

You decided to keep the baby even though you were still very young. You knew it would be hard but you knew this was something you wanted. You knew ever since you were a child playing with baby dolls and then growing up and babysitting your neighbor’s kids that being a mom would make you happy.

You never reached out to Spencer though. He broke up with you and then moved across the country. You weren’t really up for a “hey listen, I know you live thousands of miles away now and don’t want anything to do with me anymore but I’m having your child” phone call so you simply never made it. Sure, some help may be nice but you had your parents. You certainly didn’t need any help from the asshole.

-

It had been hours since Spencer had seen Y/N but he still couldn’t wrap his head around it.

He went to his old dusty computer on his desk and typed in “Y/N Y/L/N”. He wasn’t proud of this but he wanted to know what you were up to.

He found your section on the Georgetown University website. You were an Associate Professor in biology. Spencer smiled, remembering all the night you would come over to his apartment with a bundle of flashcards and have him quiz you until you got every single one right.

Your instagram profile was private and Spencer didn’t even have an account to request to follow you on. Not that he would, an ex seeing you in public after seven years and then requesting to follow you on an account that he just made would definitely come off as creepy.

He could ask Penelope to do further digging but you weren’t a bad guy so that would be an invasion of your privacy and he didn’t really want to deal with all of Garcia’s questions.

Spencer sighed. He missed you. He thought about you very often. Spencer thought it would be selfish to keep you tied down to him when he wouldn’t be able to see you very often. He thought it would just make you miserable so he broke up with you in order to save you from the future pain. But it hurt him so much that he actually cried the entire plane ride to Virginia, the poor woman next to him handing him tissues occasionally. You were way out of his league to begin with, you would find someone new and better in no time, he thought.

In the seven years that had passed, he had a few occasional flings but never even close to what he had with you. You were his first love and undoubtedly his last because he had realized too late that you were it for him.

AO3 link

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer x reader #reid x reader #cm fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid

[babymetaldoll]

Spilling drinks on my settee (Spencer Reid/Reader)

Prompt: Start a story with "Can you keep a secret?"

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Reader 

Word count: 2,8K

Genre: Fluff

Warning: none 

Summary: Spencer is drunk with Morgan, finally sharing his feelings for Reader 

Part two

Masterlist

- “Can you keep a secret?”

Spencer was drunk. He leaned over Derek tapping on his shoulder a few times, making him chuckle at the scene. Dr. Reid was never the one to go out, less going to a bar and have a few too many drinks. Hell no! He could be the designated driver for life, if only he liked to drive. When he joined his BAU friends on their nights out, he would usually stick with a whisky that could last the whole night, or even left untouched at the table after he left. But that night, Spencer Walter Reid was drunk as a skunk. Wasted. And his best friend was the only witness.

- “Ok kid, tell me your secret”

- “I'm in love”- the words came like a slur out of his lips, the ones that curled into a guilty smile- Stupid, crazy, and irrevocably in love.

- “No shit!”- Derek pretended to be surprised, but he would have been a lousy profiler if he had missed the look on his best friend's face in the latest months. He nearly had hearts draw on his eyes, like a cartoon.

- “Yesss”- he made that "s" sound longer than it should have and closed his eyes for a few seconds- “Yes, I am.”

Morgan was still chuckling as he stared at the kid. He was still a kid for him, though he was already 30. He still acted like one, still shy, inexperienced. He had more attitude on his job now, on the field, with the unsubs, his pairs. But in his personal life... well, that was a whole different story.

- “Do you want to know who she is?”- Reid whispered and brought a finger to his lips.

- “But shhhh! you can't tell anyone 'cos it's a secret”- it was getting harder for Morgan to remain serious at that conversation, but he managed to keep his poker face and nodded at his friend.

- “But you can't tell Penelope 'cos she is going to tell the whole FBI! I'm sure!”

- “I won't tell her”

- “When I told her I was afraid of the dark, everybody ended up making fun of me...”

- “I swear I won't, kid”- Derek nodded and reassured his best friend he could trust him. He knew it was hard for Reid to talk about his feelings, that was probably why he had gotten that drunk to share them.

It had been unusual when Spencer walked over to Derek and asked if he wanted to get a drink with him after work. It was weirder when he said he wanted it to be just the two of them instead of the whole team, cos "he had some serious business" he wanted to share with him.

- “I'm in love with (Y/N)”- and yes, Derek was right. Spencer wanted to talk about the obvious.

The whole team knew he was in love with (Y/N). It was crystal clear. It was so obvious even Strauss had joked about it with Rossi once. Yes, Spencer's feelings were so clear and visible, everybody was aware of his love.

Everyone but (Y/N), apparently.

Derek knew ('cos it was a well-established fact that Penelope couldn't keep a secret) that (Y/N) was sure Spencer wasn't interested in her. Garcia had tried to convince her their genius was head over feet for her, but Reid had made an excellent job in looking uninterested in her.

Why? 'cos he was stupid, and it had nothing to do with his high IQ. It was simply 'cos he was scared. Petrified by the idea he could lose her, so he had made sure his actions were nothing but friendly with her. They were best friends ever since they met, over six years ago when they both had started in the BAU, but despite their feelings, none of them had acted on them.

- “No way!”- Derek pretended to be shocked, and Spencer was so drunk he didn't get Morgan's sarcasm. Instead, he nodded and sighed.

- “Yes, I love her... I am in love, I think about her all day long when I'm not with her, and when she is around, I can't stop staring, she is the sun and I orbit around her existence.”

Derek widened his eyes as he listened to the corniest words he had ever heard Spencer pronounce before.

- “And I need help, 'cos I don't know what to do about it”

- “I think you should tell her, kid”- but Spencer shook his head frantically as if his friend had asked him to do the worst thing he could have ever thought.

- “No man, really, you've got a pretty good chance there, and you don't wanna live in the regret of thinking what could have been if you had done anything”

- “No, Morgan, I can't, I can't do that”- Spencer nearly started shaking at his best friend's suggestion. The fact he was being honest about his feelings to his friend was one thing, but sharing those feelings with the woman of his dreams, that wasn't on his plans.

Why? He couldn't find a good reason to do it. As far as he knew, letting (Y/N) know he loved her as no one had ever loved her before, could only mean the end of their friendship. And Spencer could live having (Y/N) only as his friend for the rest of his life, though it would break his heart deeper and deeper every day. But he couldn't live not having her by his side. He knew he couldn't. And he was sure if he revealed his true feelings to her, she was going to leave his side and disappear, end their friendship, and ignore his existence for the rest of his life.

Yes, Spencer was being dramatic, but he was scared. His mind kept telling him as soon as he told her how much he loved her, (Y/N) was going to disappear from his life as fast as everyone he cared for had done before.

- “If you don't want to tell her, then what's your plan, kid?”- Morgan asked the one million dollar question. Spencer just stared at him and took a sip of his whiskey.

- “I don't know”

- “Shit!”- Derek nearly shouted- “That's the first time I ever hear you say such a thing! man!”

- “Shut up! I don't know why I'm telling you this, I knew you were gonna make fun of me”

Spencer rested his head on his arm on the table and closed his eyes.

- “I just thought 'cos you are so smooth with women, maybe you could help me”

- “I can help you, Reid, I can, you just have to be open to the idea of telling her how you feel”

- “How can I tell her? she is gonna hate me”

- “She won't!”- Morgan tapped on his friend's back again and tried to calm him down.

- “How do you know?! You have never been rejected by any woman ever since I met you!”- but it didn't work, mostly because there was nothing on earth that could calm Spencer down at that point.

- “I know she likes you”

- “Sure, right!”- Reid snorted and finished what was left in his glass- “I need another one.”

- “You need to slow down, maybe get some water and fresh air”- Morgan stopped him when he tried to get to the bar and pulled him back to his seat

- “No, no no, you don't get it, Morgan, she went on a date with some random guy from a dating website...”

And Morgan realized where his friend's fears were coming from.

- “She is looking for someone, and clearly that someone ain't me!”

- “Maybe she is looking for someone to stop thinking about you”- Spencer furrowed his brows at Derek's words and stared at his hands on the table for a moment.

- “Come on man! you have to give yourself some credit! you are smart, you are funny, she is always laughing when she is around you”

- “At me! laughing at me! everybody laughs at me!”- for someone so smart, Dr. Reid was acting like an ass.

- “With you! be real, she is the girl who laughs at your jokes, listens to your rambling for hours, and actually pays attention to what you say”- Reid nodded, thinking of the sound of her laughter- “And you two spend most of your weekends off together!”

- “Clearly, she doesn't want to do that anymore, if she is looking for guys on dating apps”- Reid sounded bitter and hurt, two things he had never been very good at dealing with.

- “Why don't you ask her?”- Derek knew what Spencer was going to answer at that, the same he had said when he told him to be honest with her about his feelings: "No way". But instead, he only got a deep silence back.

- “Reid?”

- “You know what? I'm gonna ask her”- he whispered and nodded at himself- “I wanna ask her if she doesn't want to spend time with me anymore”

Morgan widened his eyes in shock.

- “And I'm gonna ask her now!”

- “Wait, kid”- but this time, he couldn't stop him, Reid grabbed his sachet, his jacket and stormed out of the bar, stumbling against a few people on his way out, 'cos he was too drunk to walk straight.

- “Kid! come one, wait!”

Derek followed him as fast as he could and grabbed his arm as he walked to her house. (Y/N) lived a few blocks from the bar, Reid didn't need a cab to get there, and he decided to face her and ask her why she didn't want to spend time with him anymore.

Of course, that wasn't the reason (Y/N) had gone out on that date. She actually wanted to spend all of her free time with him, but Prentiss had her forced to go out after hearing she hadn't been out in at least two years. Two years without a date. Two years actually without sex. Emily nearly died at the news, she couldn't believe anyone could live like that, and so, she forced her friend out with some random guy from a website.

- “There's no way you are spending another Friday night on your own! you need to have fun!”

- “I'm not gonna spend Friday night on my own! Friday nights are board game nights with Reid”- Prentiss frowned and crossed her arms on her chest staring at (Y/N) pouting.

- “Whatever it is you are thinking, please don't say it”

- “Boardgames with Reid, please tell me that means he is fucking your brains off on his dining table on top of a monopoly board”- (Y/N) wished her friend was right, but no.

- “Actually... no, it's Jenga night”

- “You are so going out this weekend!”

And she did, not Friday night, but Saturday afternoon. And it had been one of the worst dates (Y/N) had ever been on. Just like she had said that day back in the office, the guy was cute but dumb. On his behalf, she was in love with Spencer Walter Reid, any guy on earth was going to look dumb compared to him. But to be honest, he wasn't really bright either. And (Y/N) wasn't into him at all. They had a coffee, went to see a movie, and called it the night.

Spencer had no idea about that date, she never wanted to tell him 'cos it meant nothing to her. But after hearing the story of the date earlier that day, Spencer was a mess. He didn't know what to think, and that was the reason he was out there, drunk, asking Derek for advice.

He had tried to avoid her for the rest of the afternoon, he was upset, and he knew he was going to be passive-aggressive if they shared any word - he couldn't help it even when he knew he didn't have to act that way- and so, he didn't look from his paperwork until it was time to leave.

It was a good thing they were swamped with work, and (Y/N) didn't notice her best friend was giving him the cold shoulder from a safe distance.

- “Reid, Reid, wait!”- Morgan grabbed his best friend's arm and stopped him in his tracks- “What are you doing? you can't talk to her like this!”

- “I want to know! I deserve to know!”

- “Kid, you are drunk, you are not thinking straight”

- “Or am I?”- Spencer was slurring and his eyes were half-closed. Still, he knew what he was doing. He was making a mistake on purpose 'cos at that point, he was desperate.

- “Come on man, you are not thinking this, (Y/N) never said she is going out 'cos she doesn't want to spend her time you with you, those are your insecurities talking”

- “If she didn't do it because of that, then why?”- but Morgan couldn't answer, not because he didn't know the answer, but because Reid's retchings forced him to help him and pull his scarf and sachet back as he started puking in the middle of the sidewalk.

- “I think I'm gonna take you home now, kid”

Spencer felt like shit. He wasn't only drunk, but also miserable. He hated getting intoxicated like his, but he had no idea what else to do. He was lost and scared and wretched. He thought talking with Derek was gonna help, but he didn't know what to expect from his friend anyway, the only advice he got from Morgan was sharing his feelings with (Y/N), but... Reid knew he wasn't doing that, not in this life. Not if it meant he could lose her.

- “What the hell is going on here?”- (Y/N)'s voice felt like cold water running down Spencer's spine. He paused his puking for a second to look at her, and kind of smiled.

- “Oh! hey Buttercup!”- and that was all he could say before he continued vomiting.

- “Derek?”- the woman was shocked, had Spencer just called her by a cute nickname? she had always done it with him, he was her honey bunny, but he had never done it before... and she loved it- “What the fuck?”

- “Hey pretty girl!”- Morgan did his best to play it cool, though he was also freaking out. He knew (Y/N) wasn't going to be happy to know he let Spencer get that drunk. He was aware it wasn't his fault (not completely), but he also knew she was going to blame him anyway.

- “Why is Spencer drunk and puking on the front steps of my building?”

- “There's a very logical explanation for this”- Derek tried to elaborate on that idea, but nothing came to his head.

- “We had a few drinks”- Reid whispered and sighed, after everything he had eaten and drank had left his stomach.

- “Did you know alcohol is essentially a toxin, and so it can easily upset your stomach and cause you to vomit, particularly if you consume too much?”

Of course, being drunk didn't stop Spencer from being himself. After all, he didn't know how to be anybody else.

- “And now I'm taking him home”- Derek wrapped an arm around his friend's shoulder and looked around, trying to find a cab.

- “But what are you guys doing here?”- (Y/N) wasn't getting what was going on, and she was honestly concerned Spencer was intoxicated. She knew he lived alone, no one was going to take care of him.

- “Honey, do you wanna come inside?”

- “Yes, yes, I do”- Reid didn't hesitate- “We should go inside”

- “No, you are drunk, you are going to your house”- Derek didn't let Spencer move, knowing he was too drunk to have a coherent conversation with (Y/N), and making his best to prevent him from making a huge mistake. 

Morgan knew she was in love with him, but he didn't want him to talk to her under the influence, he knew it was something Spencer was going to regret in the morning.

- “Are you sure you don't wanna let him stay here?”- the girl asked and bit her lip, worried- “He can stay on my couch...”

- “He's gonna be ok, I'll take care of him”- Morgan smiled at (Y/N) and nodded- “It's my fault he is like this, I'm not gonna let you clean this mess.”

Her lips curled into a short smile. She looked at her best friend wasted, puke on his pants and shoes. His hair was a mess - a mess she wanted to run her fingers through, even when he was intoxicated - and his brow eyes were glassy. Even drunk he was gorgeous.

- “I'll call you tomorrow, ok?”- she whispered and Spencer nodded- “And I'll see you at work... I'll bring aspirins and coffee”- he kept nodding, feeling sick at the stomach again.

Derek stopped a cab and helped Reid in as (Y/N) stood at the sidewalk staring at her friends leaving.

- “What the fuck just happened?”

- “You owe me, kid”- Reid heard those words as he hugged his pillow and closed his eyes. He was on his bed, still fully dressed. He had only managed to take out his satchel and his shoes.

- “I wanted to stay over”- he murmured, making Morgan chuckle. The kid was acting like one.

- “Believe me, you'll thank me in the morning”

#spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #matthew gray gubler fanfic #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid drunk #dr spencer reid #i love him so much it hurts #babymetaldoll writes

[gubes-sweaters]

Ralvez x Reader (polyam)

Authors Note: I know this is a bit short, but I wanted to get this out soon. I also have finals that I'm studying for so it's a but shorter than most of my fics. I also saw that a lot of people had only Ralvez x Reader smut and I know that's what most people probably want. I just wanted to do something different but I will write that in the near future. I also don't know a lot a lot about polyamory, but I did look up some stuff up just to get a sense of different dynamics. Also thanks to the anon who requested this.

Content Warning: past toxic relationship (very very brief mention), slight age gap

Word Count: 1.2k

Most people are lucky to have a significant other that is perfect for them, so I must have the world's best luck to not only have one but two seemingly perfect boyfriends. We've always worked in perfect harmony. I think Luke and Spencer always appreciated that they could come home to a house that's full of life and not some empty apartment. They get to come home to me and the dogs now. At first, it was Luke and Spencer, upon meeting they clicked instantly. When Spencer went to prison they were already together, but they didn't tell their team because it was so early. Luke had to take some pretty drastic measures to ensure Spencer's safety. It bonded them even more than before. They're so close and that's why when we all started dating I was nervous because they were already so close. I was scared of the same possible jealousy from a previous polyamorous relationship I was in years before. I was also worried because I was only twenty-eight, and they both have a bit on me when it comes to age. Despite all of the possible ways, this could go wrong it didn't. They both treat me with the utmost respect, and we are all truly equal.

Even though I met Luke casually first, Spencer and I are more similar. Luke likes to call us both dorks, yet he's still here putting up with our dorkiness. When I first met the boys they were going through a rough patch. Spencer was yet to be reinstated into the BAU, and he was still getting adjusted to life as it was before. Luke also had to take some time off to help out Spencer and that's when they told the team. Since they had so much free time Luke found a new hiking trail he took Roxy on every day that was pretty close to Spencer's apartment at the time.

I also happened to be new to the area and I decided to take my bloodhound Bruno for a run every Saturday and Sunday. That's where I first bumped into Luke, but it wouldn't be the last. I was running with Bruno trailing behind me only by a little bit. I remember the crisp cool air hitting my face as we both ran on the trail with leaves crunching under us. Once I got into a clearing I decided to take a quick drink break. When I stopped I looked over and saw Luke for the first time. Roxy wasn't far behind him, and she ran right past him. She then turned around stuck her but in the air with her front closer to the ground, and started wagging her tail like she was challenging him.

"Hey come over here show off!" He called out to her. Patting his leg and then adjusting his baseball cap.

I giggled at how he talked to his dog like you would your kid. He must've heard me because he turned to me and flashed a big smile.

"Hey, I'm Luke and this is Roxy," he said before he walked over to me and gestured towards Roxy.

"Hi, I'm (Y/N) and this is Bruno."

"Well, it's nice to meet you two," he says before bending down and scratching the top of my dog's head. Luke must've found a scratchy spot behind Bruno's ear because he started kicking his back leg relentlessly before falling onto his side like a goof. We both giggle, and we find ourselves walking together out to the end of the trail.

"So I haven't seen you here before granted I haven't been jogging here for long either."

"Oh yeah I just moved to the area for my new job and this is my first time going on this specific trail," I tell him.

"That's nice where do you work?"

"I work for CPS, how about you?"

"I work for the FBI the BAU to be specific," he says with a proud smile on his face.

That memory will live with me forever because this brings me to today. I'm in the kitchen cooking with Luke as we playfully bicker as to what we're going to make for dinner. Spencer quickly flips through all of the recipe books and reads off any dishes that we have ingredients for. Luke seemingly gets impatient after a while and decides to kick him out. He's definitely the most impatient and stubborn one out of all of us. I'm the most impulsive and Spencer is the healthy medium that keeps us from spiraling into chaos.

"You know what this is my kitchen. This is basically my personal space. (Y/N) you have your art room and Spencer you have your office. This is my space and now I hereby kick the peasants out." Luke jokingly says as the dogs, Spencer, and I all give him very unamused looks.

"Didn't you hear me?"

"Oh yeah trust me we all heard you. I'm just choosing to ignore you," I spit back and Spencer gets tired of our daily banter about dinner. I know we do this everyday but it never gets old how me and Luke bicker like an old married couple. I know deep down Luke finds it very amusing that I try and fight back a little bit even though it means I never win the argument in the end. I normally end up winning in a different type of way though.

Spencer walks off towards the living room and both of our dogs follow him clearly just as done with the playful arguing. I decide I'm going to start on dinner while Luke is distracted, but I don't get far because as I'm about to reach for the fridge he picks me up by my waist and throws me over his shoulder. I scream and shout as I wiggle my legs trying to escape in any sort of way. The dogs start barking and running around the house, and he carries me to the living room.

Spencer has a horrified look on his face. I can practically hear him thinking about all of the different possibilities of us breaking something. I scream and kick while laughing so hard that I start crying. Luke throws me onto the couch next to Spencer and lets me catch my breath. I start to catch my breath right before Spencer starts mercilessly tickling me. Roxy and Bruno become spectators in me getting tickle torture from now both of my boyfriends. The dogs start to jump on and off the couch as we all start shouting once more. We all take a moment for a breather once more and we all slump over one another on the couch.

"There have you learned your lesson to not mess with my kitchen space," Luke asks after we all stop for a breath.

"Yeah, but only if we can compromise and order pizza."

"Deal"

That's how I spent the rest of my night, with both of my boys and our dogs cuddled up on the couch. Eating pizza and arguing over what movie were going to watch. I swear the bickering really does never end.

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Taglist @rexorangecouny @haylaansmi

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[reidgraygubler]

a different type of high (spencer reid/reader) pt 5

Title: A Different Type of High (part five)

Request: no

Couple: spencer reid/gender-neutral!reader

Category: angst/fluff 

Content Warning: swearing, mentions of drug use/withdrawl, mentions of narcotics anonymous, anxiety, comments about someone’s weight (for like a quick second), mentions of smoking (cigarettes)

Word Count: 4,192

Summary: Reader goes to the BAU offices to meet the rest of the team, where they find out how Spencer met them. And reader and Emily have a heart to heart about their life.

A/N: i don’t have much to say here, other than thanks for reading this and loving it so much. I wasn’t expecting it to get as much attention as it’s getting! so thank you all for the love and support! check out my masterlist!

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{***}{***}{***}

A white and blue plastic tag was clipped to my nicest shirt. The word ‘VISITOR’ was printed in bright red at the bottom. I glanced at Spencer, feeling my anxiety start to rise in my stomach and up my throat. He seemed different here. I supposed he had to be different here because it was, indeed, his job. He had to pretend to not be a drug addict, and going through tough shit in life with some girl he met at NA. 

“Can we get lunch after?” I looked up at him as we stepped onto the elevator. Spencer was close beside me and it was nice having his presence so close to me. “Or coffee or something?” I looked back at the doors of the elevator. The lighting was more of a crispy white light, and I’m sure the rest of this building has this bright and blinding light.

“Of course… My treat since I brought you out here,” Spencer looked back down at me. He lifted an arm and wrapped it around back in a weird side hug. I swallowed and nodded before looking at the ground. 

“Do you know what we’re going to tell them?” I looked back up at him. And before he got the chance to answer, the elevator stopped and the doors slid open. I dropped my shoulders and looked at the now open doors.

Spencer looked down at me with an apologetic look in his eye. He slowly lifted his hand, offering it to me to hold as some sort of comfort. I stared at it for a moment before grasping it. I looked up at his face and forced a smile, silently telling him that we could move. The lobby was very open and large. A large glass window/door showed a series of desks and a few offices. And hallways led off of either side of the door to more offices. 

“We can stop at my desk first before we go see anyone,” Spencer whispered as we walked towards the doors. I looked back up at him and nodded. “Are you okay?” his voice filled with genuine worry.

“Yeah,” I mumbled and stayed close beside him. I wouldn’t dare tell him that I was scared shitless because then he’d feel bad for taking me here. And I don’t want him to feel bad because this was my decision to come here. He wanted me to meet his friends and family. In fact, I wanted to meet his friends and family. 

The expression on his face told me that he was worried. So, me trying to not make him feel bad wasn’t working out. I guess if I pretended like everything was okay and faked it all, he’d be okay. Spencer’s a smart man, he knows how to read people (I mean, that is basically his job). To be fair, I’ve never exactly imagined stepping foot in a government facility while I struggled with drugs. And, maybe the anxiety I was feeling wasn’t from meeting actual FBI agents, but instead, it was withdrawal...

“I didn’t know you played chess” I looked at the small chessboard on the desk we were walking towards. I only assumed it was his, it just had a vibe that suited him. “My mom showed me how to play when I was 12, but… It’s been a while since I last played,” I shrugged as I watched him collect a few things from his desk. They were a few beige/brown colored folders and books. I wondered what was in the folders, but it was probably classified information that a normal citizen, like me, wasn’t allowed to see.  

“Yeah, my mom taught me when I was younger. This was given to me by an old friend that I used to play with,” he looked at the set before moving a piece, “Keeps me busy when I’m bored,” he looked back at me and smiled. Something told me that he played fairly often when they weren’t working.

“You’ll have to reteach me how to play,” I shrugged, watching as he put everything in his bag. I looked around the office and noted just how many FBI agents were around, and I was starting to feel a certain anxiety rise in my stomach. No, no, this was definitely anxiety from being in an FBI facility, because of the illegally obtained drugs. Maybe a little bit of it was from the withdrawal.

“Okay, I’ll give you the tour then everyone should be up there,” he looked down at his watch before looking up at a room separated from the desks and other offices. 

“Sounds good,” I whispered. He walked beside me, bringing me back out of the room with the desks. A small shiver went through my body as we left the room. Spencer glanced down at me before wrapping an arm around my body, holding me close to him.

He brought me down one hall, showing me to the bathrooms and his friends' offices. There were a few other boring offices before he brought me down the opposing hall.  There wasn’t much other than more offices, but at the end of the hall, was another office owned by one of his friends. 

“She has other things to do so she won’t be joining us in the conference room,” Spencer spoke before knocking on the door. A faint, but cheery, ‘Come in’ came from the other side. Spencer looked back at me before opening up the door. “I promise you’ll like her,” he whispered before entering the room. I stayed close behind him, kinda hiding myself from the other human.

“What can I do ya for, Reid,” a woman asked, her tone filled with playful sarcasm. I bit back my lips and kept my eyes on my back. At least she sounded nice… “Wait, I thought you had the day off,” 

“Just came by to grab a few things. And I brought a special guest,” Spencer spoke as he reached behind him. I looked down at his hand before gently placing my hand in it. His fingers wrapped around mine and he carefully pulled me around to stand beside him. “This is Penelope Garcia,” he looked down at me with a smile. Penelope stood up from her chair to look at me. Spencer looked back at the woman and smiled before introducing me.

“Oh! You’re Reid’s friend! I’ve heard so much about you!” Penelope exclaimed as she pulled me into a hug. I froze as she embraced me, and I wanted nothing more than for Spencer to just pull me away from this situation. 

“You’ve… You’ve heard so much about me?” I asked, mostly to myself. What exactly did Spencer tell his friends about me? I guess I just assumed he didn’t talk about me at all. I looked up at Spencer with a raised eyebrow. I’m sure my expression told him that I was worried about everything she knows about me. 

“Goodness! You’re so skinny!” She added as she stepped away from me. I stared at her with wide eyes as I stepped further away from her and to stand closer to Spencer. Spencer looked at her with a raised eyebrow, silently telling her something. 

“Yeah it’s probably bc of my shitty life,” I thought to myself, “It’s nice meeting you,” I looked at her and smiled. My smile was very forced and felt very fake. Spencer knew that, and Penelope knew that. 

“If you ever need anything, anything at all, please feel free to call me. Even if it’s just to hang out,” she smiled at me. I swallowed roughly and nodded. “I know it can get pretty lonely while they’re working a case,” Penelope looked over at Spencer with a smile. I stared at her with wide eyes as I tried to figure this woman out.

“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” I nervously smile at her. Spencer glanced down at me as Penelope started talking about something. My anxiety was entirely too high to actually know what the fuck she was actually talking about. Could have been anything, honestly. But, from the basic gist that I was getting, she was just asking me a million questions and Spencer was answering them.  But, the one question we both avoided was ‘So, how did you meet our precious Boy Wonder?’, like we were in some sort of relationship, even though we were just really good friends. It still scared me though, mostly because we’ll have to answer that question in a matter of minutes.

“Well, I think the others are in the conference room,” Spencer looked down at me as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder. I looked up at him and faked a smile before looking over at Penelope. 

“It was nice meeting you, Penelope,” I made sure to keep my fake smile on my lips as I looked at her. She dropped her shoulders before going to give me another hug, which I accepted even though I didn’t really want to hug.

“It was so nice meeting you too! I hope we can hang out! And I hope I can see you again soon,” she placed her hands on my shoulders and smiled. I looked up at Spencer and smiled softly. The smile Penelope gave Spencer was awfully cheery smile before she actually allowed us to leave.  

I glanced up at Spencer once we were in the hallway and away from Penelope’s office. 

“I’m… I’m sorry for her,” he whispered as he grabbed my hand. I raised an eyebrow and shrugged.

“It’s okay, I think,” my voice was even lower than his. The uncertainty in my tone caused Spencer to look down at me. I didn’t want to tell him that Penelope was overwhelming, while we were still in the building with hundreds of FBI agents. “Just as long as everyone else is chill and they don’t ask a million questions,” I looked at him with a shy smile.

“They’ll probably ask a bunch of questions, but not a million miles an hour,” Spencer laughed lightly. The closer we got to the main office areas, the more anxious and nervous I got. I mean, I was already nervous, but this was just making it worse. It was incredibly hard not to go into autopilot mode and just fake my way through the whole interaction. But then they’d know something was wrong with me. I’m sure the pure exhaustion on my face, the skinniness of my body, and the weird mood I was already in were all good signs of something being wrong with me. Maybe they won’t question it all to my face? 

 “Do you know how you’ll answer the thousand dollar question? The one that I worry about the most?” I kept my voice low because I didn’t want a stray agent to hear my question and Spencer’s answer of ‘Oh, I was just going to tell them we met at narcotics anonymous,’. Because I just know he’s going to tell them that.

Unfortunately for me, Spencer didn’t actually answer my question. He just stayed quiet. Which caused me to have a mild heart attack as we walked back into the main office area and up a small staircase. It wasn’t until we were at a door that he answered me. 

He turned and faced me, a slight worried look in his eye. I couldn’t exactly tell what it was about though. So, that’s when my mind started running wild with all the worst possibilities. What if he already told them? And this isn’t him bringing me to meet his team, his friends, his family. No, this is him bringing me in, to go to jail. He’s been lying to me this whole time… Shit, fuck, shit… I don’t know what to do. 

Spencer must have seen something, my sudden fear, flash in my eyes. Part of me wanted to turn and run, but that’d cause too much of a scene. I’d probably have more Federal Agents on me than behind this stupid door. Whatever. 

My body partly turned, and I could feel my legs wanting to move, but I was honestly paralyzed. Spencer lifted a hand and rested it on my shoulder, stopping me from moving any further. His touch was very gentle, and I stopped all movement there. I nearly had to convince myself to actually breathe and blink. 

“It’s okay. There’s no reason to be scared…” he whispered as he pulled his hand from me. I swallowed roughly as I looked at him. My heart was going a million miles a second, and it just wouldn’t slow. “I was… I was just thinking… We should just tell them,” his voice, just like his touch, was gentle. Don’t fall for this. There’s still a chance that he was lying, that this was all a ruse. Well, wait… Why else would he want to tell them…

“You think… you… You want to tell them? Spencer, I,” I stopped talking and swallowed roughly, feeling my anxiety go higher and higher as the time passed, “I’ve barely been clean for 2 months, Spencer. You know I almost… And you… You want to tell them that you met someone at Narcotics Anonymous… Where people go… when they’re addicted to drugs… because you’re… I don’t think that’s a good-”

“Trust me. Can you do that? They won’t be mad. I think they’ll be happy that I have friends outside of work, and that I’m getting the help I need. And, that you’re getting the help you need. Two months is a big accomplishment. Even if you were clean for a day… That’d be a big accomplishment. But this is the first time you’ve made it this before,” Spencer whispered, a soothing and warm smile on his lips. I couldn’t help but return the smile, trying to hide my face from him as a very sudden embarrassment took over. “You don’t even have to tell them where we met. I’ll do it,” he whispered before grasping my hand again. I swallowed roughly and nodded.

“Okay, okay,” I looked down at the ground and nodded. 

“Ready?” his voice still a whisper. I looked up at him and nodded.

“Now or never, I suppose,” I shrugged. Spencer looked at my face, a worried crease in his eyebrows and in his eyes. He slowly turned to the door to open in it. It was taking everything in me to calm myself down, and to convince myself that I was not going to be arrested. 

Spencer pushed the door open and led me into the office. The least he could have done was warn about how many people would be on the other side of the door. I thought I was freaking out before. But standing in front of me were 4 other Federal Agents, and standing beside me was another. This was bad… This was really bad.

“This is Jennifer, Derek, and Aaron,” Spencer spoke, gesturing towards each person, “And of course you’ve met Emily,” he looked towards Emily. I smiled at each of them and nodded as Spencer gave them my name. “Where’s Gideon?” 

“Office. Should be up in a minute,” Aaron looked up from his folder and at Spencer and me, “It’s nice meeting you,” he looked right at me and nodded. I stared at him and nodded lightly.

“Where did you two meet,” Jennifer looked at me as she walked around the table to stand in front of me and Spencer. I froze like “I was in a freezer” froze. “A deer in headlights” froze. I slowly looked up at Spencer with my eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, where does my man, Spencer Reid, meet a person like you,” Derek then asked as he leaned against the table. His eyes looked up and down at me, checking me out… Or was he looking for something out of the ordinary? I could feel my breathing stop, yet simultaneously picking up. 

“I actually… We met at Narcotics Anonymous,” Spencer’s voice was real low, so quiet as he spoke. The air in the room got tense, so tense that it was suffocating. Everyone looked at Spencer, and just Spencer, with shock on their faces. For the first time since I entered this building, I felt invisible. Which, I guess, was good. But bad at the same time. Because, if I’m invisible to them right now, that means a high beam is on Spencer and shit could go down. 

“Reid,” Derek started but stopped when Spencer looked at him, silently telling him to stop. The grip Spencer had on my hand tightened, and it scared me. Mostly because he probably realized that this was a mistake and he’s scared now. Which, in turn, only scared me more.

“We’re both clean. I swear, we’re both clean,” he looked back at everyone. I knew he was lying, but I think that’s okay that I was the only one who knew he was lying. Granted, he was doing everything he could to get better, but… I understand being stressed, or anxious, or scared, and wanting to just turn to a weakness that could kill you. Last week, for instance… I got scared of nothing and almost made a big mistake. “I know I should have said something sooner, told you the truth instead of keeping it from you. But…”

“Spence,” Jennifer looked over at Spencer with wide eyes. She stepped away from the table before hugging him, hard. I looked at the pair hugging, wishing I had someone like that to hug me when they find out I’m going through a “rough time”. “I wish we knew… We could have… We would have helped,” she stepped away from him, resting her hands on his shoulders. I looked at her before looking down at the ground. 

“I’m… I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” I muttered before quickly rushing away from the others. More words would be exchanged between Spencer and his co-workers, his friends, his family. A family I don’t have and will probably never have. Whatever… Whatever, I’m happy he’ll have a great support system.

Once I found my way to the bathroom, I locked myself in a stall and could feel myself begin to hyperventilate. Tears were streaming down my cheeks, and my hands quickly went to my face to hide from the world. Although, I was hiding in my own world, behind the bathroom doors, in a small stall. 

My world wasn’t necessarily collapsing around me, but it felt like that. My head spun and my chest felt like it was going to explode. This sudden anxiety attack wasn’t something I was 100% expecting to happen. Although, the anxiety I was feeling beforehand was probably just building up, and I was just pushed to the edge before I broke down.

“Are you alright in here?” A familiar voice asked from outside the stall. I froze before wiping my nose. It was hard being silent, pretending like I didn’t exist. “I know you’re in here. You told us you were going to the bathroom, and I heard you sniffling just a moment ago,” she continued with a small chuckle. I looked down at the ground before standing up and pushing out of the stall. 

Emily was standing against the counter, leaning right in front of where the door was. She looked at me with a distressed look on her face. Shit, they got Spencer, and now they’re going to get me… I glanced at the door, before looking back at Emily. I could feel my body moving before I gave it the okay. My feet going quick towards the door.

“I’m not going to arrest you,” Emily quickly said as she stepped in front of me to stop me from running away, “And, we’re not going to arrest Spencer either,” she laughed lightly as she looked down at me. I looked up at her with wide eyes. “You can calm down. I promise. I’m just making sure you’re okay… You’d been in here for a while, and Spencer was worried about you,” she calmly explained as she rested a hand on my shoulder. I looked at her before nodding lightly. 

“You’re… You’re not just saying that?” I whispered, keeping my eyes on her. Because surely if I looked away from her, she’d do something I didn’t want happening. 

“I promise you, I’m not just saying that,” she reassured. I nodded and looked at the ground, “Are you okay?” She actually asked, pulling her hands away from my body.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I nodded as I cautiously looked up at her. She raised an eyebrow, silently telling me that she knew I was lying. I looked back at the ground and shrugged. “What?”

“I’ve been in this line of work long enough to know when people are lying… And to know when people are not okay,” she whispered, her voice so soft and gentle. She was genuinely concerned about me. I’ve only met her once before, and she seemed very nice. 

“I’m not okay,” I whispered as I looked at her. I don’t remember the last time I was honest with someone about my feelings. 90% of the time I lie at meetings because I don’t want a bunch of actual crackheads knowing that I’m depressed. “I think… I think seeing Spencer with everyone… And everyone being supportive…” I started but allowed my words to trail off, mostly because I didn’t really want to say I was jealous of my best friend. 

“Oh, I see,” Emily whispered as she leaned against the counter in front of me. I looked at her before looking down at the ground, then over at the door, then back at the ground. 

“Yeah, I’ve never really had a support system like he does, now, and…” I sighed deeply and looked up at her again, “I just have Spencer, and that’s a little hard when we’re both trying… To… Ya know,” I whispered and shrugged. 

“Well, I don’t know if Spencer told you this… But, any friend or family of his is a friend or family of the team. I know we’ve only met once before, but I’d gladly be a support team for you,” she whispered, and I honestly couldn’t tell if she was just telling me what I wanted to hear. But part of me knew she was telling the truth.

“You guys aren’t, like, mad or anything that Spencer was doing drugs? Or like... That he made friends with a dru-recovering drug addict,” I looked up at her, very cautiously. 

“We’re just happy he, and you, are getting the help you both need. We’re all just surprised he kept it to himself for as long as he did,” she explained. I nodded and looked down at the ground.

“And, like… He’s not going to get fired, is he? He said it wasn’t his fault that this happened,” I sighed as I looked at her. 

“Spencer’s not going to lose his job. He’s too loved and too much of an asset,” she laughed lightly. I returned the laughter and nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, he’s pretty smart…” I rubbed the underside of my nose and shrugged, “The first time we kinda hung out… He kept telling me that smoking can take 6 minutes of your life away to get me to stop,” 

“Did it work?” Emily asked, a playful chuckle in her tone. I laughed and nodded.

“Kinda. I mean… I smoke every so often, but not as much as I used to,” I sighed as I looked up at her, “I still do it when he isn’t around. But when he’s around I forget things… Like… The shit hand I was dealt. Ya know? Like, he gives me something else to think about,” I furrowed my eyebrows as I spoke. Emily cocked her head to her shoulder and looked up at my face. I looked at her, feeling my face relax.

“Like what?” She asked. I could feel a small smile slowly growing on my lips. She returned the smile, kinda knowing what I meant. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say. We should probably go back out there, don’t you think? They might be looking for us,” she laughed and gestured towards the door. I looked towards the door one last time. 

“Yeah, yeah,” I nodded before stepping closer to the door, “Spencer said something earlier about lunch, and I’m starved.” I laughed and walked beside Emily.

“Where were you guys going?” 

“I’m not sure, do you know of any good places,” I looked over at her. She thought for a moment and cocked her head.

“There’s a really good deli down the street, I’m sure Spencer would love it there. They serve coffee and I’m sure you know how he feels about coffee,” She chuckled lightly.

“Whenever he stays at my apartment, he always insists we get coffee because I don’t have any,” I shook my head before laughing. Emily nearly cackled and nodded.

“Sounds like him,”

“What are you two laughing about,” Spencer looked over at Emily and I as we re-entered the conference room. I looked over at him with a smile.

“Uh, lunch,”

series taglist: @shameleswhorehourstm , @itsametaphorbriansblog , @bxtchboy69 , @sammypotato67 , @seninjakitey , @thebluetint , @honestlystop , @herecomesthewriterwitch , @mediocrity-atitsfinest​

tags that didn’t work: @mediocrehamiltrash , @thatsonezesty13 , 

(if you want to be apart of the series taglist, let me know!)

#shadow writes stuff #masterlist #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid #criminal minds #mgg #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #matthew gray gubler imagine #matthew gray gubler x reader #doctor spencer reid #doctor spencer reid imagine #doctor spencer reid fanfiction #doctor spencer reid fan fiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fan fic #criminal minds one shot #a different type of high

[darling-i-read-it]

The Number of the Beast Is 666...

3x12

Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham 

Hannibal Re-Write Series Masterlist

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: spoilers for hannibal, murder, guns, pregnancy, burning, canniablism

Author’s Note: Second to last episode. I’m in my feels. I love this show so much. I hope you guys enjoy!

I used some direct quotes from the script so some things may seem familiar 

Official Episode Summary: The FBI enlists the help of Dr. Fredrick Chilton in hope of drawing Francis Dolarhyde into an ambush; Will's empathy for Dolarhyde impacts his psyche.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

Tag List (is always open!) : @llperfectsymmetryll​ @ericacactus​ @vlightning95​ @sweetgoodangel​

(not my gif) 

Will sat across from Bedelia. She had her legs crossed, her stance closed. She would likely not open up to him here, not in this space. It felt too much like a therapy session for his taste. You were healing quickly but you weren’t able to make it to this mock session. Instead, Bedelia was curious to know how Will was taking this.

“I look at my wife and I see her dead. I see Mrs. Leads and Mrs. Jacobi lying where Y/N should be,” he said, his voice bitter. Bedelia nodded slowly.

“Do you see yourself killing her?” she questioned. Will rose his chin up at the accusation. 

“No. I see myself killing the rest of them,” his voice lost some confidence as he spoke that but he quickly regained it, “but not her.”

“It’s hard to predict when brittle materials will break. Hannibal gave you three years to build a family and a life, confidence he’d find a way to take them from you,” Bedelia stated. 

“So you know?” he asked. She shrugged.

“I guessed.” Bedelia thought about you as a mother. It seemed like such a foregin way to describe you but not exactly wrong. “Hannibal wants to take her from you because he couldn’t have her.” 

Will raised an eyebrow.

“Alternatively,” he suggested, “I don’t think Hannibal knew that it was going to be Y/N.” 

“But he wants her. Aggression can be effective means of maintaining order in a relationship. Which relationship that is is debatable.” Will adjusted his seating. 

“What’s he going to take from you?” he asked.

“Is it important to you that he take something from me?” she questioned.

“Hannibal has agency in the world.”

“Hannibal has no intention of seeing me dead by any other hand than his own, and only then if he can eat me. He’s in no position to eat me now,” she said smoothly. He nodded in agreement. 

“If you play, you pay.” 

“You’ve paid dearly. As has your wife. That knowledge will lie in the skin forever.” She thought about that for a moment. “It excites him to see you marked in this particular way.” 

“Why?” 

“Why do you think?” 

Will studied her, amused and almost annoyed by her psychiatric games. He played this enough with Hannibal.

“Bluebeard’s wife. Secrets you’re not to know, yet sworn to keep,” he said. Bedelia raised her chin and shook her head, ever so slightly.

“I was not Bluebeard’s wife, I was your wife’s stand in.” She paused. “But if I was, I would’ve preferred to be the last.” 

Will considered this. He thought about you. He was away from you and that seemed nearly illegal. You and him had always been together. But then he thought of Hannibal. He thought of you and Hannibal. He thought of the three of you. His mind slowed for a moment. 

“Is Hannibal…in love..with me?” he asked. Bedelia smiled.

“Could he daily feel a stab of hunger for you and find nourishment in the very sight of you? Yes. But you are not just you. You come with Y/N Graham as well.” She reminisced on the days before Florence for a minute. Seemed like ages ago. “When Hannibal would hear the two of you bunched together like that he got irked, like his mind could only comprehend his want for one of you at a time. And then, as time went on, I think he realized that you came together. He could have both of you. The Grahams.” Will took this at face value. In a way, it was something he had always known. “But does she ache for him? Do you?” Will did not answer. He just stared. Bedelia went on. “Once you catch the Red Dragon, you can take your wife and your dogs home again. But will you go?” 

-

Hannibal stood across from Jack. They hated the presence of each other but stiffled it, for presence purposes. 

“Will’s thoughts are no more bound by fear or kindness than Milton’s were by physics. He is both free and damned to imagine anything.” 

“Now that he’s imagined the worst,” Jack stated. Hannibal nodded. 

“Like ducklings, we imprint on those ideas that grab our attention,” he explained.

“What’s got your attention? God, the Devil and the Great Red Dragon? I couldn’t believe you messed up with him Hannibal.” Hannibal ignored the last comment. That was an anger used to simmer for another time.

“Lest we forget the Lamb.”

“Will is the Lamb of God?” Jack asked. Hannibal thought about this for a moment. 

“Hide us from the wrath of the Lamb,” Hannibal settled on.

“Who’s ‘us’?” Jack asked. Hannibal smiled.

“You, me, his wife and the Great Red Dragon.” 

-

You walked with Alana down to Hannibal’s cage. Your shoulder ached and pained you but you ignored it as best you could. She looked at you steadily as you approached the door. 

“Have you spoken to Will?” she asked. You looked over to her.

“He doesn’t even know I’m out of the hospital. Which will hopefully not cause any panic,” you muttered offhandedly. You glanced over at her and she saw an ounce of fear in your eyes. 

“You know, when I found out I was pregnant it wasn’t exactly a shock. But I was scared. I knew the world my child was being brought into. But he’s okay now. It’ll all make sense, I swear it,” she promised. You gave her a sensitive smile and nodded softly. 

“You brought a Verger baby. I’m bringing a Graham baby who will hear conflicted stories of the great Hannibal the Cannibal. I worry that I will bring the baby here to see him, if he’s still here. And they will be raised with him in the back of their minds, always wondering what exactly went on between their parents and a serial murderer,” you whispered carefully. As you finished you turned to the door and opened it before she could say anything more. 

She let you walk through the doors alone. 

Hannibal was standing at the glass. It was like he knew you were coming but the look on his face betrayed him. He was surprised to see you. And even a bit relieved, you could tell. You walked up to just a few feet away from the glass and stopped.

“Your shoulder-”

“It’s okay,” you promised. You glanced down at the floor and noticed that all of his things were gone, including his desk and chair. Reminded of the days when Will was in prison, you tentatively sat down on the ground. 

  Hannibal watched you and stayed still for a moment. Then he sat down in front of you on the ground. You smiled gently at the gesture.

“Will told you?” 

“Yes.” You looked into his eyes. You stared into them, deep into them.

“I have a feeling that you will not be here to meet them,” you stated. “I don’t know why. I just feel like something is bound to go wrong. We will catch the Dragon and then we will go home and nothing will be the same.” Hannibal watched your emotions rise and fall. Your face that he yearned to touch. He almost reached his hand up to the glass.

“What will you name them?”

“I haven’t gotten that far yet. But Will is never going to allow Hannibal, if that’s what you want,” you said laughing. 

“Pity,” he said and even he was laughing a bit. “I did not tell him to hurt you.” You nodded.

“I know.” You leaned forward. “What are you going to do about it then?” 

Hannibal smiled.

-

As you walked out of the room Alana gestured to you. Apparently Jack and Will were already in the building. 

You walked into the room with Alana and Will stood up.

“I was worri-”

“You never would have let me come if I told you. How’s Bedelia?” He shook his head and grabbed you by the waist, kissing you on the forehead. It conveyed his worry. He turned back to Jack.

“Eight people dead in a month. We can’t play a long game. I say we go for it. You know I know it’s the best way to bait him,” Jack said. He didn’t even glance twice at you. 

“You know Jack, if you had wanted me dead you didn’t have to go through all these lengths to make an attempt. Bringing Will, talking to Hannibal, calling the Dragon. It was all so extensive,” you sneered. Jack gave you a look.

“We don’t have time for this.” You slammed your hands on his Alana’s desk that he was standing behind. 

“It could have been me Jack. You would’ve had to go to my funeral and sit in the front row next to my grieving husband and wonder, ‘huh could I have done something to change this outcome’. And your mind will say no and so my husband would have sat there, thinking it was his fault, for the rest of his life!” you screamed. Jack was still. He had seen you like this once before. When he arrested Will. Alana watched from where she was standing by the window, a proud look on her face.

Will was more or less scared.

“And what do you do now? What do you do now?!” you asked. “Oh yes. The only logical solution. Send Will into the fire and bait the Dragon.” 

“Will suggested i-” he started but you gave him an ice cold look.

“I don’t care.” 

“We’ve fooled ourselves once into believing we were in control of what was happening. Are we still under that delusion?” Alana asked. You turned to her and Will did as well and as he did so he staggered. He had seen something in his head. 

“The Dragon has a certain abstract curiosity about me Y/N. All psychopaths are narcissists, they love to read about themselves. We should use Freddie.” You turned to him and he saw again whatever he had seen on Alana’s face. He grabbed your arm out of instinct. 

“I’m not letting you put yourself in harm's way.”

“We’re already in harm's way. Both of us.” 

“She would need to interview you,” you said. “Take your picture.”

“We’re in it now. Can’t go home as long as he’s loose. I really bad mouth the Red Dragon in Tattlecrime and then give him a shot at me.” You turned to Jack Crawford.

“If I had to choose, it would be you giving the interview. You risking your life. You.” 

-

You sat on a desk. Will stood just in front of you, his leg touching your knee. You had your fingers wrapped around the underneath of the desk as you looked over at Freddie Lounds where she sat. Chilton was in front of her, Alana and Jack elsewhere in the room. 

“There’s a strong bonding of aggressive and sexual drives that occurs in sadists at an early age,” Chilton said. 

“He's a vicious, perverted, sexual failure. An animal,” Will stated. You stared at Will and noticed that it had caught Chilton off too. You smiled a bit at the corners of your mouth. 

“The savage acts aimed primarily at the women, and performed in the presence of family, are clearly strikes at a maternal figure.” 

“The Tooth Fairy’s the product of an incestuous home.” Freddie scribbled this down aggressively, eating it all up.

“This is the child of a nightmare.” Those words hung in the air for a moment. Freddie pressed the stop button on her recording. 

“We need a key shot taken in your ‘Washington hideaway’,” Jack said. 

“Can I flip off the camera?” you asked.

“You’re not going to be in the picture,” Will chastised. You shrugged.

“I’d love something like you in a bathrobe, at the desk, poring over an artist’s conception of the Fairy,” Freddie said, holding up an artist concept drawing of Francis. You raised an eyebrow. 

“I’ll stand by the window.”

“I don’t know, the bathrobe seemed compelling to me. Maybe I’ll pick up my first copy of Tattlecrime,” you said. Will gave you a look but you just smiled. Freddie seemed to like that you agreed with her.

“Make sure you can get the fountain and the Capitol dome behind me Freddie. The Red Dragon has to be able to find this place, if he wants to,” Will finished. Freddie nodded and walked over. “Would you like to be in the picture, Frederick?” 

-

Alana slid a package through Hannibal’s cage.

“May I open it privately?” he asked.

“You may not.” 

She looked down at it as he started to open it. The box fell open to reveal two lips, no longer attached to their owner. Hannibal contained his surprise and anger. He took one between his fingers and straightened his backs.

“As though presents would allow me to forgive him,” Hannibal muttered but still, he put the lips between his own and ate it.

-

You stared at the screen in front of you. On it was Frederick Chilton, notably restrained. Beside you stood Will and at his desk was Jack Crawford. 

“I have had a great privilege. I have seen with wonder and awe the strength of the Great Red Dragon. I lied about Him. All that was said was lies from Will Graham,” Chitlon said. You straighten your back. “He made me say them. I have blasphemed against the Dragon. Even so, the Dragon is merciful. He knows you made me lie, Will Graham. Because I was forced to lie, He will be more merciful to me than to you, Will Graham.” You hated this. Every fiber of your being hated this. You wanted to turn it off but you didn’t, you needed to see the end. “Reach behind you, Will Graham, and feel for the small knobs on the top of your pelvis. Feel your spine between them; that is the precise spot where the Dragon will snap your spine. There’s much for you to dread. From my own lips, you’ll learn a little more to dread.” 

“Turn it off, Jack,” Alana said and Jack nodded, turning it off. You felt your spine all of the sudden. You were aware it was there. You felt it being tugged by a phantom force and turned to your husband, shaking your head. He stumbled back into a chair, head in his hands. 

You sat in front of him and grabbed his hands. Your skin touched his face as he held your hands there, blocking his sight. You turned to Jack Crawford. If looks could kill…

-

Bedelia looked at you two. Back again, sitting together. Your shoulder slumped but otherwise seemingly unaffected. Whatever emotional tole this may have taken, you did not show it on your face. 

Will on the other hand.

“Would you like to talk about what happened to Frederick Chilton?” she asked.

“The divine punishment of the sinner mirrors the sin being punished,” Will said. 

“Contrapasso. If you play, you pay,” she repeated. 

“Chilton languished unrecognized until Hannibal the Cannibal. He wanted the world to know his face and now, he doesn’t have one,” you said. 

“We’re all making our way through the Inferno. Dante’s pilgrims,” Bedelia siad.

“We’re pets, not pilgrims. And the Great Red Dragon kills pets first,” Will muttered.

“I hate that name. I wish we knew his actual name so we could call it so. It must be something mundane, something so unassuming,” you whispered, shaking your head.

“You put a hand on Dr. Chilton’s shoulder for the picture Will. Touch gives the world an emotional context.” She gestured to the hand that was brushing yours. Not holding. Just touching. “The touch of others makes us who we are. It builds trust.”

“I put my hand on his shoulder for authenticity,” Will argued. You felt that wasn’t true but you didn’t say it. 

“To establish he really told you those insults about the Dragon? Or had you wanted to put Dr. Chilton at risk? Just a little?” Bedelia questioned.

“I wonder,” Will muttered. 

“Do you really have to wonder?” she questioned. He paused.

“No.”

“Did you know what the Great Red Dragon would do Will? You were curious what would happen, that’s apparent. Is this what you expected?” Will was glad you were there. He grabbed your hand fully.

“I can’t say I’m surprised.” 

“Then you may as well have struck the match. That’s participation.” She studied the two of you. “Hannibal Lecter does indeed have agency in the world. He has both of you.”

-

“He did Chilton like it looked like you did Freddie Lounds. Hannibal said he would, in his own way,” Jack muttered. They stood outside of where Chilton was being taken care of, you beside him and Will. 

“He wanted to make amends to Hannibal,” Will said. You crossed your arms.

“He’ll have to do better than that.” Jack walked inside of the room but before Will walked in you grabbed his arm. 

“I hate this. I have a pit in my stomach and it won’t go away,” you whispered. He faced you completely and put his hand on your cheek, moving away some hair. 

“That’s a baby,” he joked. You rolled your eyes but smiled.

“I mean a feeling Will.” 

“It’s going to be okay. We’re going to be okay.” 

You didn’t believe him.

3x13

#hannibal lecter x reader #will graham x reader #will graham x reader x hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x reader x will graham #will graham imagines #hannibal lecter imagines #hannibal imagines

[msmarvelouswinchester]

Better Than Fiction

Summary - What happens when Dean catches you reading a very inappropriate piece of writing?

Pairing - Dean x Reader, Sam x Reader (platonic)

Warning - Fluff, Angst, Crack, Smut (the four horsemen are in this fic), unprotected sex 18+, kissing, swearing, fanfiction, a bit of ogling Dean.

Word count - 2.6k

Square filled - Smut ( @anyfandomgoesbingo )

A/N - This is my submission to @evilskank-inthemegacoven's Bingo challenge. This is also my second submission to @supernatural-jackles' Biweekly challenge. Prompts are in bold (2 prompts used)

I wrote this crack fic because I was going through a terrible writer's block and I had to write something different from what I usually write. Hope you like this!

Thanks to @miss-nerd95 for beta'ing this! <3

You gasped loudly as he threw you over the bed, pupils blown with lust as he drank you in. You had never seen such hunger in his eyes. He was hungry and he made that clear as he ripped off your blouse in one swift motion leaving you just in your shorts.

All of your rational thoughts flew out of the window as he started leaving kisses down your body. His hands massaged one of your breasts as his mouth latched onto another, eliciting a deep moan from your mouth as his tongue flicked your hardened nipple.

You knew this was bad but you were taken by the piece of writing like a moth drawn towards the flame. You had put your hands in the fire, willingly, and now you were going to get burned by it, but you couldn't stop yourself from reading the next lines.

“De-” you whimpered as he let go of your nipples and started to work on your pants. His hands brushed your clothed core as he murmured, “Mhm, so wet for me already. How long have you been thinkin’ ‘bout me, sweetheart?” Dean ripped your panties and let out a low growl, making you shiver in anticipation.

“Long enough.” You purred. He pulled at your panties as he captured your lips in a passionate kiss. His teeth grazed your lower lips, drawing out a low moan out of you.

A small whimper left your lips as you looked around the empty bunker, thanking your luck that Sam and Dean were both out to pick up some supplies. You contemplated whether to move your reading to your bedroom or stay at the War Room table surrounded by piles of lore books.

You didn't even know how you ended up on this fansite because all this time you clearly had no idea that fans from all over the world were writing certain stories involving the Winchester based on the books by Carver Edlund. You were supposed to be researching for new cases, not read some erotic piece of writing about Dean Winchester, your best friend, but you somehow opened this site and you did come across a really sensual story, and ever since you started reading it, you couldn't stop. So there was no turning back now.

You let out a little sigh as you read on, knowing very well your panties were now ruined.

“God, you're so beautiful,” he whispered into your ears. He licked his lips, his eyes raking over your naked form.

“And you're overdressed,” you whined tugging at his jeans.

“Someone's a little too eager,” he smirked and pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it on the floor. You could see his growing excitement strain against the material of his jeans. Your hands reached out to palm the very noticeable bulge but he quickly swatted your hand away.

“Tonight is not about me, it's about you, sweetheart.” He smirked.

“Mhm,” you nodded, unable to form a coherent sentence. You threw your head back as you cried out in ecstasy when Dean put a finger inside you. He pumped twice before adding another. Your eyes fluttered shut as he curled his fingers in you, the tips brushing against your g-spot repeatedly, the action drawing out a loud moan from you. You could feel yourself edging towards the climax as Dean kept on repeating the motion.

You bit down on your lip, trying to stop your own moan that was threatening to leave your mouth. Your free hand gripped your thigh tightly, nails digging into your skin through your jeans as you felt your face on fire.

“Fuck,” you cursed as he pulled out his fingers just before you could come. He had a devilish smirk on his face and you wanted nothing more than to wipe it off. He quickly opened the button on his jeans before pushing it down along with his boxers, his hard length springing free. You watched him as he took his cock in his hands, pumping himself twice before rubbing up and down his length, the tip of his length beaded with precum.

“Are you going to fuck me tonight?” You were getting annoyed with his teasing.

“Such a needy little thing, aren't you?” Dean pressed his lips onto yours in a chaste kiss before lining himself in front of your entrance. You sucked in a deep breath as he pushed himself in you. He-

You slammed your laptop shut as you heard the boys coming down the stairs. So lost in the story, you didn't even hear the boys closing the door of the bunker.

“Honey, we're home!” Dean teased, as he rounded the corner of the stairs and stood across the table. “You okay?” He narrowed his eyes at you as he placed the pack of beer on the table.

“Y-yeah. I'm great. Awesome. Amazing. Fantastic,” you blurted out and mentally slapped yourself - like that was totally going to help you and not raise any suspicion.

You looked at Dean with hooded eyes, feeling like you were seeing him in a new light. Were his eyes always this beautiful shade of green? Your eyes travelled downwards as you gulped at the sight of his jeans hanging low on his hips.

“Y/N?” You jumped at the voice of Sam.

“W-what?”

“Are you okay? You look a little flushed,” he asked with worries in his eyes.

“Stop asking me if I'm okay!” You exclaimed.

“Okay,” Dean raised up his hands in defence. Grabbing your laptop from the table, you stood up and turned on your heels to go to your room.

It had been three days since you had read the story about Dean, which you had eventually completed reading once you were alone in your bedroom. Three days since you had spent every spare minute you had to look up more of those writings about Dean. But now, you regretted it because every time you crossed paths with him, you wanted nothing but to rip his clothes off and jump his bones. You cursed Chuck for writing about the lives of the Winchesters and publishing it, giving way to the inspirations for these fanfictions. Your feelings toward him had intensified and you couldn't even form a complete sentence without stuttering while talking to him.

Even though Dean was indifferent to the change in your actions, Sam had quickly caught on to it but you had kept your mouth tightly shut, though you didn't know how long you would be able to control yourself around him - especially after tonight.

As you laid in the bed of a rundown motel room, you picked up a pillow to cover your ears, trying to drown out the voices coming from Dean's room. The banging of the headboard against the paper thin wall and the loud moans of the girl made you wonder if sex with Dean was really as good as you read in the stories. You looked over to the other bed in the room and saw Sam’s chest rise and fall accompanied by heavy breathing, indicating he was in deep sleep but Dean's low grunts and moans from the other room made it impossible for you to get any sleep that night.

“Morning,” Dean strolled into your room the next morning, with a stupid ‘I got laid’ look on his face. You glanced at him while sipping your coffee but refrained from saying anything.

“Next time, stay at another motel if you decide to bring home a girl,” Sam grumbled at his brother.

“So this is what it is all about? I swear you both are so uptight. You just need to get laid,” he smirked, taking a seat at the table across you.

You looked at him again but didn't say anything. You knew it was stupid to be angry at him. He was a man with needs and it was not like you had said anything to him about your crush.

“What's the matter with you?” Dean asked. You ignored his question as you grabbed your FBI clothes before marching off into the bathroom. Closing the door behind you, you let out a sigh of relief. You couldn't think straight with Dean Winchester looking like a freaking Vogue model in a suit. You took your sweet time to put on your clothes before leaving the bathroom.

“Y/N,” Dean said the moment you entered the room. You didn't even bother to look at him. “You can't ignore me forever.”

“I'm not ignoring you,” you finally spoke, “I'm just not talking to you.”

“Why? What did I do, sweetheart?”

“I'm not your sweetheart, Dean Winchester,” you snapped, surprising him.

“Easy there tiger,” he joked before slipping into his work persona, “So what do we have?” Dean picked up your laptop and logged into it before you could say anything. Your eyes widened in horror and embarrassment as you saw Dean’s face scrunch up, his eyes moving swiftly over the laptop screen.

“I had no idea you were into fifty shades, Y/N,” he chuckled.

“What?”

“This. You were reading porn.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Oh Y/N. I was so wrong abo-” He suddenly stopped mid sentence as the playfulness left his face. “What is this?” Dean frowned.

“I….I don't-” You stammered. This wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to find out.

“Dean?” Sam called out to his brother, noticing his change in expression. The older Winchester shoved the laptop towards his brother, all the while glaring at the electronic device.

“What the hell?” Sam exclaimed as he took a look at the screen. “Y/N. Tell me you weren't-”

“She clearly was.” You winced at how Dean spit out those words.

“I can explain. I just came across-”

“Don't.” Dean snapped and stormed out of the room.

The hunt was a success and right now you and the Winchesters were celebrating the success in a bar. You rolled your eyes as you saw Dean flirting with a blonde so you knew you weren't going to get any sleep tonight either but what bothered you the most was that Dean had barely spoken any words to you since he found out about the stories.

“Hey are you okay?” Sam asked as you sat there at the counter nursing a glass of drink.

“Y-yeah I'm fine,” you whispered.

“Talk to me. You know your secrets are always safe with me,” he smiled.

“What's left to say? I came across a story. It was an erotic piece of writing with, uh-Dean, and I read it. Now I can't look at him without thinking that I invaded his privacy. I know it's all fiction but I read porn about my best friend. Everytime I see him, I am reminded of how he flicks his tongue-”

“Y/N! Too much information,” Sam groaned.

“Sorry.”

“What you did is wrong but you can't turn back time, can you?”

“No but what am I supposed to do?”

“Get laid. Relieve some of that tension.” Sam shrugged, making you glare at him.

“I love your brother, Sam who is over there flirting with that blonde, not talking to me. I-I can't do this. It's better if I just pack up my bags and permanently move to Antarctica.” You muttered.

“Y/N, be realistic. Talk to him or find someone to scratch your itch.” Sam said, getting out of his seat before walking away from you. You flagged the bartender for another round when you noticed a man slide into the seat next to you.

“Hey gorgeous. What is a pretty little thing like you doing all alone here?” You wanted to puke as soon as you heard the man speak. He placed a hand on yours, making your shudder.

“Hey,” you said, trying to use some of Sam’s advice and it was only for one night.

“Want to get out of here?” You fought the urge to roll your eyes at the man’s straightforwardness, he could have at least bought you a drink.

“Uhm-” you played along.

“Come on baby. You and I are gonna have an amazing night with your pussy wrapped around my cock-” and that was the final strike. You were ready to get out of the bar but not with that man.

“No thanks, I have a boyfriend,” you mumbled before finishing your drink and storming out of the bar, unbeknownst to the fact that Dean was watching the whole interaction, the woman beside him long forgotten.

Seeing you storm out of the bar, peaked his curiosity. He was never good with feelings so when he caught you fantasizing about him, it took him entirely by surprise. He had stormed out of that room because if he had stayed one more second, he would have taken you right then and there. After that incident, he couldn't get you out of his mind and that was making him uncomfortable because it was getting impossible for him to continue walking around with a hard on.

Three harsh knocks on the door of the motel room interrupted your solo drinking session. Annoyed, you went to the door only for Dean to push it open and get in quickly

“Dean? What are-” your words were cut off by him loudly closing the door behind him. “Look I'm sorry, Dean. I know you can't even probably look at me. I am so sorry-”

“Why did you read about me?”

“What?”

“Why did you read about me? Why not read about Sam?” He raised his eyebrows at you.

“I-I….well. It's-I don't exactly have a reason-”

“Y/N.” He cocked his head.

“Fine. I like you. I like Sam too but he is like a brother to me and you're you. I-” you stopped rambling when you heard him scoff lightly.

“Then what's the matter with you?”

“Huh?” Now you were utterly confused.

“One moment you say that you like me and the next you are flirting with a sleazy bastard at the bar,” he huffed.

“You saw that?”

“Of course I did.”

“I thought you were angry at me because I literally read porn about you. You stormed out of that room.” You fiddled with the hem of your shirt as you whispered the words to him.

“I was angry but not at you. I don't like Chuck’s books but I kinda feel proud that you read porn about me,” you looked up at Dean and saw him smirking, “I was angry at myself because all this goddamn time I kept thinking you didn't feel the same.”

“What?”

“You have read about what fake-me can do, wanna see what the real me can?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“W-what?” At this question, Dean leaned in, cupping your cheek as he captured your lips in a kiss. Your hands travelled all the way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. His tongue swept across your lips, making you whimper. You both stumbled back to the bed, his lips still on yours. You only separated for a few seconds when you two quickly undressed.

“Dean!” You cried out as you felt yourself coming undone, followed by a guttural groan from Dean as he spilled inside you, coating your walls with his seed. He panted, dropping his head in the crook of your neck as you both came down from the high. Raising his head, Dean looked at you with a fond expression on his face as he pulled out of you, rolling to the other side of the bed.

“Whoever said it was very wrong. Reality is so much better than fiction,” you giggled, looking at the man lying beside you. He turned his body to pull you closer, pecking your lips.

“I can't argue with you on that. Now no more reading about me, okay?” You nodded a stupid grin on your face.

“I got the real deal.”

“So you're not moving to Antarctica, are you? ‘Cause I would love to call you mine and I'm not good at long distance stuff,” Dean smirked.

“No, Winchester. I am not going anywhere because I would love to be called yours. Also remind me to kill Sam in the morning.” You huffed, making Dean burst out in fits of laughter.

Feedback is highly appreciated!

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