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[tyunn1ngz]

cat hybrid!tyun . annnnnd send post

[maybanksprincess]

your mine.

warnings: suggestive, jj being a dick, pet names, kissing, kinda aggressive.

summary: someone at the beach is flirting with jjs girl, and he's not having it.

pairings: fwb!jj x fem!reader

requested by this ask! (thank you anon🤍)

it was a typically warm day in the outerbanks, you were wearing a skimpy pink bikini, that rides up on your thighs to let your tan lines show the tiniest bit.

jj had an arm slung around your shoulder, a beer in his other hand, as he watches the sunset. his thumb rubs light circles onto the shoulder his arm was around.

he reluctantly drops his arm from your shoulder and brings the almost empty beer bottle down from his lips. he turns to look at you, his eyes meeting yours.

"imma go get another beer, you gon' be okay?" he asks, his eyes tracing your face. he emphasizes the need for another beer, by holding it up and shaking it, the small amount of liquid swooshing around in the bottle.

"yeah of course, I'll be here." you smile up at him warmly and wave him off. you then turn back to look at the sun setting again to fill your "boyfriend's" absence.

he nods and walks away towards the punch and beer cooler, a few feet away from you.

as your staring up at the sky, you feel a pair of unfamiliar arms wrap around you. you turn around with a confused expression on your face, it's a random guy who you had seen stealing glances at you moments before.

you uncomfortably slip out of his grasp with a forced polite smile on your face. "I'm sorry, can I help you?" you ask, making eye contact with the man.

the man lets his hands drop to his sides, a sense of disappointment crossing his features. he quickly masks it with a smirk. he props his hand up on the tree behind your head and leans in closer. "i think you can sweetheart...you here alone?"

you can feel the uncomfortable feeling of his breath fanning on your face, something that makes you flustered only when jj does it. you were about to say something. tell him that you had a boyfriend, and you were taken, even though you technically weren't, but before you can open your mouth, you see the man being dragged by his collar.

your confused for a moment, but then you turn to see jj with a furious expression on his face. "What d' you think you're doing man? hittin' on my girl?" he asks with a possessive undertone to his words.

the man looks at him with a fearful expression and holds his hands up, his fingers slightly trembling. he gulps with fear etched on his face before he speaks, "i-i didnt know she was taken man. my bad."

jj chuckles lowly, before dropping his hands from his collar and shoving him. "yeah it is your bad."

the man starts to walk away before jj yells after him, "hey next time 'm gonna be doin' a lot more than shoving you!" he scoffs, then turns to you, gently wrapping an arm around your waist.

"cmon, lets go home pretty girl. remind you who you belong to, yeah?" he presses a little kiss to your temple before guiding you away from the sand.

[midnight--sadness]

‼️ SQUID GAME SEASON 1 CAST IS GONNA REUNITE AT A FAN EVENT‼️

[local-loudmouth]

JJ, today's the day >:3

Are you ready to marry your wife??

Yes…yesss….

[222col]

guys i’ve literally only watched s1 of obx so far so ur girl is NERVOUS about how im writing for rafe & jj 😭😭

[crybabycameron]

tags 𓂃 ₊⟡

maddy yap

jj thoughts

writing resources <3

gif bank ꣑ৎ

[rafeslvbug]

gumdrop!reader getting fratboy!rafe a cap…

you swung your shopping bag in your hand, hopping onto rafe’s bed where he lazily spread across, lifting his head a fraction from the mattress to see you. “what’re you doin’ princess?” he grunts, letting his head collapse back onto his cluster of pillows as you move to straddle his lap.

“i got you a gift!” you rummage through the overstuffed shopping bag, fishing through the various stuffed animals and ‘ugly’ keychains.

“with my money?”

“duh.”

“then is it really a gift?” he quirks an eyebrow up at you.

frowning, dropping the gift back into the bag, you fold your arms over your chest, “okay then you don’t want it?”

“no i do, get it back out the bag.”

“alright, then,” you murmur, delving back through the mass of things to pull out the pink, slowpoke cap. “here! d’you like it?”

rafe pulls a face that has disgust etched into it, gingerly running his finger over soft edge, “fuck no. what even is this shit? an’ why’s it furry? caps ain’t supposed to be like this.”

“rafe–“

“d’you get scammed, princess?”

“no, rafe–“

“i mean ‘s okay if ya did..i’m jus’ sayin’…”

“rafe! i did not get scammed, i got this on purpose, for you!” you hold the cap out to him and it’s like he sinks further back into the pillows.

“nah..thanks but you can give it to someone else..” his finger pushes the cap away, almost terrified to even touch the thing.

giving him an offended look, you deftly pluck his black cap off his head, pulling the pink one over his head. “it’s for you, dumbass, take it.”

“don’t go callin’ me that, and i don’t want it,” he protests, moving to pull it off his head but pausing at the frown on your face. he sighs, runs his hand over his face before opening one eye at you. “ya really want me to wear this thing?”

you nod, liking the look of the pink creature, over his unamused face. “yeah, looks cute.”

“looks fuckin’ weird..what even is it? a monkey?”

“a pokemon,” you correct.

“a poke– ‘s that that pikachu shit?”

letting out a chuckle you shrug, “guess so, but this is slowpoke.”

“slowpoke? ‘m not a slowpoke.”

“not you, the pokemon is called that!”

“ahh monkey called slowpoke,” he hums, only for you to shake your head.

“not a monkey, a mix between a salamander and a hippo,” you explain, giggling as he briefly takes the cap off his head, examining it with furrowed brows.

“what..the fuck? where’d you even get a salamander in this shit?”

“rafe..d’you even know what a salamander is?”

“no..” he flushes red, stuffing the cap back on his head before muttering, “doesn’t fuckin’ matter does it? dumb cap shit, ‘m not wearing it in public.”

“of course you are,” you disagree, beginning to dump out all the other stuff you bought.

“oh dear god,” rafe groans, burying his face in the pillows.

(yap : 1K CELEBRATION : request anything you like for ant rafe au, !reader, jess mariano or even a new character like jj or from a different fandom <3)

taglist: @starkeyjoseph @rafesbabygirlx @slut-4-rafey @lanaslushworld @littlelamy @rain-likes-purple @sunny1616 @csturnioloswifey @silkylovey @mak1777 @supasolaa @octoberbxbyy

[emilys-bangs]

you come back with gravity | e.p

Tags: unit chief!emily, assistant!reader, brief mentions of blood, small injury, emily resisting reader (but not for long), reader's a rambler and just trying to let emily let them do their goddamn job, one bribery attempt in the form of coffee (it doesn't work)

Summary: Your boss isn’t your biggest fan. You spend precious company time trying to get into her good graces.

Word count: 4.2k

A/N: I've been so excited to write this dynamic and I know I advertised this as flirty reader but that will happen!! They just needed to get into emily's good graces first heh :p anyway, I'm pretty sure half the wc is just reader yapping, I've grown quite fond of them and they do remind me of myself....so if you hate them don't let me knowww. Anyway! More of this reader coming hopefully soon <3 (gosh we know where they got the yapping from)

Your boss thinks you’re entirely useless. Dark haired, sharp eyed, and beautiful, she keeps you ten feet away and flashes you tight-lipped, diplomatic smiles each time you try to get close to doing your job. From your first day you’ve been met with cool surprise at your arrival, then polite but ruthless dismissals of any and all attempts to help. Can you get her a coffee? No, she can get it herself. Can you help her organize her files? You sure as fuck can’t. Can she break down her schedule for you so you can take over the ropes? Yeah, keep dreaming.

You’re hardly what they call a profiler, but it’s clear as day to anyone: she doesn’t want you here. 

It’s only been a week and the rejection is grating down on your bones. You hadn’t been aware that she didn’t know of—or approve—your recruitment, but two minutes into your first visit to her office and it had been made all too clear. It didn’t take long before the fog lifted, her jaw setting in a hard angle, lips pressed thin into a carefully neutral line. She had looked you dead in the eye, ignoring the five boxes of neglected case files sitting neatly on a forklift in the corner of her office, and very cooly dismissed any notion of wanting you.

It stung—it still does—to be so easily dismissed, swatted away like a bothersome fly. And it’s not like you’ve been dying your whole life for the opportunity to be some higher up’s assistant, but damn it, it’s in your hand now and you’re not going to let go.

You aren’t here by her approval, but by god are you going to stay.

“She hates me.” You moan to Penelope through a bite of flaky pastry, crumbs floating down to your sensible, neatly pressed slacks. “She hates me, and she’s gonna keep pushing me away until I’m useless enough that she has enough reason to fire me.”

“Sweets, she’s not gonna do that.�� Penelope laughs as she types on her keyboard. Too late, you realize that maybe you shouldn’t be huffing and puffing about your boss to possibly one of her closest friends, but Garcia loosens your tongue like that. “Em just needs time to get used to you. She’s totally convinced she can do this on her own—and not that she can’t, obviously, she’s a super boss if I’ve ever seen one, but,” she spins her chair to face you, “it gets too much, even for the super bosses. You’re exactly what she needs, she just doesn’t know it yet.” 

You sullenly wipe the crumbs from your thighs. “How do I make her know it?”

Penelope’s eyes gleam. Apart from your stingy, avoidant boss, everyone else in the BAU has welcomed you with open arms, apparently also glad that you’re there to lighten their unit chief’s load. JJ helped you situate yourself in what she told you was her old office and Reid welcomed you to his stash of sugar in the kitchenette, having heard your ramble to Tara about the painfully bitter kitchenette coffee you’d sworn off after a few mouthfuls. They’ve all been lovely, considering you’ve only known them for a few days; you’ve warmed up to Garcia the most, having known her for a few weeks longer while everyone else was on leave.

“Now we’re talking.” She nods approvingly. “To start with—”

The phone rings. She clicks on speaker as you chew through another mouthful of your croissant.

“Garcia, any hits on our unsub’s accomplice?”

You pause at the sound of Emily’s voice, sharp even as it buzzes with static.

“Facial recognition is still running, my sweet, I haven’t gotten anything yet.”

A low sigh blows through the phone. “Alright, well, try searching through the unsub’s friends and family in the meantime. Past school friends, colleagues—everyone.”

“Already on it.” Garcia says promptly. “I’ll hit you back.” She ends the call and turns to you again. Her brown eyes shimmer behind her glasses. You subconsciously lean in close, anticipating some wild secret to earning the way to your boss’ heart.

“You’re gonna need a vanilla latte.” She announces.

____

It takes four days before you come face to face with her again. Four days you’ve spent mostly in idleness, picking up the odd job here and there and helping Garcia behind the scenes, not quite brave enough to encroach onto your boss’ business while her claws are still out. The jet lands from Florida late at night, rather conveniently setting up your fresh attempt at sweetening her up.

You’re in early the next morning, a brimming cup of vanilla latte heating your palm as you head up the stairs. The bullpen is still fairly empty, its usual buzz tuned down low and sluggish. You absently tug your collar above your sweater vest, smoothing it down flat against your throat before knocking on your unit chief’s door. 

She answers quickly. You shove one deep breath into your lungs before swinging the door open and walking in.

“Good morning.” You say cheerfully, smiling as you cross the floor to her desk. It doesn’t escape your notice how unfairly good she looks, dark hair blending into her navy blazer, bangs soft and shiny above eyes that track your approach.

“Morning.” She intones. You hand her the coffee and her expression softens, the corner of her mouth pulling just slightly. “Aw, thank you. What do I owe you?”

Four twenty five.

“Oh, nothing.” You wave your hand dismissively. She frowns, brows furrowing. “Uh, well, how about your calendar? Or a planner, if I can have a look at that?” You channel your brightest smile.

Emily tilts her head, idly tracing her finger over the plastic lid. “Calendar? Why do you need that?”

“Well, I’m a little…” out of my depth, “...lost concerning your schedule. There’s a few things I’ve written down that need to get done, but I can’t fit them into a time slot without knowing—”

“It’s fine.” There’s that tight smile again. It’s miles away from the easy grin she gives to her colleagues. “My schedule doesn’t need arranging. I’ve got it handled.”

Stupid, stubborn FBI agents.

“I’m not trying to imply that you don’t!” You blurt out. “Really, Chief Prentiss, I’m just here to make your life easier.” You force out a nervous laugh, swallowing the sour taste in your mouth. “Scout’s honor.”

Her hum is thick with something you can’t place as she looks away, her hand dipping into her bag. She hands you a crisp ten dollar bill and a look that says get out. “Thank you, Y/N. You didn’t have to, but I appreciate it. Really.”

You want to argue that she doesn’t seem too appreciative, but the sharp tilt of her eyes makes you tuck your tongue under your teeth. 

She’s your boss. Totally capable of firing you, with or without reasonable justification.

You bite down on a huff, take the money, and try not to shrink beneath her eyes as you see yourself out.

____

Admittedly, this does feel a touch illicit. But it’s her work calendar—or so you’ve been informed—so it’s not like you’re snooping through her underwear drawer.

You’re just doing your job. 

You look down at your notepad, pursing your lips at the list of meetings and tasks your boss needs to get done by the end of—yep, this month. No biggie, except that less than half of them are actually written on the calendar. It’s blank, for the most part, excepting a few days with all-caps tasks filling up their boxes.

“This won’t work here,” you mutter to yourself, glancing at the full slot for Tuesday. You’ve already got three bullet points written down for it. 

As you’re shifting it, a new icon comes to life on the screen, a glaring bold EP blinking next to your initials on the top corner of the page. The bubble crawls down until it’s in the Tuesday box, side by side with yours where you’re halfway through deleting the task Emily had already written down.

Shit.

You pause, twisting one of your rings around your finger as you wait for her to do something. Blue light burns itself into your retinas. 

The bubble stays still for a few seconds. You watch as it moves, springing back the words you’d erased. 

Well, fine. You’ll have to make do with Wednesday. 

You start typing down the other assignments, one eye on your notepad and the other on the EP bubble. It stays still, so you continue.

“What are you doing?”

You startle, shoulders jumping at the sound of Emily’s voice. She doesn’t wait at the door, walking in and rounding your desk like she owns it. 

You flash her a smile like your heart isn’t pounding. “Trying to organize your schedule.”

Disapproval carves itself in the space between her brows. “How did you even access it?”

“Penelope got me in.” You say brightly. “Don’t—I mean, I don’t know your password or anything, it’s just that I was kind of flying blind like I told you, so she helped me out a little.”

Way to throw her under the bus. 

But she’s her best friend. You’re decidedly not.

“And,” you continue hastily, grabbing your notepad before she flicks you away like you’re a bothersome crumb on her suit, “this is what I’ve got so far. Cruz’s report is due by the end of the week, and you’ve also got a budget justification meeting—plus Penelope mentioned two PD’s that need your help with consults while you were away in Florida.” 

You’ve had time to work things through while she was away. But unfortunately not much to do without her sign off.

Emily’s tongue drags over her lip. One of her brows arches—an irritated tick, you’ve realized.

“Fine. This has to stay on Tuesday. I’ll get someone on the consults tomorrow, if we don’t get a case, and the meeting…” her lips purse just slightly as she presses two fingers between her brows, massaging the wrinkle. In the low, dim lights of your office, she seems much less stiff. A lot more exhausted. “Do with that what you will, just don’t make it Friday.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“And don’t call me Ma’am.”

A grin tickles your lips. She’s already walking away, unaware of your teeth biting down on your triumph.

“You got it, g—Chief.”

____

There’s an undeniable pep in your step when you walk through the dim BAU halls the next day. Part of your brain realizes that you’re being entirely ridiculous, but the larger, louder part can’t really care. Cracking through the hard shell of Emily Prentiss’ exterior is possibly harder than cracking ancient hieroglyphics. Maybe it wasn’t a clean crack, sure—and okay, you weren’t able to reach in too deep—but now you can feel faint warmth rather than rough-hewn stone under your fingertips.

You’re lightly chatting with Luke and Tara over a box of pastries you’d gotten when she calls you into her office, her voice low yet still carrying throughout the bullpen. 

“Trouble?” Luke raises his eyebrows, his smile partially hidden behind a Danish.

Your stomach turns at the thought. You dust powdered sugar off of your fingertips, failing to muster a smile when Tara scolds him for it, a thud sounding beneath the desks which could mean her boot connected with his ankle. 

All of your surety suddenly dissolves, your good mood churning in your gut as you climb up the stairs and hesitantly approach Emily’s office, as if she rigged the floor with land mines.

God, you hadn’t done anything, had you? All you did was fix up her schedule. Could you have fucked it up that horrendously? Made her miss a hugely important meeting with the director of the goddamn—

“Are these yours?”

She points to a pair of earbuds on her desk.

You blink. “What?” You say stupidly.

Emily picks up the earbuds. They’re marked with a swipe of nail polish at the base, glossy red and definitely yours. You needlessly pat your pockets, silently wondering when you’d misplaced them.

“Oh. Yeah, they are.” You can feel your face flame hot as you take them from her and stuff them in your pocket. 

You wait. She doesn’t say anything. Neither do you. Well, not for a few beats. 

“Is that…is that all?” 

Emily nods. “That’s all.”

Your eyes drop to the multitude of files on her desk. “You don’t need me to do anything?”

“Not as of right now.” 

You can feel the walls rising up, blocking you out. Your desperation rises similarly, bubbling up and spilling out when your eyes drop from hers and fall to the orchid pot on her windowsill. The droopy leaves catch your attention, wilting on top of each other and curving downward.

“These orchids are overwatered.” You blurt out, walking over to them and touching one of the yellowing leaves. You also note the way its white petals are turning golden, wrinkled at the edges. They catch the full force of the sunlight streaming in through the window. 

“You shouldn’t keep them in direct sunlight, they get sunburned. Orchids are quite delicate. How often are you watering them?” You turn to your boss in time to see her brows tick up, bemused.

“Uh, every day.” She taps her pen against the desk, chewing on her lip. “The leaves have been turning yellow.”

“That’s because of overwatering. It can often look like underwatering. Orchids are difficult to care for, but they don’t need that much water—you were drowning them.”

The corner of her mouth twitches.

You clear your throat, neck ablaze, “I can fix them up for you. If you’d like. Uh, I do know a bit about plants.”

Emily tilts her head in a nod. “Okay.” She agrees.

“Yep. Great, I’ll just—” You point to the door and quickly follow your finger, an orchid pot tucked to your side like you’re smuggling contraband. “I’ll take care of them!” You throw over your shoulder, internally cringing as you go down the stairs, hugging your boss’ rotting plant.

____

“Nothing’s been deleted, the folders have just shifted. You can find them here.” You run the mouse down the bottom edge of the screen, prompting the taskbar to slide up. “See, just there.” You click on a partially hidden icon, and Reid’s files bloom on the screen. 

He nods slowly, a little pinch between his brows. “I see. I just don’t get why they’re so elusive.” He mutters, “Or why they don’t attach user guides on how to operate the updates.” 

You shrug, lips twisting against the smile trying to break free. It’s truly endearing how so thoroughly a certified genius gets stumped by technology. But it’s not like you can blame him in this case; the update really is ridiculous—and wildly unnecessary.

“Do you have any idea why they keep doing these?” He runs his fingers through unruly, golden brown curls.

“Well, tech’s gotta have something to do, right? I think they try to hide them more with each update so they can confuse the hell out of anyone trying to break in.” You laugh. It prompts a smile from him, a little bashful, soft as his cardigan. Idly, you think maybe he should meet one of your girlfriends.

He takes a sip from his coffee. “You should help Emily out with that too, she’s been complaining about it.”

You tilt your head. “Has she?”

“Have I been complaining about what?” Emily’s voice curls around the back of your chair, spiking your heart rate as you spin to see her. 

“The new update.” Reid pipes up. “Y/N just helped me figure out where my files and emails went.”

Her eyes slide to you. It’s a slow drag that leaves heat in its wake, your blood simmering with the full force of her attention. 

You fidget with your ring, offering her a smile. “I can show you how it works.”

Her fingers flex around her coffee mug. “It’s your lunch break.” She hedges.

“I don’t mind.” You’re strangely breathless. “It won’t take long. Unless you’re busy.”

She considers you for a beat, then shakes her head. You jump up from Reid’s chair, trying not to look like an overeager puppy following at her heels. 

“Thanks, Y/N!” Reid calls out.

You do something with your hand, half dazed. “Sure thing, doc.”

The rush of air that Emily leaves behind smells like coffee and sugar and something like caramel. The scent tickles your nose as you follow her across the bullpen. You’re not quite sure if you should lengthen your stride, walk next to her, but she outpaces you anyway, nimbly climbing the stairs and offering you her chair as you walk through the door.

“Have a seat.”

You decide not to protest. Spinning to her desktop, you wiggle the mouse and bring the screen to life, then walk her through the steps you’d shown Reid. She hovers over your shoulder as you ramble, the smooth scent you’ve now discovered is her perfume clouding your lungs. It’s that caramel; something warm, silky and sweet, almost entirely cutting off the airflow to your brain.

The distinct weight of her hand presses down on the back of your—her—chair as she grips it, giving the occasional hum in response to your instructions. You jiggle the mouse, double clicking more than necessary in an attempt to hide the gravel in your voice. You almost lose your train of thought more than once, but you manage to hold it together.

“That’s it.” You end lamely, letting go of the mouse. The rich brown of her eyes is only a few inches from yours when you look up. 

Jesus. 

“You could’ve told me, you know. I’m”—just here to help—“pretty good with computers. I took a few coding classes back in college—and Garcia’s been showing me the ropes, too! So I think I’m proficient enough. If you, um, ever need anything. Computer related or otherwise.” 

You realize that you should stand. You do, hands automatically smoothing over your blazer. “Anything else I can help with?” You ask hopefully.

Emily shakes her head. “That’s all, thank you. Enjoy your lunch break.” She softens the words with a smile, a hint of a dimple rendering you unable to push back. 

You walk out as dazed as you were when you walked in.

____

You’re wincing as you shoulder your way through the bathroom door, one hand cupped under the other to catch the drip of blood from your palm. It’s not a deep cut, you don’t think, but it stings like hell. At least you can’t see any shard of ceramic lodged beneath the blood.

Well, not yet.

The door swings shut behind you, but you’re not alone. 

Drying her hands at the sinks is none other than your boss. She immediately notices your hand, her brows drawing together in sharp lines.

“What happened?”

“Chief Prentiss!” Your voice echoes loudly against the tiles. You bite down on another wince and shove your hands under the tap. “It’s nothing. Just a small cut, it hardly hurts—”

“That’s not what I asked.” Her heels click against the floor. Suddenly she’s there, right at your elbow, her fingers closing around your wet wrist. The blood washes clean under the water, but it still forms up against the flow, rushing to escape your veins. You barely notice the sting as Emily tilts your hand, observing the thin line running from your middle finger to the base of your thumb.

Her eyes flick up to yours, obsidian dark. Her brows raise expectantly.

“Uh. Reid dropped his mug. I was just helping him clean up, but,” your shoulder touches your ear, “I was a little clumsy with it. It’s fine, really, doesn’t even hurt!”

A displeased hum cuts through your ramble. “Cleaning up after Spencer isn’t part of your job description.”

“What is?” You ask, tired from her hot and cold, your tongue loose from the press of her fingers on your wrist. You snap your mouth shut too late, internally cursing.

Emily is quiet as she tilts your hand under the water. “Rounding up last week’s reports.” She says eventually. Your head snaps up. “Spencer hasn’t turned his in yet and Luke’s backlog is at least three cases behind.” She glances at your hand. “If you can, that is.”

“Yeah!” Jesus, dial it down. You clear your throat, nodding, “Yes, definitely can do, Chief.” You would salute, if your hand wasn’t held in hers beneath the water (why is she still holding it?).

A sharp dip of her chin is all the reply you get back. “A bandaid won’t hold.” She murmurs, dropping your hand and grabbing the first aid kit hanging on the wall. “You’ll need to bandage it.”

“That seems excessive.” Directly disagreeing. “Ma’am.” She told you not to call her Ma’am. “It’s already stopped bleeding—”

“No one will appreciate it if your blood’s all over the paperwork.” She says wryly, placing the kit on the counter.

“Right.” You snap your mouth shut. “Of course not.”

“And don’t call me Ma’am again.”

“Does gorgeous work?”

She blinks.

“Oh, Jesus. I’m so sorry, I don’t know what—” you clamp your hand over your mouth. “I’ll just leave now.” You mumble, mortification weakening your knees.

Emily shakes her head, the corner of her mouth tilting as she walks past you and out of the bathroom. Her perfume washes over you, lingering with your stinging hand and the boiling heat of shame crawling all over your body.

____

You’re heading to the elevators, coat slung over your arm, when you glimpse the light on in Emily’s office. It’s not terribly late, but there’s no one else on the floor, either. You make a detour to the glass doors of the bullpen, swinging them open and walking in.

Even before you reach her office your breath is catching, a dampness in your palms that you hastily wipe away on your clothes. She’s past the point of tossing you to someone else, you try to tell yourself, but the voice in your head is weak. You’ve been getting her to bend more, widening the crack and worming yourself through the gap, but she still makes your insides flutter nervously. 

Maybe Emily Prentiss has resigned herself to your help. You don’t think she’s reached the point of liking you yet.

Still, you knock on her open door and poke your head in. The orchids sit pretty on her desk, warmed to a faint yellow beneath the lamplight.

You’re usually a confident person. But the second her eyes lock with yours, your knees just about turn to jelly.

“Hi.” Your voice is soft. “It’s, uh—it’s late.”

She sets her pen down. “Didn’t know you set a curfew for me.”

“Oh! No, of course not, that’s not what I—”

Her low laugh makes you freeze in place. It doesn’t last long, but it washes over you like a faint glow, warmth kissing the surface of your skin. Too late, you realize the teasing in her voice—silk soft and pliant, the way it is when she’s talking to Reid or Garcia.

“I’m sorry,” you say, though you don’t know what you’re apologizing for. You venture deeper into her office, feeling her eyes track your steps. “What I mean to say is you shouldn’t have to be here longer than anyone else.” 

Emily’s lips press together into a pitiful smile. 

You fiddle with your coat, shrugging a little. “Sure, you’re the boss, but…I can help.” 

If you’d gotten a dollar for every time you’ve spoken that phrase over the past two weeks, you’d be swimming in money. Still, you clear your throat.

“I can go through the paperwork with you, and I can help organize your schedule to make room for it when you’re not on cases, and I can help you prioritize everything so you don’t fall behind. It’s not much, and I know you can do it all on your own,” your hand flaps at your side, “but you don’t have to. That’s what I’m here for.”

The remnants of your voice echo around her office as Emily laces her fingers together and sets her chin on top of her fists. Your heart skips as she looks you over, the sharpness of her gaze softened by the warm light of the lamp at her elbow.

“You’d be in for a late night.” She says eventually.

Your eyes widen. “That’s fine! I mean—not too late, obviously, but”—you shrug, fiddling with a loose string on your coat and forcing nonchalance in your voice—“it is my job.”

It’s an electric zap up your spine when you glimpse both her dimples. “Tomorrow.” Emily says. It holds a shade of promise, not as airy as her other dismissals. “Go home for now.”

“I will if you will.”

She softly clucks her tongue. “Don’t push it.”

Your body flushes with heat.

“Y-Yes, Ma—yes, Chief. Have a good night.”

“You too.”

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism @catssluvr @i-lovefandom @haiklya @storiesofsvu @ashluvscaterina @basicallyvivi @temilyrights @professorsapphic @decadentcatcrusade @piiinco @jareavsheavn @mourningthewicked @heartoreadallthequeerthingz @rustnroll @slutforabbyanderson @maximoffcarter @cns-mari @daddy-heather-dunbar @lcvessapphic

[goorgeousz]

older | aaron hotchner

after hours au

older | aaron hotchner

after hours au

pairing: aaron hotchner x profiler!fem!reader

summary: the team uses their profile skills combined to figure out why you’re not interested in the cute agent just downstairs. you hate it. Hotch loves it.

content/tw: a little swearing.  reader is way too dramatic (she threatens to shoot morgan and then herself out of shame).

word count: 1.6k

a/n: I had so much fun writing this one. again, this idea came to me in a shower (my showers are not that long) (I just happen to shower a lot and i have my best ideas in it)

if you have any requests, suggestions or ideas (thought about in the shower or not), my requests are open <3

I’ll stop yapping (for now)

after hours masterlist

main masterlist

The bittersweet scent filled your nostrils before the sight of the steaming extra creamy cappuccino from your favorite coffee shop reached your eyes.

“What?” you squealed in surprise, stopping on your steps and spinning around to find Leo, one of the agents from the second floor “A cappuccino? My favorite! Leo, you didn’t have to.”

“It’s nothing, really.” he dismissed, but puffing his chest either way “I remember you said it’s your favourite. And it happens to be on my way here.” it wasn’t, and you knew it.

“You’re the best!” you complimented, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek “Thank you so much, honey! And it has a little heart in it.” you cooed, and smiled when he blushed “You spoil me way too much!”

“Anything for you.” he flirted “If you need me, I’ll be… Well, you know where to find me.” you chuckled.

“I do. Thank you again!” he smiled and winked, heading to the elevators.

After waiting for a second and tasting the drink to make sure it was as delicious as always (it was), you got back on your track to the break room, only two steps away. You bumped into Emily, who watched the whole interaction with a lopsided grin.

“What?”

“Nothing…” she sing-songed “I just think it’s cute.”

“What’s cute?” Morgan asked, getting in the room just behind the two of you.

Spencer, Hotch and JJ were already there discussing a consulting case the team had been working on. It started with Spencer and Hotch, and then JJ and soon after the break room became a makeshift conference room, like it always did, truly.

“Kelsen just bought her a cappuccino from her favorite coffee place.” Emily announced, getting the attention from the rest. Spencer and Hotch just went back to the files, but JJ standed up and stepped close to you to see it from her eyes.

“It’s not a big deal. I bring you guys sweet treats all the time. This is called being nice.” you pointed, seating on one of the tables and sipping from your beverage.

JJ and Emily just exchanged an amused look. Morgan took the seat to your right “So you don’t see it?”

You frowned “See what?”

“The heavy flirting. The lingering glances.” Emily started.

The completely unnecessary visits to our floor just to stop by at your desk. The excessive gifts.” JJ continued, looking pointedly at the cup you were currently sipping from.

“Oh. That.” you sighed.

“So you admit knowing he’s flirting with you?”

“Yes.” you stared blankly at Emily “So what?”

“So what? This ‘will they won’t they’ is dragging for too long.” JJ pointed.

“Wait, what? This isn’t… There isn’t… It's just harmless flirting.”

“Harmless flirting? Is this even a thing?” Morgan stared at you skeptically.

“Yes. You flirt with someone knowing it’s never going to happen between you. Ever. We do it to each other all the time…”

“Ouch?”

“Besides,” you kept going, not acknowledging his interruption “He’s just playing nice. There’s no actual interest involved.”

“That’s not entirely true.” Spencer muttered from his place at the couch, his eyes glued to the interrogation transcription. He felt the weight of everyone’s gaze on him, and stared back.

“Spill it out, kid.” Morgan begged, sounding way too amused with it.

“He stopped me in the parking lot a few weeks ago.” he started, fixing his glasses and shifting in his position, slightly overwhelmed with the attention. “He asked for advice on… Well, you.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” you whispered “And what did you tell him?”

Spencer shrugged “I didn’t know how to turn him down so I just started rambling facts and research regarding the scientific reasoning behind human relationship and the development of courtship. He eventually dropped it.” he gave everyone a closed-lips smile, seemingly proud of himself and amused.

“Wait, do you do this often? Ramble facts just so people leave you alone?” Hotch asked, glancing up from the tablet for the first time after you got in the break room. Spencer’s cheeks flushed in a deep red.

“Uh… No?”

Hotch surprisingly gave him a tight smile, but before anyone could get more into the revelation, JJ turned back to him, her eyebrows scrunched up together “Why didn’t you help him?”

Relief flooded through Spencer with the change of subject. He relaxed back into the couch, leaning back and crossing his fingers together like he always did when he was ready to discuss something he was certain about.

“I’ve seen her body language. She’s clearly not into him.”

“How so?” Morgan asked, doubfunded.

“Her eyes never linger on him, everytime he leaves the room it’s like he stops existing. Every time they talk she smiles and makes sure she listens, but her torso is almost every time leaning away from him, like she’s ready to go as soon as the conversation is over. It’s not like she’s uninterested, it’s like… she’s not even considering him. Don’t get me wrong, I’m positive she likes him and enjoys his company. And her smiles, her jokes and her laughs are real, just not romantically-interested ones.”

“When did you become an expert in relationships?” Derek squinted his eyes at him.

“This is basic body language knowledge. Knowing about all this says less about my expertise on the subject than not knowing says about your profiling skills…”

“Watch it, kid.”

“He’s getting way too good at these jokes” Emily muttered, nodding in disapproval but her eyes a glint of pride “But back to the real issue?”

“The four cases of first degree murder that happened in the last month in Las Vegas?” you asked, not-so-subtly trying to bring the attention back to the case.

You knew where this was going, and you didn’t like it one bit.

“Why aren’t you interested in him?” she asked, deciding not to acknowledge your observation.

“Hmm” you stuttered “Uh, I-I’m not going to get all personal with my boss in the room.” you declared, taking a long sip from your drink to keep from looking at Hotch. You had no idea why you said that, honestly. Obviously, you had no problem getting all personal in front of him. Or under him. Or on top of him. Or even splayed out at your dining table, face down as up getting eaten out by him.

And he was aware of it. So aware that he had to bite the inside of his cheeks to keep himself from smiling and giving away your secret. It’s not like a single smile would be enough to give away everything that happened that night, but all it took was a little reaction for them to start picking up on you – they were profilers, after all. Hotch only decided he was safe enough from his own frivolity when he felt the taste of the blood from how hard he bit on.

“Oh, cut it. That’s hardly the reason.” JJ stated, crossing her arms.

“Wait, can we focus on the fact that there must be something incredibly wrong for her to be so uncharacteristically shy about this subject?” Emily pointed, narrowing her eyes suspiciously at you.

“I just… Don’t like being the centre of attention.” you tried, and it was probably the first time those words came out of your mouth.

“Ha! Busted!” Emily laughed, banging her palm against the table in excitement and pointed at you, accusingly “That’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told us.” 

“Do you have any dirt on him? Like something so disgusting that you can’t even think about…” Derek tried, his smirk growing up at each word.

“No! Not at all!” you exclaimed, started to get pissed off.

“He’s hot, you can’t deny it.”

“He is.”

“He’s nice. Are you the kind of girl who always ends up running away from the guys who are ‘too nice’?” Emily groaned.

“No, I’m not. There’s nothing wrong with him.”

“He’s hot, he’s nice…” JJ listed, once again ignoring your statements. You huffed in annoyment. “He’s tall, he’s responsible, he’s your age, he’s… Wait.” she stopped mid sentence, her face contorting in a smug smirk that almost made you hide under the desk.

You didn’t even realize you were holding your breath until your lungs started to burn along with your cheeks.

JJ had her gaze locked onto yours from across the room, and it’s like she was reading every thought you ever had “We listed many things, many reasons to why you might not be attracted to him. You didn’t bat an eye to any of them… Until I said he’s your age. That’s the problem, right? You don’t like guys your age.”

The thought of banging your head against the table repeatedly until it split open didn’t sound that bad.

There were a thousand ways this could get worse.

“And judging by the fact that she didn’t want this to be discussed in front of Hotch, I’m assuming she’s into older guys.” Emily stated, exchanging fist bumps with JJ and Morgan.

“Don’t tell me you have a little crush on bossman over there. Or is it Rossi? Just tell me this: is Strauss also your type, yes or no?” 

Oh dear god.

You fucking knew it.

There were a thousand other ways this could've gotten worse. And that’s one of them.

“Morgan..” Hotch scolded, immediately interrupted by you.

“I have a gun, you motherfu…”

“Enough!” Hotch raised his voice, standing up. “Threatening to use your gun on a coworker could get your license removed.” he raised one eyebrow at you.

“Fine. I’ll kill myself then.” you dramatized, hiding your head under your folded arms over the table.

“This isn’t, in no way, shape or form, any better. Morgan, cut it out.” you heard him scold. “I have a meeting with the director now. Later I’ll meet you all, and the rest of the team, in the conference room. To discuss the case.” He added, eyeing everyone as if to dare them to go against his commands.

Said ‘all’ muttered some kind of agreement, to which you just groaned something unintelligible.

If you’d raised your head a few instant sooner, you would’ve caught the way Hotch’s lips turned into a discreet smirk just before he left the room. Way too pleased with himself. So damn pleased his mind had no space for worries and guilt.

taglist

@winyourheartemma

@midnghtprentiss

@s0urw00lf

@camihotchner

[2tarbell]

do u think sneakylink!rafe would accidently (prob drunk/high) spill to his friends or even jj that he is hooking up with reader?? and does it all get ruined when he does 🥺

oooooh, i like ur brain hang on…

sneakylink!rafe is so aware of how pogue!reader feels about ANYTHING. like that boy is so tuned into her emotions. i’m talking looks across parties, too long hugs, like crazy intense eye contact (definitely NOT casual but i digress…..) he knows yapping all about it would ruin anything they have or might have. which is why he makes sure to steer clear of jj when he’s fired up (read: drunk or high) because one crazy look and rafe knows he wouldn’t be able to hold it in, “yeah, well that’s why i had yo girl on her back and—“

he can’t let that happen, though. he wants to be… better. definitely has nothing to do with her… :3

but… he’s also a sucker for validation. so, he wouldn’t ever brag about her by name just… very vaguely in that kook way. just so his boys know he’s getting some. he’s intoxicated, but always thinking of the consequences of not having their little meet ups anymore. talking ‘bout “nahh, you’ve never had pussy like this, bro, trust.”

and when his friends are all like who who who, what does she look like, do we know her, etc etc. he just shuts them down. saying it’s none of their business. the switch up raises slight suspicions but nothing he can’t talk his way out of!!!

definitely brags when he’s…. inside of her. that’s really how he gets the itch scratched. because (despite what reader thinks) he’s in actual awe of this girl and that she’s “wasting her time” on him, he’s gotta let it be known somehow! the dirty talk is fr unmatched. (“too fuckin’ pretty… this shits mine, yeah? s’all for daddy?”)

best and worst part is, reader is all glowy and all the pogues think it’s just because jj is laying it DOWN. reader just nods and smiles “yup…. 🙂”

[tyunn1ngz]

never seen a discussion of a threesome w taebin i think that should change

[maybanksprincess]

hi lovelies! ◡̈ — i just recently hit 1k followers and i cannot put into words how grateful i am to have all one thousand of you following me!! im so glad that you all love my writing and chose to follow me, and i want to celebrate to show how grateful i am!! (send ideas pls <3)

[scripturiaent]

insecurity gnaws at him , it has for as long as he can remember . he scoffs at her , fingers raking through his hair . " i'm listenin' but i have fuckin' eyes, kie. " of course it wasn't meant to be them. he could never be enough for her , could he . " i see the way you look at him. okay ? " he's had a few drinks , already putting a damper on the party.

closed starter for @scripturiaent

"Can you just listen to me?" Kiara couldn't help but snap. She didn't want to be angry with JJ, but she also didn't think he was being fair. "What is with this jealousy bullshit?"

[local-loudmouth]

->☆ MASTERPOST ☆ <-

Finally remaking this long ass Masterpost-

HEY!! HI!! HELLO!! Welcome to a stupid ass blog, purely made for entertainment and interaction!! My name is JJ, the owner of this blog! You can also call me Mike-!! :D

also gang I have a WIFE!! Insane, right?

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(credit to my bro @schnozzlebozzle for the drawing! Love ya bro :D/p) ☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Uhhhhh currently questioning my gender but I think bigender may be. Correct. I dunno Honeslty

Sexuality is still a little in the air but I think bisexual and possibly demiromantic

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

FANDOMS IM IN:

— TMNT

— LMK

— TOH

— RAMSHACKLE

— TADC

— SWEET TOOTH

— BOBS BURGERS

— TCHS AND CUPHEAD: DONT DEAL WITH THE DEVIL

— BEETLEJUICE

— EPITHET ERASED

— vel and Jay fan club. My own small little world<3

— FOPANW

— Bendy and the ink machine!!

— DEAR EVAN HANSEN

— INANIMATE INSANITY

— LOVE, SIMON

— LOVE, VICTOR

— SQUID GAMES

— WIN OR LOSE

— KREW (iykyk)

— SCHOOL OF ROCK (apparently)

— school bus graveyard

— k-pop demon hunters

And probably more I’m forgetting-

AU’S AND STUFF!!

(ONGOING BUT CURRENTLY ON HOLD!!)

The 4 turtles work peacefully at a competing hotel with the battle nexus, with their beloved father. But one day, everything spirals out of control! And their worlds get flipped upside down! Follow Leo, Donnie, Raph & Mikey on the journey of a life time! And who knows, they might meet some friends along the way, or maybe more…

Chapter one: The beginnings

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Stuff abt this au will be here, and here-!

(This au is currently on hiatus, and might not come back.)

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Cruise OJ au 🚢 🌊🍊

what if oj didn’t invest in a hotel? What if he bought a cruise? What if..things didn’t go as intended?

CRUISE OJ MASTERPOST

Other blogs!

@/ask-olive-huchers, @/ask-miss-maple-leaf, @/ask-christopher-harrison, & @/ask-adi-huchers (ramshackle OCs)

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@/candy-for-the-win, @/no-ditches-no-bitches, @/professionalidolizer (canon ramshackle characters)

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

@/neon-of-the-leon, @/antonios-pizza-number1-fan

(TMNT blogs)

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

@/emerald-dragon-girl, @/six-eared-shadow

(LMK blogs)

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my personal favourite @/mrfortexdex

(my oc!!)

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@/ yuwenspecialll

(win or lose yuwen blog!)

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@/graand-slamms

(baseball ii blog!)

there are other blogs, but unfortunately they are abandoned bc uh-..they just are lmao.

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(Oh my god I can’t tell you how long this stupid intro took please kill me-)

Also reminder that I am a MINOR. So no nsfw and “spicy” asks and such. They make me extremely uncomfortable.

Also STOP HARASSING MY MOOTS!!!!

[cosmicalily]

୨ৎ @cosmicalily presents . . . 100 idols vs 1 gorilla (a categorised list)

author's note: btw when your faves are enlisting in the military this is actually what they're training for.

୨ৎ initial distraction team:

1. jake (puppy aegyo) 2. soul (spider walk) 3. beomgyu 4. yeosang (specifically the sexyback dance) 5. jin (supertuna performance) 6. chuu (gay allegations) 7. sunghoon (get sunghooned) 8. fireworks era seonghwa (side part) 9. matthew (moo) 10. jay park (mommae solo)

୨ৎ first line of defence:

11. mingi (just so he can say 'fix on' to start the battle) 12. taehyun 13. san (ice on my teeth) 14. jennie 15. miroh changbin 16. bob ryujin 17. bob chaewon 18. momo 19. jihyo (talk that talk dance break) 20. whip-nae-nae taehyung 21. debut era yoongi 22. pink haired giselle 23. wooyoung (courreges show) 24. jiung (gimme my money) 25. jimin (blonde bowl cut)

୨ৎ second line of defence:

26. nayeon 27. huening kai 28. jay 29. yeonjun (ggum) 30. yunjin (smart era) 31. johnny 32. jeongyeon 33. yuqi (beggin cover) 34. ginger haired jiung 35. momo (go hard dance break) 36. jongseob (with skateboard) 37. intak 38. solar (with her twink dancers) 39. debut era jungkook 40. jj (with her bob)

୨ৎ backup distraction team:

46. microbangs jeongin 47. hwasa (in red leather) 48. jessi 49. jongho (apple breaking) 50. predebut felix 51. predebut jisung 52. predebut niki 53. s.coups (justin bieber edit) 54. momo (likey dance break) 55. heeseung walk

୨ৎ visuals team:

56. maki 57. mullet hongjoong 58. chaeyoung (look at me stage) 59. hyunjin 60. joy (peekaboo era) 61. theo (elsa costume) 62. yuna (u-go-girl cover) 63. blonde winter 64. irene 65. kazuha (antifragile long black hair)

୨ৎ negotiation team:

66. wonyoung (who would say no to a baddie) 67. jisoo 68. haerin (probably would meow) 69. soobin (just yaps a lot) 70. minnie 71. danielle (curly haired) 72. hoseok (he's our only hope!)

୨ৎ operation leaders:

73. bangchan (also a translator) 74. woozi 75. chungha

୨ৎ verbal attack team:

76. blonde seungmin 77. soyeon (unpretty rapstar) 78. i-land sunoo 79. minho 80. keeho 81. wooyoung 82. hoshi 83. shuhua 84. jeongin (with ugly shoes) 85. chaeryeong

୨ৎ attack strategist team:

86. moonbyul 87. wendy 88. lily (book club) 89. jungwon 90. sana (shy-shy-shy) 91. yunho 92. ningning 93. mark (everything's a possibility) 94. tzuyu 95. vernon (do you want to live to 100?)

୨ৎ sponsors:

96. jyp 97. namjoon 98. lisa 99. gdragon 100. lee hyori

tagging my whole taglist anyways because this is PRIME content: @hyunjiiza @velvetmoonlght @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @btch8008s @heartsbyani @ellemir2404 @bellarellasstuff @starsinagreenskyxx @ashtxrie @pigeonseatmayo @modesttiger @woozarts @zelinkcrossing @urlocalmultigroupfan @shuuporanglinos @lezleeferguson-120 @r1nstaaa @bibibahngg @jessxxxfwd @koiiqqqq @lenfilms @yaniblvsh @dearmini @ilovedallywinston @0sunshinecryptid0 @peskybirdysya @channieschocco @straberieslee @hanverse-recs

[reidrum]

reidrum turns 1! 🎂

happy reidrumversary to all who celebrate!! thank you for being here and reading my silly little fics <3

as a little celebration i'm going to be posting a bunch of fics (hopefully) based on the requests i have throughout the month, you totally don’t have to but if you still want to send one in feel free to do so!

taking spencer reid requests for: ➼ doctor!reader ➼ unit chief!reader ➼ sunshine!reader ➼ greenaway!reader or just anything in general orrr send a headcanon/thoughts about them to my inbox, i would love to yap about my girls! also taking bucky barnes / bob reynolds requests!

in the meantime, here’s a little top five for you but it’s just my favorite fics i’ve written:

REIDRUM WRAPPED

1. exile ᝰ.ᐟ in which you and jj are held hostage in truth or dare 2. how you talk so sweet (18+) ᝰ.ᐟ in which spencer helps drunk you after a night out, amongst other things 3. you can let it go ᝰ.ᐟ in which spencer makes it feel a little less heavy 4. fifteen minutes (18+) ᝰ.ᐟ in which you and spencer don't make it out the door on date night 5. darwinism ᝰ.ᐟ in which you're not the same after a year away from the bau

honorable mentions to: wine or wine not, hypothalamus, and the prophecy

i’ll be using the tag #reidrumversary to track all of them and i’ll make a masterlist of all these fics soooon okay love you mwah <333