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[visualkimbop]

The Three Times Harvey Specter Couldn't Find a Legal Loophole for You

on ao3

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Suits (US TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Harvey Specter/Reader, Harvey Specter & Reader, Harvey Specter/You Characters: Harvey Specter Additional Tags: AFAB, Female Reader, angsty, No Smut, Fluffy Ending, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff and Angst Summary:

or the three times Harvey Specter forgot to lawyer up against his feelings

When Harvey Specter Knew He Hated You

Harvey Specter, a master of control in the realm of high-stakes corporate law, was a man of calculated moves and measured words. His confidence, wielding it like a weapon, dominated both the courtroom and the boardroom. However, this fortress of control was about to face a challenge it had never encountered before, as you stepped into his office.

You were a new hire at Pearson Specter, a lateral move from a rival firm. Your reputation preceded you—sharp, ruthless, and with a knack for finding and exploiting weaknesses. You strolled into Harvey's office with a stack of files and a smirk, tossing them onto his pristine desk.

"These," you said, your tone dripping with disdain, "are the cases you've been mishandling. Thought you might need a hand."

Harvey's eyes narrowed, anger flicking through his usually composed demeanor. "I don't need your help," he replied coolly, though the muscles in his jaw tightened.

You shrugged nonchalantly. "Suit yourself, Specter. Just trying to save this firm from your inevitable screw-ups."

From that moment, a line was drawn. You were the storm disrupting his perfect order, the wild card he couldn't predict. And yet, behind the irritation, there was something else. Harvey was distracted by how you carried yourself, the confidence in your stride, the fire in your eyes. He hated that he noticed these things. He hated that he noticed  you.

As you continued to push him, questioning his decisions and pointing out his mistakes, the office crackled with tension whenever you were in the same room. The clash between you was a thrilling spectacle, setting hearts racing and breaths held. Harvey, despite his infuriation, couldn't help but admire your audacity.

One night, after a fierce argument that left him seething, he found himself alone in his office, staring at the city skyline. He hated you. He hated the way you made him feel out of control, the way you got under his skin. But as he ran a hand through his hair, he realized there was more to it. He hated you because you made him feel something he wasn't prepared for. You made him feel alive.

 -------------------------------------

When Harvey Specter Knew He Liked You 

Months had passed since you first started at Pearson Specter. The initial animosity between you and Harvey had become a fixture of office life, a dangerous dance everyone watched with bated breath. But beneath the barbs and the battles, a subtle shift was taking place, a change that was about to redefine their relationship.

One evening, after hours, you were both working late on a high-stakes merger. The office was quiet, the usual hum of activity replaced by the soft rustle of papers and the distant honk of city traffic. You were seated across from each other, the table littered with documents and empty coffee cups. It was a rare silence between you, a truce called by the necessity of the task.

Harvey glanced up from his papers and found you staring intently at the financial statements, a furrow of concentration on your brow. You were chewing on the end of a pen, a habit he had previously found irritating. But tonight, there was something endearing about it, something human.

"Do you ever take a break?" he asked, his voice breaking the quiet.

You looked up, surprised by the sudden question. "Do you?"

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Touché."

For a moment, you just looked at each other, the usual tension replaced by a strange, unfamiliar warmth. Harvey felt a flicker of something—something that wasn't anger or irritation. It was a connection, a shared understanding of the relentless drive that fueled both of you, a bond that was slowly but surely erasing the lines of animosity.

"We're not so different, you and I," he said softly, surprising himself with the admission.

You raised an eyebrow. "Is that your way of saying you respect me?"

"Maybe," he replied, leaning back in his chair. "Or maybe I'm just saying I don't hate you as much as I thought."

You chuckled, a sound that sent an unexpected warmth through him. "High praise coming from you, Specter."

As the night wore on, the conversation flowed more easily. You talked about cases and shared war stories from your careers, and gradually, the animosity between you began to fade. Harvey found himself irresistibly drawn to the brilliance of your sharp mind. Every conversation with you was a mental duel, carefully chosen words and arguments meticulously constructed. You didn't just participate in discussions; you dissected them, exposing every flaw and weakness with surgical precision. Your quick wit was a double-edged sword, both exhilarating and infuriating, always ready to slice through pretension and pretense.

You challenged him in ways he had never imagined possible. You questioned his strategies, dismantled his logic, and forced him to reconsider his position. It was maddening, infuriating, and yet utterly captivating. Harvey had built his career on being the most intelligent person in the room, but with you, he had finally met his match. The way you made him think and pushed him to his limits was unlike anything he had ever experienced.

But more than that, he found himself drawn to the way you made him feel. You ignited a spark within him, a side that had been dormant for too long. Each interaction with you was a surge of electricity, a reminder of the thrill of the unknown. He began to seek out confrontations, the verbal sparring matches that left him both drained and invigorated.

Being around you was like walking a tightrope, the constant balance between admiration and aggravation keeping him perpetually on edge. But it was the best kind of edge, a razor-sharp line that kept him sharp, focused, and utterly engaged. You were a storm he couldn't control, a force he couldn't predict, and he loved every maddening, exhilarating moment.

He liked how you made him feel—alive, engaged, and on edge in the best possible way.

By the time the merger documents were finalized, the city was asleep. You stood up, stretching, and he couldn't help but notice how the soft light from his desk lamp played across your features.

"Good work tonight," he said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.

"You too," you replied, and for the first time, there was no edge in your tone, just genuine appreciation.

As you left his office, Harvey watched you go, a strange mix of emotions swirling inside him. He liked you. This realization unsettled him but also brought a small, private smile to his face. For the first time, he saw you not as a rival but as an equal, and he liked what he saw.

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When Harvey Specter Knew He Loved You 

It had been a year since you first stormed into Harvey's life, and things had changed in ways he never anticipated. The once fierce rivalry had transformed into a deep, complicated bond. The fire between you hadn't died; it had evolved, growing into something richer, more profound. Harvey looked forward to your verbal spars, the late-night strategy sessions, the quiet moments of unspoken understanding.

But it wasn't until one rainy evening that he finally understood the depth of his feelings.

You had been working together on a particularly grueling case, a wrongful termination suit that had the potential to ruin a long-standing client. The stakes were high, the pressure immense. After days without sleep, the strain was showing on both of you. Tempers flared, voices were raised, but in the end, you won. It was a hard-fought and well-deserved victory, but the cost had been high.

As you left the courthouse that night, you both stood in the pouring rain, soaked to the bone but triumphant. Harvey turned to you, his heart pounding in his chest, and saw the exhaustion in your eyes, the relief. Without thinking, he pulled you into a hug, holding you tight as the rain poured down around you.

Surprised by the sudden intimacy, you stiffened at first, but then you relaxed, your arms wrapping around him. It was a moment of pure, raw emotion, a breaking of all the walls you had both built.

"I couldn't have done this without you," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the rain.

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him with a soft smile. "Likewise, Specter."

In that instant, everything became clear. He didn't just like you; he loved you. He loved the way you challenged him, the way you stood by him, the way you understood him like no one else ever had. He loved you for your strength, your vulnerability, your fire.

The realization hit him like a tornado, powerful and undeniable. He loved you, and it terrified him. But it also filled him with a sense of peace, a certainty he had never known.

"Come on," he said, taking your hand. "Let's get out of this rain."

As you walked away together, hand in hand, the rain poured down, washing away the remnants of the battle you had fought. Harvey's grip on your hand tightened as if he feared letting go would shatter the fragile reality you had both stumbled upon. Each step was heavy, the weight of unspoken words and buried emotions pressing down on him.

Harvey knew he had found something rare, something he had spent his entire life pretending he didn't need. The journey from hate to love had been a relentless storm, each clash and conflict carving deeper into his soul. The pain, anger, and longing had all melded into a searing ache that refused to be ignored. The turmoil you brought into his life was unlike anything he had ever experienced, a whirlwind of emotions that left him terrified and exhilarated.

He glanced at you, your face illuminated by the faint glow of the streetlights, the rain dripping from your hair. You looked back at him, and he saw the reflection of his tumultuous feelings in your eyes. In that gaze, he truly understood the depth of his love for you. It was not the gentle, easy love he had heard about in stories. It was fierce and consuming, a fire that burned with an intensity that threatened to consume him whole.

Harvey's heart ached with the realization that he had found his equal match in you. You had torn down his walls, exposed his vulnerabilities, and made him confront the man he indeed was. It was both a blessing and a curse, this love that had grown from the ashes of hate. He loved you with a desperation that frightened him, a need that went beyond physical attraction or intellectual challenge. It was a love that demanded everything from him and offered no guarantees in return.

The rain continued to fall; each drop was a reminder of the tumultuous journey you had endured together. As you reached the shelter of a nearby awning, Harvey stopped and turned to face you. The world around you faded into the background, leaving only the two of you.

"I don't know how to do this," he confessed, his voice raw with emotion. "I don't know how to be the man you deserve."

You reached up, cupping his face in your hands, your touch grounding him in the chaos of his emotions. "Just be you, Harvey. That's all I need."

The simplicity of your words broke something inside him. The walls he had built, the defenses he had relied on, crumbled in the face of your unwavering acceptance. He pulled you into his arms, holding you as if you were the only thing anchoring him to reality.

"I love you," he whispered, the words a lifeline in the storm of his feelings. "I love you more than I ever thought possible."

Your arms tightened around him, and he found a sense of peace he had never known in your embrace. The journey from hate to love had been tumultuous and painful, but it was worth every moment of anguish, every sleepless night, and every heated argument. Harvey had found not just a partner but a kindred spirit in you. You were his match in every sense of the word, challenging, grounding, and loving him in a way no one else ever could.

As you stood there, entwined in each other's arms, Harvey knew this love, this rare and precious connection, was worth fighting for. It was worth the heartache, angst, fear, and uncertainty. Because in you, he had found his equal, his partner, his love. And he knew, without a doubt, that he would do whatever it took to keep you by his side.

[visualkimbop]

in between | s.r.

pairing: post-prison!spencer reid x best friend!reader

summary: things are different, spencer's different. but how he feels about you is the one thing that has never changed. the only problem is now you have a boyfriend.

warnings: smut ! 18+ mdni!! lowkey cheating (lol), cursing, problematic reader, angst.

a/n: i am never beating the star has a cheating kink allegations!! I DO NOT I PROMISE... but yeah... this got away from me, i am touch starved and ovulating. reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses.. PLEASE SEND SPENCER REQUESTS!!!

wc: 5.9k

"I just can't come between 'em, they got their own thing I wish he'd stop pretendin', he won't let his phone ring."

Spencer was different after he got out.

It wasn’t like you could expect any less. Much less would change you for the worse and you knew that, but something about the way Spencer sat slumped over in his desk doing paperwork made your heart sink. He wasn’t as chatty as he used to be, he didn’t have that glimmer in his eyes, and his voice sounded hollow when he spoke. Under his eyes were permanent dark circles and his lips seemed to form a scorn whenever anyone wasn’t looking. Or when he thought no one was looking.

You sat at your desk, pink mug in your hands as you watched him. Watched his eyebrows crease, and watched him flip through the file in his hand as he pressed a free hand to his temple, rubbing it in small circles. Spencer was on edge all the time and he looked like it. You could tell he made an effort with you to be kinder, gentler, but it always came out sounding rehearsed, his face betraying him like it always did. Spencer Reid, your best friend, was now a completely changed person and it killed you that you couldn’t stop it. 

Pushing yourself from your desk chair you approached him, a small smile on your voice as you gently spoke, “Hey.”

He tensed for a second. He still wasn’t used to people sneaking up on him. He made a conscious effort to fix his face before turning to look up at you, his body relaxing upon seeing your face. Placing the file down on the desk, he leaned back in his chair returning your small smile as he spoke, “Hey,”

His voice was quiet as he spoke. He was tired and up close you could just see how much. 

“You, um…” your voice trailed off making his eyebrows raise, “are you okay?” The question was stupid, you knew the answer but it never hurt to ask. Your fingernails gripped the mug handle as you swallowed down the nerves, “are you sleeping?”

Spencer thought of how to answer truthfully. If he was being honest, of course, he wasn’t okay, he hadn’t been okay for a while, but instead, he just gave you a slight nod, “Yeah, I’m fine.” His voice was a little raspy as he spoke, but he turned away from you and back to the file on his desk. He was lying and you both knew it, but you weren’t his therapist and he was not about to open that can of worms on a Thursday. 

“Of course, yeah,” you awkwardly mumbled, “you know I’m still here, right? I’m still me, you know? You’re my best friend… and I, um, miss you.” 

He turned back to you, his face visibly softening as you spoke. He knew you were there for him, you were the only person he would allow to be there for him. He just didn’t know how to open back up or ask for help. Instead, he nodded his head, “I know… and I miss you too.”

“Spence, I-” you spoke but were promptly cut off by none other than Luke Alvez placing a hand on the small of your back as he whispered to you, “We still on for tonight?” 

It felt too intimate, too personal for Spencer to hear, but worst of all it made his stomach sink. He clenched his jaw tightly as he watched the interaction and took note of how you leaned into him. You were comfortable with him, comfortable enough that you should have told Spencer long before now. 

“Yeah,” you whispered back as you smiled sheepishly at Luke, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. 

“Great,” he smiled, removing his hand as he nodded slightly at Spencer before making his way over to his own desk.  

“You guys are going out?” He asked, his tone his own one-off attempt to keep his tone neutral and controlled, but came out more strained than usual. 

“Yeah,” you replied like you were ashamed of it, “it just kind of happened when you were… gone,” you rubbed at the back of your neck nervously, “I was just a mess without you and he was… well, he was there. There for me, I mean.”

Spencer kept his expression neutral, but he felt like a part of him was being taken from him, “So you’re dating now?”

“Kinda,” you squinted your eyes, trying to think of the perfect way to word it, “I mean, yes, like we haven’t labeled it but I think we’re exclusive. I don’t know we haven’t really talked too much about it.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” He said, his voice low and laced with bitterness. He had already felt like he missed out on so much and in a way became an outsider in a team he once called his family. But when it came to you, it struck a different chord. 

“When would that come up, Spence?” you replied, giving half of a laugh to soften the blow, “I wasn’t going to tell you about who I was hooking up with while visiting you in prison. It just didn’t seem fair and then you came back and didn’t seem interested in what I had going on. I just didn’t think you cared to know that.”

“Not interested in what you had going on?” he repeated back, the words sour on his tongue, “You think I didn’t care to know? I was in prison, that didn’t mean I stopped caring about you.”

“I know that, Sp-” he cut you off.

“I was in prison, stuck in a cell, for months thinking I was never going to get out and you were… dating,” he didn’t know why he said it, it just kind of spilled out. Like all the bitterness and resentment he had been feeling had finally reached the surface and was spilling over. 

“What was I supposed to do?” you whisper-yelled, “Stop my life forever because you weren’t here? It was hard for me, Spence, and god I missed you more than anything but I needed the pain to stop and he… he stopped it.” 

“Pain? You were in pain? Well, I spent 270 days in a 6 by 8 prison cell. I was the one in pain! You don’t know what it was like!” He knew he was wrong, but it was like all of his anger, pain, and frustration was coming out and he didn’t know how to stop it. He knew it wasn’t a big deal. Logically, he knew that. But right now, all he wanted to do was get it out.

You took a step back suddenly, forcing reality to wash over him as your eyes got slightly glossy, guilt painted all over your face, “I’m sorry… I thought you would be happy for me… I thought…” 

You turned your head from him slightly, avoiding his gaze as you shook your head, “Nevermind, I’ll um, I’ll see you around.”

Spencer watched as you stepped back and saw the hurt look on your face. The anger and irritation faded almost immediately and in its place was guilt and remorse. He had hurt the one person he never wanted to hurt. He reached out a hand to try and stop you from leaving.

"Wait... please don't go," He spoke in a softer and more vulnerable tone.

Your own expression softened at this, like he was a child reaching out for you, scared there were monsters under his bed. His hand linked onto your fingers gently. You could pull away if you wanted to, but didn’t, “What?”

Spencer held onto your hand gently as he stood up from his chair and took a few steps closer to you. He looked at you anxiously, knowing that he needed to explain himself. He didn't want you to leave, especially not like this.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to snap at you like that. I just... I feel left out. I felt forgotten," he explained, trying to keep his voice soft, but there was a hint of worry and jealousy in his tone.

"I know, I know, I mean I'm sorry," you replied, shaking your head, "you're my best friend, I should have told you."

Spencer sighed and gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

"No, I'm the one who should be sorry. I'm just... I'm on edge lately and I didn't mean to take it out on you. I shouldn't have acted like an ass to you."

He spoke in a sincere tone, his expression softening as he watched your face. 

You let out a small giggle, taking your hand back from him but gently nudging his shoulder, "You've been through a lot. you deserve to be an ass sometimes," she teased. 

Spencer let out a small breath of relief when he heard you laugh. It was like you were his again, and that part that had been missing found it’s way home.  He managed a small smile at your words, feeling a little lighter.

"Maybe, but not to you. You're probably the only person who I shouldn't take my anger out on. I don't want to lose you."

"You won't," you replied almost too quickly, "you won't lose me, I promise."

"You promise?" he asked quietly, his tone filled with vulnerability.

You lifted your pinky finger for him to take with his, "Pinky promise."

Spencer's lips curved into a small smile as he saw your pinky offered to him. He looked at it for a moment before linking his own pinky with yours and giving them a small squeeze.

"Pinky promise."

You smiled up at him, the bright smile you reserved especially for him as you clicked your teeth, “Well, I gotta… get back to paperwork, Spence, but I’m  glad you’re back.”

Spencer smiled faintly at your bright smile, that only you seemed to bring out in him these days. "Yeah, I should get back to work, too. But, um..." He paused for a moment, his expression growing more anxious as he spoke, “Tonight, with Alvez… do you think you could cancel?”

"Why? What's wrong?" you asked, a worried expression clouding your face as you lightly gripped his forearm. It used to be a comforting touch but right now it felt foreign. 

"I just-" He let out a slow breath and paused before continuing, "I just want to spend time with you, alone. I feel like we haven't really had time to connect since I got out, and I miss you."

He wanted to feel guilty, he really did but a part of him couldn’t. He did want to spend time with you, but he also just didn’t want your time to be taken up by Luke. 

“Oh, Spence,” you cooed, voice soft as you took your hand back, “of course I can cancel. My place or  yours?” 

Spencer's expression softened and relief washed over him at your words. He couldn't help but smile faintly as you agreed, feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders. He thought for a moment before replying, "Your place. I haven't been there in a while, and I need a change of scenery."

"My place it is," you smiled, "I'll go cancel with him right now,"

He watched as you walked over to Alvez and told him you were canceling, and then told him you were canceling for Spencer. Spencer couldn't hear the two of you but it looked like you were fighting. He was talking with his hands, rolling his eyes as you put up a defensive hand. It was clear he was upset and it ended with Alvez throwing down a file on his desk and storming away.

Spencer's expression grew a little more worried as he saw the interaction between you and Alvez. When he saw Alvez throw down the file on his desk and storm away, he felt a pang of guilt. He knew that you had canceled because of him, and it was causing problems between you and Alvez. He watched as Alvez walked away and he let out a slow, heavy sigh as he ran his fingers through his hair.

Later that night, you were in your living room, sprawled out on the couch watching tv as you heard the familiar knocks of Spencer on the door. Opening it up you gave him a bright smile, your PJs in full effect, "Good evening, Doctor," you smiled at him, taking a step to the side to let him in.

Spencer smiled faintly at the sight of you, dressed in your PJs. It was a comfortable and familiar sight to him, and it made him feel at ease. He chuckled softly at your greeting, "Good evening, SSA Y/L/N," he teased in return, his voice a little more relaxed than usual.

You giggled, letting him in, "On a last-name basis, huh?" you laughed again. "I say we watch Doctor Who Series Two, what do you think?"

Spencer chuckled as he walked inside and nodded in agreement. He closed the door behind him and made his way over to her couch, plopping himself down on one end, and resting his arm on the back of the couch. In a way, he hated how well you knew him. He hated how as long as he lived there would be one person in the world to know what he needed and that she would be putting on his favorite season of his favorite show and making it seem like it was her own idea. He hated that you existed and he couldn’t have you. 

"Sounds perfect. Doctor Who marathon it is," he replied with a smile.

"Perfect," you smiled, plopping down on the other end, remote in hand as you moved to put on the show, Spence, who is your favorite companion," you asked absentmindedly as you flipped through the catalog. 

Spencer chuckled at your question and thought for a moment before answering. He shifted around on the couch until he was facing you, his expression pondering.

"Hmm, that's a tough one," he started, his voice thoughtful as he considered the question, "I've always had a soft spot for Donna Noble. She was funny, and her chemistry with the Doctor was hilarious. But Ten and Rose... they'll always have a special place in my heart."

“Ten and Rose are..." you blushed to yourself, "They are endgame to me even though they clearly aren't endgame, but I don't care."

Spencer chuckled at your blushing as you spoke about Ten and Rose, and he nodded in agreement, "Right? They had such incredible chemistry. It's hard not to root for them. The way Ten always looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered. It was like he saw the universe in her eyes," he agreed, his expression growing fond as he spoke.

"Yeah," you smiled, your smile fading as you clicked on the first episode of series two. Spencer noticed your smile fade and he furrowed his eyebrows in concern. He leaned a little closer to you, watching your expression.

"Hey, you okay?"

He spoke quietly, his voice filled with a hint of worry.

“Yeah, it's fine. I just... don't like being in a fight with Luke. it's like why can’t we be more like... Ten and Rose..." you shook your head, "It's stupid, whatever.”

Spencer's expression softened as he listened to you, understanding your frustration. He gave you a reassuring smile and spoke in a gentle tone, "It's not stupid, you're allowed to feel that way. Comparing what you have to some fictional characters... it's natural to yearn for that kind of connection,” He paused for a moment, studying your face, before continuing, "Why do you think you and Alvez can't be like Ten and Rose?"

"I don't know," you shook your head, "it's like I can't do anything right. He's- and I shouldn't be telling you this, but when you were away we would get into so many fights over you. He'd be mad if I went to visit you, or if I was too upset about missing you and he just always kept insinuating that I was like in love with you or something,”

Spencer's expression faltered as you spoke. He could already sense Alvez was jealous of your close friendship, but to hear he had been trying to discourage you from visiting him while he was away... it angered him. But it was the implication that you may have feelings for him that made his heart skip a beat in his chest. But he pushed that feeling down for the moment, trying to focus on what you were saying, "He said you were in love with me?"

"Yea," you whispered, "but I told him it wasn't like that. That we were just friends but he didn't believe it. He still doesn't."

"Why doesn't he believe you?" He asked softly, his eyes studying your face.

"I dont know," you groaned, "I mean we don't have a conventional friendship, me and you, but it was like a piece of me was locked up with you in that prison. I just wasn’t me without you and he saw that and took it as me being in love with you," you replied, ignoring the implications of what that meant.

Spencer couldn't help the pang of guilt that went through him at your words. He knew that being locked up had affected you just as much as it had affected him. He understood that without him, you had felt like a part of you was missing, but it still broke his heart to hear it.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, his voice tinged with guilt, "I never wanted to make things difficult for you... or put you in a position like that."

"You didn't, Spence," you sat up quickly, putting your hand over his that was situated in his lap, "You didn't do anything okay, my... partner or whatever he is should be able to trust me."

Spencer's expression softened at your touch, and his heart skipped a beat as you covered his hand with yours. He swallowed down the lump in his throat, feeling a wave of emotions wash over him. Your words made him feel a little better, but he couldn't shake off the guilt entirely, "I know, but..." He trailed off for a moment before continuing in a softer tone, "I just wish I could make things right for you, y'know?"

"Not your job," you smiled in a desperate attempt to comfort him, "I'd rather have you in my life than some man who didn't believe me anyway."

Spencer sighed, feeling a mixture of comfort and guilt at your words. He knew that it wasn't his job to fix things between you and Luke, but he hated seeing you hurt or upset. He gave your hand a small, affectionate squeeze as he spoke, "I'm always going to be in your life, no matter what. You're stuck with me."

"Oh, kill me now," you joked, voice soft as you leaned your head on his shoulder, "Eternity with you though?" you whispered, "Not the worst thing in the world."

Spencer chuckled softly at your joke, and he couldn't help but smile as you rested your head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you a little closer to him, "Eternity with me, huh?" He repeated, a hint of amusement in his voice, "You sure you could handle it?"

"You sure you could handle it?" you giggled, softly pushing him down on the couch causing him to topple over into the couch. If this was anyone else he would have pushed you back immediately, tell you to not push him like that, but it was you. And you could do whatever you wanted to him. 

"Hey, hey, easy on the doctor!” Spencer protested jokingly as he fell backward into the couch. He looked up at you, a hint of playfulness in his eyes, as he sprawled out comfortably, "You're not getting rid of me that easy," he teased with a chuckle.

"Hey, hey, not easy on the doctor," you giggled again, leaning over on top of him, taking a pillow, and pretending to smother him as you climbed on top of him, straddling him. 

Spencer's heart skipped a beat as you straddled him, and he couldn't help blushing slightly at the sudden closeness of your body on top of his. His breathing hitched a little, but he tried to keep his expression playful. He pretended to struggle against you as you leaned over him with the pillow, "Hey now, watch it!” he protested, though his voice was filled with amusement.

You giggled as she pressed the pillow further into his face, "'m putting you out of your misery Doctor,"

Spencer laughed even louder, feigning resistance as you pressed the pillow further into his face, "Mercy! Mercy! I surrender!" He jokingly spoke in a dramatic tone, his voice muffled by the pillow. He tried to pull the pillow away from his face to look up at you.

Pulling the pillow off of his face, you smiled down at him, the laugh slowly dying in your throat as you realized the compromised position, “Oh.”

Spencer was panting slightly from the fake struggle, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he looked up at you. His gaze met yours and he felt a wave of heat wash over him as he fully realized your position, with you straddling him on the couch, hips pressed slightly down into him. He couldn't help but take in the sight of you on top of him, his heart racing.

"I, um… didn't realize,” you spoke quickly, your own self out of breath, panting as you began to move to get off him, "I'm sorry, shit." 

"No, no, wait., "Spencer's hand reached out quickly and gently grabbed your wrist as you tried to move off him. He swallowed, his heart racing a mile a minute. He couldn't deny the tension in the air or the way his body reacted to how close you were. This was straight out of a dream he knew he had, "Please... don't move," he whispered, his voice low.

Your breathing was heavy as you looked down at him, hair tousled and in your PJs, "Spence," you whispered, voice low. 

Spencer looked up at you, feeling his body hum with desire as he took you in. Your tousled hair, the sight of you in your PJs, it was all so real and intimate. It was domestic in nature and it made his heart do a flip. He swallowed, his eyes flickering up to meet yours. At the sound of you whispering his name, his grip on your wrist tightened just a fraction, "Yeah?” He whispered back, his own voice thick and dry. 

"Is that a gun in your pants or are you just happy to see me?" you joked, the tension still thick and palatable as it sat it the pit of your stomach.

Spencer's breath hitched at your joke, with the way he was reacting it was clear he hadn’t been touched in months. He let out a low, rumbling chuckle, the sound sending shivers down his spine. He shifted beneath you, your body still straddling him, and he could feel the weight of your body against him, the tension between you palpable, "Maybe it's both," he whispered, his voice low and thick with desire.

You breathed out, a shaky breath but still a breath, as you rocked your hips a little bit against him, desperate for friction, "I'm not a cheater," you whispered. 

Spencer's breath caught in his throat as you rocked your hips against him, and it took everything in him not to buck his hips in response. He tried to control his breathing, his body reacting to your touch almost involuntarily. He swallowed, his voice a little rougher than usual as he replied, "I know you're not. You've never been," He placed his hands on your hips, holding you in place lightly, his thumbs slowly stroking the bare skin of your waist under your shirt.

Your skin burned where his hands met your hips. It made you want to do more. It made you want to continue, a soft sigh that sounded like a moan falling from your lips, swallowing quickly as you stared down at him. 

Spencer's heart raced as you let out that small sigh, a mix of a moan, and he couldn't deny the effect it had on him. He could feel the heat building between you, the tension in the room almost tangible, "You're driving me crazy," he breathed out, his thumbs continuing to stroke your skin, his touch growing a little firmer, more possessive. His pupils were blown out, soft brown eyes looking up at you like it was you who held the universe in your hands. 

"I'm not-" you shook your head, "not doing anything," you whispered, hips grinding down slowly as you took another deep breath in. Your brain was telling you to quit while you were ahead, but every bone in your body seemed physically incapable of stopping. 

Spencer's breath hitched at the feel of your hips grinding down against him, and he involuntarily tightened his grip on your hips, his fingers digging into your soft skin. "Oh, you're doing plenty," he whispered back, his voice low and laced with barely suppressed need. "You have no idea what you're doing to me, do you?”

"No," you whispered, hands trailing up his chest as he held you, "explain it to me."

Spencer let out a ragged breath, trying to form coherent words, "You... you drive me crazy. You always have," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "The way you look at me, talk to me, touch me..." He paused, gathering himself, before continuing. "The way you're straddling me right now, your body pressed against mine, it's... it's like you were made for me."

You closed your eyes, grinding down harder involuntarily. It was okay to dry hump your best friend, right? That didn't count as cheating, right? Your mind tried to convince yourself this was okay, that you weren’t awful, but you were spurred on by his words, your panties dampening as he held you. 

Spencer groaned as you ground down harder against him, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he opened them again, his gaze filled with undisguised desire, "This... we shouldn't," he managed to say, even as his hands continued to grip your hips, pulling you closer to him, his body responding without even thinking, "You're with Luke... we can't... we can't do this," his words were a whisper, but even he could hear the lack of conviction behind them.

You ground down again, in tandem with him, "You're- you're right," you panted, "maybe we should stop," your own eyes fluttered closed. 

Spencer groaned again, his grip on your hips tightening even more, his body moving in time with yours, almost involuntarily. His heart was racing, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts as he tried to slow himself down, to think clearly, "Yeah, we... we should stop," he agreed, his voice a little hoarse, but his body betrayed his words, still rocking against you, needing the friction, the closeness.

"Oh god, fuck," you groaned, eyes fluttering closed as you rocked harder, faster, "Yeah... yeah... should stop," you repeated.

"Fuck..." Spencer couldn't help but curse under his breath, his hips bucking up to meet yours with each movement, his body on fire with need. He was losing his mind, his last shred of control slipping away as he felt the heat between you growing more and more intense, "We... we need to stop... now..." he managed to breathe out, his voice barely above a whisper, his hands holding onto your hips like a lifeline, almost desperately.

"Mhm," you moaned in agreement but never stopped your movements. Instead, you continued to rock against him, ignoring how the spaghetti strap of your pajamas had started to fall off your shoulder, "So stop," you whispered, not stopping.

Spencer's eyes were fixed on the spaghetti strap that was falling off your shoulder, his brain nearly short-circuiting at the sight. He groaned, the sound almost guttural, as he tried to steady his breathing. "I'm- I'm trying, I'm trying..." He was trying, he really was, but with your body moving against him like that, your hips rocking in just the right way, he couldn't help but move with you, his body responding on autopilot.

"How hard?" you whispered, a giggle falling from your lips that turned quickly into a strangled moan, as his hands pushed your hips down into him. Spencer's grip on your hips tightened even more, his fingers digging into your skin, as he pushed you down into him. His breathing was ragged now, his body trembling with need, as he felt you against him.

"So goddamn hard," he groaned, his voice strained, as he tried to hold back. "You have no idea how hard you’re making this for me."

"I can," you panted out, "I can feel it… How hard it is for you," you giggled, eyes fluttering shut again as you gripped his shoulder. It was all him at this point, he was pulling you down into him, his hips bucking up. The friction all felt too good, too real, and you weren’t stopping. There was no way you could. 

Spencer was losing himself completely in the feeling of you against him, the sound of your voice, the way your touch burned through him. His head was spinning, his body on fire with need and desire. He pulled you down harder against him, his hips bucking up involuntarily, the friction between you sending sparks through his body. He could feel his cock twitch in his pants, as he pulled you down closer to him, "God... you feel so good," he groaned, his lips brushing against your collarbone, his breath hitched and shallow.

When his lips touched you, you gasped, a loud moan coming from your lips that sounded too much like his name.  You wanted this and you wanted it desperately. It was almost pathetic how much you wanted this.

The sound of your moan, his name on your lips, it was like a punch to the gut. Spencer's grip on your hips involuntarily tightened, his body reacting almost violently to the sound, the need in your voice. "Say it again," he groaned, his lips moving against your skin, leaving a trail of hot, hungry kisses along your collarbone. "Say my name again."

"Fuck," you hissed back a moan, "Spencer," you practically chanted, hand gripping the arm of the couch behind him as you ground together, "Spencer," you chanted again, a lot less coherent as she bit back a moan. 

Each time you said his name, it sounded like a prayer, and Spencer felt like he was losing his mind. His hips bucked up against yours as he heard it again and again, the sound sending shockwaves through his body. He buried his face in your neck, his breath coming in hot, ragged gasps as he fought to keep himself together, "God, say it again," he begged, his voice thick with need and hunger, "Please, say my name again, just like that."

"Spencer- ah, fuck," you cried out, whimpering pathetically as your body moved for you, "Spencer."

Spencer was drowning in you, in the sound of you saying his name. It was the only thing he could hear, the only thing he could focus on. He was coming undone under you, his body reacting involuntarily to your touch and your voice.

"That's it," he breathed against your skin, his lips on your neck, his body moving with yours. "Just like that, baby, just like that. Say my name, say it again."

"Spencer," you cried out as his movements picked up, as they became more aggressive. You just kept chanting it like it was the air you breathed, like it was the only word you knew. Spencer was wild with need, overwhelmed by the sound of his name falling from your lips, the feel of your body against his. He gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your skin, as he pulled you down into him, moving against you with a desperate, frenzied rhythm.

"You're killing me," he groaned, his voice thick with desire and frustration. "God, you're going to kill me."

He buried his face in your neck, his lips moving against your skin, his breath hot and labored. He was losing himself completely in the moment, driven by pure need and desire, "I can't- I can't stop," he panted between kisses, his voice ragged and strained. "I need you, I need you so bad."

"Fuck, Spencer," you cried out, body almost shaking on top of him. If this was wrong, why did it feel so good?

Spencer was lost in you, undone by your words, your sounds, your touch. Your body shaking on top of him, the sound of his name falling from your lips was like a drug, addictive and potent. He clutched you tighter, his grip almost bruising, as he moved against you frantically, desperately, chasing the release that was building inside him, "That's it, that's it," he panted, his own body trembling, "Don't stop, baby, don't stop."

He felt the orgasm building inside him, a wave of pleasure and heat rolling through him, his body shaking as he pulled you down into him again and again, "Oh god, I'm- I'm gonna-"

The words were lost in a strangled moan, his body arching up off the couch as he found his release, his grip on you still tight. 

“Oh god, I’m,” you panted, crying out his name like a hymn, “I’m cumming,” you breathed out. It was all too good, like he was made for you just in this moment. 

Spencer's heart felt like it was going to burst as he heard you call his name, the sound like a prayer as your body trembled on top of him, "Yes, yes, yes," he whispered hoarsely, his arms holding you tightly against him, his own body still shaking with aftershocks from his orgasm, "That's it, baby, let go, let go for me."

Your body stopped moving, collapsing on top of him as you came undone, holding onto him like he might float away. He caught you against him as you collapsed on top of him, his body still throbbing with the aftershocks. He held you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you, his breathing ragged and labored. He nuzzled his face into your hair, his lips brushing against your skin, as he tried to slow his racing heart.

"That was... incredible," he panted, his voice still hoarse.

"That was..." your voice trailed off as you sat up quickly, realizing you were still clothed as she stood up and off the couch pathetically, "that was cheating, oh god."

Your sudden movement jerked Spencer out of his blissful state, and he looked up at you with wide eyes, his mind still fuzzy from the overwhelming pleasure, "Whoa, whoa, hey, calm down."

He sat up, his heart still racing as he reached for your hand, trying to steady you, "It's okay, it's okay, we're okay."

“No it’s not,” you whispered, pulling your hand back from him as he reached for you. It made his chest sting, but all he did was blink, “I think you should leave,” 

“What?”

“You should go, Spence,” you reiterated, eyes looking down at your feet, too embarrassed to meet his gaze.

“If that’s what you want me to do,” he spoke. His voice almost sounded broken and you didn’t like the feeling of being the one who caused it. 

“It is,” you replied quickly, arms folded across your chest. You turned away from him completely, ignoring the sound of the door slamming closed as he stepped outside.

[visualkimbop]

You're either a gay pirate girlie or a gay cowboy girlie.

There is no in-between.

[visualkimbop]

And then I get way too excited seeing the notification on my Google watch that I take an early break and go to a quiet part of the office nobody can (hopefully) find me and read the updated chapter, like it's a religion.

“We hope this email finds you well” babe, the only emails I hope find me well are the ones from Archive of Our Own

[visualkimbop]

I was never afraid before you showed up.

The Last of Us (2023 - ) 1.03 | Long, Long Time

@lgbtqcreators - pride creator meme - lgbtq+ relationships [1/8]

[visualkimbop]

Hey, remember when Jessica was downright making fun of Harvey for coming in early to work? And do you also remember why he came in early?

[visualkimbop]

[visualkimbop]

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader!Soulmate x Elijah Mikaelson PART 7

Word Count- 5.3k

Warnings- Swearing, stabbing, Elijah wanting to hold hands, witch trials

A/N- KLAUS NEXT CHAPTER BABIES!!!

“I don’t understand why you grown men keep dragging me into your shit,” I groan to Alaric as he parks his car. I cling to my seatbelt and regret ever answering my phone this morning. I really just have to throw my phone away at this point. 

“I don’t trust him around Jenna, Y/n. I have a bad feeling about the guy,” Ric says as he undoes his seatbelt and begins to exit the car. 

“That or are you just jealous?”

I raise an eyebrow and purse my lips at him and he leans down to stare at me with an annoyed look.

“Get out of the car Y/N.”

I watch as Ric makes his way from his side of the car to mine, but just as he’s about to open my door I press down the lock from the inside. I smirk at him as he tries to open the door but it doesn’t budge. He stares down at me annoyed and then presses his key fob unlocking the car. He tries to open the door but I mimic my actions from before and lock the car again. We continue doing this for another 2 minutes before Ric gets the better of me and throws open my door. 

“Seriously, Y/n!”

I huff and practically crawl out of the car. 

“For the record, I would rather jump in front of a train than be here,” I say matter-of-factly to Ric as we catch sight of Jenna and Elijah walking up a grass path together.

“For the record,” Ric waves at them and then turns his head towards me, “I don’t care.”

Once again I groan as we make our way towards Jenna and Elijah. I lock eyes with the latter and he sends me a warm smile. I don’t reciprocate and quickly turn my eyes towards Jenna. I can still feel Elijah’s eyes on me, as always, as we stand in front of Jenna and him.  

“Uh, Elijah, this is my friend,” Jenna, who seems to be annoyed, introduces Alaric to Elijah, “Alaric Saltzman. And you’ve already met Y/N,” Jenna turns to me and seems much more happy to see me.

Ric who can’t seem to catch a clue speaks, “Ya, I got your, uh, message about walking Elijah here through the old property lines. I thought I, uh we,” He gestures to me, “would, uh, tag along. You know us being history buffs and all. Where to next?”

An awkward silence follows for a moment before Elijah breaks it, “I’m pretty curious about the freed slave property owners. Some say, you know, the descendants of the slaves are the true keepers of American history.”

I am almost one hundred percent sure Mr. Suit and Tie has an ulterior motive but Jenna doesn’t seem to catch it as she tells him she has the stuff in her car and that she’ll go grab it. I watch as she walks away and then turn back to the two men next to me. Elijah stands about a foot's width away from me while Ric is to my right. Ric must’ve noticed Elijah’s staring as he moved himself in front of me. If you didn’t want me to be around Elijah why bring me here? Dumbass. 

I can still see Elijah from over Ric’s shoulder and the movement Ric made doesn’t seem to sit well with Elijah as a small twitch in his upper lip presents into a snarl. He drops back into a neutral look almost instantly. 

“So you’re one of those people on Elena’s list of loved ones to protect,” Elijah says to Ric. Even though Elijah is relatively shorter than Ric the aura Elijah protrudes makes up for it. Anyone could tell that even though Ric is trying to put up a macho front, he’s afraid of Elijah. 

“So is Jenna.”

Elijah smirks at Alaric and then shakes his head slightly, “You don’t have to be jealous. I don’t really pursue younger women,” Elijah’s eyes trail to mine momentarily, “Most of the time.”

Elijah turns back to Ric and they stare at each other for a moment before Elijah pats Ric on the shoulder, “It’s a joke, Ric, lighten up.” 

Ric rolls his eyes and nods. 

“Wait,” I speak and turn to Elijah, “Technically isn’t every woman younger than you? You know, since you’re like old. Really old. ”

Ric just brings a hand up to massage the tension between his eyebrows and sighs deeply, but Elijah lets out a small chuckle that sends shocks down my spine. 

“I guess you’re right Y/N. I am really old,” He mimics my tone with a small smile on his face. 

—

35 minutes. We’ve been walking in this dirty ass forest for 35 minutes. I should be in bed asleep right now. But nope, here I am following behind three adults as they talk about history. It’s not that I don’t like history, I do, it’s just that it’s a Saturday. I shouldn’t be learning things on a weekend. 

I half-heartedly listen to what Jenna is telling Elijah as cross over a bunch of fallen tree logs. Alaric helps Jenna over one, and I don’t miss the dirty looks she looks she shoots him, making me try to cover my giggle with my hand. The giggling instantly stops though when I see Elijah standing by the front of the log with his hand outstretched towards me. We haven’t talked in these 35 minutes since Jenna has been occupying him but that hasn’t stopped him from turning back every few moments to catch a glimpse of me, as if he thinks I’m just going to disappear into thin air. Honestly, I wish I would.

I’m not going to use Elijah’s help but realize that my clumsy ass will probably fall over the log if I don’t. So I lightly place my hand into his, which results in him closing his hand over mine. Locking our hands together. Our ideas are locked for a long moment before Ric clears his throat from the other side of the log. I quickly look away from Elijah and use his hand to get over the log carefully. I soon as I get over it though I wrench my hand away from his and walk over to Jenna who sends me a warm smile. 

“Seems like someone is fond of you,” She whispers to me as she raises his eyebrows suggestively.

I can already feel the redness making its way onto my cheeks as I stare at her horrified. Jenna just laughs at my face as she starts leading us farther down the trail we’re on. Sadly though, Alaric has occupied Jenna, which leaves Elijah to walk next to me. 

Elijah’s quiet for a moment, seemingly just enjoying my company before he starts speaking, “Is it true what Alaric says,” I turn to him confused, “That you’re a history buff?”

I sigh slightly as I shrug my shoulders realizing that just talking to the guy would make this little trip go by faster.

“I wouldn't call myself a buff,” I use my fingers to make air quotes, “but it’s also not something I dislike. Learning about how our world was made and all the small factors of why it was made are quite intriguing. I also like weird history.”

“Weird history,” Elijah questions me with a frown.

“You know, like the unexplained, or the odd things in history that many don’t understand,” At the still confused look on his face I continue, “You know like the dancing plague of 1518, D.B Cooper, or Oh! The lost colony of Roanoke. That’s probably my most favorite.”

Once I realized that I had just gone on a tangent I went to apologize to Elijah but when I look at him all I can see on his face is pure adoration. The type of adoration that makes the beating in my chest stops. He smiles at me and from being so close to him I notice the small dimple on his left cheek. 

“I understand now,” Elijah says, “You seem to be most interested in The Roanoke Colony. Why is that?”

I ponder his question for a moment, “I’m not sure, it’s just something I’ve always been drawn to. Maybe because of how mysterious and odd it is. I’m not sure, I know that some people say it was aliens or cannibalism but there isn’t a known answer. It’s amazing to me that so many people, an entire village can go missing and there are no clues. Other than the word Croatoan!”

Elijah nods his head along but the look in his eyes and the smirk on his face tells me he’s hiding something. Wait. Holy shit.

I whip around to him stopping us, “You know, don’t you! I mean you’re old enough but I didn’t even think you would…,” I stop and stare at him in awe for a moment, “You have to tell me.”

Elijah opens his mouth but then I shake my head and throw a hand up to his mouth stopping him, “Wait! No, what if you tell me and it ends up disappointing me.”

I go through all the possibilities in my head at what he could tell me and then fight myself on whether I should have him tell me or not. I can feel Elijah’s smile behind my hand and bring my hand back.

“Sorry,” I wince embarrassed. 

“No worries, I enjoy seeing you so full of life,” I blush at his words, “Would you like me to tell you?”

I think about Elijah’s question for a moment and then shake my head, “No. I think the reason I love that moment so much is because of the mystery behind it. I don’t want to lose it by knowing.”

Elijah seems pleased with my answer and nods, “Very well.”

We continue walking for another moment before Elijah chimes up again, “What else interests you?”

I shrug my shoulders, “Nothing much, I’m not a very interesting person.”

“I highly doubt that.”

I smile slightly at his comment, “Well I like reading. That’s actually something Elena and I have bonded on. I used to get bullied for being a book nerd but now having someone who likes it too is comforting.”

At this mention of Elena, Elijah’s smile drops slightly but then turns into a small frown. 

“I’m sorry that you were bullied for reading, as a literature connoisseur myself I find it quite depressing how reading has become something so rare in these past decades. What types of books do you read.”

I nod along to Elijah’s words until he asks what books I read. At this, I instantly get red and look anywhere other than him.

“You know,” I try to find a socially acceptable answer. Not really want to tell this 1,000-year-old man I spend my free time reading smut, “Literature.”

“Literature?”

Elijah looks at me with a smirk on his handsome features and I just nod and clear my throat, “Yep, literature. Just all the literature.”

“What about you? What literature do you like?”

Elijah laughs slightly at my change in subject, “Literature in general as well,” I roll my eyes at his joke, “But also I appreciate all types, Historical, the classics, thriller, even romance.”

“You read romance,” I ask surprised. 

He nods his head, “On occasion. There’s something so unique about how different authors portray love and devotion. Where some show it as a neverending, intense emotion others show it as one’s demise.” 

“And which do you believe?”

This question has Elijah pausing momentarily, thinking, “I’ve lived a long time, Elskan. Seen people start wars in the name of love, and seen people kill and die in its name aswell. To choose just one thought when it comes to the idea of love is something I can not do. What about you, what are your thoughts on love?”

“I want nothing to do with it.”

Elijah goes quiet for a moment at my answer. I face back forward and we keep walking in silence for another moment.

“I understand your reluctance towards it. But still young why cut off something like love at your age?”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes at his words. My age has nothing to do with my hatred and distaste for love. 

“Don’t tell me all that romance you read is getting to your head, Elijah,” I say to him slightly snarky.

“I’ve struck a nerve,” Elijah says as he nods his head. 

“Nope. No nerves struck here,” I tell him picking up my speed and walking away from him. He doesn’t have to try hard to meet my speed though as he falls back into step with me. 

“Even though there have been no nerves struck,” He tries to lighten the tension with a joke, “I must apologize for overstepping. As I’ve said before, making you uncomfortable is the last thing I’d ever want to do.”

I move my gaze from Jenna’s back, who is currently in a small argument with Alaric, and turn to look at Elijah. Once again his face has no signs of malice or ill intent.

“It’s fine,” I shrug at him, “Like I said no struck nerves.”

Elijah slightly laughs and then nods his head. We walk for another 5 minutes in silence, Elijah helps me over logs and rocks whenever we come up to one. 

“Y/N and I should be heading back now,” Alaric tells the group as we get to a clearing. 

I nod, happy to be getting out of these woods.

“Well, thank you Y/N for coming today, I’m sure you had more exciting things to do today,” Jenna smiles at me and jokes.

“Just sleeping. But it was nice to see you Jenna,” I reluctantly look over to Elijah who hasn’t left my side, “You as well.”

This has Elijah’s deflated shoulders rising again. He almost reminds me of a dog that is happy someone is finally giving it an ounce of attention. 

“It was a pleasure to be able to spend this morning with you, Y/N,” I’ve noticed that Elijah calls me by my actual name when other people are around. But, when it is just him and I, he uses that stupid nickname. 

I nod as I go to follow Alaric back to the car but stop and turn back to Elijah, “I guess I’m not one-hundred percent against love,” This perks Elijah up, “I mean I totally loved the dress I wore to the tea party.”

Elijah lets out a deep chuckle that rattles his broad shoulders, “You were the only one.”

I almost choke on my saliva at his words. Elijah’s smirk deepens and I put my lips together and nod my head fast.

“Well, um. I’ll be going now,” I don’t give Elijah time to respond as I speed walk past him and Jenna and grab Ric’s forearm pulling him roughly behind me.

“Keep up,” I whisper yell at him as we speed walk our way to the car. 

—

The original plan was that Ric and I would go on that stupid history walk and then after 30 minutes he would bring me back to my house, but of course, no one in this god-forsaken town follows any type of deal. So that’s why I am currently sitting in front of Demon and his “girlfriend,” and next to Ric who are talking about Elijah and how they don’t trust him. Thankfully Damon bought me fries so this whole trip hasn’t been an entire waste. I half-ass listen to their conversation but don’t really care so I don’t process a word they’re saying, at least not until Damon perks up. I’ve come to learn from my time in knowing Demon that if I see him excited about something someone is going to get hurt. 

So that’s why I follow his line of sight and see Elijah and Jenna walk into the Grill together.

“Ah, there Jenna with her new boyfriend,” Damon says. I know he’s just trying to get a reaction out of Ric but something about that sentence made my skin crawl. 

Damon calls over both of them. Jenna welcomes all of us with a smile and wave while Elijah trails behind her looking complacent. As always his eyes find mine and his complacent smile lightens. 

“So I hear you two had a meeting of the historical minds today,” Damon speaks to the two.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” Jenna smiles looking up at Elijah who is now looking down at Demon. 

“Well, as much as I’d love to continue this, I, uh, I’ve got papers to grade and a teenager to get home,” Ric gets up from his seat and he gestures to me. I frown as I see my fries and quickly grab a fist full and fill my mouth trying to get away with as many as possible, almost choking myself at the same time. The adults around me watch me with a mix of amusement and slight disgust but I don't give a fuck. I’m not wasting free food. 

“No, you know what,” Alex or Stephanie or whatever Demon’s girlfriend is named chirps up, “We should continue this. Let’s have a dinner party!”

Hell to the no. 

“Ooh, my girl. Full of good ideas,” Damon looks over to her before turning back to us, “I’ll be happy to host. Say tonight. Maybe?”

“It’s good for me. Jenna,” Where Alessia agrees Ric tries to disagree. 

“Yeah, I’m free,” Jenna talks over Ric. Yikes. 

“Will the lovely Y/N be there,” Elijah asks me and I try to tell him, “Hell no,” but the fries in my mouth have left me mute.

“Of course, she’ll be there,” Damon exclaims as if there isn’t any other place I’d rather be. I send him a nasty glare which earns me a wink from him. 

“Then it’d be a pleasure.”

Damon’s smile is all but welcoming as he responds to Elijah, “Great.”

This is going to be a horrible night. 

—

This is a horrible night. 

First I get a nasty grade on my modern art project. Not my fault since modern art is a crime against humanity. 

Then I try to find a dress for this stupid dinner and the only half-decent dress that I have now is two inches too short.

And then after I said fuck it put the dress on and finished getting ready. I went down to my car only to find out that my front tire had gone flat. Honestly in this case I was happy about it because I had a reason to cancel, but when I called Jenna and told her the “upsetting,” news she told me she’d come pick me up. Great. 

So now I’ve been sitting on my front porch waiting for Jenna. After waiting for fifteen minutes I was close to just calling it quits and telling Jenna the fries from earlier made me throw up on myself. But, right when I stand up a dark sedan pulls into my driveway. Wait. I know that sedan. Fuck me. Why the hell is Elijah here?

As if he could read my thoughts Elijah practically glides out of his car looking practically god-like in yet another five-thousand-dollar suit and smiles at me. 

“Good evening, Elskan,” Elijah walks up the walkway to stand before me, “Miss. Sommers so kindly asked me if I could escort you to the dinner tonight. To which I happily obliged.”

“Right,” I sigh as I stand up, “Let’s just get this night over with.”

I walk to Elijah’s car as he follows me, just like before he opens the door for me. I send him an appreciative nod and get in. After another moment we’re driving down the dark road towards the boarding house. 

“You look breathtaking, Elskan,” Elijah says to me from his position in the driver’s seat. 

“Thanks,” I turn to him and look at his usual attire, “You look the same.”

He chuckles, “Yes, you always seem to remind me of my attire. Thank you for that.”

“Always here to help.”

We drive in comfortable silence for the entirety of the trip until we get to the Salvatore’s driveway.

“How are you feeling about tonight,” Elijah’s tone is flat but as he looks at me his eyes are filled with what I believe to be suspicion.

“You mean do I think something is going to go bad?”

Elijah’s upper lip twitches, “Aren’t you a smart one? But yes, I am not going to threaten you Elskan. I would never do that, but,” At that, I’m tensing in my seat, “I need to know if your friends are planning something, unbecoming, tonight.”

At Elijah’s serious tone, I shake my head, “I don’t know anything. Promise,” Elijah doesn’t seem to be entirely pleased with my answer, and something in me wants to fix that, “But, I do know that Damon is not one to have friendly dinner parties so,” I look weirdly at him but speak in a strong voice, “Be on your guard tonight.”

“Thank you for your honesty Elskan.”

— 

Elijah and I stand side by side as he knocks on the front door. We wait only a moment before a smirking Demon opens it up,

“Thank you both for coming,” Damon says a little too nicely, “Y/N don’t you look adorable. Come on it!”

Elijah places his hand on my lower back, “Just one moment. Can I just say that if you have less than honorable intentions about how this evening is going to proceed, I suggest you reconsider.”

“No, nothing, nothing dishonorable. Just, uh, getting to know you.”

“Hmm, well, that’s good.”

“Yeah,” I watch this back and forth waiting for something bad to happen. 

“Because, you know, although Elena and I have this deal if you so much as make a move to cross me I’ll kill you and I’ll kill everyone in this house,” And there it is, “Except Y/N and Miss. Sommers of course. Are we clear?” 

“Crystal,” Damon eyes Elijah wearily. And then Elijah leads me into the house as Jenna enters the room.

“Jenna, wonderful to see you again. How are you?”

“I’m seriously getting whiplash from you man,” I whisper so only Elijah will hear. The only response I get is a slight squeeze to my waist as he pulls me closer and away from everyone else who has entered the room to see us. His right-hand stays resting on my upper hip. 

“Let’s eat.”

—

“I hate to break it to you, Damon,” Jenna says to Damon as she pours him a glass of wine, “But according to Elijah your family is so not a founder of this town.” 

“Hmm, do tell,” Damon responds. Damon sits at the head of the table sipping his wine as he stares at Elijah, who is currently sitting next to me on my right. Alaric sits to my left and Jenna and Abby sit across from us. I should really learn her name. There’s also this balding white man who is sitting across from Damon at the other end of the table but no one here seems to want him here.

“Well, as I mentioned to Jenna earlier a faction of settlers migrated from Salem after the witch trial in the 1690s. Over the next hundred years, they developed this community where they could feel safe from persecution.”

“Hmm, because they were witches,” Jenna chimes in.

“Yeah, there’s no tangible proof there were witches in Salem.”

“Andies a journalist. Big on facts,” Oh, so that’s her name. I liked Andrea more.

“Well,” Elijah sets down his fork and starts talking again, “the lore says that there was this wave of anti-witch hysteria. It broke out in the neighboring settlement. So these witches were rounded up. They were tied to stakes in a field together and, uh, burned,” Elijah says as if it’s something anyone wants to hear while they’re eating steak dinner, “Some say you could hear the screams from miles around us. They were consumed by the fire. Could you pass the,” He gestures to the salt and Ric passes it to him wearily. 

“I wouldn’t repeat this to the Historical Society,” Jenna says which has me wanting to roll my eyes at the mention of those bags.

“Maybe you should,” I say to myself but have seemed to catch the attention of the table. Shit.

“I’m just saying it would knock them down a peg, which is clearly needed,” I whisper out the last part, “Even though there is no proof of witches being burned at the stake during the trials. It was mostly done from self-drownings and using rocks.”

At my contradiction to Elijah’s statement he raises an eyebrow, “Is that so?”

“Self-drowning and rocks? How would that work,” Jenna questions with a slight stutter clearly having had a little too much wine.

“Well with the drowning it was more of a test,” I use fingerquotes at the word, “So to speak. The witch in question would be tossed into a body of water and if she was able to stay afloat she was condemned as a witch and was killed. But if she didn’t float, well. Y’know. So I mean either way it was just a way to punish women for being women. They used the rocks though to stone the people to death. Interestingly enough one of my ancestors was actually killed that way. R.I.P man.”

I laugh at my little joke at the end which has earned me a few stares from the people at the table.

“Ok, moving past whatever that was,” Damon says as he turns back to Elijah, “ So why do you want to know the location of these alleged massacres?”

Elijah thinks for a moment before smiling, “You know… a healthy historian’s curiosity, of course.”

“Of course,” Damon replies to Elijah who has already gone back to taking a bite out of his steak. I bring my glass of water to my lips and take a sip but start choking on it when I feel a hand gently grab mine from under the table. 

“Y/N! Are you ok,” Jenna exclaims from her side of the table as Ric pats me on the back, I put up a thumbs up and try to smile.

“Yep all good. Just,” I cough out a bit more, “went down the wrong pipe. Don’t mind me.”

Even though I almost choked, Elijah still hadn’t moved his hand from mine. Instead, his fingers have begun tracing shapes into my skin. I know I should feel disgusted, but I can’t seem to want to move his hand away. He look at me momentarily as if to check I’m ok. To which I send him a small nod. This in return makes him smile and grab a hold of my hand more firmly now.

Damon's standing distracts me momentarily, “Does anyone care for some cognac? I have a bottle I’ve been saving for ages.”

God, me, please.

“None for me, thanks. Nine bottles of wine is my limit,” Alaric says as he downs yet another glass of wine. Jesus dude, try water sometime. 

This has everyone standing from the table. Ok then, guess I’m done eating. 

“The gentleman should take their drinks in the study,” Anna says. 

“How 1950s of you Alice,” I smile at her sarcastically.

“My name is Andie,” She says back.

“Is that not what I said,” I smile at her as I walk past her into the study. I don’t even want to go in here with them but I doing it to stand on principle. And that I’m kind of an asshole. 

—

My fingers graze the dozens of books I walk by as Damon and Elijah converse behind me. It surprises me that Damon has so many books when he’s so dumb. Weird. 

“Are these Stefan’s?”

Damon spares me a moment's glance, “No, they’re mine.”

I hum. Weird. Maybe he just doesn’t have comprehension skills.

“So, let me guess, in the addition to the moonstone, the doppelganger, the lion, the witch, and the wardrobe… You need to find this witch burial ground.”

“Because I feel as though we’ve grown so close, Damon,” Elijah’s words have me chuckling as I flip through a book that seems to be at least one hundred years old, “I’ll tell you yes. Do you know where it is?”

“Maybe,” Damon’s answer has Elijah walking over to him, “Tell me why it’s so important.”

“We’re not that close.”

Damon getting rejected has me snorting which catches Elijah’s attention as he smiles up to me. He notices the book I have in my hands and speaks again to Damon.

“It’s quite a collection you have here. It is a funny thing about books. Before they existed people actually had memories.”

I go to make a snarky comment at Elijah’s words but Ric comes storming into the study. 

“Gentlemen,” I clear my throat and Ric looks at me, “And Y/N. We forgot about dessert.”

Addison comes over to Elijah and raises a hand for him to take, which has a nasty feeling starting in my gut. But before it goes too far Elijah turns to me instead and reaches out his own hand, “Y/N.”

I have to fight back a snort as we walk by Amelia Bedelia as Elijah leads me into the dining room where Jenna is.  

“Sorry, guys, dessert is taking longer than I thought,” Jenna’s words have me physically deflating, “I usually just unwrap food.”

Elijah leads me to a chair and moves it so I can sit down. He sits next to me and Audrey sits across from us. 

“So, I know this is a social thing but I, I would really love to ask you some more questions about the work that you’re doing here,” She asks Elijah who agrees. I’m quite interested in what he’s going to say since he’s created this big lie surrounding, Elijah Smith.

“Great,” She continues as Damon enters the room, “Oh, that’s so great. Ric, would you do me a favor and grab the notebook out of my bag?”

She instructs Ric as Elijah’s hand finds its way back to my hand.

“Elijah, did John tell you that he’s Elena’s uncle/father?’’

Damon’s question has me sitting up right.

“Huh?!”

I look between Damon and the balding man next to me and wonder how he was able to produce a girl as pretty as Elena. Also now I’m pissed and kind of sad no one has told me this before.

“Yes, I’m well aware of that,” Even Elijah knows?!

“Of course, she hates him, so there’s absolutely no need to keep him on the endangered species list.”

Now I don’t feel bad for thinking he looked like Charlie Brown earlier. 

Adeline says something to Ric but now my full focus is on Elijah's fingers which are now grazing up and down my hand that lays on my thigh.

I can hear Dead Beat saying something to Elijah but the words won’t focus as I try to calm my breathing. Elijah’s deep voice enters my ears as I hear him threatening the two men but the soft touching hasn’t gone away. 

I’m almost comforted by the feeling now until the once soothing feeling is replaced by his hand crushing my thigh. My yells are mixed with what I’ve just now realized are Elijah’s as he crunches up in pain. A loud scream escapes my lips as I see a dagger protruding from Elijah’s back and can only watch in horror and pain as Elijah’s once soft and light skin turns to grey and veining flesh. 

I blink rapidly as everyone moves around me but all I can focus on is Elijah’s dead body. Dead. Elijah’s dead. Oh god. 

I feel someone grab my upper arm and drag me out of my seat, “What’s wrong with you?”

My breathing halts. My vision goes black and, my body hits the floor. 

[visualkimbop]

harvey specter headcanons

if you know me, maybe just skip this one!

~~~

harvey specter, who always sends your favorite burnt orange-colored roses to your desk to remind you of how much you mean to him. 

harvey specter, who thinks you shouldn’t want a thing. who gifts them to you before you even mention that new pair of shoes or purse you would love to have. 

harvey specter, who rests his hand on your thigh whenever you’re seated next to each other. no matter the occasion, or where you are. 

harvey specter, who craves your touch every time a new obstacle comes up with a case. who just wants to be with you and forget about every trial and tribulation he has to deal with. 

harvey specter, who can’t fathom your obsession with listening to the same songs over and over again. but behind the scenes, he’s orchestrating VIP tickets for the both of you to go see your favorite artist, before the tour has even been announced. 

harvey specter, who is much older than you, and has to remind himself that the looks you get from strangers don’t matter. who has to pretend to laugh with you when the waitress refers to him as your father, but really, he’s wondering what the hell he’s doing with someone twenty years younger than him. 

harvey specter, who is afraid to tell you he’s in love with you. he knows it, but he can’t get over his fear that you’re going to leave him. he just hopes you won’t leave him before he gets up the courage to tell you, to reassure you that he does love you, that it wasn’t you, it was his own insecurities. 

harvey specter, who lets you get away with everything. when you want him to come home from the office at a reasonable hour, even though he’s drowning in work, he can’t resist the way you say his name when you call his cell and ask him to come home, pretty please, Harvey…

harvey specter, who pays your bills before you even know they’re due. and when you confront him and tell him baby, I have a job, I can pay my own bills just fine but he insists and says it’s his job to make sure you’re taken care of. and if you’re really that concerned about it, he tells you, I have a few ideas of how you can pay me back. 

harvey specter, who doesn’t know what to do when you’re sobbing in pain, feeling completely helpless, trying to ask what he can do to just make your pain stop. and when you’re feeling better, you think he sounds like your mother when he can barely get the words out to tell you I just wish I could take your pain on myself so you don’t have to feel it. it’s the most heartfelt you’ve ever heard him be. and as you gently hold his face as you kiss him, you reassure him that you’re okay, and him being there for you is more than enough. 

harvey specter, who is so art deco!! Lana del ray anyone plz

nsfw ones: (seriously if you know me please leave now)

harvey specter, who slips both hands underneath your dress after a date night at the most expensive restaurant in town. who grips your hips tight as he grinds you down onto him, eliciting a whimper of his name from you, to which he tells you say it again, and you do, over and over again until you’re cumming on his fingers not long afterwards.

harvey specter, who can barely keep up with your young, early-twenties sex drive. but goddamn he does. 

harvey specter, who can’t help but fall to his knees the minute you tell him you get off to the thought of it. who puts his pride aside to give you that satisfaction because he loves you so much. 

harvey specter, who is shocked by how forthcoming you are about your fantasies after being prompted. who wants to try all of them immediately, but has to remember that patience is a virtue.

[visualkimbop]

Their ability to communicate with just a nod of the head or eye movement is actually crazy.

[visualkimbop]

Their ability to communicate with just a nod of the head or eye movement is actually crazy.

[visualkimbop]

about you

one | two | three (soon)

pairings: harvey specter x reader

warnings: drinking; angst

summary: you left your boyfriend of five years a year after graduating law school to work in Los Angeles for reasons unknown to anyone but you. Now you're back in New York to the very firm he works in because you almost got implicated in a crime. What happens then?

a/n: might be a whole damn series because i enjoy slowburn and letting things sizzle. ALSO THIS IS VERY LONG. tell me ur thoughts pls

This was never your plan.

You had hoped you'd settle in L.A., find a lover and hopefully start a family, and live to see retirement. It was simple, monotonous, but at least it seemed peaceful. But life always throws a curveball to the people that seek tranquility. Life was never contented with simplicity.

It was the next day when you find yourself in front of your office with Jessica. You were a senior associate, having been practicing law over five years now and it gives you the advantage of getting an office rather than be with the first years in the bullpen.

"I am truly grateful for this, Jessica, but-"

"You came to this firm and personally met me here," Jessica cut you off, "You could've easily called me and have us meet somewhere."

Jessica noticed your hesitancy and shared a pointed look that meant a small part of you wanted this--which isn't entirely true. You wanted to work with her. You've always wanted to since you were starting out your career but that is all now in the mud with what went down between you and Harvey.

"You and Harvey need to talk it out, Y/N. You know you eventually have to," and with that Jessica left.

You heaved out a sigh while glancing at your office. It was well designed. A shelf sat on the left of its desk, already filled with trinkets and the view behind it was nothing short of breathtaking.

You took a step inside and placed your stuff. You haven't even finished unpacking your things on your new apartment and here you are, already working.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Your eyes were met with a short burly man who gave you a wide smile.

"I heard Jessica hired you yesterday. The name is Louis Litt," he smiled, a bit too much, "I oversee new hirees."

"Oh, wow. Good day to you, Mr. Litt," you smiled politely.

Louis tilted his head and squinted, "Has anyone ever told you look pretty today?"

This caught you off guard, "I'm sorry-- What?"

"Hey, Louis," the man turned behind to a red haired woman, "Jessica called you in her office."

Louis hesitated for a bit and glanced at you to give a tight smile before saying, "Nice to meet you, Y/N."

You gave him a strained smile and watch him walk out of your office. There was a little sigh that left you and for a moment, you forgot there was still someone by your door.

"Next time Louis creeps you, just say it directly to his face. He'll respect that," said the gorgeous woman.

"Thank you, Ms... ?" You raise your eyebrows in question.

"Oh, I'm Donna. I don't mind honorifics," she replied with a smile. She has this pointed look on you that she knows something you don't and you don't know whether this should bother you or not.

"Cool, then just call me Y/N," you gave her a small smile, "This is all too overwhelming."

"And why is that?" Donna stepped in to your office and stood by one of the chairs across from yours on the opposite side of the table.

"Let's just say Jessica's decision of hiring me was too sudden."

While talking, you were putting things out from your box and placing them where you want them on your desk.

"Donna," a voice cut your conversation, "What are you doing-- Are you here just to chitchat?"

Harvey sent you a glare that made Donna shift where she stood but you just rolled your eyes at him and continued arranging your stuff.

Donna cleared her throat, noticing the thick tension in the room, "I was just helping her settle in."

"Yeah, don't bother. She'll probably just leave without telling anyone."

That made you tick. Your jaw tightened as your hands curled into fists. Who the fuck does he think he is? At least you have the decency of restraint in your body that you don't want to cause a scene in the office with someone there to witness it. Fucking dick.

After Harvey said those words he left you and Donna in the room. You looked up at the red head and gave her an apologetic smile.

"It's okay, just Harvey being Harvey," she said before making a motion to the door, "I'll get to work now."

You just nodded, refusing to speak while anger was still simmering visibly in you. As Donna's figure retreated away from you, you let out a big sigh and inhaled deeply. This is how it's gonna be for the rest of your foreseeable career life.

--

"What the hell was that?" was Donna's greeting to Harvey when she caught up to him in his office.

Harvey stared back at Donna, not bothering to move his head away from his laptop, "I've barely had the time to breathe with everything happening in the firm and now this too? "

"You haven't told me about her."

"It isn't worth it."

Donna's head tilted as if a thought came to her pretty head, "You were in a long term relationship with her."

"Donna-"

"Let me guess, three years?"

Harvey glared at her which in turn she gasps, "four? five?"

"Get out. I have work to do," Harvey ignored Donna's reactions that only seemed to agitate him.

"Wow, the great Harvey is capable of commitment?" Donna joked, a smirk creeping to her face.

The man simply glanced at her and gave an annoyed expression, "Are you done?"

"Nope. Donna hates not knowing anything so I'm not stopping until I know everything," and with that, Donna left with a wide grin.

--

Working at Pearson-Hardman wasn't always easy--well, the only thing making it hard is Harvey. For the past few weeks you've managed to ignore him and you have your own cases to thank for that because it distracts you. The only 'interaction' you both have is through Donna, who oddly throws you a knowing look especially when Harvey is around.

"Okay, what is it, Donna?" You asked, arranging the fresh photocopied papers in your hands.

The two of you were in the copy room. Donna was still printing out her files while you were on the desk next to hers working.

"What is what?"

You sighed, "Oh, come on. You keep on looking at me like you know something."

Donna smiles, "I do know something. The sky is blue, clouds are white-"

You roll your eyes at her, "Sure, okay."

A beat of silence sat between you.

"Just ask away, jeez," your eyebrows furrowed and it only seemed to widen Donna's smile.

"How long were you and Harvey together?"

The question caught you off guard and you schooled your face from shock to annoyance but the red head had seen it, seen how the very mention of Harvey's name affects you (negatively).

"How would you know that?"

"Harvey rarely gets agitated by anyone, either someone who is equally like him or worse, or anyone he's been in a relationship with."

"Ah," you nodded in defeat, "I won't answer that, it isn't relevant to our work here."

You were not in the mood to talk about this nor would you ever want to. You want it buried and forgotten. But alas, it always comes back, one way or another.

"I'm not buying it," Donna placed her hands on her hips, the work in front of her long forgotten as she turned to you.

"What?"

"Your whole 'I don't care' agenda," she tilts her head to the side, "I've seen you try not to interact with him, keyword try."

Donna was more observant than you had hoped, "Fine, we were together in law school. Happy?"

She looked at you for a while and grinned, "Want to talk over a couple of drinks?"

"Oh my God, yes," you exasperated, shoulders slouching. You were dying for a reprieve from this reality that keeps you shoving in.

--

The music surrounded you as you took a big gulp of whatever Donna had ordered. It was a weekend and both of you decided to spend it with drinks and maybe regrets afterwards.

The alcohol burned in your throat, it's taste leaving a bad impression on you but the way it numbed your mind a bit was soothing.

"Take it easy, Y/N. The night is still young!" Donna laughed at your composure.

"I needed that," you said, placing the shot glass on the table between you.

Donna made the arrangement, having known New York moreso than you. She booked a booth for the both of you, not wanting any uninvited men to sit with you.

"So, how did it happen?"

"Straight to the point, I see," you looked down at your now refilled glass.

Donna shrugged, a small smile sat on her lips, "I just have a feeling there will be a lot of crying tonight."

You laughed, finally feeling like you're able to breathe since the first day you stepped in New York, "You're not wrong."

You down the second shot of the night. Regrets will surely slap you in the face by the next morning.

"We met in our graduating year in college," you started, eyes not focusing on anything as you remember some bittersweet memories, "we were together until he landed the job as the A.D.A."

"Then that's when ..." Donna said, a question was left hanging between you.

"You know," it was more of an accusation than a question.

"The only information I gathered from Harvey is that you left him," she downed her shot and refilled it before passing it to you.

You swallowed the growing lump in your throat, "Harvey cheated on me."

This revelation seemed to shock Donna to her bones; her eyes widening, mouth agape.

"It's ironic isn't it?" You chuckled, downing the third shot.

"He wouldn't do that," Donna argued, she knows Harvey, "You caught him?"

Shaking your head, you poured yourself another, not minding the fact that Donna hasn't taken hers.

"I was a law student I knew when to believe or not believe an accusation without proof," you take another shot, "But someone showed me a picture of them kissing."

Harvey wasn't a big fan of cheating because of what his mother did when he was still a teen. But to hear this from you, Donna was hesitant. It didn't seem like it was Harvey.

The woman in front of you cursed, eyes still in bewilderment as she fiddled with her shot glass, "Wait, who showed you?"

"A friend of ours, Dana Scott. Do you know her?"

Donna's eyebrows raised in realization, "Oh, dear."

"What, why?"

This worried you because what does she know that you don't? And what does Dana have to do with any of this.

"You might not want to hear this."

"Hear what?" For some reason, you braced yourself for whatever Donna's going to say.

"What if Dana just set you up?" She said slowly, as if afraid to say something wrong.

Your eyebrows curled in confusion, "Why would she do that?"

"Nothing, she and Harvey seem to have a casual relationship now."

Casual relationship, meaning just there for the hook ups. You know Dana is working in London and Donna isn't the type to make a mistake with her information so it can only mean that it's true.

If it were true then did Dana pulled that stunt just to get your ex? For you to hate him and break up with him? Your mind can't grasp at that thought. Dana is one of your closest friends and not once did she show an interest towards Harvey. But hearing this now, you weren't too sure now.

"So you didn't tell Harvey anything?" Donna changed the subject, not wanting to instigate a wrong allegation but it has already put your mind in a bind.

You shake your head with a tinge of guilt, "I was too hurt and," your breath hitches in your throat and you shook your head, "logic and reasoning left me at that moment, I suppose."

Donna just nodded, hands circling over the glass. It meant an end of the topic and you were thankful for that.

The only sound emanating in the small space around you is the setlist the DJ played. The conversation strayed away from your devastating love life and to mundane stuff: work, family, the cute guy across your table. The two bottles of vodka was now long empty and Donna had the sense to not buy more, noticing the slurs in your words and the way you seem to sway in your seat.

It was nearing 2 A.M. and being two women, one drunk, the other barely sober, was not a good idea. She asked you for your address but you seem to not mind the question and continue trying to break free from her, whining how you wanna go on the dancefloor.

Donna cursed to herself and promise not to drink so much with you. You were a lightweight and clearly wasn't an obedient drunk. They way you seem to gain strength ten times your normal capacity wasn't also helping. Struggling to hold your swaying figure while fending off men who 'wanted to help' was too much for Donna. She only did what she thought was best in the situation: call Harvey.

--

"Jesus Christ, Donna, what did you let her drink?" Harvey walked out of his car and approached the two women.

"She said vodka was fine! She seemed so confident I didn't think she would be a lightweight drinker."

You were still whining about wanting to go back and drink more, saying that you weren't satisfied yet. Harvey stared at your figure with the familiarity of the situation. He remembered the times where he'd have to pick you up from parties for the very same reason, and his heart ached at the memory.

"The fact that she is confident should let you know she is a lightweight," Harvey grunted while picking you up by the waist and behind your thighs in a bridal style. He made sure your dress didn't reveal too much on your bottom.

"Get in the car," he orders Donna while you seem to behave after being carried. Your face was scrunched up in annoyance, eyes barely open.

The closeness between the two of you made Harvey soft as he stared at your face. You haven't changed one bit. Your long lashes, the arched brows, your plump lips that he missed so much kissing to. He shaked his head to free himself from monstrous thoughts and went to the passenger seat next to the driver seat and carefully placed her there.

"Do you know where she lives? Let's take her home first."

"Noo," you whined, shifting in you seat.

"I have been asking her since earlier and she won't tell me," replied Donna from the back seat.

"Okay, she'll sleep in your apartment then," Harvey started the car and checked the rear view mirror at Donna.

"What-- Harvey, no. My sister has been staying with me and I have no spare area to sleep on."

Harvey sighed at that. He wanted this over with, to be honest and it only seemed to get worse by the second. He initially declined Donna's request but after hearing her struggle to handle you, and the fear that something might happen to you--to the both of you, he agreed.

"Fine," Harvey gave in. He'll just have to sleep in the couch tonight, "But you owe me for this one, Donna."

The rest of the ride was silent with you sleeping soundly, having been finally knocked out, and Donna who watched as the buildings moves pass you guys. Donna was soon dropped off at her apartment and you both were on the road again.

You shifted in your seat, still unconscious and unknown to the fact that the man you hated the most is driving you to his place.

Upon parking his car in his usual spot, Harvey got out of his car and went to your side to carry you outside, not forgetting to sling your bag on his shoulders. As Harvey walked up the steps to the elevator, you mumbled something in your sleep.

You've always talked in your sleep, a fact that still warms Harvey's heart to this day, even if it leaves a trail of ache. He had always found it endearing about you, especially when you respond to whatever he's saying.

Arriving to his unit, he expertly unlocked his door and went inside, immediately walking to his bedroom.

Harvey placed you in his bed after turning the lights on and for a moment, he debated whether changing you out of your clothes. But then he bitterly reminds himself of what you did to him and that he should be hating you. Though, he found the task hard. So he settled with tucking you in and made sure you were cozy.

As he was about to leave his room, he heard you speak.

"Please, don't leave me," you murmured, eyes half close.

This seemed like a slap to Harvey. Don't leave me? He reeled himself for a moment, reminding himself that you were drunk and half asleep. It was baffling to him at the irony of the situation. You left him, with no note, no message whatsoever.

With a huff, Harvey turned off the lights and closed the room.

[visualkimbop]

the latest hotch x sunshine reader fic?

u think u ate with that?

no.

U DEVOUREDDDDDD. GRRRRRRRRRRR

part 2 now mama i love u so much

bestieee thank you omg!!!! <3 i hope you like part 2!!

part 1

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Spencer took a deep breath staring at his desk. On any other day it would be due to the amount of paperwork waiting for him, but this time it was a cup of his favorite coffee order, a muffin, and a chocolate croissant, all sitting right on top of the report he was working on.

He wasn’t ungrateful for the treats, but he would rather enjoy them if they weren’t accompanied by three pairs of wide eyes looking at him, while searching for answers in return.

Emily threw her head back dramatically. “Come on, give us something.”

“They’re on a date right now, aren’t they? That’s why he left early. I know you know,” Penelope said. “I know you do. Rossi knows too, but he won’t say anything.”

“Yeah,” JJ agreed, “Every time we ask he says nothing and just…smirks at us.”

“Please, you’re our last hope.”

Spencer took a bite of his muffin and smirked.

“You’re even worse than him,” Emily said and pointed at him.

“Come on, girls. Let’s go hack Hotch’s phone.”

“No, wait!”

--

Was it silly to start planning your wedding on a first date?

Maybe it was; you didn’t care. Because there was no way Aaron was not your future husband.

He did everything perfectly: he picked you up from your house, got you flowers, did not let you touch a door handle, paid for your dinner date, and let you play your music during the car ride.

Aaron also smiled a lot and the sight of it made you melt into your seat. It wasn’t often that a man gave you butterflies by just one look or with the sound of his laughter.

“What are you in the mood for now?”

The last thing you wanted was for the date to end, so instead of suggesting you walk back to his car you made a different offer.

“Let’s get ice cream!”

He chuckled, but you could already tell he would not say no to you. “Okay.”

You were walking side by side and even though you were already falling in love with his warm voice it was hard to pay attention to his words. Your mind was too occupied thinking about his arm swinging next to yours and how bad you wanted to hold hands with him.

Did he want it too? Would he think it’s childish to hold hands?

What if you just…did it?

Life’s too short, you thought and grabbed his hand.

Yes, you had not been paying attention to what he'd been saying but you did notice how he stopped mid-sentence when your hands touched. Was he mad?

Your heart was jumping against your chest, afraid you did something stupid. Aaron was quick to ease your anxiety, intertwining your fingers and squeezing gently your hand.

He wanted this too.

He cleared his throat. “So it’s um…a good chance to…”

With the side of your eye, you caught him turning his head to stare at you. You hadn’t wiped the grin off your face from the sudden hand holding yet, and he saw it.

His dimples made an appearance, and as your grin got bigger you noticed he blushed.

“Oh, shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything!” you giggled.

The sound of Aaron’s phone ringing interrupted your moment.

“Sorry, I have to get this,” he said.

You, of course, didn’t mind. Even though he hadn’t said so himself, you knew he had left right on time – early in Hotch’s terms - from work just for your date. Perks of being best friends with your date’s subordinate was getting to have this kind of inside information.

“Hotchner,” he said sternly.

You stayed quiet.

“What? I didn’t authorize this.”

Oh.

“No. And I trust this won’t happen again.”

Oh…Maybe you liked this side of him a little bit more than you should.

“Thanks,” he said, and hung up. “I’m sorry about that.”

I’m not.

“No, it’s okay! It’s fascinating observing you being a boss.”

“You like observing people?”

“Why, are you interested in hiring me?” you teased.

“Oh, I would never.”

“Why not?” you asked, acting offended.

“I would not be able to focus on a case with you around.”

You took advantage of the fact you were on a sidewalk and stopped walking, turning your body to face him. “And why is that?”

Aaron moved closer and dropped your hand only to cup the side of your head. His thumb moved back and forth on your cheek and his eyes on yours made you feel dizzy.

“Because you take my breath away.”

And with his next move he took yours. Maybe you’d actually faint if he didn’t pull you in and place his lips on yours.

Your hands moved to his tie with the intention of pulling him even closer to your body. His kiss was heavenly and you really wouldn’t mind if you were to stay like that forever.

Yeah…there was no way Aaron Hotchner was not your future husband.

[visualkimbop]

three cents

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader

summary: you butt dial your boss during a girls night … the girls night where you told them you’d fuck aaron hotchner for three cents.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: talks of big dick energy, prostitution if you squint, red wine, gray sweatpants (mentioned)

Girls' night out was wild, no one knew where you would end up. One night, you ended up on a boat and the next you were on a train to NYC. After getting thrown in jail with Emily, JJ, and Penelope during another night out, you all vowed to keep whatever happened during the night a secret from everyone, specifically Derek Morgan. Derek Morgan who had bailed all four of you out of jail, Derek Morgan who teased you relentlessly for weeks after.

After a long case, Emily suggested another girl’s night which all of you agreed on, desperately needing a celebratory drink after saving a little girl. It was around one in the morning when you got back to Quantico and though Aaron gave you the day off for tomorrow–or well, later today–all four of you decided to crash at Emily’s and drink to your heart’s content.

Popcorn and Hersey kisses lay on Emily’s coffee table, bottles of half-empty wine and jello shots litter the floor and you’re all giggling about whether to prank Derek by getting phone cases with a picture of him shirtless. You’re all on board and Penelope is getting them custom-made through a website she’s found.

“Speaking of Derek’s abs.” JJ drags the ‘s’ creating a hissing noise. She turns to you, grinning. “I’ve wanted to ask ever since you went to that Doctor Who convention with him. Do you like like Spence?”

You giggled, taking a small sip of wine, thinking about the genius. “Noooo. Spence is my friend. And he runs with his gun like it’s weighing him down. Besides, I only went to that Doctor Who convention because he went to see Barbie with me. He’s, like, too young for me, too.”

“He’s older than you.” Emily points out, smirking, knowing full well you liked older men. “He’s adorable and sweet.”

“Spencer is definitely cute and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t had a sex dream about him,” you confessed, smiling as the girls burst out laughing. “But he’s too … inexperienced. I like my men like I like my wine. Old.”

Your phone had been on mute since you entered the plane, not wanting to abruptly wake anyone up if they were resting, so not a single person in the room had heard your phone ringing or Aaron’s multiple “hello’s” trying to get your attention. All of you were oblivious to your boss listening in to the conversation.

“Is Rossi too old for you?” Penelope asked, inciting another round of giggles.

You nodded, finishing off your glass of wine. “Just a bit. I’ve seen pictures of him when he was in the Marines though, and I definitely would’ve been the fourth Mrs. Rossi back then.”

Emily cackled, a bit of red wine spilling from her full glass. “Okay, I have a question. Would you guys fuck Hotch for ten million dollars? Be honest here.”

“No!” both JJ and Penelope spit out. They all turned to you, grinning like madmen.

You shrugged, filling another glass. “I’d do it for three.”

“Damn, three million? That’s–“

“Nope,” you smirked, taking a sip.

Emily paused, head tilting in confusion. “Three … hundred thousand?”

“No.”

“Three thousand?”

You shake your head, grinning at the confused woman. “Nope.”

“Three hundred?”

“No.”

Emily’s eyes widened, jaw-dropping a little further as you denied her guesses. “Three dollars?”

“No.”

“THREE CENTS?” JJ was the one to shout, mouth dropping open when you giggled and nodded.

Penelope threw a pillow at you, and you giggled, dodging it, nearly spilling your drink in the process. “Hey! This is supposed to be a judge-free zone. I’d suck and fuck Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner for three measly cents.”

“Okay, I’d understand if you said Derek but Hotch?” Emily exclaimed, shaking her head at the thought. “He’s like twenty years older than you!”

“Exactly! That’s part of the appeal,” you replied. You were sure by tomorrow no one would remember your confession–though you were positive you wouldn’t either–and that they wouldn’t tease you too much over it. “He’s the literal definition of a DILF.”

The girls laughed at your words, JJ having to clutch onto a pillow to control herself.

“And!” you continue. “I was working out with Derek once and Hotch came in the gym with gray sweats and his dick looks humongous. It was a huge fucking bulge. I think I saw it twitching.”

Penelope slaps her hands over her ears, playfully grimacing at your words while Emily chugs the remains of her glass, absolutely baffled. You didn’t mind, sex and boys were common conversation topics during girl’s night (and sometimes when Emily would catch you making eyes at someone.

The rest of the night continued the same, though less talk about Hotch’s big dick and more on whether you all should make more jello shots. By the time you’re coming up with an answer, it’s five in the morning and all four of you are knocked out from the alcohol in your system. Even in your drunk state, you knew you’d wake up to a pounding headache.

When Derek calls in the morning, telling everyone about a new case, you’re all moody and grumpy. Hotch wanted everyone in even though he had given the day off, so no one was jumping for joy especially not in your hangover state.

Despite drinking the most, Emily drives the four of you back to the BAU, mumbling obscenities under her breath on the way. When you enter the elevator, Derek is there, causing all of you to groan at his presence. One look at you and he laughs loudly, knowing what had transpired the night before.

You wish you could shoot his foot.

In the briefing room, Hotch apologizes for having you all come in on your day off, pausing to glance at you before presenting the case. Truth be told, you hadn’t paid that much attention to it, your headache taking up your attention. Fire, serial arsonist, fifteen dead, Seattle.

“Wheels up in thirty,” Hotch announces, walking across the table. As the team filters out of the room, he calls your name. “In my office, please. I want to discuss something with you.”

Confused, you follow him to his office, pushing through your headache to think about what he could possibly want to speak to you about. You come up blank, even more confused when you see him lock the door to his office as you enter. “Did I do something wrong?”

Hotch shook his head, moving past you to his desk. He picks up something and turns around. In his hands are three pennies, and he’s holding them out to you. “Three cents.”

You’re getting deja vu on the words, and it’s not until several seconds of standing in silence and confusion that it clicks. Three cents. You blush, looking at the pennies. “I don’t understand.”

“You said you’d suck and fuck me for three cents,” he smirks at your shock, placing the coins in your hands.

“What–”

Hotch unbuckles his belt, causing you to stop mid-sentence. “You’ve got twenty-eight minutes to suck my cock. Get to work.”

[visualkimbop]

CRIMINAL MINDS P LINKS

warnings: NSFW CONTENT, MDNI, you have to be 18 or older to interact or i will block.

notes: if you have any p links to add, just send them in my inbox with the link and character!

SPENCER REID

• sucking spencer off

• fucking you while you’re on top

• spencer fingering you while you’re whining and moaning

• spencer fucking your thighs

• spencer being a munch 🥰

• riding spencer

• spencer eating you out

AARON HOTCHNER

• fingering you after a long day

• fucking you before work

• taking his stress out on you

• punishing you for acting out :(

• mutual masturbation with hotch

• teasing you with his cock

• riding hotch

• fucking you so good

[visualkimbop]

about you

one | two (soon)

pairings: harvey specter x reader

warnings: this happens on season 2; may or may not be mature; angst

summary: you left your boyfriend of five years a year after graduating law school to work in Los Angeles for reasons unknown to anyone but you. Now you're back in New York to the very firm he works in because you almost got implicated in a crime. What happens then?

a/n: can't stop thinking about this idea while watching season 2 lmao comment down if i should continue this or no hehe

It has been a while since you've stepped foot in New York. You have spent most of your life after law school in Los Angeles working for a well established firm that has only grew to be one of the biggest in the area. You had enjoyed it there; the work was never easy but it was bearable with the people you worked with. It was never your plan to come back but sometimes, fate pulls jokes on you.

The sound of your heels clicking on the shiny tiled floor blended in with the noise of people walking towards the elevator, some asking assistance to the receptionists like you are.

"Good morning, may I ask which floor Pearson-Hardman is?"

You said with a smile and the woman behind the desk returned it and answered your question.

With a small 'thank you' to the woman, you walked away and headed to the elevator.

You were apprehensive on coming this firm; not because of the firm itself but for some people working for it. It has been years since you have seen your old colleagues from back in the day and without notice, you're right there marching up to them.

There was this one thought at the back of your head that you refuse to acknowledge, even though it is eating you up on the inside.

You were there for Jessica Pearson, one of your old friends who has helped you go through law school as a nurturing senior.

But what if-

The sound of the elevator pinging pulled you out of your thoughts and immediately, the sleek interior design of the floor met you. You were impressed with the palette and motif the firm has going on. Patting away possible dust on your white top and smoothing down any creases on your matching white pencil skirt, you took a deep breath.

Walking towards what seems to be the reception area, you gave the woman a polite grin and asked where Jessica's office was until someone called your name on your right.

"Gods be damn, you're here," a familiar voice said.

"No, Jessica, I am just a projection," you joked as she walked towards you and leaned in for a hug, which surprised you because Jessica is not one to display unprofessionalism but you returned it anyways.

You pulled way and stared up at the woman, "So, how's your life been?"

Jessica laughed and, while still holding your hand, stepped away, "This clearly needs to be talked over some tea."

You followed the older woman, eyes moving around to take in the firm. The building was a buzz of life, lawyers walking to-and-fro with files in their hands, too focused on their work. Some have noticed you but their stares didn't linger. They are probably assuming you are another client in need of defending, not that you care what they think.

Upon the arrival at Jessica's office (it wasn't hard to miss the name outside her door), she headed over to the couch and motioned for you to sit down on the chair across her, your back to the glass wall.

"What has the great Y/N come at my firm for?" Jessica jabbed jokingly. You have kept in touch in all the years that you were away but it wasn't always detailed and up to date.

She prepared a tea while you sat there, getting comfortable on the gray couch, running your hands over the fabric. Jessica has always have a great taste with things.

Grinning slightly you replied, "Just want to catch up, now that I am permanently staying in New York."

A shock of surprise was evident on Jessica's face, "What happened? I thought everything was doing well in your firm in L.A.?"

"I thought so too but I," you sighed, "caught someone trying to plant an evidence in my office to implicate me of a crime."

The woman sat across you whispered your name in sympathy and before she could speak, you continued, "but i settled it then and there and I sent my resignation letter by the morning."

"Oh, honey," Jessica muttered, "So I'm guessing you're here to apply?"

"Not exactly. I know you've offered me a position here all those years ago and that it still stands but," you paused, struggling with words, "you know why, Jessica."

The woman nodded in understanding, eyes on the ground in thought.

"And I clearly remember you saying that when I visit New York, you should be the first person I visited or you're gonna, what was it again, tell my brother what happened in my second year of law school?" You both laughed, remembering at the memory of you getting shitfaced in his car, deciding it was a nice idea to paint using your insides.

"Still scared of him, I see," Jessica joked.

"Especially after it caused for him to break up with his girlfriend because I told him it was her? Definitely."

"You've always hated Laura," Jessica reminded you.

"Yes, indeed, I do," you said with a laugh, finally taking a sip of the tea Jessica served you earlier. Silence settled within the two of you, the kind that wasn't awkward or tensed; just comfortable. A kind that you missed while you worked on the other side of the country.

"The position is till up in the air, you know. You are always welcome here," the older woman gave you a solemn smile.

"I don't know, Jessica. I have to think about-"

"Jessica, I found something that we can-"

You froze at the familiar sound. All too familiar. Jessica threw a worry glance at you before shifting in her seat towards the man behind you.

"Sorry to interrupt, I'll just leave this on your desk then."

You heard footsteps coming close behind you and towards the desk near Jessica and you find yourself brace yourself from seeing him and him seeing you. You took a deep breath and looked up at him. He wasn't the only one that got hurt.

And there he was: Harvey Specter in his three piece suit that is tailored to fit him. His hair was new and he looked colder than he used to. But that is probably just towards you.

"Coming back like nothing happened?" Harvey broke the silence between you three with a bitterness ang anger to his tone.

"Harvey," Jessica spoke before you could respond, "meet our newest associate. She'll be working under me."

[visualkimbop]

all the bau meeting spencer’s badass gf who drives a motorcycle, has tattoos, dresses like a mob wife!!!! pls pls pls i need to read their reactions to bby boy pulling us

i can definitely do that for you !!

“You have to be nice.” JJ stared imploringly at Derek who looked back at her in shock across their booth in the bar, falling dramatically back into his seat.

“Nic—I’ll be more than nice.” He assured with the beginnings of a mischievous grin, only for Emily to slap him across the back of the head. “Hey!”

“I bet she’ll be so cute! Like a mini female Spencer all bundled up in fluffy cardigans and—aww I bet she’ll have big adorable glasses.” Penelope gushed excitedly, practically bouncing in her seat.

The sound of a motorcycle roaring distracted them and they all looked out of the window in that general curiosity that people get upon hearing a motorcycle, who was the potential hottie driving it.

Penelope gasped loudly, her drink splashing as it clanked against the wooden surface. Emily and JJ’s mouths dropped open, eyes popping out of their skulls dramatically. Derek genuinely felt lightheaded as he watched the scene before him—grasping desperately at the edge of the booth. Rossi’s eyebrows arched and he shook his head, chuckling slightly to himself. Hotch merely stared, though a smirk was twitching at his lips.

“Absolutely not—“

“What? HOW—“

“It’s a clone. An alien!”

The team’s startled chatter broke off as Penelope shushed them all loudly: everyone watched as their Spencer, boy genius, Reid got off of the back of the motorcycle, removing his arms from around the waist of the breathtakingly gorgeous girl. He offered her his hand as he stood in front of her and she rolled her eyes fondly at him, taking it. When she stood, he unzipped her motorcycle jacket for her and eased it off her shoulders—revealing a silky black halter dress, her arms scattered in tattoos, as were her thighs. Hoops dangled from her ears, red bottoms on her feet, nails manicured and hands adorned in rings.

Derek literally flopped back into his seat, starstruck.

All of them watched, heads turned accordingly to never stop looking at the pair of you (mostly you), as Spencer folded your jacket over one arm before taking your hand in his other as you both walked to the entrance—they could see he was rambling and you stared up at him, a charmed smile on perfectly painted lips.

“I—“ Emily sucked in a breath, flustered, “they’re coming now—act natural.”

At her hiss, Penelope purposefully fell back into what she thought was a more relaxed position, fluffing her hair. JJ awkwardly straightened out her clothes, leg bouncing. Emily leaned over the table ‘casually’ swirling her drink and Derek positioned himself with a broad arm flexed on the windowsill, looking out the dirty screen of the bar window with a smoulder.

Hotch looked at them all and silently shook his head, Rossi chucked silently at his face of disappointment.

The team heard the click of your heels approaching and vague remnants of your conversation with him that led Spencer to giggling.

Shocked looks were exchanged and Penelope looked like she was going to melt into a gooey puddle of awwwww.

“Hello everyone!” Spencer chirped as he reached their table, happier and more relaxed than they’d ever seen him be. “It’s nice to see you all—this-this is my girlfriend, Y/N.” 

“Hi.” Your voice was silky smooth and Penelope eyed your immovable un-smudged lip-combo with admiration. “It really is a pleasure to meet all of you.”

“The pleasure is absolutely all mi—“ Derek stopped, his sentence turning into a series of harsh wheezes as both Emily and JJ elbowed him in either side.

You blinked at them.

“It’s lovely to meet you.” He continued in a pained voice, collapsed dramatically into his seat.

JJ and Emily rolled their eyes.

“Hi! It is so so so cool to finally meet you—I’m Penelope and you are even prettier than Spencer described and, believe me, your doctor man used every ounce of this thick vocabulary to compliment you.”

You quirked a grin at the excited redhead in front on you, looking teasingly over at your boyfriend who was blushing bright red but he grinned shyly back at you.

“David Rossi.” The Italian introduced himself formally as you and Spencer sat down in the booth, opposite him. “I always knew Spencer was a man of good taste.” He gave you a mischievous smile.

“I would argue that we both have great taste.” You winked back, settling into your boyfriend’s side.

The team watched the easy way that Spencer allowed you into his space, the way in which he wrapped his arms around your waist with a comfortability they’d never seen before and the urge to smile was simply too much to ignore.

“I just want to say, If the genius ever messes up. .” Emily trailed off, making a phone with her hands and holding it against her ear, she mouthed ‘call me’ at you.

As laughter left your smirking lips, you looked up at your boyfriend who shook his head playfully down at you—you turned your head to kiss his cheek briefly, smiling up at him.

“I’ll be sure to give you a ring.” You promised her as the laughter around the quietened slightly.

“And me!” Morgan piped up happily only to groan unhappily again as JJ slapped him over the head.

“Don’t call Morgan.” JJ advised, leaning across the table as though to confide a secret in you, voice lowering to a mock whisper, “he’s got an STD he refuses to get rid off.”

“LIES AND SLANDER.”

“Not on his good name.” Penelope joined in, giggling all the while.

“It’s nice to finally meet you—I’m Aaron Hotchner.” Your boyfriend’s boss introduced himself to you as everyone got sucked into taking the piss out of Derek.

“It’s lovely to meet you Hotch.” You replied kindly, taking the name you’d heard them all call him.

“Please,” Aaron paused briefly, glancing at Spencer with a minuscule smirk, “call me Aaron.”

You nodded with an unaware smile but Spencer’s mouth dropped as his boss to a sip of his drink to hide his smirk, not him too.