#and they all kissed emily on the mouth at least once

[laststandx3]

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Second Chances Are For Winners

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

WC: 2.7k

TW: Swearing, teasings, blood, abduction, breaking and entering, Criminal Minds General list of triggers apply here.

A/N: Hiya gang! so actually I have been so unmotivated to write and I just got back from vacation so I promise I will finish up VDVE soon. But please enjoy this mouth vomit that Just came out of my mind. It's a part one since the rest of it is mapped out, just not written! (also why is like every other gif his mouth moving. This man really just doesn't stfu and it's only hot on him)

Spencer Reid being overwhelmed was an understatement. He needed to get out of that police station as soon as physically possible. JJ confronting him about his hostility towards her had not gone the way she had hoped it would, and Spencer was once again, fuming. 

The Oklahoma heat was not kind to someone who only wore sweater vests, a fact in which he would later start to reconsider when planning his outfits to places where the heat had personal vendettas against the living. As soon as he stepped outside, it was like he was met with a brick wall of temperatures well over what they should be. As the sweat dripped down his forehead, so did the tension. He took a couple of breaths before picking up the phone and dialing a number he knew all too well. 

“Speak and be heard, Wonder Boy” 

“Hey Garcia,” A small smile formed from hearing the familiar voice. “I need you to look up someone, and find their cell number for me, if that’s okay.”

He could hear Garcia roll across her ‘batcave’, “Hit me.”

“Her name is Y/N Y/L/N…” 

“Give me two seconds…..Isn’t she—” 

“Garcia, please.” 

He could hear the smirk forming across her face as her fingers flew across the keys. 

“You’re looking up more than her number…”

“One point for Boy Genius everybody. Yes, I’m looking up more than just her phone number. She’s the gorgeous mystery woman who kissed your cheek in front of the whole team—of course I’m going to look her up now that I have her name.”

Spencer pinched the bridge of his nose, starting to regret the decision to call Penelope in the first place. “Can you just send me her number and snoop around later Garcia?” 

“Fine Genius.” His phone beeped. “Just sent it to you.” 

“Thank you Penelope.” 

“Anytime Boy Wonder.” Reid hung up the call before looking at the screen, opening the text Garcia had sent him. He smiled at the number, and almost dialed before thinking better of it. Maybe after the case, he’ll call you and take you out for lunch to catch up. But it’s nothing more, Spencer decided. You probably didn’t feel the same way, but at least he knew that there was someone who wasn’t a part of the team in which he could finally vent his frustrations to. Now he’ll finally be able to get an objective view on the whole Emily situation. 

Spencer looked at the file in his hand and sighed, opening it up. As he was reading through it for the umpteenth time, something occurred to him, and he quickly made his way back into the station, and towards his team. 

_____________________________________________________________________________

Once the jet touched down in DC, Spencer was the first one off the plane. He walked through the hanger, and towards his car. He could feel the others watching him, especially Emily, but his mind was elsewhere. 

He reached into his pocket and pulled his phone out, dialing the number Garcia had sent. 

“Y/L/N and Associates, how may I help you today?” 

Spencer didn’t even try to bite back the smile before he cleared his throat, reaching into his back pocket to grab his keys. 

“Hi, yes, I was wondering if I could speak with Y/N Y/L/N?”

“Sure, let me make sure she’s available. Her meeting should be ending soon. Can I ask what this is for?” 

Spencer pursed his lips before answering. “She, uh, just told me to call this number.” 

He heard the person on the other end shuffle something around before answering, “Good enough for me.” They hummed. “Can I just get a name?”

“Yeah–uh, Spencer–Spencer Reid.” 

“Give me one moment Mr. Reid” was all he heard before he was put on hold. He sighed and entered his car, chucking his go-bag into the passenger seat. As Spencer turned on the car, he heard your voice.

“Spencer?”

His face lit up, and a smile graced his features. 

“Hey! Yeah. Um” He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “Hi.” 

She laughed. “I knew you’d find me eventually, Doctor, but a whole week? I feel that maybe your profiling skills need a bit of sharpening.” 

“Well–I was, I was working on cases. I-I didn’t forget—”

You cut him off, voice softer than he remembered. “I’m just teasing Spencer. So what do I owe the absolute pleasure of having Doctor Spencer Reid grace my line.” 

“Well, I was hoping you’d give me your cell number so I don’t have to annoy your secretary…”

You were silent for a moment. “Well my number is going to cost you something.” 

“Y-Yeah absolutely.” Answered a bit too quickly, almost out of breath. 

“I expect a meal sometime soon, and maybe throw in coffee one of these mornings as well.” 

Spencer smiled so brightly he almost couldn’t see the road as he was driving. 

“I-I, um, think that’s something I can do.” 

He heard you hum in agreement.

“What about tomorrow night?” 

Spencer paused. 

“I–...I actually can’t do tomorrow night, I have a team meeting, but what about breakfast the next morning?” 

He heard you shuffling papers around and a bit of typing on the keyboard before you answered him. “Seems like I’m all yours Doctor.” 

Reid smiled and parked his car outside of his apartment. 

“Then you’ll have to give me your cell phone’s number and it’s a sealed deal.”

“Are you usually this good at negotiations? Should I start prepping my list of demands for breakfast…” You joked, letting out a small laugh. 

Spencer shook his head before he realized you couldn’t see him. “N-No, well yes actually. It’s a part of the whole FBI thing.” 

You laughed at his joke before giving him your cell number. “I’ll see you soon Spencer. Bye.” 

As you hung up the phone, Spencer sent a quick “hey!” text before getting out of the car and heading up to his apartment. Maybe this wouldn’t be such a tense week after all. 

______________________________________________________________________________

The Team isn’t stupid. They’ve noticed that Spencer was somehow in a better mood when he arrived at the office the next morning, despite the way he basically ran away from the jet. They also noticed he was spending a lot more time on his phone than before, especially since Spencer was not the one to text. 

As Spencer dumped his sugar into his coffee mug, Derek came up next to him and started to prepare his own coffee. 

“Wanna tell me why you’re in such a good mood Pretty Boy?” 

Spencer pondered the offer for a moment before putting the sugar back on the counter, next to the coffee pot. “Nope.” and he walked back towards his desk. 

Derek was taken back a little bit, but finished his coffee. He made eye contact with Emily and shrugged. 

Emily was next, since her desk was next to Spencer’s. 

“Morning Spence…” 

“Morning Emily.” He quickly replied, and even flashed her a quick smile before his phone lit up and his attention was taken away from her. He sent a quick text, before placing his phone face down and started looking through his files to find the right paperwork to finish the consultation he had started before they left for Oklahoma. 

“Wanna tell me what’s going on with you?”

“Nope.” Spencer replied yet again, and now that Derek was back, he watched the same look pass through Emily’s face before she looked at Derek. 

Derek decided he was going to try a different tactic this time. “Hey Reid, wanna tell me who you're texting there man?” 

Derek’s face lit up like a Christmas Tree not even a moment later when Spencer ignored his question. 

“Is it…oh what was her name…”

“Ohhhh,” Emily joined in, “It’s the lawyer from last week…” 

Spencer just shrugged and tried to stay focused on the paper in front of him, yet all he had been doing for the past minute was rereading the same line over and over because all he could think about was when you were going to answer his text. 

“The lawyer, right right…” Derek smirked and looked at Emily, both knowing they hit the jackpot. “Wasn’t her name…Y/N?” 

At the mention of your name, Spencer made the mistake of sitting up a bit straighter, which both profilers noticed instantly.

“Oh so Y/N has been texting you all morning huh. Is that why you raced off of the jet last night? Couldn’t wait to go see he–”

“No.” Spencer cut off Derek, looking up at the pair. “I haven’t seen her since last week’s case. Now if the two of you wouldn’t mind leaving me alone I have a lot of paperwork I need to make it through before I head home tonight.” He turned back to the file in front of him and tried to read it again. And again. And again. Eventually, Spencer was able to continue his work once Derek and Emily let him be. 

But anytime his phone buzzed, he could feel the smirks from his friends, he just didn’t care. 

__________________________________________________________________________

You were so over your entire day. Every single one of your active clients decided that they had an issue that needed to be resolved in the second they called you. 

So when you woke up, face leaving a print against the wood of your desk, you let out a groan. 

The little clock in the corner of your laptop's screen flashed the time, causing you to let out a string of curses. 

“I cant fucking believe it’s 2 am. Fuck.” You grumbled, standing up and stretching your arms over your head. 

Your phone screen lit up with a notification, which also showed that you had missed a few text messages from your favorite profilers. The last one was a, correct, guess that you had fallen asleep at your desk. You smiled and responded with: 

Do you ever get tired of being right all the time Doctor Reid?

As you packed up your things, your phone buzzed. 

Not really. It’s just in my nature. 

You laughed out loud a bit, shaking your head. 

And why are you still awake? 

That’s when your phone rang. You held it in your hand, staring at it for a moment, before remembering to answer it. 

“Hello?”

“Did you even check caller ID or are you trying to encourage stalkers?” Spencer’s voice rang through your body as you let out another laugh, placing the phone between your shoulder and your ear, packing up the rest of your things. 

“Well Spencer, I seriously can’t think of another person to call me at this hour besides you…; and maybe this Baby Daddy who won’t leave me alone.” You grumbled, shoving your laptop into your bag with a little extra force than normal. 

“Baby daddy?” 

“Yeah, one of my clients, he’s a sweet guy—great dad. But because he’s so worried about his daughter having any sort of parenting time, he’s been calling me nonstop, freaking out about supervised visits. Like, I get it, but it’s fucking 2 am and I stop working at 5, maybe 6 the latest. 

You heard Spencer hum in response, but no words. “Spencer?”

“Yeah?”

“You okay?” 

“Ye-yeah, I uh–”

“Did…Did you think I was talking about someone I had a kid with?” 

Spencer sputtered out a “n-no, why–why would…”

You let out another laugh, that was like music to his ears. “Spencer, I feel like you should have figured that out from the way that you clearly used the FBI to look up my office number to get my cell number. You would’ve found out if I had kids.” 

“Y-Yeah I guess…” 

“Give me one second Spencer.” and before he could respond, you put your phone down, and pulled out your airpods, letting them connect to your phone so you could go hands free. 

“Can you hear me?” You placed your phone in your skirt pocket, adjusting your airpods so that they would be comfortable. 

“Yeah? Is everything okay?” 

“I just had to put my headphones on, I need my hands.” You slid on your heels, and walked out of your office locking the door. “Tell me about your day Spencer, I have to walk around and lock up.” 

Spencer hummed again and looked up at his ceiling. He had been sitting in his apartment, trying to read, waiting for you to answer his text–partially because he thought the worst, but mostly because he couldn't stop thinking about you. 

“Well. Not much happened. I was at work, and was trying to finish a report for this case I’m consulting on by sending them a preliminary profile, and then Derek was up my ass all day.” 

“What about?” You asked, placing your bag on the floor near the office, going to check the rest of the offices to make sure no one was still there. 

“Oh, um, well…”

You laughed again, causing his chest to swell again. “So it was me.” You teased me. “Excited to talk to me?”

You could feel Spencer turning redder and redder as the moments went on.

After a brief pause, Spencer responded to you. “And what if I am?”

It was your turn to blush, but it only made you feel a bit bolder. 

“Getting a bit flirtatious, Spence. This is not the Reid I once knew from all those years ago.”

You could hear Spencer laugh. 

“You sound tired. Why don’t you get some rest Spencer.” 

Spencer sat up straighter. “No. I’ll stay on the phone with you—” He interrupted himself with a yawn. “Until you get home. What kind of agent would I be letting you walk home alone at this hour.” 

“I’m not going to stop you, but if you fall asleep….I’m hanging up.” 

“Fine—Just text me when you get home?” 

You hummed and nodded. “Can do sweetheart. Night Spencer.” 

“Night Y/n” 

You hung up the phone and turned on your spotify, listening to some music that would make this fifteen minute walk bearable. You usually drive into work, but it had been such a nice day, and you usually don’t mind getting in the extra walk since you sit behind a desk all day. 

You paused before you exited the first set of doors—part of you felt like you should just go back upstairs and sleep in your office. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it would provide a certain agent with a lot more comfort knowing you’re somewhere safe. 

But then you thought about your bed, and the new sheets you put on the night before, and the weighted blanket spread out across the bed spread, and you realized you’d much rather sleep under that than on a stale couch without even a pillow. 

You managed to make a fifteen minute walk into a ten one. Speeding home at 2 am was not exactly what you wanted to do, but you’d rather that then the couch. You quickly unlocked the front door and made it up the stairs and into your apartment. 

You sent Spencer a quick text saying that you had arrived home, and immediately moved into your bedroom. 

The apartment was a small one bed, one bath. It would have been considered a studio if not for the door between your bedroom and the kitchen/living room/entrance/dining room. Your bedroom was quite small, with a skinny closet, a dresser, and your bed. You had gotten lucky enough to shove your bed against one wall, and create a reading nook in the turret window on the other side of the room, which was only about ten feet away, but still. 

You kicked off your shoes, and made your way into the bathroom, brushing your teeth and listening to whatever music spotify had decided to play for you. 

You took off your outfit for the day and pulled on your pajamas, which felt so good against your skin as you slid into your bed, and shut the lights off. 

You wished you took the first option when two minutes later, you heard your bedroom door creak open, and a voice tell you not to scream. 

To Be Continued...

________________________________________________________

[thir10th]

Dating Emily Prentiss - Headcanons

some of these are nsfw

-She is the softest girlfriend ever

-always seems so strong, so badass, but she has the softest spot for you, you make her heart melt, and she never fights it back

-suuuuuuper posessive, gets jealous easily

-one time during a case, one of the local cops started flirting with you. Emily was fuming, pulling you close to her, her hands on your waist, putting your hair behind your ear, she had done it all, but this guy was just not getting it. Once the case was closed, he was about to ask you out for a drink, when Emily heard it, she run to where you were (still speechless) and kissed your lips, it was a explicit kiss, her hands on your waist possessively, a deep, passionate and romantic kiss, taking you by surprise. The guy was flabbergasted to say the least. "hey baby, ready to go?" she asks when she pulls apart. She looks at you, still out of words, and then to the guy, his mouth still opened in awe. "oh, sorry, you were saying?" he doesn't bother you anymore

-she loves having you over at her place because it's like sharing her intimacy with you, and she is a SUCKER for any kind of intimacy

-seeing you sitting around her place, walking around her kitchen messing around, cooking, listening to music and dancing, you on her couch, hanging your bras on the bathroom, randomly finding a sock or a pair of lost underwear after a night together... she loves having you around so much that you have your own drawer at her place after only 3 months of dating.

-another form of intimacy that she loves is when you wear her clothes. Hell. She loves it. She's feral for it. She always insists you look better on them anyway. She will wear it after because it smells like you, the scent calms her down, so she buries her nose into it every once in a while.

-physical touch is her no1 love language, in the sense that she will take any chance she gets to touch you. Her hand on your thigh. Will hold yours under the table every time. She caresses your shoulder, your arm. Will hold your hand on the plane during landing. When you go back after a case on the jet she'll have you laying on her, full on hugging sometimes, your back laying on her chest, she will play with strands of your hair, tickle your forearm... anything she can, she will touch

-she loves showing you off, always refers to you as "my girlfriend". "i'm gonna call my girlfriend" "i need to ask my girlfriend first" "Sure! I'll call my girlfriend to ask her if she wants to come" ...

-WILL tease the team, specially Morgan as he instists on making comments about your relationship (he never means wrong, he's not fetizishing you, it's just what he knows) "Prentiss, you and pretty girl had a good night?" "damn well we did" / "hey Prentiss any reason why you're both wearing turtle necks today? (she uncovers her neck, showing off the purple marks you had left) don't worry, you should see how i left her"

-at the beginning it would embarrass you a lot, now you've learned to enjoy it, and you even join in sometimes "Hey Prentiss, got a whip? (he says holding the leather attire to her body) You bet she does" Em loves it when you tease too.

-she definitely praises you in different languages, specially Italian because you love it (yes i'm projecting, so what, Italian is sexier than French, i said what i said)

-she's a huuuge nerd, so you bet movie marathons are a thing. She'll also keep asking you to pay attention if she has already seen it "Baby look! Look, this is the best part!" "I'm looking Em, I promise I'm looking"

-Chocolate, red wine and cherries are her 3 faves. You once got a perfume that smelled like cherries and she loved it so much she spent hours with her nose buried in your neck

-After several months of dating, you suggested to go on a little weekend trip. She was reluctant at first, but you convinced her as soon as you showed her the big jacuzzi at the hotel. She loved it so much and you had such a great time, that you started going on them every time you had a free weekend

-She has a tattoo on her ribs, right next to her boob. It was a stupid decision she made when she was 16, she instantly regretted it, hated it, and had always thought about getting it removed, until you started dating. You loved it, constantly reminding her how sexy it looked, kissed all the way around it, it made her feel so confident about it that she even started liking it, although it kind of looked like shit.

-She's not controlling at all, but she is over protective. She will murder whoever dares to touch you. (You know that scene when Spencer bends a guy's arm when he touches Tara? something like that)

-She loooooves giving you hickeys, but obviously they can't be visible, so she marks you all around. Your boobs, your thighs, your waist...

-She's a top, but she likes experimenting and will let you (and enjoy it just as much) take the lead whenever you feel like it.

-Has a whole folder on her phone for pictures of you with Sergio, most of them candid that you don't even know about

-loves showers and baths together, any time you go for a shower you can be sure she's joining you inside. You always say how inconvenient it is, but she always goes "we need to save water, honey"

-into astrology but will never admit it (she literally recognises constellations HELLO?!)

-You love her nose so much. She's always been kind of self conscious about it, but you reassured her every time, kissing it, praising her, you always told her how perfect it was for eating pussy, and that convinced her. Or maybe it was your moans after the tip of her nose brushed against your clit when she ate you out. You're not sure.

-Before she met you, she hadn't come out to her mom, nether had taken any partner home, when you started dating she told you about it, you insisted that it didn't matter, she had to do it when she was ready, if she ever was. It only took her 6 months to tell her and introduce you both.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A/N: might do a part two in some time because there are SO MANY omg she's the cutest (like and reblog <3 )

[lillysdreaminnn]

I'm married!

Pairing; husband!derek morgan x wife!fem!reader

Warnings; derek being drunk as hell, some suggestiveness here and there, fluff, fem!reader, use of y/n (like once)

Summary; you take derek home after a celebration at a bar, and he's wasted - to say the least.

Word count; 1.1k

A/n; first time writing here so yay 🎉 be nice please thanks. and maybe send me any requests if you want :))

"Come on Derek, it's time to go home." You tried to get your lovely husband out of his seat so you could drive him home.

 "One more drink! Pleaaase?" Derek stared pleading like a child, earning an amused laugh from the rest of his team and a sigh from you, "No, Derek. You said that two drinks ago. Let's go." You said in a more demanding tone, making your husband frown like a child.

 You sighed at his expression and pinched the bridge of your nose.

 Not becuause you were mad at him, not at all. You were just trying to find the willpower to deny his cute face. "Please Y/n?" Emily begged as well, equally as drunk and, before you could respond, Hotch spoke up.

 "Okay, okay, enough drinks for the night. Y/n is right." He said, smiling at the interactions between his drunk agents. You mouthed a thank you, to which he responded by waving you off as he helped you get Derek off his seat.

 After finally making it home, you dragged Derek through the door of your bedroom kicking it shut. Derek placed himself on the bed and sat like a child with a frown, making you stiffle a laugh as you picked out his pyjamas from the closet.

 "Lift up your arms for me, my love." You chuckled at his frown again before pulling his shirt over his body, making him gasp.

 Thinking you hurt him, your eyes went wide and you immediately asked what was wrong, "I'm married!" He said in a somewhat angry tone. Once again, you tried your absolute best not to laugh at his very sweet and cute - and slightly childish - demeanor.

 "What?"

 "I'm married! I'm married and my wife is very very beautiful and she will rip you apart if she finds out you took off my shirt!" He slurred, looking at you with a very offended look on his face, only adding to the cuteness.

 Shaking your head while laughing to yourself, you decided to run the poor man a shower, to wash the liquor and sweat off him. "Okay married man. Let's get you to the shower." Derek once again protested, sitting more firmly on the bed.

 "No! I'm married!" He said, ripping his arm away from your grasp.

 "Derek, come on." You laughed again, trying to get him to the bathroom. "No!" He protested again.

 "I told you; I'm married and my wife won't like this. Plus I love her too much to do this to her and cheat on her. She's soooo amazing. Like very amazing. You know the other day I was sick and she called my mom to get the recipe of the soup she always made me as a kid. She's very sweet. I loooove her. Plus she's very good in bed... like... extremely good. Especially when she does that thing with he-"

 You stopped Derek's drunk babbling by placing a hand over his mouth, making him look up at you confused as ever. "Derek, honey..." That caught his attention and stopped his babbling completely, as you crouched down to be on eye level with him.

 "I am your wife. You're married to me." You flashed him your wedding ring, making him gasp in surprise and delight. "You are?! That's so cool! I have a very beautiful wife." He smiled sheepishly, now letting you drag him to the shower.

 "You tell her daily, honey." You chuckled, stripping him free of his clothes.

 He smiled as the warm water started hitting his skin, but his smile only got wider when you took your shirt off and stepped in the shower as well.

 In your defense, it was a very good shirt that Derek got you and you were not going to ruin it.

 "Hi." He smiled sheepishly at you, letting you wash his back. "Hi honey." You smiled back at him, kissing his cheek quickly before getting back to work.

 Once dry and in pyjamas, you got Derek under the covers and then slipping in bed next to him. Just as you thought he hadn't made a move on you yet, the man hovered over you, pressing sloppy kisses around your neck.

 "Derek, not now, my love." You said with a small smile, enjoying the feeling.

 "Whyyy?" He whined like a child, continuing his trail of kisses on your neck and jaw. "Because you're not thinking straight. You're drunk." You stated, trying to get him to stop, making him whine like a child again.

 "Please? Come on, I missed youuuu." He slurred again, kissing your face, "Tell you what; if you feel that same way tomorrow morning, then we'll do it." You tried to make a deal with him, knowing he'd be way too hungover to do anything.

 And he won't remember a thing.

 "Fiiine." He slumped next to you, placing his head on your chest as he breathed in your perfume. Before either of you knew it he was dead asleep and honestly so were you.

 When the morning rolled around and Derek woke up, of course he had a pounding headache. You had woken up way before him and that gave you the opportunity to make him breakfast. Derek walked in the kitchen in a search for you and a very confused look on his face that was washed away by pure relief when he found you.

 His arms wrapped around your waist and his chin rested on your shoulder as he kissed the side of your neck softly, "Hi." He mumbled, his voice hoarse and raspy from sleep and pain mixed together.

 "Good morning. Recognise me today?" You teased him, turning around in his arms, meeting his confused face. "I tried to get you to dress and shower yesterday but you kept telling me you're married." You reminded him making him groan and rest his forehead on your shoulder.

 "Jesus Christ, how much did I drink?" He groaned, his face now burried between your neck and shoulder.

 "A lot, honey." You chuckled.

 He gathered all the strength he had and lifted you to the counter, making you yelp in surprise. He connected his lips to yours as you smiled, cupping his face in your hands. "You know what would help with my headache?" He mumbled between kisses, making you laugh.

 "Don't laugh, sweetheart. Plus, you did make a deal with me last night."

 To your surprise, he did remember. "You remember that?" You asked in pure surprise, as his kisses trailed from your lips to your jawline, as he hummed in agreement, "Of course I do." He mumbled.

 "Don't want to break the deal now do you?" He asked with a smirk as his face rose from your neck. "The food will get cold." You pouted in a teasing manner, to which he responded with a chuckle.

 "I'll make us something else." He muttered before hoisting you up and walking back to your bedroom.

[knoxic]

A kiss may ruin a human life.

Oscar Wilde

-Masterlist- part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4

wc: 3k

warnings: usual cm things? angst, Aaron being horny again but I doubt that's an issue

a/n: I actually wrote smut in this part but it got so big I had to cut off lmao

Time passed strangely.

The car ride to the station was weird and silent, the elevator was too small, a couple officers looked at you weirdly but you never felt more relieved to be in a police station as you were now. Missing person records were scattered all over the place, set up specifically for your team, the door to the room the BAU had been using was left open, the round table in the middle was surrounded by maps and pictures of possible suspects.

"Oh, hello!" so focused on getting away from Aaron you had failed to realize Derek was watching you since you stepped out of the elevator, "What took you so long, honey?"

"Look who's talking, you are always at least 10 minutes late."

"That's because I got things to do" he smirked and even dared a wink "But you... Are always on time, I got curious that's all."

Opting to answer with a slight slap on his muscled arm, you left him and went to search for some coffee, the constant change in emotions left you dizzy with a foggy brain, your stomach grumbling did not help.

The embarrassing noise it made reminding you that those peanuts you ate for dinner are not actually meant to fill your stomach. Coffee was already being brewed despite not having many officers working this late, you supposed it was probably one of your teammates. There were some packages of food next to an old box of pizza and some napkins, nasty.

A sudden husky voice from the entrance door echoed inside the small room, the speed in which you lifted your head made your tense neck hurt.

"JJ is getting us something to eat, well, something better than..." with 'better' he meant healthier, there was barely any food in there and the only things that were edible did not really seem edible. With a hand gesture he pointed to the package in your hand, to be honest you had picked it up just to try and figure out what it was, not exactly meaning to eat it.

"Good, she always knows what we want." throwing the package back to where it sat before, you leaned on the counter trying to look unaffected, over the years you had mastered the art of having no facial expression, yet, you couldn't hide from the person standing in front of you.

...

He noticed the way you stepped out of the elevator, your head being held high even if your mind seemed to be elsewhere, the minute you two spent side by side in that tiny space seemed to have made your confidence slip. Heading to the meeting room to see Dave he walked past you and Morgan talking, he couldn't hear what was said before but the smirk on Derek's face told him enough-

"That's because I got things to do." spoke that teasing voice he was so familiarized with, making him stop, "But you... Are always on time, I got curious that's all." turning back, he saw the way you glared at the guy, tired and unfocused but with a hint of the flame that always showed when you were being teased, your mouth opened and closed but no words came out, your hand raising slowly to give the man's arm a weak slap, making your way around Derek your feet dragged you towards the kitchen.

His heart felt lighter and his lungs could finally take a deep breath. He knew the relationship you maintained with the team was at maximum, friendship. You were strictly professional and barely ever laughed at the dumb jokes and acts Derek and Emily pulled, holding back your own dumb remarks for an off work time, he had caught a glimpse of it once. At the time he wasn't aware how deep in he was for you so it didn't really affect him the way you threw you body at Emily from laughing too hard, or the way Derek always kept his hands on you, a simple trick to make people think you were unavailable and to keep creepy men away from you, he used that with Garcia too. Unfortunately for Aaron, it worked so well that it even kept himself away from you.

Following you was a decision his heart made and his mind didn't argue with. After what happened tonight he could use some caffeine to keep himself sane, the words you two exchanged seemed to have been said yesterday and not 45 minutes ago.

His phone, which he had found strangely under his go bag, now tucked into his left pocket buzzed twice, the walk to the kitchen was rather small so he stopped to check the messages. Both of them being from JJ and he could already guess what they said.

"Hotch!"

'Don't let anyone eat yet, I'll get us something.' paired with a winking emoji. Good, he didn't think anyone would eat the food here anyway.

He was wrong.

Seeing you with a 'snack' on your hand made his eyebrows go up and the sides of his mouth pull down, you wouldn't... "JJ is getting us something to eat, well, something better than..." his mouth worked fast, you hadn't acknowledged his presence, the slip on your expression when you looked up made him cringe at himself, you looked frightened before staring at him like a blank wall.

He heard your voice and saw your mouth moving but paid no attention to what was being said. He was focused on the way your body leaned on the counter and the way you tried so hard to keep a straight face.

Not knowing what he was supposed to say, he only nodded and walked over to the coffee machine right beside you. Grabbing two cups and filling them without saying anything, you kept watching him, he was close enough that his arm brushed yours a couple times.

"Did you talk to Rossi yet?" your voice was almost a whisper.

"No, not yet." he pushed one of the cups in your direction before mirroring your position against the counter. "Did Derek say anything?" he couldn't stop himself from asking.

"About the case?" he nodded. "No."

"What did he say then?" Oh my god, Aaron.

You laughed, a sarcastic laugh with no actual humor behind.

"Why would I tell you?" you grabbed the cup and left the kitchen.

...

"We thought he was only taking girls, right? But we were wrong, I asked Garcia to take a look at other bodies found in the area because I was sure I had seen something similar. Two young boys were taken a few weeks ago, few days in between and were found dead after three days too. I had seen their pictures and something clicked. The unsub has a type! People who look innocent and small, in general someone who look defenseless you know?" He took some time to place all of the victims pictures on the table.

"We profiled that he was impulsive," his messy hair and fumbling fingers made him look like a crazy magician. "But actually, he's extremely cautious and calculated." his rambling went on for what felt like hours.

"Reid!"

"Sorry, Hotch!" he took a deep breath, "What I'm trying to say is, he's smart. He plans everything twice before acting. He chooses the victims based on their relationship with their partners, all of them had abusive boyfriends, one of the boys was married to a woman twenty years older than him, not that age means anything! But they apparently started dating when he had just turned eighteen..."

"How did we not see that they were all in a abusive relationship?" Emily sounded surprised because normally, relationships is one of the first things to be checked.

"We did." Aaron sighed. "But toxic relationships are unfortunately common enough that we just... ignored it."

"So, what do we do now?" you asked. On the way to the police station you were excited to hear what Spence had figured out, now feeling what was about to come did not ease your anxiety.

"I think some of us are going to have a date tomorrow" damn Dave and his teasing.

"Fortunately not me." Emily said while raising both hands, "I flirted with a psycho last time, I deserve a little break."

"All of them had dark hair..." You could see how JJ was relieved, she was almost always pretty much like the victims, blonde and innocent looking.

"I am too old."

"Oh, now you think you're old?"

"Don't push it, Emily." Dave rolled his eyes before turning to you. "I think you should go, you look innocent and young, dark haired and small."

"Ok, I'll go. Who am I dating?"

"I could go." bless Emily.

"I thought you were taking a break? I'll go, I'm strong and intimidating." Derek ignored her.

"Yeah I think you'd be good at it, considering you basically gaslight all your girlfriends into breaking up with you." Emily laughed.

Aaron was strangely quiet. after you walked into the room and stood behind a chair, he had taken a place right beside you. If you didn't profile people for a living, you'd think nothing of it, but you knew he did it for a deeper reason. Everybody knew you two were sharing a room, and everyone had the tendency to stand close to whoever they roomed with, you two were no different. If he chose a place far away from you like he wanted to, it would be too obvious something had happened.

"I think it's funny how none of us considered Reid." You said. "Maybe we could ask that rookie to help?" you could hear a sigh coming from your side right after the words left your mouth.

"He almost cried when Dave gave him a lesson on how to handle the victims parents, you think he can play your toxic boyfriend?" His voice was slightly raised and the word 'boyfriend' had a mocking tone. From where you were looking at him you could also see Emily and JJ exchanging a look. "I'll do it." Nobody questioned him.

The next couple hours were spent planning and then you two were being sent back to the hotel. In a few hours, after the sun came up, you would probably be going out to pick some clothes, and after that you'd be rehearsing your role. While Aaron would be acting like a complete asshole, you couldn't help but feel some butterflies in your stomach. Fake dating Aaron Hotchner was the closest you'd be to the real thing and if it wasn't for a mission, you would certainly be making the most of it.

When you got inside the room the first thing you did was take your sneakers off and find the shorts you were wearing earlier, going straight to the bathroom to change. You brushed your teeth again and went back intending to ignore Aaron, unfortunately for you, he was sitting on your bed facing the bathroom.

"Can we talk?"

"Now you want to talk? Now?" You weren't yelling, yet.

"Listen, tomorrow it's going to be just me and you alone, I thought it would be best if we talk now."

"I actually think the opposite." you walked to your bed and threw your clothes above your bag, there'll be time to fold it later. "You are going to act like an asshole anyway so if we just continue like this you won't have to pretend." you were now facing him from the end of the bed, he was still in the same position but his neck was bent in a weird way to look at you.

"What do you mean I won't have to pretend?" he raised his voice and turned a leg to rest above the bed. "You actually think I would be like all those fucking idiots?"

"No, I'm just saying it would be easier to not have to pretend this fucking awkward thing between us." if he was raising his voice then you could too, and you did.

"How do you expect me to treat you poorly when I know we're already on bad terms?"

"Aaron, you already did treat me poorly, and in front of everyone! You doubted my profile skills, you questioned my methods in front of other officers, you brushed off my theories so many times even when everyone believed them... You have been toxic, playing a toxic boyfriend won't be so hard for you."

He didn't know you felt that way, he always thought so highly of you that sometimes he felt like he needed to brush a few things off. He got lost.

"I didn't know you felt that way."

"Why would you?" he didn't answer. "You realize the BAU is not a normal unit right?" Now he looked like he was expecting you to finish talking, "Normally, we do have to trust each other and have a certain connection, but we don't always get treated like family. Sometimes we don't even like some coworkers, for a couple units I've been in we didn't even talk outside work. The BAU makes you feel special, like you actually add something to the team that no one else has. You are a big part of the team, and a big part of why I felt special... but for a while now you make me feel like I'm fucking dumb and useless."

From and outsiders perspective, you two looked broken.

"I am so sorry you felt that way."

There wasn't any answer from you, your arms were crossed tightly over your chest. Your eyes weren't meeting his but from what he could see they were teary too.

"I always trusted you, to the point where Dave asked if I was giving you special treatment on purpose. I wasn't. You have always been a good agent and an even better profiler. Your work is impeccable but as a unit chief I couldn't give you the treatment I would like to give. At some point I got scared that I would slip and compliment you too much, when we first started interacting outside work I noticed how much I actually liked you as a friend, and I had to put a stop to it before it got too far. Except I was late and went too far, I liked you too much already and I didn't know how to stop being so nice to you so I just started pushing you away. So many stories from Derek breaking up with his girlfriends gave me an idea and I hated having to do that, always hated hearing him tell me how he manipulated them just so he wouldn't be the bad boyfriend, but it worked. I see now I should've never done that and I am so sorry I made you feel the way you felt."

"Feel."

"Sorry?"

"Feel. You said felt but I still feel."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, thanks."

There was this weird silence in the room, not as weird as the other ones were but still uncomfortable.

"This is probably not the best time to say this but-"

"Oh my god! What are you doing? We finally communicated!" you groaned while dropping your head into your hands.

"-I think I'm in love with you..."

"What the hell happened with 'not sure we should act on it' bullshit you pulled out earlier?" you were sure you two would've woken the people sleeping on the rooms close to yours, thankfully they were all too busy working in a police department now.

"We acted on it anyway! We're not fucking but we acted like a married couple fighting today!" and the 'not fucking' part also contributes. He stood up but didn't get any closer to you.

"And whose fault is that?"

"What? What did I do?"

"Aaron, what the fuck? First you told me you liked me and then you just brushed me off when I said I liked you back. You didn't let me leave the room and pulled a move like I was a teenager and you were the parent taking my phone off, then later you just pretended nothing happened but looked so fucking jealous that I talked to Derek."

"Okay, it's my fault! I'm sorry, but I already told you, I like you and Derek is a fucking threat to anyone!"

"I told you I like you back, you idiot! Derek is not a threat for you!"

"What did you call me?"

"Idiot. Is that the only thing you paid attention to?"

"No..."

Oh my god...

"Are you-" no way.

"Yeah..." he whispered.

"You liked being called idiot?"

He was hard. His left hand making a move to adjust his pants, a tent making itself bigger. He looked embarrassed, his cheeks were getting red and he couldn't look you in the eye.

"No, I like you."

"You can't just do this, you know?" your head was pounding and you raised a hand to apply pressure with your thumb and index finger to both sides of it. In merely a few hours you had gone through so many emotions and now you could even feel a certain warmth on your lower belly. "You make me confused."

"I am sorry and I want to fix it." he was stepping closer to you now, "Please, let me?"

"I'm not confused in a sexual way, I find you extremely hot and all that. I'm confused in a way that I need you to explain your actions and feelings because I feel like there's more to it than you told me." your eyes were still closed and you only opened them when you felt his hands touching both of your arms.

"I will, I promise. But I can't handle this anymore."

"Aaron..."

His toes were touching yours from how close he had gotten, his hands kept moving up and down your arms, occasionally squeezing your flesh. He was so close, his touches warmed up your skin, his ragged breath fanned your face. You couldn't, you shouldn't... But he was so tempting and you were tired of holding back.

Taglist: @mrs-ssa-hotch @emobabeyy

[wintersxani]

Pls pls PLS Emily x fem reader where Em is a PROFESSOR!! And reader is her colleague and there’s some slow burn tension between them. Smutty deliciousness always:) thank you

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐨 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 | Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

Warning(s): Slow burn, smut, oral sex, fingering

Word Count: 2707

Characters: Emily Prentiss

Summary: Having had tension filled moments with your colleague, Professor Prentiss, the two of you give in to your lustful desires.

A/N: Thank you so much for this request; I can never get enough of Emily smut. Hope you enjoy lovelies <3

When you first started your job, Professor Prentiss was the first to introduce herself. Her smile was radiant, energy warm. That smile made you feel all warm inside, spreading a smile across your own face. "Emily Prentiss, Psychology Professor. You must be y/n?" The way her lips moves was... entrancing. You nodded in return, eyes moving back to hers as the corner of her mouth tugged into a smirk. Her handshake was firm as you introduced yourself and your position. She wasn't obligated to show you around campus or to your own classroom, but she did, claiming it was the least she could do.

You turned to her with an appreciative grin, not missing the way her eyes darted from your lips to your eyes in a split second. "Thank you again, Prentiss. God knows I'd be lost in this place without your guide." A laugh slipped from your lips as she beamed in return, her tongue gliding across her bottom lip before she bit down on her wettened lip, moving her hand in a dismissing gesture. "Please, call me Emily. Like I said, it's the least I can do, really. You'll love it here."

And you did. As months passed, you found yourself looking forward to seeing her down the hall, sending a subtle nod or wave her way after classes were over, sitting together at lunch. You'd talk about anything and everything, really getting to know each other with the spare time you'd have.

Your brain was in a state of indecisiveness, unable to decipher what exactly you felt for her as you recalled the day you wore a plunging v-line, catching each subtle glance towards your chest she'd make. You could've sworn she could see your heart pounding in your chest. Then there was last week, when the two of you walked through the front doors, and she placed her hand on the mid of your back, hand brushing against yours once you were side by side; Without fail, chills ran through your body whenever she made contact with you. Or the lingering stares between both of you in the quietist of moments. The way her eyes seemed to drag along your body when she didn't think you saw- but oh, you definitely saw.

The moment you couldn't forget was when the two of you went out to a bar a month ago, and you had to drive her very intoxicated self home. She was, to gently say, all over you. When you were about to leave her apartment, her hand wrapped around your wrist, giving it a light tug. You turned to face her, and her lips were on yours. You were shocked, but you kissed her back. She tasted of whisky and cherries, a taste you never wanted to forget. When she pulled back from you, all she whispered was 'stay' before plopping down on her bed. She had passed out almost immediately after, and had no recollection of the night the following day. She just thanked you for bringing her home after you informed her, and you simply said; "It's the least I could do."

As you stood at the back of her class during your free period, you watched her pace back in forth, examining how she managed to keep each of her students captivated. She had passion for her job, and knew she was good at it. She walked and conversated with such confidence that was almost... intimidating. As she dismissed her students, her eyes landed on you in the back, a small smile gracing her features. "Y/N."

"Emily." You greeted, walking down the rows to stand in front of her desk, where she had been sat. Once again, you wore a plunged V-neck, testing the waters today. As you leaned over the desk, you watched as her eyes fought to stay on yours. "I've always heard of how highly our colleagues talk about you and your teaching... after seeing you in action, you've gotta teach me your methods. I can't keep over five of my student's attention for half the class."

She laughed at this, eyebrows raising for a second. "Hate to say it but... it's just natural." She leans back in her chair, head tilting as she looked up to you with a smug look on her face. "Seems like you're a natural at everything."

"You have no idea." A smirk formed on her lips as the atmosphere shifted around you. Something about the random boldness she'd display made you grin. Your type had always been dominant or confident women, and she seemed to fit that type perfectly. If your intuition was right, she was definitely putting out signs for you... but this was your colleague. Your co-worker that you saw every day. Your lips parted, but nothing came out. You didn't even know what she felt for you, if she felt anything; but there was no denying you had formed feelings for her. You still craved that whisky and cherry flavor she left on your lips for those few seconds. "Would you want to have drinks at my place tonight?" Her words pulled you from your thoughts, and your eyes away from her lips. Your eyebrows furrowed for a second before you nodded vaguely. "Yea- Yeah. I'd love that. I could use one after this week."

"I hear you, y/n. Seven fine?" She inquired, playing with your name in her mouth. "Seven's perfect."

-

You stood outside her apartment door, holding a bottle of pricy red wine in your hand as you adjusted your skin-tight black dress. Just as you began to overthink your decisions, she opened her door, already wearing a toothy grin. "I just thought I'd bring my best bottle of wine." You clarified after seeing her eyes dart to the bottle in hand. "Perfect for our collection tonight." She affirmed, stepping to the side to let you in. The red dress she wore complimented her dark hair and fair complexion tremendously. Red was your favorite color on her; she always wore it so well. As you set the bottle down on her kitchen counter, she met at your side, leaning against the marble. "You look great, y/n."

She hated that the way this black dress clung to your skin so tightly- it was hard for her to focus on anything but how fucking aroused she was. Your hair was pinned up, but there were strands that laid against your cheeks. It took every ounce of her willpower to not reach out and tuck them behind your ears. "You too, Em." You beamed, biting down on your lip as she placed her hand yet again on the mid of your back, guiding you over to the couch. Displayed on the coffee table laid hard liquor, a charcuterie board, fruit bowl, and three lit candles. Quite romantic for just friendly drinking, you noted. As you both sat down, you tucked your leg underneath you, placing your elbow over the top of the cushion. She poured both of you drinks, handing a concoction to you. As you took a sip, your eyes widened. It was strong, but it was good. "Is there anything you're not good at? This is amazing." You admitted as you drank more, watching her shrug. "I'm just a hands on, quick learner."

"What else do I not know about you? I feel like you're full of mysteries."

"Vous n’en avez aucune idée" (You have no idea). She spoke, words so intricate and fluent. Hearing her speak French was... riveting. "What did you just say?" You smiled, watching her mischievously grin in return. "Are you boasting about how much of a natural you are to my face and I'm just clueless or..."

"Je veux vous montrer à quel point je suis naturel." You stare blankly at her, wishing now more than ever that you were able to speak French. You observe her tongue glide across her bottom lip before she bites down on it as she leans closer to you. "I said, I want to show you how much of a natural I am."

Her eyes meet yours as you swallow hard, heart already beating fast. "Are you saying..."

"You know what I'm saying." Her voice is flirtatious but firm as she lifts your chin with a hooked finger, using her spare hand to take your glass and place it on the table. Realization settled within you as chills spiked throughout your body, goosebumps raising on your arms. She laughed softly at your awe-struck expression as she gulped down her drink, placing it on the table before scooching closer to you. "For months... all I could think about was you. Something about you just... makes me crazy. You have no idea how bad I've wanted you." She whispers, tracing her finger down your bare arm. You wanted to laugh at her words; she had no idea how bad you've wanted her.

Still being speechless, you only knew one way to show her what you felt. Your hands met her cheeks as you pulled her lips to yours, enveloping them together. They moved harmoniously; her tongue quick to slip past your lips. One of her hands was gripping your leg as the other held your neck, the kissing becoming more heated and passionate by the second. Her grip on your leg beckoned you to straddle her, so you did, throwing your arms around her neck.

Though it wasn't your first kiss, this one was undoubtedly better than you could've imagined as she put her fingers in your hair, pulling your head back a bit before her lips traveled down to your neck. "Can I touch you?" She inquired between kisses to your neck. You nodded vigorously as her hand moved from your thigh to beneath your dress, rubbing against your clothed cunt tenderly. You jolted slightly, letting out a small laugh as she pulled the skin of your neck between her teeth, littering your neck in hicky's.

Her finger moved back and forth before she pulled your panties to the side, making skin-to-skin contact that made you moan. Pulling away for a split second, she instructed you to open your mouth. As you complied, she put her thumb in your mouth, ordering you to suck on her finger. Her hand was back underneath your dress in a second, thumb rubbing that aching spot in a way that had you arching your back. "God, right there." You moaned as she planted kisses across your chest. "Does that make you feel good?"

"Yes- god yes." You mewled, gripping the couch as she applied more pressure. When she pulled her hand away, you let out a frustrated breath, looking down at her. "I just want to taste you already pretty girl." She shushed you, placing one kiss on your lips before moving your body from its straddled position, flipping you around as she got on her knees next to the couch. Her fingers gripped your thighs, bringing you closer to the edge before removing your undergarment.

As she trailed kisses up and down your thighs, you fidgeted, wanting a release to the immense arousal you were dealing with. "Please Em-" You started, not even able to finish before her tongue was gliding through your folds, sucking tenderly on your clit. One of your hands was gripping the cushions as the other was intertwined with one of hers beside your hip; you had a full view of her going down on you, eyes locked on her lust-filled ones. This certainly wasn't her first time given how skilled she was; she knew exactly what to do and how to do it.

Her tongue circled your aching spot before her lips were around it, sucking gently for a few seconds before cooing, "You taste so fucking good y/n." The way her tongue licked up and down your cunt made you whisper obscenities and pleas, gripping the cushions tighter. Pressure had already been building within your core as you threw your head back, holding her hair away from her face. Your mouth laid agape as she slid a finger inside of you, curling it to that sweet spot as she pumped against it. You were a moaning mess as she ate you out like a starved woman. "Right there-" You managed to spit out, and she obliged you, keeping up with the same pattern. As the pressure released, your back was arching whilst your legs shook. She continued to leave final kisses and licks to your cunt, beaming at the work she had just done before her. As your eyes returned to hers, you watched her suck on her finger, smiling as she withdrew it. "You're such a good girl." She cooed, intertwining her lips with yours once she was at your level.

At this point, you needed to please her. You ached to do so. As you pulled back for a breath, you tugged your dress over your head, taking your heels off. She followed your cue, doing the same. Your hand met hers, pulling her down to sit beside you. The next moments were filled with heavy breaths as you laid her on her back, admiring her breasts before taking one in your mouth, fondling the other with your newly manicured hand. As your tongue teased and flicked her nipple, small gasps left her lips. You moved your mouth to the other breast, treating it the same as the last. "Can I go down on you?" You requested, making sure you had her consent before you proceeded. She nodded in return, watching as you trailed kisses down her abdomen. Your fingers hooked around her black lace underwear, pulling them off and tossing them to the side. You scooched to the edge of the opposite side of the sofa, feet dangling off the end as you perched on your elbows and knees, your ass up in the air.

"Don't mind me, just enjoying the view." She smirked as she pulled your hair up, tilting her head as you smiled. Your mouth was on her cunt in seconds, making sure to savor every inch of her as your tongue explored, licking stripes up and down, circling her clit, etc. You noticed how she'd moan when you switched between flicking your tongue across her clit, followed by sucking tenderly. Her taste simply aroused you, but watching as her hips rolled and her breath hitched was something that could have made you come undone. "You're so good at that- such a good girl." She moaned, tightening her grip around your hair as her eyes shut tightly. You continued what you learned she liked best, plunging your tongue inside of her a couple times as you used three of your fingers to rub against her aching spot. "Fuck y/n!"

She could feel you smiling against her once your tongue replaced your fingers; when you swished her clit within your mouth, she couldn't help but arch her back, whimpering your name, and pet names, continuously. "Faster- right there. That's my good girl." She breathed, and you indulged, moving your tongue at a faster pace to bring her to her climax. Your hand pressed down on her core as the pressure built; her back arched higher as she gripped the side of the couch, curses being thrown out of her mouth as her legs inched closer together.

Her cunt was sopping, but you obliged yourself to lick your work up, savoring the taste of her on your tongue. Her breathing was heavy as her chest rapidly raised and fell; eyes drooped once they met yours. "You did so good y/n. You drive me fucking crazy." She chuckled, pulling you up over her body before crashing her lips on yours. Given you were both out of breath, she poured the two of you another drink, throwing a blanket over both of your bare bodies; you slumped against her as she strung her arm around your shoulders, kissing your forehead once.

"So, is it safe to say this isn't a one-time thing?" You inquired, looking up at her as she took a drink. She grinned down at you, still trying to catch her breath before she tilted your face up towards hers, kissing you softly. As she pulled back, she wore a gentle smile. "Definitely not a one-time thing."

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[rosaline-black]

well! in the spirit of being hungover, how about a fluffy hotch and reader where they're nursing their respective hangovers together after a night out with the team? i could see a debate occurring on whether or not pickle juice is an effective hangover cure.

Warnings: mentions of drinking!! Bau!reader since it’s my fave. Mentions of hangovers so maybe don’t read this if you are, I wrote this hungover and trust me it didn’t help. Also I reference rage against the machine since they’re my go to karaoke band. What can I say I love chaos.

The pounding in his head was almost as distracting as the foot digging into his… well somewhere he would rather it not be digging. Last night was impromptu to say the least. He’d been getting into more impromptu situations since he met you, and usually he loved it. Hotch had been more spontaneous over the last few years then he had been his whole life. But sometimes spontaneity feels great in the moment, but not the day after.

This was a prime example.

“Honey… your foot…”

Hotch attempted to reason but if there was one thing he didn’t want to do it was piss you off. Rossi had once made a joke about your messy hair the morning after a pretty wild night out with the team. You didn’t speak to Dave for two weeks after that. It took flowers and a $50 bottle of wine to win you back over and honestly, Hotch didn’t like the idea of not hearing your voice for two weeks (and forking out $50).

“What…”

Your head was still very much smooshed into the pillow so your speech had been rendered into more of a groan then anything considered English. Aaron loved when you were like this. Pouty and a little bit scary.

“Your foot it’s… you’re kind of kicking me…”

At any other moment you’d giggle at how unsure the usually authoritative guy beside you sounded, but the ache in almost every part of your body was overshadowing any joy you may of felt. Moving your foot away from Aaron’s uh crotch area… you turned to open your eyes and face him.

To your surprise he looked just as bad as you felt. Lipstick marks all over his cheeks, dark under eye circles and you could still smell the aroma of lingering tequila which instantaneously made your stomach flip. And not in the head over heels way you usually felt when looking at your partner. It was more like ‘if I smell u any longer I’m gonna throw up the entire bar I drank last night’.

“Please brush your teeth…”

Aarons eyes visibly widened at your blunt frankly kind of rude statement. But who was he to tell you no. And well, you were probably on to something since the inside of his mouth tasted like hand sanitiser.

“Good morning to you too dear…”

Once standing, the full effects of his hangover kicked in. The trademark nausea and dizziness washed over him like a tsunami. Ignoring the overwhelming inclination to empty the contents of his stomach, Aaron successfully brushed his teeth and clambered back into his bed, grabbing a hold of you like you were his life raft.

For about fifteen minutes the pair of you laid in each others arms, cringing at the moments that led to your current predicament. Hotch remembered singing god only knows by the beach boys to you and unfortunately he also remembered Emily’s phone filming the entire thing.

“Did I sing rage against the machine at karaoke last night?”

Hotch snorts at the memory of you screaming ‘fuck you I won’t do what you tell me’ to the tune of killing in the name. Instead of telling you that yes in fact that did happen, he simply kisses your forehead.

Your phone screen catches Hotch’s attention next. You’re typing away furiously, like whatever you were searching for was of utmost importance. In fact Hotch had seen you put less effort into catching serial killers, which is saying a lot since he’s convinced nobody throws themselves into their job like you do.

“Honey you’ll smash your screen if you tap it that hard…”

“Do you think pickle juice will fix this?”

Now Hotch has two options. He can laugh and hope you’re kidding… which seems less and less viable the more he senses the seriousness of your statement. He lands on a neutral statement.

“…fix what?”

Your eyes roll and you tap at your head and then gesture to your face. He’s sure you’re trying to say you look bad but honestly, Hotch can’t imagine a lifetime where you don’t look perfect.

“This pounding in my head… this ache that’s making me want to lay down and die…” You shove your phone in his face and hotch attempts to not flinch at the brightness of whatever click bait wellness page you’ve stumbled across “… it said pickle juice cures hangovers… something about the acidity…”

Aaron’s arm circles around your waist and pulls you to lay on top of his chest, carefully taking your phone in the process.

“Here’s a hangover cure idea… you order some fast food… I’ll go fetch us some litre bottles of water and we’ll spend the day in bed… deal?”

Hotch hopes you give up on the pickle juice idea. He’s pretty sure there’s none downstairs and the thought of going to any kind of grocery store feeling the way he does sounds similar to walking the gates of hell. He hears your answer in the restful sigh you exhale.

“Deal…”

[happiest-hotch]

Secrets

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader (hurt and comfort)

Word Count: 3.7k

Content Warning: gunshot injury, mention of blood

There had been a debate about who would go and talk to him. Reid counted the pros and cons once they voted him off because they all worried he would launch into the statistics about whether or not she was going to live- statistics that weren't good-

JJ was too upset to be giving counsel and Morgan was on the phone with Garcia, trying to provide her with some comfort- something that was going unsuccessfully.

So that left Prentiss and Rossi, both of which didn't exactly want the job. It's seemingly impossible to offer advice to someone who never needed any, especially when this was easily one of the worst days of his life.

Emily volunteered so that Rossi could go back to the precinct with everyone else and wrap up the rest of the case, another job that was usually left for Aaron.

They could all feel the pain radiating off him as he sat in the uncomfortable hospital chair without moving an inch. Even if he would deny he cared about her more than anyone else, Emily was determined to do something.

"You should change." She told him, handing over a shirt and some dress pants of his that JJ had brought from his go bag once they realized he would not be leaving the hospital.

Aaron didn't move an inch. He stayed sat there with his body hunched over and his elbows resting on his knees, barely acknowledging her. His blue dress shirt was covered in blood, but he'd loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button.

It isn't meant to happen once to someone- being covered in the blood of someone you love- but it's happened to him twice now. Only this time, there was some tiny hope that the woman he loved would get to live and he was between trying to hold on to that hope and preparing himself for what was statistically the most likely outcome.

Aaron didn't even turn his head to look at her, but she could see the shiny tears against his cheek. "Do you know the last time I told her I loved her?" He asked, a question so far out of left field that she couldn't hide the way her mouth dropped open in shock.

"I didn't even know..." She started, unsure how to finish the thought.

"No one did." He cut her off, wondering whether or not the decision was right. If they had come clean with everyone then at least he would have been able to hold her hand in the SUV on the way to the unsub's house.

Emily looked back at where the team had been standing. "Rossi's claiming he did." She countered.

It made Aaron scoff lightly. If they weren't in the hospital and if there wasn't a large chance she was going to die, it might have been sweet for Rossi to insist he knew they loved each other just from the way they looked at each other.

"So...how long?" She asked.

Aaron knew she was trying to distract him, trying to get his mind off a situation he couldn't do anything about, so he played ball. "A year and a half, we live together."

Once again, Emily couldn't stop the shock etched on her features. She had no idea how none of them notice for so long. "Are you going to tell me that story then?"

Summertime in DC not only meant that it was warm in the mornings, but it also meant the sun was up earlier enough that Y/n and Aaron didn't have to wake up in the dark. Instead, once the obnoxious sounding alarm went off, they could open the curtains and the golden light could stream into the bedroom.

"Good morning." He mumbled, his cheek against his pillow so he could look at her while he lay face down on the bed.

"Hey." She replied, cupping his cheek and leaning forward so she can kiss him. It was past odd to see him like this, but occasionally she still thought about when he barely smiled and how lucky she was to see him with a smile and no shirt almost every day.

Aaron couldn't help the smile on his lips when she pulled away. He wrapped his arm around her waist, trying to close the distance that had been created between them in the night.

She stayed laying on her side, placing kisses all over his cheeks while tangling their legs together. "You kinda need to shave." She mumbled, fingers resting on the slight stubble along his chin.

"Heard no complains last night." He reminded her with a cheeky smirk.

"Be quiet." She scolded playfully. Aaron shook his head against the pillow, hair flopping around. In one motion, he turned over onto his back and pulled her on top of him. "We're going to have to get up in a moment, you know?" She asked, wrapping her arms around his waist regardlessly.

He shook his head again, nuzzling into her neck. "No, don't wanna."

"The team needs their leader, Hotchner." She told him, half-jokingly as she pulled back to give him the full effect of a peptalk. "You need to give the people what they want."

That made him laugh, his chest moving her up and down. "I'm all about giving a couple of special people what they want." He remarked, resting their foreheads together while he drew circles against her bare skin.

"So, you're making breakfast then?" She asked, smirking at him.

"I walked right into that, didn't I?" He returned, although he had no problem at all with it.

Y/n nodded, a joyful smile on her face at the little victory. "I would make you, but I actually want to." She decided.

"Then you're always going to be Jack's favorite." He pouted, big brown eyes locked on hers.

"Aw, that's so sad." She said sarcastically, a smile on her lips.

He used the hands that he had at her side to tickle her waist, making her squirm around on top of him while giggling. "Not stopping till you apologize." He declared.

"S-sorry! Sorry, sorry." She squealed out, thrashing around until he stopped. "Jeez, someone woke up on the wrong side of bed." She huffed.

"Y/n L/n, I will go again." He cautioned, hands back on her waist again threateningly.

She shook her head. "Not if you want breakfast, you won't."

"Fine, fine." He conceded, holding his hands up.

With one hand, she grabbed both his wrists. "You're in trouble now." She warned, using her other hand to try and tickle him in revenge.

"Sweetheart, I'm not ticklish." He reminded her.

"I'll get you back." She promised, still holding his wrists together. "When you least expect it."

He used how much stronger he was than her to flip them around, so his knee was between her thighs and he was leaning over her. "I can't wait." He whispered in her ear in agreement.

Y/n leaned up to run her hand through his hair. "Don't get too sexy with me, Aaron. Otherwise, there will be no BAU today."

"Don't tempt me." He quipped, getting up off the bed. It was beautiful to see him so relaxed in the mornings, a grin on his face.

Y/n held her hands out so he would pull her up. He did so effortlessly and wrapped his arms tightly around her to hug her. For a minute, they stood like that, Aaron with his head on top of hers, and Y/n with her head buried into his chest.

"I'll shower, and you do breakfast?" He asked, reiterating their plan.

"Mhm." She agreed, leaning up to kiss him before they split and he sauntered off to the ensuite while she went through their bedroom door.

Jack's room was down the hallway in the townhouse they brought and moved into months ago. It would have been nice to have the team helping them; Garcia helping with the decor, Morgan lifting the heavy furniture, Reid to figure out how to get their couch in the small doorway, JJ to provide a friend for Jack, Rossi to bring the celebratory scotch, and Prentiss to bring the snacks. But it didn't work out like that, and they were still happy.

Jack wasn't in his bedroom, but the Captain America covers were perfectly made, so she continued her search down the hall. "Good morning, little man." She greeted him, leaning against the bathroom doorframe as she watched him spit out his mouth full of toothpaste in the sink.

"Not little." He complained, hanging up his toothbrush before getting down off the bathroom stool. "I've grown 4 inches since kindergarten, dad said."

"Well, if you wanna grow some more, then you're going to need some breakfast, big man." Y/n reminded him, following after the 6-year-old as he bounced down the hallway, and to the kitchen.

Jack was already talking about his day and about all the things he was going to do on that particular Tuesday in first grade, and Y/n was listening intently like usual. She always found him interesting, even if he was talking about kid stuff.

"Get on up, partner." She instructed, nodding to the bar stool and walking to the other side of the kitchen island. She opened the fridge, pouring him the glass of apple juice he had every morning while she spoke. "What are you feeling like on this beautiful morning?"

"Pancakes." He cheered, amending his speech when Y/n shot him a look with raised eyebrows. "Pretty please."

She nodded at his request, turning back around to get some more things out of the fridge before she started making the pancakes on the stretch of bench in front of Jack.

"Do you ever feel scared?" Jack asked an out-of-left-field question she was used to getting from him.

Except this question sounded like it could be adjacent to his mom. "Sometimes, but daddy and I are always super safe." She assured him.

He still looked like the cogs of his mind were turning. "Did you know my mom?" There it was, and she wished Aaron was there to help her navigate her answer.

"I didn't." She answered honestly. "But she must have been pretty amazing to make you."

"I still talk to her sometimes," Jack revealed casually.

She was thankful he felt like he could talk about it openly because she never wanted him to feel censored. "That's good, bud. I'm sure she's looking out for you."

"I think she's looking out for Daddy and you, too." He told her.

"It makes me really happy that you think that, Jack. Thank you." She said honestly, feeling a bit teary-eyed at such an early hour of the morning.

As quick as the conversation was there, it was gone, and Jack was talking about his friend's birthday party on the weekend.

She turned to the stove once she finished the mixture. Then Jack giggled just a second before two tight arms were wrapping around her waist.

The shock made her squeal and spin around to hit his shoulder. "Aaron Hotchner." She growled as Jack burst into a fit of giggles. Aaron clearly found it funny too and she could feel his chest move as he chuckled.

"Sorry, sorry." He apologized insincerely with a smile on his face. She couldn't even stay faux mad with him while he held her, strong forearms holding her tightly as he rested his head on top of hers.

The cologne she loved so much was stronger than the smell of pancakes due to how close he was standing. Compared to his dress shirt, tie, and dress pants, she was dressed in only a shirt of his and some of her pajama shorts.

"You better be sorry if you want any of these pancakes." She threatened without any malice as she flipped the last few pancakes.

Aaron let go of her after he kissed her cheek, taking the stack of pancakes and holding them out so Jack could put some on his own plate.

"Thank you, Y/n," Jack said, smiling at her as he tipped strawberries onto his plate.

"Bud, I think that's enough sugar," Aaron told him when he kept tipping the jar out. He pouted a little before continuing to eat his pancakes. The adults stayed on the other side of the bench while they ate, where they could watch each other and Jack.

Their usual morning routine progressed, and Y/n went to take a shower while Jack got dressed and Aaron cleaned up and made him lunch.

"Hey, bud, did you want grapes or an apple?" Aaron asked when Jack walked back into the kitchen, dressed with his backpack.

"Grapes." He answered, sitting down to put his shoes on. "Do you know what I was talking to Y/n about before?" Aaron didn't, and he shook his head while assuming it was something about his school. "Mom." He revealed.

Aaron kept a neutral face while he made Jack's lunch. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah," Jack assured him, providing more relief than he probably realized. "I think mom would have liked Y/n. She looks after me like mom always did."

"That's very sweet of you, Jack." He replied, a little bit stunned by the little boy and unsure of what to say. "I hope your mom would think that too." He commented, closing the lunch box. and handing it to the little boy. "Come give me a hug."

Jack obliged, wrapping himself around his dad's legs before Aaron picked him up. "What are we doing this weekend?" He asked, his brain already somewhere else when Aaron put him back down.

"You can pick whatever you want. We'll be back by then." Aaron promised, watching as Jack packed his bag.

"The jumpy place." Jack immediately decided.

"Perfect, we'll go that then." He agreed. "I'll go see if Y/n's ready, okay?"

Aaron had half expected her to be finished getting ready by now, considering she wouldn't have washed her hair since she did it the night before and that her go-bag was already packed.

When he got into the bedroom, Y/n was still in the bathroom. "Hey, love, are you alright?"

She looked at the pattern of the tiled deeper than she ever had before as she sat on the countertop. "Yeah, I'm good." She lied, hoping he wouldn't detect it in her voice. "I might drive myself, though. There's something I need to do, and I don't wanna make you or Jack late." It was only sounding more and more like a lie. "I'll bring you coffee."

It was good enough for Aaron, who was slightly frowning as he noticed her go-bag on the bed. "Okay, I'll see you in there then." He decided it was better not to argue when he checked his watch for the time. "I love you." He called out.

Y/n smiled, although she didn't exactly feel like it. "I love you, too. Tell Jack I love him."

Aaron missed almost all of the little details as he retold the story to Emily, still private about their lives even if everyone now knew. "I didn't think... that would be the last time." He said sadly.

"It won't." Emily tried to assure him. Even if she wasn't sure of it herself, she was going to do everything in her power to convince him of it.

"Jack can't-" That thought made him out a hand over his mouth to avoid crying too loudly. "He was young when we lost Haley, young enough he doesn't remember too much of it, but he's 6, almost 7 now, and he's going to understand what it means when she doesn't come home." He rambled a little, revealing how nervous he was.

Emily shook her head firmly. "He's not going. She'll be fine."

"This." Aaron gestured down to the blood drenching the shirt he had been wearing that morning in the kitchen. "Isn't fine. They don't think she'll be fine."

It was his worst nightmare all over again, but this time there wasn't a phone call as a way of a goodbye, this time he had to hold her body before she slipped out of consciousness while her blood poured all over him.

"So the statistics aren't great, but she's Y/n, and she's not going without a fight." Emily reminded him, and he knew that much was true. "She'll be fine, Aaron, and you two can get back to your normal lives." She assured him, using his first name in a seldom occurrence. "Preferably with us involved."

The 10 hours was an excruciating wait, but Aaron knew that with each minute that went on, she was alive so he watched the clock tick with Emily sitting next to him. That whole time he didn't do anything but look at the clock on the wall and think about everything they had together and everything he wanted in the future for them.

The bloody shirt was a constant reminder of her, and every time he looked down he wondered if the last time he touched her would be on the cold concert floor of the basement when he called for a medic and attempted to act professionally.

Finally, the doctor called her name, and he prepared himself for the worst. It flashed in front of his eyes as he walked towards the doctor; crying loudly in front of everyone, pitiful looks on the jet, having to call her family, having to tell Jack when they didn't come back home together, the funeral. Would he even go back to the BAU when it had taken so many people from him?

And then he got told she was okay. Hurt, but alive and going to be able to walk out of the hospital. The doctor explained it all to him and Emily as he walked them to Y/n's room. "The bullet missed any major arteries in her chest, and by some miracle, it didn't shatter her clavicle. Even though she's on lots of pain killers, she's going to be sore when she wakes up."

Wakes up. Because Y/n was going to wake up and they were going to get to live the rest of their lives together. That was the only thing in the world that mattered to him, so much more than the team knowing.

"Agent Hotchner." The doctor stopped him before he went into the door after Emily had stepped away to call the team with the good news. "Did you know?" She asked, turning the clipboard she was holding around to show him something on Y/n's chart.

He had to read it a few times before he realized what it said, and his eyes quickly filled with tears. "No." He replied in a whisper, shaking his head.

The doctor nodded with a little smile. "She should be waking up soon." She informed him, walking away when he finally twisted the knob on the door.

Aaron couldn't believe it when he looked at her in that hospital bed, but he had never been more grateful for trauma surgeons or whatever forces of the universe had made it possible for her to still be here when she was so close to death in his arms.

He sat in the chair next to her bed, finally able to breathe fully into his lungs when he touched her hand, and it was warm. Not as warm as it should be, but much warmer than it had been in the warehouse.

She squeezed his hand first before her eyelids fluttered open. "Hi." He squeaked out, tears already falling down his cheeks. "You're in the hospital." He told her, knowing what it's like to wake up somewhere unfamiliar when you have no idea what's going on.

Her eyes were still getting adjusted to the blaring white walls of the hospital. "What happened?" She asked groggily, pointing to the water in the hopes he'd know to pour her some so she didn't have to waste the words.

He did, and he sprung up to pour her a cup. "You got shot, so badly that they didn't know if you would live."

Y/n drank the water gratefully and tried to adjust on the bed, which was incredibly painful. "The unsub?"

"Dead, and the little girl's okay." He reported back to her and he should have known it would be her main concern. "But don't think about work. How are you feeling?"

"Pretty bad." She answered truthfully, trying to find the remote so she could sit up. "I need a hug." She told him, opening her arms as much as it hurt.

Aaron quickly hugged her as delicately as possible before cupping her cheeks and kissing her gently. "I love you." He told her the one thing he wished he hadn't waited so long to say.

"I love you, too." She replied. "But there is something I need to tell you."

Aaron tried to act like he didn't know, but he jumped in with his own confession. "Me too. They know."

That was something she could live with without any problems. After all, it was a long time coming. "I sure hope they do." She joked. "You better not have treated me like a colleague, Aaron."

Seeing the color return to her face relieved him and finally convinced him everything would be okay. "They know everything." He told her. "Well, most of it."

"Yeah... that." Y/n delicately spoke, biting her bottom lip.

"How long did you know?" He softly questioned. It wasn't her intention to cause her any extra stress.

"Tuesday morning." She mumbled. That made sense to him, why she wanted to drive herself when they always dropped Jack at school and drove to the BAU together. "Don't tell me off for not telling you because I wanted it to be special, and I sure as hell didn't think I'd get shot." She quickly pleaded with him. That was the problem with having your boyfriend as your boss.

Aaron shook his head, squeezing her hand. "I'm not going to tell you off, my love." He assured her. None of it was as important as having her alive. "Not when you're alive and okay."

"And pregnant."

[sequinsmile-x]

Protégé à Jamais

Aaron feels his blood boil, fury flooding his veins at the way the man in front of him dared to talk about the woman he loves.

-x-

Hi friends,

Not entirely sure where this one came from. I was driving to the grocery store this morning and some of the dialogue for this came into my head and here we are!

Hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 3.7k

Warnings: brief canon typical violence

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily had never been so happy. 

She sighs contentedly as she leans into her fiance’s side, smiling as he pulls her even closer, his thumb rubbing back and forth on her hip through the material of her dress. 

“Are you okay sweetheart?” Aaron asks, his smile soft as he looks at her. She’s almost eye level with him because of her heels and she takes advantage of it, nodding as she leans in to stamp her lips against his. 

She hums as she pulls back, “I’m more than okay,” she says, kissing him again, smiling as she hears Derek groan and she makes a point of leaning further into the kiss, her hand coming up to cup Aaron’s cheek as she holds him in place as she licks her tongue through his mouth.

“Oh god Princess, we get it,” Derek says, shaking his head as he takes a sip of his beer, “You two love each other.” 

“I think I preferred it when they used to pretend they weren’t in love with each other,” Dave grumbles jokingly, winking at Emily as she finally pulls back from Aaron, her hand dropping down to his chest, “They may have been annoying, but at least we didn’t have to watch them make out.” 

Emily rolls her eyes at him, “Well excuse me for kissing my fiance at my engagement party.”

Party was a strong word and she knew it. They were out for a few drinks on a Thursday evening to celebrate her and Aaron’s recent engagement. She knew her actual engagement party would be something her mother insisted on throwing for them, an event full of dignitaries and people her mother considered important. This was the celebration she’d actually enjoy and she was going to make the most of it. 

Aaron chuckles and runs his hand up and down her side, rubbing the soft green material of her dress between his fingers as he presses a kiss to her cheek, “Our engagement party, sweetheart.” 

She shrugs playfully and winks at him before she finishes her beer, “Yes, baby. Our engagement party,” she kisses him again, “I need another drink.” 

He smiles and kisses her cheek before he pulls away, “I’ll go get you one, I’ll be right back.” 

She watches him go, her eyes fixed on his ass as he walks towards the bar. She groans as he gets there and as she sees him standing next to Agent Clark and Agent Lewis, “What are those creeps doing here?” 

They were both idiots. She’d never particularly liked either of them, but made polite small talk with them in the kitchen or the elevator if she saw them. Clark would often flirt with her and had asked her out on a date more than once, although that had stopped at least since she came back from Paris. 

“Garcia invited everyone,” Spencer says, and Emily smiles as she looks at Penelope and she avoids eye contact, “The email went out to the entirety of Quantico.” 

“And those two have never turned down a free drink,” Dave says, seemingly regretting for the first time all evening putting his card behind the bar, “They are usually harmless enough,” he says, raising an eyebrow at Penelope. 

“You guys are getting married, that should be celebrated!” Penelope exclaims, her gaze shifting to Emily who chuckles.

“Trust me Pen, Aaron and I have done plenty of celebrating by ourselves,” she says, her chuckle turning into a full laugh at the looks of horror that sweep across Derek and Dave’s faces. 

JJ joins in and shakes her head, sympathetically patting Derek on the back, “You know if you stop reacting she’ll stop telling you about their sex life.” 

“I think it’s sweet,” Penelope says, taking a sip from her cocktail, “Especially because I’d like another BAU baby to spoil soon.” 

Emily chokes on a laugh and shakes her head at her friend as she purposely ignores the treacherous hope that rolls through her chest. She and Aaron had decided to start trying recently, just a few weeks before he proposed, and she’d thrown away her birth control. She didn’t want anyone else to know yet, wanted to keep it as something just between her and Aaron, but she was excited — the thought of adding to their family enough to make her giddy. 

Her response is cut off by someone shouting at the bar and she looks back over, her eyes going wide as she spots Aaron standing close to Agent Clark, his fist clenched by his side as Clark cupped his nose, blood dripping down through his clasped fingers. Her eyes drift down to Aaron’s knuckles as she steps closer, and she sees how red they are. His skin was sure to bruise over old scars she knew as well as her own. 

She scoffs as she steps closer, confusion driving her closer as he looks at her, his eyes wide as if he isn’t sure what he’s done himself. 

“Aaron, what the hell is going on?”

___

They don’t get a chance to talk about it.

At first, it’s because he won’t. Whatever had driven him to punching a fellow agent was something he was keeping to himself, a subtle shake of his head during all of the commotion in the bar all she needed to know he wasn’t ready to talk yet. It was an unspoken rule that they didn’t push each other until they were ready, so as much as she wanted to know what was wrong she takes a step back. 

The moment they get home, Jack is on them, asking lots of questions about their night and hugging them tightly as if it had been days since he’d last seen them, not hours. The little boy blatantly disregarding his bedtime just to see them, something Jessica apologises for as she leaves. He insists that Emily is the one to put him to bed, a distraction she’s grateful for as she reads him two stories before he falls asleep against her, his hand tangled in her hair.

Despite everything in her that was screaming to go check on Aaron, to go slide into his lap where he had hidden himself in the home office, she still gives him the space she knows he needs. She gets ready for bed and slips under the covers, eventually falling asleep with her hand pressed against his pillow. 

When she wakes up in the morning she’s alone. 

She knows he had joined her at some point, can feel the warmth that only came with him surrounding her and permeating into the sheets on his side of the bed. She frowns as she sits up and spots a folded piece of paper on his pillow and she picks it up, smiling sadly as she reads his familiar writing. 

Gone to work early, I’ve left you coffee in the pot and sorted breakfast for you and Jack. 

She sighs and gets out of bed, putting aside her concern for the man she loves as she steps out into the hallway and almost trips over Jack, the little boy already awake and excited about going to school. By the time she gets to the office she feels anxious, a deep pit in her stomach as she places her bag on her desk, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she looks up at her fiance’s office. 

“You ok there, Bella?”

She jumps and places her hand on her chest as she turns to look at Dave. She shakes her head at him and huffs out a breath, “Jesus Christ, Dave. We need to get you a bell or something.”

He smiles at her and holds his hand up in an apology, “Sorry, I didn’t think it was possible to sneak up on someone who used to be a spy.” 

She hums and looks back at Aaron’s office, “I guess I’m distracted,” she sighs and turns to look at her friend, “He punched someone, Dave. And not just anyone, another agent. He could get in serious trouble over that,” she says, twisting her engagement ring around her finger, a habit that had replaced her previous one of biting her cuticles, “It’s not like him.” 

Dave nods in agreement, “It’s not, but I’d say the guy deserved it, don’t you?” 

She frowns and tilts her head at him, “Wait, do you know what happened?” 

He hesitates for a moment, his eyes flicking up to Aaron’s office, “I may have spoken to Lewis last night, and got his side of what went down between Aaron and Clark.” 

She stares at him, expecting him to carry on, and when he doesn’t she asks, “What did he say?” 

Dave sighs and forces his hands into his pockets, “If he hasn’t told you I don’t know if I should-”

“Dave,” she says firmly, cutting him off, “Tell me what he said.” 

He maintains eye contact with her for a second before he nods, clearing his throat before he tells her what he knows. 

___

Aaron’s smile fades as he approaches the bar, internally groaning when he sees Agent Clark and Agent Lewis standing there. 

“Clark,” he says, nodding politely as he stands next to them, “Lewis.” 

Lewis nods in return, but Clark turns to look at him, the smell of whiskey flowing off of him like a cologne as he smiles widely as if they were old friends. 

“Congrats on the engagement, Hotchner,” Agent Clark says, his words slurring together slightly as he tips his beer towards Aaron. Clark was not a good man, and certainly not an agent Aaron would ever want on his team. He had applied to join the BAU more than once but had always been denied, his attitude and work ethic well known throughout the FBI. 

“Thanks, Clark,” Aaron says, smiling politely as he indicates to the bartender that he wants two more beers. He smiles as he hears Emily laugh from behind him, the irritation he’d felt building for the man standing next to him immediately fading. 

“Prentiss has always been a catch,” Clark says, shaking his head as he places his beer back down, “You’re a better man than I am though, I don’t think I could do it.” 

Aaron freezes, his body briefly tense as he turns ever so slightly to face the other man, already asking a question he isn’t sure he wants the answer to before he can stop himself. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Clark doesn’t pick up on his tone, nor does he pay any attention to Agent Lewis on his other side who was attempting to stop him from saying anything else. His hand on his friend’s shoulder as he tries to lead him away, Aaron’s well-known glare getting through to him. 

“Well,” Clark says, shrugging, his hand slipping off the bar as he steps closer, “You wouldn’t buy a car that already has damage to the bodywork would you?” He says, smirking as he chuckles at what he’s said. 

Aaron feels his blood boil, fury flooding his veins at the way the man in front of him dared to talk about the woman he loves. He clenches his fists at his sides, his short nails digging into his palm as he tries to distract himself, the dull pain in an attempt to pull himself back from the edge. Anger he’d inherited from his father bubbling in his belly, burning up his chest and turning bitter on his tongue. 

“What did you just say?” He asks, the words forced out through his teeth as he fixes his hard glare on him. 

“We should go-” Lewis starts, but Clark interrupts him, cutting him off as he pats Aaron on the shoulder as if they were old friends, as if they were exchanging shop talk rather than talking about his fiance. 

“Come on Hotchner,” he says, chuckling again, “We all know what Doyle did to her. She’s always had an incredible figure, but it must be a mess under that dress,” he says, nodding towards Emily, “Sometimes it’s best never to unwrap a gift if you know what I mean.” 

Aaron sees red, and anger he hasn’t felt in years, since he’d seen Foyet in the home he’d once shared with Haley, overtakes him. Any attempt to stop himself from reacting disappears. It happens in slow motion. He doesn’t feel like he’s in control of his body, as if he’s watching himself as he punches Clark, the feeling of his knuckles connecting with the other man's face spreading throughout his hand. 

Everything speeds back up again as he pulls his hand back, the quiet in the bar almost deafening as it feels like everyone turns to look at them. Clark’s cursing and the way he cries out in pain as he cups his bleeding nose barely registering as he turns to look at Emily, guilt and shame filling his lungs as she furrows her brows at him, any enjoyment she’d found in the evening long gone. 

“Aaron, what the hell is going on?” 

___

She closes her eyes as Dave finishes and she shakes her head, love and a flicker of irritation aimed at her finace blooming in her chest. 

“Lewis told you all of that?” She asks as she opens her eyes and looks at Dave, smiling sadly when she sees his anger at the way she’d been spoken about painted across his face as he nods, “Maybe he can be a witness if this goes to some kind of committee hearing.” 

“He did,” he replies, “I don’t think Clark will be taking this up with anyone.” 

She tilts her head and narrows her eyes at him, “What makes you say that?” 

He shrugs nonchalantly as he smirks, “Let’s just say, someone may have reminded him of his place here and about all the things he should have been reported on over the years.” 

She smiles at him and leans forward to kiss his cheek, squeezing his shoulder gratefully before she takes a step back, “Thanks Dave,” she says, blowing out a breath as she turns to look at Aaron’s office, “I’m going to go talk to him.” 

Dave nods, “I’ll distract the others when they come in, give you some time.”

She chuckles, “Someone is already taking their role as best man seriously.” 

He laughs and shakes his head at her, “For this, I expect godfather of your firstborn, Bella.” 

She turns and starts to walk towards the steps leading to Aaron’s office, “I’m not making any promises.” 

She takes a moment as she gets to his door and blows out a breath before she knocks and walks in, smiling softly at him as he looks up from his paperwork.

“Hi honey,” she says, closing the door behind her, “You left early this morning.” 

He clears his throat and nods, the same shame he’d felt ever since he’d hit Clark swelling in his chest the moment he sees her. 

“I had paperwork to do,” he says, folding his hands on his desk, “I didn’t want to wake you.” 

They fall into an awkward silence and she hates it, her eyes drifting to his knuckles that were bruised just like she knew they would be before she looks back at him, their eyes meeting as he covers the damaged skin with his other hand. She knows what he’s thinking, the comparisons he will have no doubt made to a man she’ll never get to meet, the man who he spent his whole life worrying he’d turn into. There were moments when she wished she could have a few moments alone with his father, when she wished she could give him a piece of her mind, when she wanted nothing more than to yell at the man who was supposed to protect his son, to hide him from the harshness of the world instead of exposing him to it. 

She knew they’d have to talk about it, that she’d have to tell him, again, that she didn’t need protecting, that she didn’t need him to fight her battles for her, but this wasn’t the time for that. Not yet anyway. 

“Lewis told Dave what happened,” she says, still standing by the door, her hands clasped together as she once again twists her engagement ring, around her finger, “And Dave told me.” 

Aaron sighs, and looks down at his desk, clasping his hands tighter around each other, pressing against his bruised flesh, as irritation at his friend flashes through him. He didn’t want her to know what Clark had said about her. It was one of the main reasons why he hadn’t told her last night, his desire to protect her, to stop her from being any more hurt than she already had been superseding everything else. 

“Sweetheart…” he starts, but he trails off, unsure what he wants to say. He looks up as he hears her walking towards him and he sits back in his chair, allowing her room to sit on the edge of his desk. 

“We’ll talk about how I don’t need you to protect me later,” she says, reaching for his hand and sandwiching it between both of hers, her touch careful as she runs her thumb back and forth over his damaged skin, “From both the people who say things about me and the things they say.” 

“You’re going to be my wife,” he says, anger flashing through him again, feeling wrong and biting in comparison to her gentle touch, “And even if you weren’t…no one should speak about you like that,” he says, shaking his head as he looks up at her, “You’re…you’re everything.” 

She presses her lips together and raises his hand to them, stamping a kiss against his damaged skin.

“You’re everything to me, honey,” she says, kissing his knuckles again, soft and diligent as if it would heal him instantly. On some level, he’s sure it does, “So I don’t want you to risk your job over the opinion of a guy like Clark.” 

He nods and avoids her eye contact, “I’m sorry.” 

She cups his cheek with her spare hand and makes him look at her, “You have nothing to be sorry for, baby,” she says, leaning forward and stamping her lips against his, “Only he does, and  I think the broken nose is enough of a punishment,” her smile fades slightly as she chews her lip, clearly lost in thought and he squeezes her hand. 

“What’s wrong, Em?” 

She shakes her head, “Nothing’s wrong,” she assures him, “It’s just…Clark used to ask me out all the time. And he stopped when I came back from Paris. I kind of assumed it was because we got together so quickly but…” she laughs humourlessly as the scar on her abdomen burns, the phantom stake driving through it as she thinks about it, “I guess not. Not that it really matters, I’d never go there in a million years even if we weren’t together but…it just makes me wonder how many people are thinking the same thing.” 

The anger he’d felt last night flashes through him again for a moment, hot and overwhelming as he feels it threaten to burst free, but it disappears as quickly as it came, his concern for her more important. They’d both been self-conscious of their respective scars their first night together, as if they didn’t already know the worst of what each other had been through. It had been a night of exploration, of soft touches and questions that they’d had for years answered. Ever since then, they’d barely acknowledged it, as comfortable with each other as someone could be with another person. 

“You’re beautiful,” he says, shifting back so she can slip into his lap, his arms tight around her as she settles against him, her side pressing into his chest, “And he’s an idiot if he thinks what happened to you doesn’t make you even more so.” 

She scoffs and smiles lovingly at him, pushing his hair from his forehead, “You’re my fiance, you have to say that.” 

“It’s true,” he says, moving his hand so it rests on her abdomen, gently tracing the edges of the scar that lay beneath her clothes. Scar tissue spread out like a constellation, the slope of it a pattern he could follow with his eyes closed, “It’s made of you, so how could it be anything other than beautiful.” 

She shakes her head and leans in to kiss him, her lips firm against his as she cups the back of his head, “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” he replies, kissing her once more before she rests her head against his shoulder, content to sink into his embrace before the day truly begins, “I wonder when Strauss will be in here yelling at me about last night.”

“I think Dave got you out of that one,” she says, reaching for his hand and linking their fingers together, “He had a conversation with Clark and with Lewis,” she tilts her head to look up at him, “He said something about reminding Clark of his place.” 

Aaron chuckles and kisses her forehead, “I’ll have to come up with a way to thank him.” 

She smiles, and is briefly distracted as she sees Dave walking up the stairs and stopping just outside of Aaron’s office, clearly trying to be sneaky but failing. She nods towards him and Aaron sees him too, so she winks at him, a silent request to go along with what she was going to say.

“He’s already claimed the role of godfather for our firstborn in return for it,” she says, her smile getting wider as his does, the mention of their potential future child enough to get rid of any lingering anxiety in the air around them, “Poor kid doesn’t exist and they already have Dave as their moral guidepost.” 

“I can hear you, you know.” 

They both laugh at Dave’s weary voice coming through the window and Emily leans into Aaron’s side again as she replies, happy and content in his arms.

“I know, that’s why I said it, old man.” 

-x-

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[writtenbymisunderstoodnerds]

Not my best idea (Sofia Huerta x Reader)

Based on this request

This isn't my best work and it's kinda short, but I have been trying to get this done for weeks now and wanted to get it finished. Hope it's okay and you enjoy it :)

Words: 1K

An elbow dug into my side, making my head snap to a laughing Emily. I scowled, turning back to the life guard that had captured my attention. She was beyond attractive. It didn't help that she was wearing a bikini top and board shorts, showing off more skin than I could handle. I'm pretty sure at this point it was incredibly obvious that I found her attractive. I couldn't stop myself from staring at her whenever she wasn't looking. She had already caught me a few times. It didn't help that I saw her almost every day since the girls were constantly wanting to go in our free time. No matter how many times the girls hyped me up or how many times I attempted to make my move, I always chickened out. I could barely talk to her, let alone ask her out.

"If you keep staring at her, you're going to creep her out. Quick be normal, she's coming over."

"Shush."

Y/n stopped in front of us, smile on her face and I could feel any composure I had disappear. "Hey ladies, how's everything going?"

"We can't complain."

"Good, do you think I could get a hand really quick? I need to move that table."

"Sure, Sof will help you, won't you?"

"Y-yeah." I glared at them as I followed behind her. There was an awkward silence as I walked behind her. Well maybe it only felt awkward because of how nervous I was feeling being this close to her alone. I wanted to say something, but I didn't know what. I never knew how to start a conversation with her or even keep a conversation going properly. 

"Thanks for the help. I'm sorry to drag you away from your relaxation time."

"A-anytime."

Y/n looked at me, looking like she was waiting for me to say something else while also looking like she was wanting to say something. Instead, we just looked at each other until I was called back over to the girls. I silently cursed them as I had just about worked up the courage to say something. Now that had just vanished, "I'll uh see you later."

Of course I was teased about my awkwardness before some of the team left back to their rooms. I decided to stay for a while, hoping maybe I would get the courage to talk to her. A girl could dream anyway. It didn't happen, I just lay in the chair, watching her while trying not to make it obvious I was watching her. I knew I was being ridiculous. Just talking to her would make my life easier, but I was scared. The last thing I wanted to do was make her uncomfortable. She seemed to be at least a little bit into me. There were the flirty smiles, subtle flirty comments and a few touches here and there. Though, for all I knew she was just being nice because it was her job. 

For some stupid reason I decided the only possible way to get her to kiss me without talking to her, was to fake drown. In hindsight, watching sandlot probably wasn't the best idea. It wasn't that I actually planned to do it, but after watching some other women flirt with Y/n, I decided to do it, admittedly out of jealously. So once everyone including most of the team had left, I slipped into the pool. Moving around for a few minutes before I started flailing around and dunking under the water. There was a splash and a few seconds later, strong arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me up and out of the pool. I held my breath, lips pressing against mine. Unfortunately, I couldn't stop the gasp that slipped out as my lips twitched with the desire to kiss her back. I could only hope she didn't notice.

Y/n POV

My lips pressed against hers, intending to start mouth to mouth however the twitch of her lips against mine and the almost silent gasp, gave away that she likely didn't need it. I had seen Sofia watching me quite a lot, a shy, but flirtatious smile sent my way every time our eyes met. I had also overheard conversations about how it would feel to kiss me. It was definitely a mutual feeling, I just enjoyed watching how flustered she got around me. It also seemed more professional to let her come to me first. I decided to throw professionalism out the window and connected our lips in a proper kiss. Her lips instantly moved against mine before I pulled away. It was short and sweet, leaving me wanting more. We were still at the pool though and even though it was only her and I, there was the potential for someone else to show up. 

I laughed, helping her sit up, "Did you really just try pull off that scene from sandlot?"

Sofia smiled sheepishly, "Maybe. Sorry I know it was really stupid and I'm sorry if I worried you. Apparently when you're around I lose all ability to speak to women and resort to fake drowning instead."

"If you wanted a kiss, all you had to do was ask."

"W-what?"

"You heard me, although you would have had to wait until after the first date. That would involve talking to me though and not just fake drowning."

Sofia looked down, redness covering her cheeks. It was adorable how shy and embarrassed she looked. I probably could have just asked her out and put her out of her misery, but I wanted a bit of payback for her scaring the shit out of me. It took a few seconds for her to look at me again, determination filled her beautiful eyes, "Will you go on a date with me Y/n?"

"Promise you won't fake drown again? You almost gave me a heart attack."

"Promise."

"Then I would love to go on a date with you." I pecked her lips, loving the way she tried to chase after me as I pulled away. "Na uh, you get more after the date. How's tonight?"

"Tonight is perfect, I'll pick you up at 6?"

Fingers laced with mine, squeezing gently when I kissed the back of her hand, "Look who finally gained the ability to speak. I can't wait."

[mrs-weasley-reid]

Savory Kiss

(Spencer Reid x fem!bau!reader)

A/N: I hope you enjoy... And should I keep doing this? I've been on tumblr but I never really post, mostly reblogging lol

Summary: A lot of things happened last night, but a shared drunken kiss between you and Spencer had your mind panicking.

WARNING: bit of an overdramatic reader (but tbh I think it's a normal reaction), cursing, just fluff x

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

"Shit."

You sat up on your bed, a hand smacking your forehead following suit. You could feel the heat that rushed to your cheeks, a shade of red tinting your skin. You woke up from a dream, a nightmare. Oh, who were you kidding? It wasn't any of those. It was an actual event that happened barely twelve hours ago.

"Oh my god," the hand on your forehead pushed the loose strands of hair up. "I kissed Spencer." You continued to whisper under your breath as your fingers softly grazed your lips.

It wasn't just a kiss. You made out with him. Hands in his soft, curly hair. Your body pressed against his. And your lungs were out of air.

You slammed your back on the mattress, wiggling around as if you were having a seizure. "This can't be happening!" You rolled over. Your blanket wrapping around your body. Your hands smacked your face in hopes that you were just dreaming.

How ever would you face Spencer? Face your co-worker? Your teammate? If you weren't such a liquor fanatic last night, you wouldn't be in this situation.

The sound of your alarm startled you, reading 7 in the morning. You dragged yourself out of bed, dreadfully preparing yourself for work.

Your travel to the Bureau office took ten minutes at the most, and you could walk it for thirty minutes, but today you wanted someone to do God's will and crash their car to yours on your way to work.

With a to-go cup of coffee in hand and a scowl in your throat, you pushed the glass door open when you reached the Behavioral Analysis Unit floor.

Emily was the first to greet you, "I drank more than you did. How are you looking like a storm just passed you?" She chuckled, sipping in her second dose of coffee.

Your eyes blew wide, and you dragged her to the side. "I'm going to kill myself." You started in a whisper.

"Jesus, Y/N. I know I did it once, but I don't go around giving advice on how to do it." Emily looked up and shrugged. "Okay, yeah. I do tell people how to fake their death, but it's too early."

You shook your head, "No! I did something stupid."

She grinned, "How stupid are we talking about?"

"Stupid, as in kissing Spencer!" You hissed, looking around to ensure he was nowhere near you two.

"Oh," Emily rolled her eyes. "Kiss? More like ate his face."

"Oh, my, god," you couldn't believe what you had just heard, making you ask the obvious. "You saw?"

Emily bobbed her head sheepishly, blowing on her coffee in a satisfying manner. "I didn't just see. I watched it."

"That doesn't make me feel any better, you psycho." You growled, pushing her shoulder lightly.

"Why are you even freaking out? You've been crushing on boy genius for months now. You finally got to taste his minty fresh breath you've been daydreaming about." She snorted.

You glared at her. How could she be entertained by your dilemma? And you sighed at the question. You'd be more surprised if she wasn't.

"I know I talk about jumping on Spencer and ravishing him like a wild animal all the time, but—" You ignored Emily's widened eyes and subtle cough to stop you from talking. "—I at least want to do that when I'm sober and not in a drunken fashion."

The sound of metal crashing on the sink made you shut your mouth. You wanted to further sew it shut when you heard a soft 'sorry' behind you, immediately recognizing the owner of the voice.

You closed your eyes agonizingly, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Please, kill me now." You begged Emily.

She raised her hand in defense, "I made an oath not to use my gun for leisure."

You took a deep breath and turned to face Spencer with a crooked smile, "Hey."

"Uh," Spencer's ears were red, holding the spoon that he dropped tightly. "Right, yeah. Hey!" His voice hitched, and Emily's snort didn't pass your ears.

"I'm gonna leave you two some privacy," Emily made eye contact with you. "Call me when you're about to make out again." She taunted and dashed away before you could even smack her shoulder.

You smiled and sighed. Nothing else could make things worst than this. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to hear that." You held your hands together, anxiety coursing through your veins.

Spencer looked away, feeling his face combust under your gaze.

Everybody knew how brave you were. Despite facing serial killers, you kept stable eye contact. Even Hotch sometimes felt nervous whenever you held his gaze as he lectured you.

For Spencer, it was your charm and also the death of him. You wanted to do what to him? His mind was spinning. He kept it to himself, maybe with Derek, who caught him staring at you once, but he tried his best to hide his attraction to you.

From the moment you made a joke of kissing Emily because shaking hands weren't a thing from where you came from to last night, where you stared at him straight in the eye and ordered him to kiss you, he was whipped, and he knew it.

He didn't know what to do, and frankly, he was more concerned about you hearing his heartbeat than your statement regarding him. "No, no. I should be the one apologizing. I should've not eavesdropped on your conversation."

A bright laugh escaped you, "Spence, we were talking in the break area. It's everyone's space. Besides, I wasn't being silent either." The nickname rolled out of your tongue beautifully, and you liked it. You loved how the elongated end gathered suspense, whether you would say his name entirely or leave it at that.

Spencer gripped his mug at the usage of his nickname, by you, of all people. "Right." He swallowed the air in his throat, forming a tight-lipped smile.

"Okay, then." You tapped your lap offbeat, clearing your throat. "I'll see you around." You bid farewell and marched to your desk.

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

Spencer hated elevators. It suffocated him, more so that you were with him, silently humming to yourself as you fought the anxiety boiling in your stomach.

You didn't avoid Spencer, at least not directly. A smile here and there when you bumped into each other and even managed to converse about one of your last cases without melting into a puddle on the linoleum floor.

But you did, however, would twist your ankles 180 degrees when you saw Spencer approaching, only when he hadn't noticed you yet. Just like earlier, after you returned from lunch with Penelope, Spencer was on his way out to take his break with Emily and Derek, scrambling to hook his messenger bag on his shoulder. You ran to catch up to Penelope, asking her if she could teach you some basic codes.

And the time arrived, when you turned around after getting in the elevator and Spencer slipped his scrawny body through the closing door. You couldn't turn anywhere, so you smiled and put on your brave face.

"Done for the day?" As if it wasn't evident by how you two clutched the straps of your bags.

"Yeah," he bit the bottom of his lip, glancing at you from his peripheral. Your words were clear to his head. They were loud and enunciated by the way you hissed every word to Emily.

Silence engulfed the two of you for the rest of the ride down to the parking garage. Spencer gestured for you to get out first, to which you replied with a small 'thanks' and a soft nod.

You turned in his direction. You found Spencer barely stepping off the elevator as if he had waited for you to take no less than twenty steps before he started to move. "Have a great evening, Spence." You couldn't let your own embarrassment affect your friendship with Spencer. Not when you were bound to see him the next day and the next, and until you were welcome to the bureau.

He halted, clutching his bag. "You too." He muttered, almost inaudible for you to hear if it wasn't for the acoustic of the parking lot.

His eyes were distant, and you knew that you may not have wholly ruined your friendship, but you most likely made a mess out of it. So you left him with a nod and continued to walk to your car.

You hadn't moved more than two steps when Spencer spoke, "Do you regret it?"

You paused, your brows furrowing. Your body swirled at the weight of his vague question. "What?"

"Do you regret kissing me?" He asked, taking a massive gulp of nothing.

"No!" You shouted an exaggerated reaction to a simple question, inviting blood to travel to your face. "No, I don't." You reiterated, a lot calmer this time.

"Are you sure? You don't have to lie. I get it. I'm not really the best kisser—"

"No! No! Spence, no!" You didn't even realize that you were walking towards him until you stood half foot away.

Guilt spread throughout your veins for making him think for a second or more that you regretted kissing him. Sure your mind was hazy at the memory of his lips on yours, but it didn't mean you didn't like it.

"No, really, Y/N. It's okay." He reassured you, a longing stare glossing over his hazel eyes.

"The only thing I regret about our kiss was the fact that I wasn't sober." You admitted, willing yourself not to run and dip as you held his gaze.

There you go again. Keeping him a prisoner of your gaze even if it was clear to both of you that you were on the verge of wanting to jump off a bridge.

A subtle smile was slowly forming on his lips. Still, because of your panic and eyes glued to his, you didn't notice it, rambling to explain how bad you felt for making him feel insecure about the way he kissed.

"I just," you sighed. "I just hoped I could remember how good it felt to make out with you, but because I was drunk, I only remember what happened but not how it felt. And it sucks. It sucks—"

He grabbed your face, and your breathing stopped. Spencer kissed you with eagerness and passion. He has been holding himself back the whole day. You had no idea how much he wanted to greet you with a soft kiss when he had the chance to steal you away from Emily this morning. Still, your slight panic got to his head, making him wonder if it was alcohol that made you want to kiss him.

You didn't know when it happened, but your arms were now snaked around his neck, fingers tangled with his curly hair. You were hooked. And finally, it reminded you how amazing it felt to kiss Dr. Spencer Reid.

You both pulled away, gasping for air, grinning from ear to ear. Your chest rose and down, your fingers feeling numb and tingly from the euphoric kiss he left lingering on your lips.

"You remember now?" Spencer asked with a shit-eating grin that he couldn't seem to wipe off his face.

You crossed your arms, index finger tapping your chin as you hummed. "I don't know... You see, I don't have a great memory like yours." You kidded, mirroring his expression.

Spencer rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to speak, but you pulled his tie towards you to get your lips locked once again. You felt how he had difficulty placing his hands on your body, settling to hug you close to him.

The two of you giggled like teenagers, pecking each other's lips for more but too breathless to continue.

"See? Y/N doesn't just kiss. She eats your whole face."

The two of you looked toward the elevator, finding Emily, Derek, and JJ.

Derek and JJ tittered at the joke, but most of their smiles were a form of congratulations for the both of you.

You rolled your eyes at Emily, "When I like something, I savor it." You threw a suggestive wink at Spencer, earning a bright red glow from his face.

[scoonsalicious]

Since I'm on a posting break until the 23rd so I can write, I thought I'd entertain you with some Unwanted: Unusables, or, early drafts from the fic that didn't make it into the final cut.

This first one is from an early draft of Chapter 5: Unprofessional. A little bit about the draft: In the beginning, Pocket and Bucky were never meant to actually get into a relationship. They were just FWB until Jade came along (who had many in between names, like Emily, Jewel, Sage, etc., and was NOT supposed to be crazy evil, just... kind of a bitch), and the plan was for only Pocket to catch feelings at first, and for Bucky to sleep with Jade in Russia because he actually liked her and wanted to, and to come back to the Tower with her as his girlfriend and kind of leaving Pocket in the dust.

Obviously, this isn't what ended up happening. I couldn't help myself. I needed these two idiots in love. With that in mind, please enjoy these next few days of "Unusables." This particular one starts off with Pocket going back to her room after giving Jade her Tower tour.

I'm actually scheduling all of these before I start my break, lol, so don't worry-- by the time you read this, I'll be writing more WFLT...

You made it back down to your suite in record time and were delighted to find Bucky sitting in one of your arm chairs, an open copy The Times in his hands.

"Hey there, soldier," you said as you kicked off your heels. You raised your skirt as you approached him, giving your legs the freedom they needed to straddle his lap as you sat down in front of him.

He didn't look up from his paper, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Well, hello there, Pocket." His metal hand came up to rest on your knee, fingers tracing circles on your skin. The touch sending shivers down your spine.

"Is that a pistol in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?" you asked with a smirk.

Bucky snorted, finally looking up from his paper, one eyebrow raised. "Mouth like that, did they let you into this fancy building, or did you just sneak in through the vents?"

You smiled, tracing the lines of his face with your fingers. "Maybe I just I crawled up through the sewer line," you teased, putting a kiss to his jawline.

"That's my dirty girl," he grinned. You looked at him. You knew he was only teasing you, but he'd called you his girl.

And damn if that wasn't doing something to your insides.

"You okay, Doll?" he asked, looking at you with concern.

You nodded, trying to push away the seemingly overwhelming emotions that were stirring within you. "Um, yeah, I'm fine. Just got lost in thought for a minute; Jewel Carthage is upstairs meeting with Steve and Tony right now. They'll be

coming down to the common room to introduce her to everyone once they're finished."

"Oh yeah, that's right. Jewel's interview was today." Bucky's tone was completely unconvincing. "It completely slipped my mind."

"Oh, we lying to each other now?" you asked, trying to keep your voice light and your insecurity at bay. It was totally fine for him to express interest in getting to know a potential new member of the team, you reminded yourself. Totally fine and not a complete rejection of you at all. Okay, who was the liar now?

"Absolutely not," his voice was now deep with sincerity. "Never." You smiled and leaned in to kiss him, but he leaned back and asked:

"So, how did the tour go? What was she like?" You debated whether or not to tell him about what she'd said about him, but decided against it. You found you didn't want him feeling flattered by her disgusting line of questioning, and the fact that you were censoring what you said to him made you feel gross.

"Can't say I was a fan," you told him. At least that was the truth. Just not all of it. "I found her to be incredibly unprofessional and, honestly? Kind of a bitch."

"Hey," Bucky gently chastised, "give the kid a break. She was probably freaking out. It's hard being the new kid in the Tower, you know?" You shrugged; you didn't know, really. You'd been with Tony from the beginning. Bucky went on: "Remember how much of an ass I was when I first met you?" he asked, then impersonating himself, said: "'What the hell kind of name is Pocket?'" You nodded, giggling as you remembered. "But you looked past my obnoxious nerves and I wormed my way into your heart and now you're my best friend and you're stuck with me forever." You nodded, laughing at the memory.

"Well, you're lucky I wanna be stuck with you forever," you told him without thinking.

"Is that so?" he asked, voice growing thick.

"Ugh, don't let it go to your head, Barnes." You buried your head into his shoulder to cover your embarrassment, only for him to put his hands on your hips and roll your core across his clothed erection.

"Oh, it definitely went to my head, Doll," he said as he drew your hips together again, eliciting a moan from deep within you. "I just can't confirm which one." The friction was delicious, and you put your hands on his shoulders to find purchase as you began grinding against him in an increasing rhythm.

"Fuck, Pocket," Buck grunted as he thrust his pelvis up into yours, "how can you feel this fucking good before I can even get inside you?"

"Jesus, Buck," you gasped as you felt the length of him drag along your covered slit, the tip of his cock rubbing against your clit every time he pulled you forward, "just like that... Harder, please, God, please.' You were panting, desperate for the release that you were chasing. "You feel so good. God, so fucking good."

Bucky took his metal hand off of your hip and gripped your chin. "Come here," he growled, pulling your lips to his in a desperate kiss as he continued grinding you against him.

"Gonna make me cum in my pants like a fucking teenager," he moaned. His hand gripped the back of your head, pulling your forehead against his. "You're so fucking sweet, Pocket." You loved the words that came out of his mouth the more he came undone beneath you, and the fact that you were the one doing it to him made you feel incredibly powerful.

"Ms. (Y/L/N)," FRIDAY's voice filled your room, causing Bucky to halt his movements, "Mr. Stark is requesting you and Mr. Barnes in the common room for Ms. Carthage's team meet and greet in fifteen minutes."

You groaned, trying to pull Bucky closer so you could chase his lips in spite of the interruption, but he moved his head away.

"We should head up, then, huh?" Bucky gently moved to tug you off of his lap.

"We could be a little late," you said, reluctantly standing up and straightening your skirt. "There's no rule that says we have to be perfectly punctual. Let me at least get you off before we go up." You started to kneel in front of him, reaching for his belt, but Bucky stood up, stopping you.

"I don't want to be rude," he said, reaching up and freeing your hair from its bun, running his fingers across your scalp.

"Oh, God," you murmured as you leaned into his touch, "that feels fucking amazing." He brought his other hand up and began massaging your scalp with both hands, gently tugging at the roots of your hair. The sensation immediately relaxed you.

After a few moments, you felt his hands pull away. Cupping your face, he smiled at you. "Why don't I head up now, and you can get changed and meet me?"

You checked your watch; he really hadn't given you much of a choice at this point.

But then, he abruptly stopped and stepped back, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "As much as I would love to take you up on that offer, doll, we should probably behave ourselves for now." He pulled away and returned to his discarded copy of The Times. You tried to hide your disappointment. He hadn't initiated any intimate contact with you since the day he had seen Jewel's file almost two weeks ago. You were started to take it a little personally.

You had never really thought of him as anything more than your best friend (and someone you had mind-blowing sex with), but lately, there had been moments where you couldn't stop thinking about him. Moments where his touch felt electric, or his voice made you feel something deep in your core.

It was confusing, and part of you was terrified at the idea of giving in to those feelings. But another part of you wondered if maybe there was something worth exploring there. If maybe you were ready for something real.

But his recent distance had given you pause. Had you done something off putting? He had seemed to really enjoy the blow job you'd given him that night, which was the last time the two of you had done anything that could be remotely described as sexual. You made a promise to yourself to broach the topic with him when you both got ready for bed later in the evening, after the meet and greet with Jade was over and you could put her out of both of your minds, for good.

[allbark-no-bite]

Silver Fox || Elvis Presley x reader

summary: in which Elvis decides not to dye his hair for once and it makes him that much more irresistible

warnings: mentions of smut, foul language

word count: 2.2k

author’s note: i’m in love with this one. y’all know i can’t resist some good domestic Elvis

I did not come from a kind home. I came from a home with slamming doors and shaking walls and air that was always thick with tension. My parents were turbulent, constantly tipping the scale with weeks of silence and then explosive nuclear rage. So I had always promised myself that I would find a partner who was kind. So that even on the days that love was not enough, there would still be kindness.

I'll always say my life began when I met Elvis. I fell in love with him first for his personality. He was so delicately mild mannered, and yet bursting with life. Even before we had children, he showed me what a real family was, and what ours could be like. 

His parents welcomed me with open arms. It had been the three of them against the world until all the fame, so although their family wasn't large, their bond was strong. I think Gladys was thrilled to have a daughter to dote on as well.

And as they say, a home with kindness breeds quickly. His parents, his cousins, the Memphis Mafia, their children, we all became a family. Our home at Graceland was soon filled with love, large meals, and laughter.

Years passed, and we had kids of our own. It became a problem really, the rate at which we produced children. We had our first baby a few weeks after he was discharged from the army (a last minute visit home had occurred eight months prior).

Eugene had barely begun walking before I was swollen again, six months pregnant with our second boy. Elvis was only twenty, and his career was skyrocketing. Truthfully, I liked to believe it was a blessing that we had started having kids so young. With Elvis' life that involved traveling constantly, and a career that asked for his home life and job to coexist as one, his youth enabled him to have the energy to go from touring one day to wrangling toddlers down for a nap the next. And he did it all with a smile.

We had agreed that after our third child, we were going to put a halt to the baby making—at least temporarily. Three young boys were a lot to handle, even with the help of his family. When it came down to it, our lives were already so busy as it was. We lasted a good eight years before Emily Joe came alone. And then once you have four, you might as well have five.

—

Elvis is lounging with his back against the railing of the porch, white sock clad feet crossed in front of him as he chats with Sonny and Joe. There's a coffee mug in his hand containing tea, an attempt to soothe his throat after a few strenuous weeks of performing. As usual, his casual attire consists of a silky black button up and dark jeans.

The sight makes me smile to myself from the doorway. The colors perfectly compliment his salt and pepper flecked hair, something he had only recently been allowing to show through. At thirty-five, Elvis had started greying much quicker than most, it just didn't show due to him dying it constantly. But with his schedule finally clear of any performances for the next week or so, he'd tossed the boxed dye aside in favor of letting it grow out. Flashes of silver and white lick through his otherwise stark black hair. While the change made him slightly uneasy, I thought it was the most attractive thing in the entire world.

Eventually he looks away from his conversation with Joe and catches me staring. With a bemused smile and a twinkle in his blue eyes, he uncrosses his feet and spreads his thighs, holding out an arm to pull me between his legs.

"What sonofabitch let you outta the house lookin' that pretty?" he teases, his voice low and throaty as he squeezes my shoulder and kisses affectionately into my hair.

I slap his firm chest and am met with solid resistance. "I know you don't kiss your mama with that mouth, Elvis Presley."

We'd been married for over ten years, and he still flirted with me just as much now as he did when we were dating. I'd been smart enough to marry the man for his character and lucky enough to love him for his looks. Elvis was just as good looking as he was in his teenage years, if not even more so. He had aged like fine French wine.

"C'mon, mama. Sweet thing like you carryin' my baby, I'm a lucky man," he purrs.

If I thought Elvis was handsy before, he was ten times worse when I was pregnant. Where ever I went, he always followed close behind, grasping my elbow to steady me or hovering nearby, at the ready for whatever I needed.

I laugh at him, only able to shake my head in response. "You're insatiable."

He had been between my thighs this morning, licking and sucking and nipping until my knees were quivering beside his face. I had to weakly push his head away after I'd come a second time on his tongue. Even afterwards, he had sat me on the bathroom counter top and made me taste myself on his lips.

He passes a hand under the swell of my stomach while leaning down to capture my lips in a gentle but savory kiss. "No, just horny," he whispers, as he pulls away just slightly, blue eyes mischievous, intending his last sentence purely for my own ears.

"Could the two of you at least wait until this one's born before you start makin' the next one," Sonny groans from the other side of the porch. "I've got enough godchildren for the time being."

Cheeks burning, I pull away from our extremely close proximity, but Elvis keeps me trapped between his legs. Joe is chuckling beside Sonny, the rest of the Mafia snickering from their various states of inhabitation on the porch.

Elvis lets out a short huff of a laugh, kicking back again against the railing. "Baby factory is closed," he informs them, running a hand through his silver flecked hair. "Damn kids are turnin' me grey."

I raise an eyebrow at him. "You said that after Ernest." As if to prove my point, a scream echos from the yard behind us.

"Daddy!!"

A tiny four year old comes running up the porch steps, her arms held up in the air as she grabs for Elvis. Chestnut colored bangs fall into her round, doll shaped face, which is visibly upset. I was immensely surprised, when after having three children who looked like mirror images of Elvis, Emily took after me.

Before Elvis can even reach out to her, his hands preoccupied with my hips, Red swoops her off of her feet and into his arms.

There came a point after raising all of our kids together for so many years, that we often didn't think twice about who's kid was who's. They all probably thought they were siblings anyhow.

Just satisfied that she's gotten someone's attention, the toddler hiccups while trying to catch her breath. "U-Uncle Red, Eugene is— is bein' mean to Michael."

Back in the yard, the rest of the kids are running rampant in the yard, our dog darting around them as they toss a football. What had started as an organized football game looks to have turned into a squabble between the older boys. They tug on each other's clothes and shove their supposed teammates into the dirt. At the heart of the chaos are the eldest of the Presley children, Eugene and Micheal. The blonde seventeen year old has his feet planted to the ground, the latter's head locked between his elbow with no intention of letting go anytime soon. Michael's hands grab desperately at his brother, his feet scrambling wildly as he tries to escape. Eugene only grips him tighter.

With the pair so close in age, it seemed as though fights were becoming more and more inevitable. The teenagers quarreled like two cats forced to share a box, and fur was sure to fly. They tumbled down stairs and broke glasses and even noses from time to time (Micheal's once perfect button nose was still slightly askew). Elvis had told me a thousand times that it was all in good fun, but it still made me nervous.

One of Joe' boys tumbles into the pair, followed by Ernest, causing Eugene to stagger sideways. The blonde refusing to let go of his brother, Michael is forced along with him. Despite whatever minor argument had likely initiated the petty dispute, neither was giving in.

Back on the porch, Red just chuckles, tutting in pretend disapproval. "Awh, they're just pretendin', Em. You ain't gotta worry about them."

Still slightly distraught, Emily sniffs and wipes her eyes. While the Red and the rest of the mafia just laugh, finding the situation amusing, Emily and I do not.

Hands on my hips, I move to the edge of the porch. "Eugene Presley! Let go of your brother before you hurt him."

At the sound of my voice, the boys' wild flailing comes to a halt; however, Eugene doesn't release Michael just yet. The older boy's blue eyes shift from me to his father standing beside me, as if to gauge how serious I'm being.

Elvis, who had been only mildly concerned before my intervention, chuckles while placing a steadying hand at the small of my back. If it had been up to him, he likely would have allowed them to continue, but he would do anything to dim my worries. "Alright, that's enough. Let 'im go."

The moment Eugene loosens his hold, Micheal is shoving his brother away from him, a disgruntled look on his face. They start for the porch, taking our intervention as their queue to wrap up their game. Both of them look as though they've been drug through the dirt. Micheal's stock of blonde hair is rumpled throughly, and Eugene has a red welp on his cheek.

"Ma, Micheal started it," the boy defends as he reaches a closer earshot, sounding ten years younger than he is.

"DID NOT—," Micheal interjects, his body swiveling back in the other boy's direction,  but Elvis is quick to grab Micheal by the collar of his shirt before another fight breaks out.

He pulls the teenager towards him and wraps a heavy arm around his shoulders. Eugene raises an unamused eyebrow at his brother. "Give it a rest you two," Elvis says, laughing. There was a reason he was the fun parent.

Noticing that one of her brothers now has Elvis' attention, Emily slips out of Red's hold and scampers over to him, holding up her arms once again. "Me too, Daddy," she pleads, her tiny fingers grasping at the air.

Humming in amusement at his little girl, Elvis leans down and scoops her into his arms, emitting an exaggerated grunt as he does so. "I'm gettin' too old for this, little miss."

I rub a hand over my stomach thoughtfully, gazing at my husband fondly. No matter what he thought of himself, grey haired or not, thirty-four or seventy-four, he was still the wide-eyed boy I had married.

With the hand not on my stomach, I ruffle Ernest's hair, who had joined us with the rest of the kids on the porch. At twelve, he was four years younger than Micheal and hadn't become too cool for me just yet. He leans into me, his eyes drooping tiredly. Emily is already asleep in Elvis' arms.

"Alright, everyone," I announce, looking to my two younger kids but addressing everyone. "Time for bed."

Sonny, Joe, and Red, as well as the rest of the Mafia members are long gone, headed off for their respective homes by the time I come down the stairs from putting Emily to bed. She had begged for Elvis to sing to her, but with his voice still strained, I thought it best that he rested.

I find him still on the porch, soaking in the last of the cool evening. Elvis turns when he hears the door close behind me, and a smile overtakes his face. He opens his arms to me, pulling me into his chest once I'm close enough. At least, as close as he can with my growing stomach.

“How’re ya doin’, mama?”

I cup his jaw, my thumb stroking his cheek. His hooded doe eyes gaze at me warmly. "I’m doin’ just fine. How are you?”

Elvis rubs soothing circles into my sides. “Couldn’t be better. I’ve got my family, my beautiful, wonderful, amazing’ wife right here with me—”

I stop him, my thumb brushing over his lips. “That’s not really what I meant. You made a comment earlier... 'bout gettin' old... you know there is not a world in which I do not adore you."

He smiles against my thumb. “The grey really gets you goin’ huh? I meant it when I said the baby factory was closed.”

I laugh, kissing the corner of his mouth. “That doesn’t mean we can’t practice.”

[ffauthor]

William afton x reader x Henry Emily

Well, trying something new! 

CW: Car crash, Cursing, Mention of blood, Bad thoughts, Polymarous. (In which a woman has a relationship with two males)

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

You were sitting in the back seat, your knees pressed against your chest and the seatbelt threatening against your dress, listening to the music blasting through the radio and the small talk between the two males in front of you.

Henry was wearing a dark green colored suit with a black tie and brown shoes. William, on the other hand, wasn’t having a color theme, of course, he went with the color purple, the only color he could resist looking at. 

You were just in a plain black dress. You had a purple flower in your hair and green socks underneath your white sneakers. You couldn’t wear heels, they hurt like hell and were uncomfortable as fuck. 

Still, you wanted to match both of them, not wanting to disappoint one another. 

It was only once, you told yourself. It was a special day, after all, you had to help William and Henry open up the pizzeria with the brand-new animatronics. 

Well, that was ending about 15 minutes ago, and you guys were already back inside the car, wandering off to your house. You remember the looks of all the jealous girls as Henry placed a hand on your lower back or when William planted a kiss on your cheek. Normally, you weren’t bothered by them, or really by anyone but today.. that felt different. 

Their opinions mattered.

They were giving you death stares, like beyond murderous glares. You swear that if one of the girls managed to get through the security you would be buried six feet underneath the bare ground. And that thought somehow made you... feel weird, deceitful things.

You wanted nothing but to get home, hide and cry in the beloved arms of your two males. Right, they were yours. Not theirs. Then why didn’t it feel like that? Why did it feel like you had to apologize for something that isn’t even your fault?

‘‘Darling!’‘ William’s British accent slips out, his head tilted back through the front seats to look at you. You snap your head up to meet his softened gaze and wipe the tears threatening to spill away, hoping neither of them caught a glance of it. 

‘‘There you are.’‘ he smiled softly, his tone worried and lowered, making henry look up inside the front mirror, meeting your gaze as well. ‘‘You okay, m’love?’‘ he asked so so sweetly like if he were to speak louder you’d break down immediately. Truth is, you might. 

You felt their eyes burn into your bare skin as you tried so hard to shake it away. But you couldn’t, you never could when you were about to cry. and you weren’t one to cry often, at least not in front of them. 

You nod your head, scared that if you’d say anything you would start to bail your eyes out, and you weren’t.gonna.let.that.happen. Their eyes still focused on you, unfazed.

The lantern lights were brightening up the dark night, glittering through the thin windows. It lights up your features, your beautiful thighs covered by the half-length dress, and your eyes puffy and covered in mascara. 

There was no denying your red eyes now. Maybe when- 

a loud thud caused you to look up towards the light coming closer and closer to the car, a curse leaving Henry’s mouth, and a grip from William tightening.

You were on the ground. surrounded with glass, a pile of your own blood, someone else blood, and gas all over the floor. You couldn’t feel anything, well anything except the blood coming from your nose and running down your head and the hair grooving against your skin. 

your hearing went up in beeps, hearing nothing but a loud irritating buzz inside your ears, glass still falling around you. 

Something heavy was on you, covering you from seeing the sky, the lanterns, or any type of movement. and then you heard it, two loud British voices, hearable through the buzzers. worried voices, panicked voices. 

‘‘Goddamnit Y/n.’‘ - ‘‘Y/n!?’‘ you felt someone’s soft fingers graze around yours, trying to tell you they were here, that they were going to rescue you.

You looked up to see William and henry, knelt down in front of you with nothing but a bruise and a small bit of blood on their body, their clothes ripped. 

It wasn’t fair.. how could they get away with only a small bruise? And here you are, stuck underneath a heavy ass car door, trying to control your breathing and not fall unconsious. You were trying to stay strong, for them.. and maybe for yourself, But  it was alright.. all that mattered was that they were safe, they were alright.

[leahblackk]

The irony of life

summary: Spencer has to go undercover in a women’s prison after he came out of jail.

warnings: violence, mentions of blood, dead bodies, prisons, knives. typical criminal minds violence.

couple: post!prison reid x fem!reader

taglist: @ssavanessa22, @all-tings-gubler, @cance1medaddy, @doctorspenceryeet, @matthew-gray-gubler-lover, @nomajdetective, @reidselle, @louderfortheback, @hey-dw (if you wanna be add or removed let me know)

Prison had been a hard thing for Spencer Reid, not only because he was away from his friends, his family and his lover, but because of the things he had to face whilst being there.

Spencer Reid hasn't had an easy life, neither it was easy when he was a child, it was hurtful. How could a child suffer so much?

One of the things he remembers clearly was when he was bullied, when he was watched by all those people while he was naked, tied, and scared.

“How can children be so mean?” Spencer recalls his wife telling him, with tears running down her eyes. It hurt her to see how hard life has been for the poor doctor Reid,- and life hasn't gotten any easier-,

He could run statistics about it. Maybe the lack of attention and love the children faced, and they had to feel powerful in some way. But it wasn't fair, he was just a child as well. He had to face things, too. But he was never out there bullying other people.

Prison was something that had a big impact on him, mostly because while he was held back and beaten, he remembered that little Reid, being beaten by his bullies too. Scared, and hoping his mom would go and save him, to take care of him. But at the end of the day, he had to take care of her instead. It wasn't fair, for neither of them,

People sometimes compare high school with prison, when the kids were being dramatic, but it wasn't far away from the truth. At least not for him.

In the end, in prison ,-and life-, anyone could hold you back and beat you. Spencer knew that. They could say things about you. Sometimes high school bullies never grow out of it, they never change.

“Spencer?” He heard a voice, and he snapped out of his thoughts. He looked around, everyone was looking at him concerned.

“I'm sorry, uh what were you saying?”

Emily sighed deeply, she didn't want to do this, but she had to, “As i was saying. There is a potential lead,” she explained, trying to read Spencer's body language. Her eyes scan the doctor's hands, arms, the way he was breathing trying to see any sign. But they never noticed the most obvious one. Of course he needed help, he was begging for it, but they never noticed, way too busy trying to see his microexpressions. Ironic, “W-We know this might not be easy, and of course you can say no, but youre the most experienced in this.”

He needed to go undercover to a women's prison. One of their latest cases is based on a killer murdering the inmates. He needed to go undercover as a guard. How ironic. There was a time where he was on the other side of that cell.

He didn't want to go there, of course he didn't. He didn't want to step in a prison another time in his life, but of course, the team depended on him. He knew how prisons work, not only because he was in one once, but because they could use his brain. He didn't want to do it, but he sighed deeply and nodded gently, “I'll do it.”

…

“You have to do what now?” his wife said, “How can they do this to you-”

He grabbed her waist pulling her closer, in between his legs while he sat at the edge of their bed. He felt the soft material of the lavender purple cardigan she was wearing, his favorite and of course, was stolen from his side of the closet, but he couldn't care less when she looked that pretty. He kissed her belly, feeling the fabric itching against his mouth and he pressed the side of his face on her stomach, hearing the sounds this one made that always made him smile.

She sighed, defeated, and decided to play with his curly hair which made him sigh in satisfaction, “They didn't make me do anything, angel, I was the one who offered,” he lied.

“Then you shouldn't offer!” she complained with a high pitched voice. He smiled, lifting his head to look at her beautiful eyes. She looked down at his own hazel ones, her eyes soft, but sad, she was sad.

“It's gonna be okay, I promise. I get to save lives,” he spoke, making her sit on his knee while he kissed her temple, one, two, three times.

“It's not fair, Spence,” she cried softly, her voice almost breaking. Spencer frowned at that. Little tears threatened to spill out of her eyes, glistening slowly. Spencer knew prison was hard for him, but it was also for her. He knew she suffered while he was locked away, knowing he didn't have the comfort of their home, of her arms.

“Hey,” he cooed, “I promise I'm gonna be okay. It's only gonna be for a couple of days, bunny,” he spoke gently, cupping the side of her face turning it so he could see her better.

She bit her lip, trying not to cry. He knew she felt guilty for being the one crying and not him, but right there he couldn't love her more, “I just don't want you to go back there,” she confessed.

To be honest, neither did he, “I know, baby, but I promise it'll be okay mmh?”

She nodded, “I'm sorry I know that–”

“Shh, dont apologize. Hug me, yes? That's all I ask.”

She nodded, without complaints. He put his legs together, helping her accommodate in his lap with his hand on her waist, and when she was ready, she threw her arms around his neck, placing her chin on his shoulder. He smelt deliciously, so she sighed trying to take it all in, and he smiled knowing what she was doing.

He wrapped his arms around her, hiding his face in her shoulder. He didn't know if he was comforting her, or he was the one being comforted, but it felt amazing.

Having her that close to him, smelling her hair, the shampoo she always used lingering on her, -and he secretly stealing some from her, wanting to smell like her-, lingering in his curly hair as well. He was enamored, to say the least, and he was proud of it. No shame in telling it to the world, so he whispered, “I love you,” in her ear.

…

The day had finally come. He was about to enter, once more, those four walls that haunted his dream. It wasn't the same prison, of course not. This was a women only prison, but flashbacks couldn't hold themselves in.

His wife noticed, squeezing his hand, “It's okay love-” she encouraged, but Spencer cut her.

“The ninety-three point one percent of the inmates are male, and only the six point nine are women,” he stated. She frowned, “A-And the a majority of women are in prison due drug or property offense meanwhile men are the ones who commit mostly the hard crimes such as convicted sex offenders-”

She lifted her hand that was intertwined with his, pressing her lips softly in his cold skin. He looked at her, and smiled softly, “Sorry-”

She shocked her head, and pulled him close, wrapping her arms around his neck. He felt a whimper trying to escape from his lips, but he held it in, hugging her back. They were not too fond of PDA, knowing the team was probably watching them from afar as they waited for Spencer to go in, but she didn't care, and at that moment neither did he. She rubbed his back, “You're gonna do great. I believe in you,” he nodded. He believed her, but he couldn't help but chuckle.

“Says the woman who told me not to yesterday,” she rolled her eyes playfully.

“We're different from yesterday,” she smiled, pulling away and cupping his cheeks.

They stared at each other's eyes, they didn't need to speak. They knew what the other had to say.

Penelope squeaked from afar, “They're so cute!”

Luke chuckled, rolling his eyes to see the couple . But he agreed, they looked cute indeed.

Spencer smiled, knowing he had to go in. He pecked her lips quickly, and this time, Penelope's squeaked louder made them chuckle, “You're gonna do great,” she said. And he nodded, kissing her hand and walking towards the entrance where some other FBI guys were waiting to sneak him in, he didn't let go of her hand until he couldn't keep holding it. He sighed, deeply.

“Ready, doctor?” They asked.

No, of course not. But he couldn’t do any more than nod.

…

A week has passed, and Spencer had some suspects, informing the team about everything. There were yet another two bodies after he went undercover. All the same, blonde girls with blue eyes. The killer's signature; Leaving them without clothes in a pool of blood. He informed the team while they spoke about what it could mean, but he wasn’t paying too much attention.

He was overwhelmed while being there, to be honest. Spencer knew women's prison was more disciplined and less violent than men, there weren't as many fights as there were when he was in there, the inmates were not as violent, but it reminded him of the times he was there. Some of the girls were nice, spoke to him about why they were there, he created bonds, which helped create the profile of the person they were looking for.

He met a woman about five-six years older than him that was incarcerated unfairly, or so she said. He quickly and unconsciously created a bond with her, trying to see if he could help her. And he heard rumors about her lying and actually committing crimes. She never said why she was unfairly placed there, always changing the conversation. The inmates and guards talked about it, but Spencer decided not to believe them, because no one believed in him.

When he made his way to Joseline’s cell, to go and pay her their weekly visit, Spencer couldn't believe what his eyes saw. He gasped, quietly and drew his gun, carefully.

There it was, laying on the floor with a pool of water surrounding her body while Joseline sat on top of her, knife in hand, watching her slowly die. One of the girls he spoke with last week, one of the ones he created a bond with.

“Joseline?” He spoke quietly.

The woman looked at Spencer quickly, and he saw the shift in her eyes. She was scared, “I found her here, Spencer. I promise it didn't do anything,” she cried out loud, “You don't believe I did it, do you Spencer?”

Spencer shook his head slowly, “Of course not, Joseline. I know you're not like this…”

The black haired woman stood up from the body, and grabbed the knife with force, pointing it to Spencer, “Then why are you holding your gun like that?”

“Because the killer is on the loose, Joseline. And we have to make sure they don’t hurt you,” he said, trying to step forward to her, “Come on, give me the knife and we'll solve this.”

She shook her head, “No, you know why?” Spencer shook his head, “I know you know I did it. I can see it in your eyes,” she chuckled, “And, I have my reasons. I am here unfairly. I shouldn't be here! So I decided to give them a reason to put me in this hell.”

Spencer sighed, he understood her, “Listen. I-I was in jail, not long ago. And I was accused unfairly, as well. Just like you,” Spencer put his gun down, slowly, and lifted his arm so she could see them, “But this is not the right way. I know you feel so much rage. I know how you feel because I've been there, but this is not the way.”

She looked at him, trying to cipher if he was telling the truth; If she should trust him, “I had a husband, and he cheated on me with girls like her,” she pointed to the floor where the girl laid lifeless, “That's why I'm here, because he didn't want me to interfere with his new lover. He told the police things that weren't true. I shouldn't be here, Spencer!” she cried out.

His heart ached for her, “I know that. I can help you, you just have to come with me…”

…

Spencer sighed, while he looked around. The case was over. Joseline was transferred somewhere else.

The team congratulated him for finishing the case so quickly, for doing such a good job. But he didn't feel proud, or victorious. All the way around.

He was avoiding coming home. He let his wife know that they finished the case, and he was heading home. Thirty minutes ago, meanwhile he was still on his desk at the bullpen, playing chess with himself.

He knew he needed her, he knew that he wanted to be in her arms. But, did he deserve it?

Was it bad he connected, and understood so much a serial killer? Was it okay to feel some sort of sympathy for her?

Spencer was hurt by her story of her husband. About why she did what she did, because of him. Maybe if he hadn’t done that.

Maybe if he didn't put her in prison and cheated on her.

Maybe she'd have a different life.

Maybe she would've been a good person.

Spencer sighed one more time.

It wasn't healthy, and it wasn't fair for his wife to push her away when she had been there with him all along. He needed to come home to her.

He stood up, took every little piece of the chess and put it inside the box, taking his time, and grabbed his coat and satchel walking towards the exit.

He got into his car, and played some music he knew she hears. He needed her in any shape or form. He swore he could hear her next to him singing to the lyrics. He needed to clear his thoughts before he got home because she didn't deserve it. She was probably way too worried for him to make her worry once more. He needed to get his shit together, for her.

Spencer didn't even realize when he was already parking in front of their shared home. The lights were on, and he sighed. He knew he wasn't in that prison anymore, he knew he had escaped, but he might have been free from the four walls, but the four walls stayed in his mind, and incarcerated him there. Playing and reminding him of things he had done, things he had suffered, thoughts that had crossed his mind.

He stayed in his car, holding the wheel for a few minutes before he took the courage to get out of the vehicle while he grabbed his stuff.

He slowly walked in, looking for his keys in the pockets of his pants, and putting it in the lock slowly, but before he could turn his wrist to open the door, he saw her.

The love of his life had opened the door, with a soft smile and excited eyes to see him. Spencer couldn't help but smile back, genuinely. He prepared himself to give her a fake smile, but he couldn't fake it while he was with her.

He saw down her body, she was wearing her pajamas with one of his cardigans on her, this time a small red one. He remembered that cardigan fit him perfectly before, but after he met her, and she made sure to feed the doctor with delicious homemade meals, his belly grew and the cardigan was a reminder of their love, somehow.

“Hi my love,” she spoke with a soft voice. Spencer smiled for three seconds before a pout grew in his lips and tears made their way down on his cheeks, “Oh baby,” she spoke. Quickly pulling him inside the comfort and warmth of their house, taking the stuff out of his hands and putting them somewhere else, some of them knocking the floor but all she cared about was him.

She, then, hurriedly wrapped her arms around Spencers neck, while he sobbed and whimpered into her neck, “I don't wanna come back there,” he said, through a sob.

The girl made sure to rub his back and kissed his cheek, “You won't, my love, I promise you won't. I won't allow it,” she comforted.

He sniffed, pulling slightly away from her, “The unsub. I-I connected with her, i-i felt sympathy and understood why she was killing, Angel.”

She cupped his face, “It's okay, that doesn't make you a bad person. Sometimes it's difficult not to feel some sort of sympathy when the story of why they did what they did touches your heart. That doesn't mean you support, defend or justify their actions. That only proves you're human. And it is your job to understand them, baby. That's why, because you put yourself in their shoes, that makes you great at what you do,” she said.

He nodded, taking in her words, “I don't wanna be close to prison like that again. The memories, the flashbacks, they're still here,” he lifted his index finger to make contact with his head, showing what he meant.

Spencer's wife nodded, “I know they are my love. And it will be hard for them to leave, and maybe they will never leave but that's okay because with time they will hurt less,” she softly spoke. Putting his head slightly down to kiss his temples, and forehead, her lips taking their time to part away from this part of his body.

He looked at her, there it was. With worried eyes but full of love, how could he ever run away from someone like her? No, from her specifically. The love his heart held for her was stronger than any other feeling he had felt in the past. The way she quickly made sure he was alright, without judgment, comforting him. He was in love with her, and he wanted to cry at the thought of it. The sentiment was so strong that it ached his heart in such a delicious addictive way, it was the only kind of “pain” he wanted to feel for the rest of his life.

He took in a deep,-deep as the love he felt for her-, sigh, and nodded once more at her words, “I love you,” he let out.

He saw her face shift, confusion taking place, but she smiled whatsoever, “I love you, my love,” she took his hand, and kissed softly, “Tell me what you wanna do? Could I run a bath for you? Do you want to eat or maybe-”

“I wanna go to bed. I want you to hold me,” he admitted. It had been a long journey after he was able to tell his needs.

She nodded with a smile, “Of course, let's go.”

She carefully walked in front of him, with their hands linked, guiding him to their shared bedroom. She opened the door, and pointed to the bed. He nodded, knowing what she wanted. He let go of her hand, feeling cold all of the sudden and sat on the edge of the mattress as he watched her walk to their closet.

Spencer's wife focused on picking up some comfortable clothes for him and decided for one pajama set, one of his favorites.

She smiled making her way back to him, and standing in between his legs, she quickly pressed a kiss on his forehead while taking his tie off, she placed another kiss on his eyes, nose and lips while she unbuttoned his shirt. She let it fall from his shoulder and got it off from his arms, “Arms up, my love,” she gently ordered and he obeyed, while lifting his arms that now felt heavy. The love of his life quickly placed the shirt down his body, and he relaxed his arms, then her hands lowered to his belt but he shook his head.

“I wanna do it,” he smiled, and she nodded, giving him the pajama bottom.

He watched her go to the drawer and get some socks out, mismatched for him. He smiled, feeling cared and loved, he took the socks from her hands after putting his pants that felt nice on his skin. Feeling more and more relaxed, and more at home. He put his socks on, and sat further back until his back hit the pillows.

His wife looked at him with eyes of adoration while he waited for her to join him, she quickly made her way next to him, and laid down onto her side, Spencer quickly taking his place on top of her chest, and hugging her waist, grabbing one of her hands to play with his hair, which she chuckled, and obeyed, slowly scratching his scalp, he felt the exhaustion on his eyes and his body relaxed, “You're at home. You're okay, you can sleep my love,” she whispered.

He whispered, to his world, one more time, “I love you.”

[cloudlessly-light]

Let it be all night 6/6

A/N: This is the last part of Hotchniss getting caught, previous chapters can be read here. Hope you guys enjoy this one!

Summary: Aaron and Emily gets caught… and not only once. Word Count: 2,5k Rating: Explicit Warnings: Smut, in public, dirty talk, pregnancy, consumption of alcohol

Strauss

“So, how do I look?” Emily asks as she walks out of their bathroom and Aaron turns at the sound of her voice. For a moment he’s stunned as he takes in his wife, dressed in a dark green silk dress. The fabric hugged her body, tight over her chest and hips and then falling softly down her thighs, showing a hint of cleavage and when she spun around he saw that the dress was backless, giving him a view of soft, creamy skin. He swallowed hard, mouth suddenly dry as he watches her.

“That good?” She asks with a grin and he nods.

“How did I get this lucky?” He asks as he walks towards her, presses her against the wall for a moment and she shivers, her hands resting against his chest. “Gorgeous thing.” He whispers against her lips before kissing her, causing her to moan softly against his lips.

She felt his hand press softly low on her stomach, felt the little bump under his palm and she smiled into another kiss. Ever since they found out she was pregnant, Aaron had been insatiable, always wanting her, always touching her. It was still early, they hadn’t told anyone yet, wanted to keep this for themselves for at least another couple of weeks but the tiny changes that had started to happen to her body was already driving him insane.

“Honey,” She mumbled against his lips when she felt his hand wander from her waist to find the slit of her dress and warm fingers found her thigh. “We don’t have time.”

“I know,” He nodded and kissed her again. “But fuck sweetheart, you can’t expect me not to want to fuck you when you look this good.” His voice had already dropped to a murmur and she felt her own body respond to him.

“Aaron.” She pushed slightly on his chest, laughed when he released a sigh and his forehead landed on her shoulder. “When we get home you can have me any way you want.”

“Oh really?” He looked back at her with a smirk, his eyes dark as he licked over his bottom lip.

It was going to be a long night.

*

It was the annual Christmas party that the Bureau held every year. Most years the team hadn’t been able to attend, away for cases all over the country, but this year the whole team was there. It was one of those nights that flew by as they all talked, danced and laughed together. Emily sipped the sparkling cider as she stood with Spencer and Dave, so far no one had noticed that she wasn’t drinking champagne and she smiled to herself. Aaron on the other hand, had been drinking the champagne, that much was obvious as he came from behind her, his arms wrapping around her middle.

He didn’t even pretend to listen to Dave as he spoke, his sole focus on his wife. His pregnant wife.

“You’re so sexy.” He whispered quietly against her ear and she tensed slightly in his arms.

“Aaron.” She gave him a pointed look but it didn’t deter him, his lips tugging into a smirk. He could see the flush on her cheeks, knew that look in her eye. She was just as affected by him as he was by her.

“I’m allowed to call my wife sexy, aren’t I?” He pressed a kiss to her cheek just as Spencer cleared his throat.

“Can you…not?” He asked and Emily laughed when Aaron only tightened his hold on her.

“It’s not like we both haven’t seen worse.” Dave scoffed and Emily was sure her cheeks were bright enough to light up the room.

“Dave!” She pushed at his shoulder but the older man only laughed at her clear discomfort.

“If you didn’t want us to tease you every once in a while, you shouldn’t have had sex in my study, or in a club, or the office, or a public gym.” He winked at her and Emily felt her mouth drop open. She turned her head enough to look at Aaron but he seemed too lost looking down her cleavage to pay much attention to the conversation going on.

“You know what, I’m going to find the girls.” She disentangled herself from her husband’s embrace and then gave him a quick kiss.

“Like they don’t tease you more than that, JJ has told me what you get up to on girl’s night.” Spencer grinned and she resisted flipping him off. Instead she rolled her eyes at them and turned towards the sound of Penelope’s laugh.

“She’s told you nothing, what happens at girl’s night stays at girl’s night!” She calls over her shoulder and she can hear Dave chuckling.

*

Aaron couldn’t keep his eyes off Emily, lust simmering under his skin, fingers itching to touch her, lips longing to taste her. He tried to control it, he really did, but how could he be expected to stay away from her when she walked around the venue looking like a goddess? It’s getting late and he needs her, can barely think about anything else but how he wants to hear her moan his name.

He gets her alone, presses her against a wall and she chuckles at the way his hands grip at her hips.

“Honey, you really need to stop-” Her words are cut off by the feeling of his cock, hard against her hip as he pushes against her. His lips find the junction between her neck and shoulder, his tongue licking softly over the skin before grazing his teeth against it. “Someone might see…” She tries, but there’s no denying the way the want for him pulses between her legs, that she needs him just as much as he needs her.

“Let them.” He mutters and she gasps as his thigh press between hers, his lips heated on her skin.

She feels her resolve faulter by every kiss, every touch, but they’re out in the open, barely hidden by a large floor plant and she pushes at his shoulders.

“Not here.” She tells him and the way his eyes gloss over with pure desire makes her suck in a breath. “Follow me.”

His hand is warm and secure in hers as she leads him through the crowd and towards the bathrooms. His other hand keeps moving over her every chance he gets and she knows that she’ll yell at him in the morning for turning her on like this in pubic, but for now all she wanted was to feel him. She pops her head in the women’s bathroom, checks quickly if there’s anybody in the stalls but finds it empty and she figures that it’s a sign.

Aaron smirks as she tugs him towards the stall at the far end, waits until she locks it before he’s on her again. His hands move to tug the fabric of her dress up over her hips, a low groan rumbling in his throat at the sight of her smooth thighs. He kisses her, his tongue prying her lips open while her fingers grip his hair to keep him in place.

Emily’s soft gasp is swallowed by his lips when he pushes her underwear to the side and then dips a finger inside of her. She’s wet and he hums at the feeling of her slick as it coats his finger.

“Baby, no teasing.” She mumbled against his lips and she immediately feels two of his fingers push inside of her and curling, making her moan.

“Shh, sweetheart, don’t get us caught.” He looks smug when he pulls away from her and for some reason it only turns her on further. Her hands move to the fly of his pants, the sound of the zipper loud in the otherwise empty and quiet room.

“You wanted to fuck me,” She gets his cock out through the fly and he’s so hard he’s already leaking, it makes her smirk. “Then fuck me.” She pulls him against her by a firm grip on his tie, and she lifts one of her legs to circle it around his hip.

Aaron is quick to steady her, one hand moving to hold her thigh in a firm grip. When he pushes inside of her it’s smooth and slow, his eyes trained on hers as he watches the pleasure on her face. He moves slowly, finds a rhythm easily and holds back a low groan at the feeling of her wetness around him.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous, fucking perfect.” He mumbles quietly and Emily’s hold tightens on his arms in response, her bottom lip sucked between her teeth to keep from moaning. His hips push harder against her, forcing her against the door that rattles slightly but he doesn’t care and Emily doesn’t stop him so he keeps going, thrusts faster against her until she can’t keep her balance in the high heels she’s wearing for any longer.

“Sit down.” She pants and pushes him back until he’s sitting on the closed toilet. She sits back against him, sinks down on him easily with her back against his chest . She takes a moment to steady her breathing before starting to grind on his lap, Aaron’s low hiss inly spurring her on. Aaron’s hands finds her breasts, squeezes them through her dress as he presses heated kisses over the skin of her back, up her neck, filthy words falling from his lips as she moves above him.

“You’re so wet for me, so tight around my cock.” He keeps one hand on her breast while the other moves over the soft silk of her dress until he reaches her clit. She can’t keep the whimper down when he starts to circle it quickly. “That’s it, fuck yourself, use my cock sweetheart.”

“Aaron…” She’s not sure if she’s warning him to stay quiet or if she’s begging for more. She moves her hips against him, chases the orgasm that’s building with every second until she feels her thighs trembling.

He can feel her walls tightening, bites down his grunt by biting down on her shoulder as he starts to push up against her, fucking deeper into her and Emily put her own hand over her mouth to keep from moaning. She’s so close she can taste it and then the sound of the door opening makes her freeze.

She gives Aaron a panicked look over her shoulder when he doesn’t stop, his fingers rubbing faster, his strong hips continuing to thrust into her, only getting her closer.

He smirks at the way she’s trembling in an effort to hold off, his eyes on her while his ears are trained on the sound of high heeled shoes, of the toilet flushing and then the stranger washing her hands. He pinches her clit between his fingers and Emily jerks so violently that she would have fallen off his lap if he hadn’t held on to her. She comes shaking and biting down on her fist hard enough that he’s surprised she doesn’t break skin.

She feels the pleasure in her entire body, her eyes rolling back and hips rocking into his automatically as he makes her come on his lap while a stranger is only a few feet away from them. But she can’t find it in her to be mad, not when he made her come so hard she wasn’t sure she’d ever come down.

He nudges her off him once he’s sure that she can stand and the sound of the door closing sounds through the bathroom, then quicky picks her up. Her legs wrap around his waist as he squeezes her ass. His back would kill him tomorrow, but it would be worth it. The sound of her back colliding with the door once more is loud but he doesn’t care, they’re alone again.

“You’re crazy.” She gasps, a smile on her face, cheeks and chest flushed.

“Can’t help it, you’re driving me crazy.” He kisses her again as he starts to thrust harder and deeper than before. He can feel his release building by each thrust, can’t focus on anything but how she clings to him, arms and legs around him, center tight around his shaft. “You feel so fucking good on my cock.”

“Come inside me Aaron, please come so I can feel it all night.” She shivers at the growl that leaves him, his teeth digging into her neck and for sure leaving a mark that she won’t be able to hide. But it doesn’t matter, she doesn’t care, not when she sees the pleasure on his face, how his eyes darken and jaw clenching. “Let go honey.” She whispers and then squeezes hard around him and Aaron gasps.

“Coming.” It’s all he gets out before he comes, his hips stuttering and knees weakening as he gives in to his release. He’s sure she’ll have fingertip shaped bruises on her ass from the way his gripping her, knows that he’ll kiss each one in the morning. He’s still shaking slightly when he sets her down, Emily’s own hands moving over his arms and down his side, makes sure that he can keep standing and then pulls his zipper up before pushing her dress back over her hips.

“I think it’s about time we go home.” She smiles and pulls him into a soft kiss, one that he happily returns.

“Yes, it’ll be more comfortable having my way with you on our bed.” He chuckles as she unlocks the door.

“You’re insatiable…” Her words die on her tongue when she opens the door and comes face to face with Erin Strauss, standing by the sink with a look of horror on her face. “Ma’am-”

“Don’t talk.” The other woman raises her hand as she cuts Emily off. “Let’s never speak of this.” She looks between Aaron’s rumbled hair and Emily’s creased dress.

“We weren’t-”

“Having sex in public? Weren’t committing a federal crime?” She interrupts Aaron this time and Emily flinches slightly. The older woman gave them another stern look, her mouth in a straight line. “Do not speak, don’t make this worse. We are ignoring that this ever happened.”

Aaron relaxed slightly at that, knew that Erin was only going to pretend for Dave’s sake but he was still grateful.

“Thank you. We were never here.” He gently pushes Emily who stands rooted in place. “We’re going to go.”

“I think that’s wise.” Erin nods curtly, keeps her eyes on them until the door closes behind them.

“What should we do?” Emily asks the moment they’re alone again and Aaron puts his arm around her shoulder.

“We do what she said, we don’t mention it.” He smirks and kisses her temple. “At least I won’t, you’ll be telling the girls at girl’s night.”

Emily knew that he was right.

“I know,” He nodded and kissed her again. “But fuck sweetheart, you can’t expect me not to fuck you when you look this good.” His voice had already dropped to a murmur and she felt her own body respond to him.

“Aaron.” She pushed slightly on his chest, laughed when he released a sigh and his forehead landed on her shoulder. “When we get home you can have me any way you want.”

“Oh really?” He looked back at her with a smirk, his eyes dark as he licked over his bottom lip.

It was going to be a long night.