#can’t wait to see penelope fall harder

[its-a-show-stoppin-number]

after rewatching Criminal Minds, I am fully convinced that Luke has been in love with Penelope since day one (or he at least had feelings for her the whole time)

[cloudlessly-light]

OOOOMMMGGGG!!!!! I can’t get the idea of Emily buying a skims dress and Aaron going absolutely crazy for it. Emily would look drop dead in a skims dress.

A/N: Thanks to @sapphoe-sun for bullying me into posting chapter 3 a few days earlier than I had originally thought. Happy thanksgiving to those of you who celebrate, in my part of the world we do not, so instead I spent the evening writing more filth.

Title:  Seems you cannot be replaced (Chapter 3/7)   Summary: It shouldn’t have happened, but they were drunk. It shouldn’t have happened but it felt right. It shouldn’t have happened but now it has. It shouldn’t have happened now they have to deal with it.   

Or, Emily always leaves before he wakes up, but she always leaves a note. Word Count:  3,6k Rating:  Explicit Warnings: Smut, oral, rough, dirty talk, consumption of alcohol, hint of feelings

It’s more awkward seeing him after the second time. She’s running late that morning, barely paying attention as she parks her car and then rushes to the elevator leading up to their floor. She’s late so she doesn’t expect him to be there, also waiting for the elevator. But when she sees him, she stops so fast she almost trips, frozen to the spot. He freezes for a moment too, eyes locked on her for a second before he clears his throat.

“Hey.” He says just as the elevator door opens and he holds his arm out and waits for her to enter first.

“Hi.” She answers as her heart beats hard enough that she thinks she’ll crack a rib. “I- uhm-.”

“We made a mistake, again.” He interrupts her but his voice isn’t as sure as it had been the first time they had this conversation. “I shouldn’t have texted you.”

“It’s alright.” She tells him, because he might have been the one to reach out to her, but she had been the one hoping that he’d take it there, had been more than happy once he did. “But,” She sighs heavily, more than aware of their limited time before the ding of the elevator would force them to stop this conversation. “Hotch, maybe we should try and stay away from each other for a while?”

He looks away from her for the first time, eyes moving to the lit up numbers that’s showing as they continue up.

“Maybe that’s what’s needed. I’ll pair you with Reid or Morgan for the time being.” He turns completely from her, taking a small step away just as they get to the sixth floor. An appropriate distance, she thinks as he once again waits for her to get out first. Always the gentleman.

They walk the short way to the bullpen in silence that’s tense and uncomfortable and once they’re inside she immediately heads to the kitchenette as he continues towards his office.

She knew it was the right thing to do, knew that they needed some space from each other. So why did she feel disappointment when she looked at his retreating form?

A few weeks passes and just as he had suggested they rarely worked together, she was sent off to crime scenes and he’d be at a station, or he’d be questioning victims and she’d go to the ME’s. If they were in the same room they were never alone but it wasn’t uncommon that their eyes would meet in some sort of silent understanding. They understood each other, that had only become more obvious as they worked apart.

She didn’t want to admit that she missed being around him, didn’t want to be that girl, but she was sure she caught him looking at her from across the room, was certain that he had refrained from reaching for her instinctively and it made things harder. But she couldn’t fall in love with her boss, could not make that mistake. So she ignored the looks and the urges and it worked, for a while.

Then it’s JJ’s birthday and for the first time in what felt like forever, they have the night off.

“I want to go somewhere nice.” The blonde says as she watches the rest of the team pack up. “So I booked us a table at Buon Giorno.”

“Oh I love that place! But how did you manage to get a last minute reservation?” Penelope asked, brown eyes wide as she stared at the other blonde.

“I have my ways, I can be very persuasive.” JJ grins and Emily arches a brow at her friend before putting on her coat.

“If it was Italian you wanted, I could have cooked.” Dave says, cutting off the excited ramble Penelope for sure would start.

“No, I booked us a table, we are drinking wine and eating a nice mean and we are relaxing.” JJ’s eyes moved to Aaron who was just leaving his office. “All of us, I know you don’t have Jack tonight.”

Emily tried to hide the smirk on her lips as she looked at Aaron. He wanted to say no, but if he listened to anybody it was JJ. Behind her she heard Derek chuckle lightly, he too having caught the look of surprise on their boss’s face.

“Fine.” Aaron finally said and looked at his watch. “What time?”

“8,” JJ turned to look at Penelope and Emily. “We should get home and change.”

“It’s 3 hours until 8.” Spencer’s confusion was obvious and while Dave suppressed his own chuckle, Derek patted him on the shoulder.

“You got so much to learn about women, kid.”

*

Emily felt his eyes on her the moment she walked into the restaurant. The black, floor length dress she wore hugged her body tight, the thin straps showing off her collarbones and a bit of cleavage. She felt sexy, confident and the burn from his stare only made her feel more secure.

“Damn Princess. You look good.” Derek was the first one to greet her and she rolled her eyes at him.

“Thanks, you don’t look so bad yourself. All of you.” She looked around the table where everybody except Penelope was seated at. “Happy birthday again JJ.” She smiled and hugged her tightly.

“Thank you.” She smiled back just as widely and sat back down while Emily walked to take a seat in between Derek and Aaron, knowing that Penelope would want the last seat next to JJ.

She looked at Aaron quickly, his jaw slightly tense and dark eyes familiar in the way he was looking back at her. She felt the urge to touch him, her fingers trembling in her lap and she quickly fisted her hand tightly. He looked like he was about to say something, mouth opening just slightly but he was interrupted by the sound of Penelope’s heels.

“Sorry I’m late!” She quickly hugged JJ before sitting down. “I was getting everything ready and lost track of time.”

“Ready?” JJ looked around the table, confusion clear on her face.

“Dinner first.” Penelope grinned while JJ tried to argue but didn’t have time before the waiter came to take their orders.

They enjoyed the food and wine and each other, it was one of those rare nights that they rarely got and Emily loved it. Jokes were told between sips of red wine, stories shared between bites of pasta and by the time the check came Emily had almost completely forgotten about the way Aaron’s eyes on her made her feel.

But then they’re heading to the bar where Penelope had invited the rest of JJ’s friends and she ends up squeezed in between the door and Aaron in the cab. Spencer was beside him and Dave up front, the two lost in an argument that Emily hadn’t paid attention to and definitely couldn’t pay attention to when she felt the heat of Aaron’s strong thigh pressing against hers. He was close, so close that when he turned his head to speak his breathing fell against her face.

“Are you okay?” He asked as he watched the way she pressed against the door.

“Yeah, just a little crowded in here.” She offered him a smile, one that he returned before his eyes slowly moved from her face, down to her exposed neck and then cleavage. When he looked back at her face, her cheeks were tinted in that familiar pink hue and he licked his bottom lip.

“Sorry.” He muttered, his voice low and thick and she felt the pull low in her stomach. The moment was gone as quickly as it had come, like Aaron realized what was happening and he shook himself out of it, facing forward and giving her the time she needed to clear her head.

It wasn’t a long drive from the restaurant to the bar, for which she was thankful as she took a couple of deep breaths of fresh air when she stepped out of the car. She was quick to walk in with Spencer, intent to try and keep some distance between herself and Aaron. If she didn’t, she knew where they’d end up.

It seemed like Aaron had a similar idea, keeping away from her as he drank scotch and talked with Dave in a corner. But his eyes drifted towards her often, like he couldn’t tear his eyes off her and that dress. The thrill of it is impossible to ignore and she wonders if anybody else is picking up on it. But she realizes that no, they’re all too busy talking, playing pool or darts, they’re busy having fun and she knows that they all needed a night like this.

But she can’t concentrate on the conversation around her, couldn’t focus enough because she knew, realized somehow, that he’s going to come to her. And it’s thrilling.

She’s by herself by the bar when it happens. The familiar heat of his body against her back, one hand next to her as he leans against the bar. Her hair is up and that means that his breath falls against her bare neck, making her shiver.

“Did you really have to wear this?” He talks quietly against her ear and goosebumps rise on her arms.

“I like it.” She keeps looking ahead as he lets the crowds of people push him against her.

“I like it too. That’s the problem.” It’s a murmur against the back of her neck, his voice low enough that the slight growl of it vibrates against her skin.

“We’re supposed to keep away from each other.” She turns then, comes face to face with him and is almost taken back by the lust that emanates from him. Eyes blown black, breathing slightly ragged, fingers gripping the edge of the bar as he boxes her in. Emily looks around, can’t see anyone from the team near them and then she looks back at him. “Shouldn’t we?”

“We should.” He agrees and straightens slightly as he lets go of the bar, knowing that they’re on thin ice as it is. “But then you came to dinner looking like this.”

“Aaron, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“It was never a good idea to begin with.” He smirks, lets one hand graze the curve of her hip to feel the soft fabric of the dress. “Should I walk away?”

She knew that she should say yes, knew that every time she went there with him her feelings would blur even more. As much as she wanted to keep lying to herself, it wasn’t just physical between them anymore and that’s the precise reason why she should say yes. But that’s also the reason she can’t.

“No.” She breathes and she sees the way he relaxes and then both his hands are on her hips, pulling her tighter against him.

“My place is closer.”

*

He’s on her the second they’re in the cab, managing to slip away with excuses of a headache and seeing Jack and as Emily sees the lights from the bar get further away, Aaron’s lips are on her neck.

“You smell so good.” He groans as he inhales the smell of her perfume and the scent that is distinctively Emily. Then he’s moving his hand over her body, only stopping once he’s holding the back of her neck and angling her face towards his. Dark eyes dart over her face, like he’s trying to memorize every freckle, count every eyelash.

“What?” She finally asks and he smiles, something soft and almost shy.

“You’re so beautiful Emily.” He doesn’t give her time to respond before his lips are on hers, swallowing up whatever words she was about to say. But for that she’s thankful because she wasn’t even sure what her answer would be. This time it wasn’t words thrown in the throws of passion, but something that felt precious. She forces the thought away, instead her fingers find their way to his short hair and she grips it tightly, wanting to keep him close.

He hums against her lips, pushes his tongue between her lips and pulls her closer, the hand not on the back of her neck fisting the fabric of her dress at the waist. She’s completely lost in him, was already going crazy with desire and then the cab driver clears his throat loudly.

Aaron pulls away with a laugh of embarrassment, he seemingly as lost in her as she had been in him. But he doesn’t move away from her, instead he takes her hand in his and laces their fingers. It felt good, his grip feeling warm and safe and she knows that she should walk away, if nothing else she should pull her hand away. But she doesn’t.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks and she chuckles lightly.

“How large your hands are.” It’s not a lie, not completely and he smiles too. “And how I’m really looking forward to getting out of these heels.”

“Oh really?” His smile turns a little darker as he leans closer to her ear. “And here I was thinking we’d keep the heels on tonight.” He whispers against her ear, making her shiver.

The rest of the cab ride goes by in relative silence, the occasional squeeze from his hand and knowing looks all that she’s able to focus on. When they’re finally outside his apartment Aaron keeps her hand in his and doesn’t let go until they’re inside and he turns to lock the door while she hangs her jacket up.

“Look at you.” He growls as she stands in front of him, eyes moving up and down her body, like he’s done many times that night, but this time the look in his eye is wilder. “I’ve wanted to tear this dress off you all night.”

She takes a step back when he steps forward, a teasing smirk on her face.

“Do not rip it. I won’t have anything to go home in.” She backs up with him following her until she almost falls over the couch, but Aaron is quick to wrap his arms around her.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, this is a dress I want to see again.” He spins her around so she’s facing away from him and his lips ghost over the back of her neck. “But for now, it’ll look nice on this floor too.”

She feels his hands as he slowly pulls the straps down, his mouth soon following to place hot, open-mouthed kisses on her shoulder. He continues down her spine as he keeps pulling the fabric of her dress down, a low grunt of appreciation leaving him as the strapless bra and then matching panties come into view. He kneels behind her, pulls the panties off her and helps her step out of both before gently pushing her forward.

“What are you-”

“Bend over.” He interrupts her, voice so low it’s barely a rumble in his chest as he pushes her down to lean over the back of the couch.

She’s already panting, every breath he takes tickles the back of her thighs, his fingers slowly move from her calves and up her legs and back again. Then he’s urging her to spread her legs wider and she does without hesitation. Her cheeks are burning from being so exposed, but she can hear the way his breathing hitches, can feel his touch turning needier and she relaxes.

When his tongue moves through her it’s without warning and she lets out a sound of surprise that quickly turns into a moan as he pushes his tongue inside of her. His arms wrap around her thighs, keeping her open for him as sucks her clit between his lips. There’s no teasing like it had been the first time, his movements deliberate as he seemed to remember everything she enjoyed.

“Fuck, don’t stop.” She whimpers after only a few minutes, her legs already trembling. She can feel his smirk against her wet folds, and if she wasn’t getting so close she’d use her high heel to stomp at his foot for his smugness, but he’s only flicking her clit faster, grabs onto her harder.

“Aaron.” She gasps, face hallway buried in the pillows as her hips buckle into him, chasing her orgasm.

“Do it.” He groans and then sucks her clit hard and she comes with a scream. Her entire body is still shaking when he stands behind her, one hand between her legs to rub her clit and keeping her orgasm going as he pushes his jeans down his legs.

“Oh fuck!” She cries out when he pushes inside of her before she’s even fully come down, aftershocks still rocking her body when he stretches her.

“Emily.” He grits out through clenched teeth, only taking a second to enjoy her still clenching pussy before he starts to thrust hard and deep inside of her. His hand is still on her clit, the other keeps her down by gripping the back of her neck and she whimpers at the steady pleasure. “Fuck you feel so good.”

She felt her body respond to him too quickly, the tension between her legs already back. Her hands were gripping the couch in a death grip, moans and whimpers fell from her lips louder and louder and she could hear him behind her, groaning and swearing.

“Another one already baby?” It was rhetorical, her center was clinging to his cock, body tensing by every stroke of his hips.

“P-please.” She gasped and he snickered, fingers moving faster over her clit.

“Please what?”

“Make me come.”

“Needy thing.” There was no malice in his voice, only that teasing tone that she had gotten used to when they were together like this. And it only made the tension in her stomach build faster. “Say it again.”

“Say what?” She was so close she could taste it, every muscle in her body tensing.

“Say my name when you come.” He snapped his hips harder and she came again.

“Aaron!” She cried out, body spasming between his and the back of the couch, legs completely giving out as pleasure made her eyesight blur.

Through delicious pleasure she felt him slip out of her, then he was helping her out of the heels and gently pulled her up to look at him. Her eyes were hazy, a lazy smile on her lips and he kissed her.

“Let’s go to bed, you’ll ruin my couch if we continue out here.” He winks when she swats his side with a fake huff.

“Rude.” She muttered but didn’t try to stop him when he pushed her towards the bedroom, arms around her as he kept her close.

“Me? Never.” He grinned against her neck before removing her bra and then pushed her onto the bed.

She spread her legs, let him push back inside of her with a smooth thrust as he kissed the air from her legs. Her arms looped around his neck, her legs wrapped around his hips, clung to him as he started to move, hitting deep inside of her over and over again.

“So good, feel so good.” He whispered somewhere near her collarbone, his lips everywhere he could reach, leaving small marks on pale skin.

Her nails were leaving their own marks on him, little halfmoons dug into his skin, scratches along his back. She knew he loved it, the slight pain that came with it making his groans louder and deeper, until he was fucking her hard enough for the bedframe to slam against the wall.

“Let go Aaron, let me feel it.” She gasped and he groaned in response. His hand moved between them again, fingers finding her sensitive clit.

“Gonne fill you up. But first you’re giving me one more.” He panted and her head fell back against the pillow.

She isn’t sure how he does it, but he manages to drag a third orgasm from her in no time at all, the pleasure rushing through her hard and fast. Her orgasm forces his, the tightening around his cock enough to get him to the edge too. The moan together, bodies locked and breathing heaving as they let themselves enjoy their combined bliss.

“Your neighbors must really hate you” She teased once he’s rolled off her and they’d come down from their respective highs. He laughs, still breathless and reaches for her.

“Maybe.” He said as he rolled her on top of him. They were silent for a moment, his finger gentle as he brushed her messy bangs away. “You know, you don’t have to go.”

“What do you mean?” Her eyebrows furrowed as she studied him.

“Tonight, you can stay.” His voice is gentle, careful and she sighs.

“You know I can’t.” She says but doesn’t move away from him, instead she lets her head lean on his shoulder as his arms wrap around her.

“Yeah, I know.”

Aaron had always been a light sleeper, but Emily had the ability to move around without disturbing him. It’s early when he wakes up, early enough for the sun to barely creak in through the blinds and yet he knows that the space next to him will be empty even before he turns to look.

When he does he finds a napkin from the bar they had been at, Emily’s familiar writing on it and he sighs heavily. He hadn’t want her to leave.

Last night was fun – Emily

[tangyangie]

» LOVE SONG ♪

character(s): spencer reid (insert nerd emoji)

genre(s): fluffier than that one cheesecake recipe

description: f!reader, established relationship, i stole this idea from a tv show you don’t know

notes: here you go you little eggshell (this is aimed)

im never posting this (maybe for valentines idk)

god this is so long

“valentines is coming up, loverboy.”

“how’s your gift to your little y/n-poo coming along??”

“stop teasing me, you guys.” reid sighed, overwhelmed by his indecisiveness to choose a gift for you.

penelope and derek acted like kindergarteners with a friend who had a crush, kicking their legs and giggling. “oh, i know!” penelope exclaimed. “you should bake her a pie with all the numbers of pi on it!”

“you’re so creative.” spencer deadpanned.

“ooh, i have a better idea!” derek chimed in. “you should write her a letter with that one heart graph equation on it.”

“why is that one so horrible?!” spencer complained. “you know what, never mind. i’ll figure it out myself.” he sighed, trudging out of the office. “good night, everyone.”

»»»

“hey, spence! i’m home.”

quickly putting away his computer, he rushed to the door to greet you.

“hey. how was work?” he asked, smiling at you as he took your things and set them down, allowing you to stretch and walk to your bedroom.

“exhausting. how about you?” you laughed.

“about the same.” he stated, doing his best to shield your valentine’s day gift from you.

“…spencer, you’ve never been good at hide and seek.” you giggled.

“how did you-“

“doesn’t take a profiler to read someone like a book, love.”

“actually, studies show-“

“shush. what is that?” you questioned.

“huh? it’s nothing, don’t worry. it’s not important. nothing special.”

“i didn’t even suggest that it was something special, yet you just denied it was twice. now… at least a hint?”

“no, y/n! i can’t tell you yet!” he laughed, attempted to conceal the pile of papers behind he back, you trying to slither around him to steal a glimpse of at least one.

“oh, i see.” you giggled. “is this for the certain holiday that’s coming up on the 14th of this month?”

“possibly?”

“alright, i’ll leave you alone… for now.”

sighing, he waited for you to walk out of the bedroom. he turned his back, stacking the papers together to put them somewhere you wouldn’t find it.

“by the way, your gift is ready.” you smiled, popping your head in the doorway.

smiling, he walked over to you and pressed a kiss to your forehead, ruffling your hair. “thank you, y/n.”

»»»

“you’re doing what??” penelope gaped.

derek was laughing so hard, he swore he was going to fall right there and be sucked into the floor and attacked by carpet particles.

“did you listen to a word we said, reid??” penelope was in disbelief.

derek continued wheezing.

“i get it, morgan!” spencer exclaimed.

“y/n isn’t going to fall for the genius-y stuff, reid!! i’ve seen her enough to know she wants something from the heart, not your huge head.”

“a mathematically.. perfect.. song??” derek managed to squeeze between laughs.

“it’s not that bad of an idea!” spencer argued.

“yes, it is!” emily chimed in.

“you too??” spencer whined.

“if you’re gonna write her a song, you need to tell her what you actually feel. and please, please, please, don’t mention her ass.” penelope said with a frustrated look.

the more the group stayed on this topic, the harder it would become for morgan to even attempt to calm down.

the rest of the day, spencer tried to figure out something else. something where math or “genius-y stuff”, as penelope said, wouldn’t come into the equation.

maybe he would have to come up with it all by himself.

»»»

“this is stupid.” he sighed, throwing away yet another piece of paper with seemingly meaningless lyrics.

“aww, what’s wrong, spence?” emily asked, noticing the very audible ‘this is stupid’ from across the room.

“nothing, everything’s fine.”

“are you still writing that song for y/n?”

“..not the same one, but still a song, yes.”

“ooh, are those original lyrics?? if you’re a genius in everything else, you must at least be a lyrical genius as well!” emily scampered over, eager to take a look.

“wait-!”

emily snatched the papers before spencer could react. “aww, spence!! these are so cute!! y/n’s gonna love this!”

“the song’s not finished, and the lyrics aren’t good,”

“they’re amazing, reid! i’m sure y/n will spin in circles when she hears this.”

“i barely have the melody! what makes you guys think i can finish a whole song in less than a week?”

“we can always help,” penelope joined in, looking as though hearts were going to start pouring out of her eyes.

"i thought it was supposed to be from my heart, not your heart." reid joked.

"hey, you were the one who was complaining about how long it was going to take. besides, the lyrics are all yours, we can just help with the actual music." derek suggested.

"besides, no matter how many PhDs you have, it's a little difficult to play 10 instruments at once and have it in time with everything else." emily poked.

"fine, i'm convinced. just don't embarrass me."

»»»

“i don’t think i’ve ever had a work day more exhausting than that.” emily sighed, out of breath.

“i agree. reid, why did you need to make the chorus so long??” penelope chimed in.

“it’s not my fault you volunteered to help.” spencer huffed.

“well, now that we’re finished, how about we go eat and go home?” derek got up from the slumping position on the table.

everyone agreed, so they all enjoyed dinner and drinks at a small restaurant, while brainstorming more ideas of what spencer could do for valentine’s day.

“don’t you guys also need to focus on your own valentine’s day??” spencer rolled his eyes.

“there’s plenty of time for that. now, i think you should get y/n a giant, fluffy, huge cake that says-“

»»»

“so, today’s the day, loverboy.”

“are you going to give it to her?”

“have you hinted it to her at all?”

reid’s head was collapsed on his desk, overwhelmed by the thoughts that you might not like your gift.

“what if i edited something wrong?” spencer started questioning. “what if there’s something in the background??”

“reid, you’re literally a genius. you would’ve known if there’s something wrong.” emily laughed.

“but, what if-“

“shh! reid, even if the song is so atrocious that she’d throw up, she still loves you so much that she’d probably listen to it millions of times if you asked her to!” penelope argued.

“no, she’s very particular about her music taste.”

“but she’s also particular about you!”

“but-“

“listen. you’re gonna go and give the song to her and she’s going to love it, and she’ll kiss you as many times there are notes.”

“but-“

“shut up!”

“...”

»»»

you returned home from work, excited to give spencer his gift. or, more specifically, take him to his gift.

“hey, spence,” you sang. “ready for your gift?”

“one second, y/n!” he shouted lightly from the other side of the house.

“what’s going on in here?” you smiled, stepping past the threshold into the dimly lit room.

“y/n!” spencer jumped. “i’m..”

“is this… a cassette tape?” you asked, sliding next to him.

“…yes.”

“for me?”

silently, you slid your fingers to his hand.

“..yes.” he whispered. “it’s not..”

he struggled to find the words.

“..finished?”

“no, it’s finished, it’s just…”

you leaned into his side. “show me, spence,” you hushed. “i’m sure it’s not that bad.” you joked.

“that’s rude,” he said, smiling, he tentatively pressed the play button.

»»»

“spencer, it’s-“

“i know, it’s bad. it sucks, i’m aware.” he groaned, his head in his hands.

“no!!” you laughed. “spencer, it’s beautiful! you made a whole song for me??”

turning back around, he looked relieved. “i..” he spoke, not knowing how to react.

you stepped over to him, grabbed his hands, and said, “spence, thank you. i love it.” you smiled.

“y/n-”

“shush.” you whispered, brushing your lips against his, before finally connecting them.

slightly breathing in, you could feel spencer’s chest slightly relax. you interlocked your fingers with his, reaching one hand to cup his face.

slowly rocking, he wrapped his arms around you, slowly bringing you closer and breathing in your scent.

“alright, alright,” you say, breaking apart. “now, get ready for your gift. how do you feel about dinner?”

oh my god.

that’s the longest thing i’ve ever written

not even for english class have i written something that’s longer than that

side note i just found out matthew gray gubler plays simon in alvin and the chipmunks 😭😭

[morganaspendragonss]

heart catches on every thorn

in which i take the revelation scene and modify it to let tk actually have some feelings and react

not really interested in going over arguments again so i'm just going to drop this and then back away title from sweet hibiscus tea by penelope scott

ao3 | 1.1k | 4.01 spoilers, hurt/comfort

The sound of the crew’s laughter floats up to them, proof that the world hasn’t stopped even if it feels like it has for TK. He’s sitting on the end of his bed in the bunkroom, Carlos above him on the divider, and this news above him, casting a shadow over the brightness of these weeks since he proposed. He’d imagined so many things going wrong, had almost counted on it, really, but not this. Never this; never even anything close to this. 

TK doesn’t blame Carlos for what he did when he was eighteen, adrift in a family he believed wouldn’t accept him. How could he? He will never be able to understand how Carlos must have felt back then and TK has long since made his peace with that. He doesn’t even blame him for continuing the marriage after Iris came back; TK knows as well as anyone – perhaps even better, given his job and numerous hospital stays – that the system in this country is broken and that desperate, extreme measures are sometimes necessary to stay afloat, much as he wishes it weren’t so.

TK understands all that, and he’s okay with it. What’s harder to get his head around is that he’s only just hearing about this.

“Why did you never tell me?” he asks, chancing a glance up at Carlos. His fiancé looks destroyed, eyes wide and sad, and it tugs on TK’s heart like only Carlos can. He wants nothing more than to hold him and tell him that everything will be okay – and it will; if TK has faith in anything, it’s that they are strong enough to get through whatever fate sees fit to throw at them. But he needs to understand first.

Carlos takes a shaky breath and looks down at his hands, then back up at TK. “I didn’t know how,” he says. “I thought she was dead and we weren’t…you know. Things were complicated, and then after she came back she needed me. She needed my help. And we were just so new that I didn’t want to ruin it with something as huge as–as this. The situation got out of hand and I didn’t know how to deal with it so I just didn’t and I convinced myself that if you ever found out you would—”

He cuts himself off, but TK knows what he was going to say.

“You thought I would run away,” he surmises. Carlos starts to stammer an objection, but, though the thought sets off a dull ache in TK’s chest, he can’t deny it. “No,” he says heavily. “You were right. I… I probably would have. If you had told me this two years ago, I probably would have run away.”

It’s a paradox, in a way. TK wishes Carlos had been honest with him from the beginning, but if he had known when they first started dating, it would be a lie to say that he wouldn’t have been tempted to turn tail and run. So maybe Carlos not saying anything was what got them here, to a day where they can talk about this and move past it.

But still. Still.

It doesn’t get rid of the ache in TK’s chest and the terrible thought at the back of his mind that the past three years have been built around a lie. That he doesn’t truly know the man he’s planning on marrying. That there are other secrets, other skeletons, that are just waiting for their moment to jump out.

If he thinks about it anymore, then he will get pissed. He will explode, and TK doesn’t know how far he’ll be able to control the damage. So, he stands and takes a step back.

“I love you,” he says gently, pouring as much of himself as he can into the words to convince Carlos he’s telling the truth, “and I’m not running away. But I need some time.”

Carlos’s face falls and TK can’t help but to close the distance once more, wrapping his arms around Carlos’s neck and holding him close. “We’ll be okay,” he murmurs in his ear, pressing the lightest of kisses to his skin. “We’ll figure it out together, I promise.”

TK pulls back then, sliding his hands down Carlos’s sides until they fall back to his own. “But I need to figure this out for myself first, okay?”

Carlos swallows, nods. TK sends him a watery smile and gently strokes his cheek. “I love you,” he says, then turns away – to go where, he doesn’t know; just somewhere he can process everything for a moment.

“TK, wait.” 

Carlos’s voice stops him in his tracks and TK waits as he catches up to him, a hand nervously running through his hair and mussing the tightly gelled formation he keeps it in for work. It distracts TK for a second; Carlos is perfect in every way, but his curls are one of TK’s favourite physical features of his. He loves getting his fingers caught up in the strands, tugging at them and playing with them and messing them up even though Carlos pretends to hate it. He itches to reach up and do it now, but Carlos’s next words shock him out of his thoughts.

“There’s something else,” Carlos says, though his eyes quickly widen and, before TK can spiral any further, he rushes to correct himself. “Not a secret. Or–or anything bad, I swear. It’s just…the venue called earlier. They had a cancellation and they’re offering us the spot. It’s in, um…” He trails off and his gaze turns down, but TK doesn’t get a chance to ask before he continues, “It’s in eight weeks.”

“Eight– Baby, that’s…” An out-of-control grin tugs at TK’s lips, but he can’t forget what’s looming over them and the joy is fast replaced by an almost overwhelming anxiety. “Can we make that?”

“Texas law requires you to be divorced for a month before remarrying,” Carlos tells him, and the anxiety goes up another notch. “It’s tight, I know, but we can make it. We will, TK, I’m going to do everything in my power to make this right. I will make it right.”

“We will,” TK corrects gently. “Just…not right now. Give me a minute to get my head around things first.”

“As many as you want,” Carlos promises, and that… Well, it’s a start. TK’s under no illusion about the headfuck this is going to cause, and just thinking about the newly accelerated timeline and the urgency of getting this divorce is enough to set his entire body on edge. It’s a lot – too much – and he knows he’s got some conversations with Cooper ahead of him to make sure he stays firmly on the ledge.

But TK has faith, and he’s going to cling to it with everything he has.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

ari!! i am dropping by to give some good vibes & good weather for the weekend!! 🥹🌤️ & am also curious!! what song reminds you of any of your blorbos? 🥺

sel !!!! tysm ur so sweet, im sending u sunlight and flowers n treats :3 ☀️☀️☀️🌻🌻🍰🍰🍪🍪 i hope ur weekend is full of rest n the fluffiest vibes !! <3

aaaa thats such a good question too !!!!! i have a lot for gojo n geto, and then some for megumi n shoko too i think … im just gonna put it all under the cut in case it gets long i !!!! love love love assigning songs to my blorbos <333

FIRST OF ALL …. sel. u know how i am w gojo….. phshdhs i have a bunchhh of different songs i associate w him but !! here r a couple :>

ok so first !! i firmly believe that gojo is a swiftie so i legally have to assign him a taylor swift song n this is basic but ’cruel summer’ is just so HIM. i especially think of hs gojo when i hear it !!

so cut the headlights, summer’s a knife // i’m always waiting for you just to cut to the bone // devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes // and if i bleed, you’ll be the last to know

also ….. pinkpantheress ….. i dont know WHY i just get big gojo vibes when i listen to her songs 😭😭😭 … i firmly believe he’d listen to her too. i esp associate him w ’break it off’, ’capable of love’ and ’close to you’!!! the lyrics remind me sm of him too :’) i !! love our lonely babyboy !!!!

you can’t even sleep when you turn the lights off // white noise in your head makes it harder to breathe // but easier to tell me when it’s time for me to leave

this happened at the start, everytime we try we fall apart // you can’t seem to hold my heart // close to you // and i know that you make it clear that you want me out of here // though it’s loneliness you fear // close to you

and i think i need a picture ’cause it’s never enough // to see you smilin’ in my mind when i lay still in the dark // it starts with you

i’m obsessed with the idea that one day it breaks up // ’cause after that, i know i’ll never be as capable of love // after you

and then !! and then !!! ’be nice to me’ by the front bottoms is my favorite ever n its !! so so gojo !!!! reminds me sm of him and sugu ;(

if we all left it alone // i’m sure it’d work itself out fine // we keep playing with the numbers // we are running out of time

but you’re a killer // and i’m your best friend // think it’s unfair, your situation // you say i’m changing // sorry, i didn’t know i had to stay the same

and you’re a werewolf and i’m a full moon // and all your very worst enemies will be gone soon // i think you’re changing // don’t worry, you don’t gotta stay the same

(also …. ’fighter’ by jack stauber …. yeaaa. gojocoded)

call me fighter, i’ll mop the floor with you // call me lover, i’ll take you for a drink or two // you’ll get older, and maybe then you’ll feel some control

now as for geto …………. i think i have a billion angsty geto songs but tbh above all else hes so mitski coded. he IS mitski. ’last words of a shooting star’ and ’why didnt you stop me?’ were literally written for geto idc . this is just sooo …. T_T my doomed boy

all of this turbulance wasn’t forecasted // apologies from the intercom // and i am relieved that i’d left my room tidy // they’ll think of me kindly when they come for my things

they’ll never know how i’d stared at the dark in that room // with no thoughts // like a blood-sniffing shark

i always wanted to die clean and pretty // but i’d be too busy on working days // so i am relieved that the turbulance wasn’t forecasted // i couldn’t have changed anyways

i know that i ended it, but // why won’t you chase after me? // you know me better than i do // so why didn’t you stop me?

and then shoko !! hhh for some reason i associate her a lot w penelope scott … i think ’moonsickness’ especially !! and and and … ’ribs’ by lorde :( i think of her when i listen to it n then i cry. ’cigarettes out the window’ by tv girl is another one !!

blood clots, death camps, glitz and depressions // the business cycle and the tides // you fuckers know it’s all built on lies // but the beast refuses to die // and so i guess, well, neither can i

this dream isn’t feeling sweet // we’re reeling through the midnight streets // and i’ve never felt more alone // it feels so scary, getting old

and finally !!!! gumi !!!! :D ok so sel i know we both agree when i say hes the neighbourhood coded. like pretty boy, cry baby, softcore etc etc hes just sooo… yeah.

but !! for some reason i also rly rly associate him w beabadoobee ….. maybe just cuz i think he would like her music. ’apple cider’ makes me think of him everytime i listen to it, im not sure why it just feels so gumi to me ?? esp college gumi !! ’care’ is another beabadoobee song that reminds me of him

and i don’t even like you that much // wait, i do, fuck

you said you liked my hair // so go ahead and touch it // you said you liked the jumper i wore // and so i always wore it

so call me at midnight // ask you if it’s alright // to have a sleepover // to drink some apple cider // or maybe some fruit punch // and we can talk about how we don’t like each other that much

and then theres another one i cant really explain bc its just vibe based pahshhdh BUT … ’cool with you’ by newjeans is so gumi to me .

THIS WAS SO FUN ty for the question sel !!!! makes me wanna make playlists for everyone hhhh ….. 🥺🥺 my blorbos of all time

[serenasoutherlyns]

from the dark with you above me chapter 10

“They’re so in love,” she said to Alex.

“I have never seen Serena this happy before,” Alex replied.

ao3

Alex Cabot always felt like coming home. To touch her, to merely be in her presence was joyful, comforting. It filled her with golden warmth, just to see her smile or hear her laugh. Since she met her, she’d known. And now, they were each other’s. It was a dream come true. Currently, Alex was sleeping beside her, her chest rising and falling as she calmly breathed, her shoulders bare and curving up where she lay on her side. Olivia couldn’t resist placing a little kiss on the warm skin before she swept off the sheets and rose from the bed.

“Mmph,” Alex protested. “Stay.” She couldn’t blame the woman’s insistence, she wanted nothing more than to stay too, snuggle up in the shared warmth, wait for the sun to at least illuminate the sky slightly. It was no fair that she had to leave at the crack of dawn.

“You know I have to go in early,” Olivia said sympathetically.

“Quit your job,” said Alex, “become a full time stay-in-bed-with-me.” It was tempting. She gave Alex another kiss and pulled on a sweatshirt and pair of pants from the drawer in Alex’s dresser where a few of her things now lived.

“I’ll see you tonight,” she said before she left. Alex made a sweet noise of acknowledgment and turned over, pulling a pillow over her head.

---

“Shh,” said Alex when Olivia returned to the apartment that evening. She was later than she wanted to be. She had thought about just going back to her place, but she had promised Alex. Alex gestured to the couch, where Abbie was asleep with her head in Serena’s lap, where Serena was asleep with her head against the back arm. She had a book on her chest and her blonde hair was wild. Abbie snored faintly. Olivia smiled at the sight. It was good to see the both of them so happy.

“They’ve been like this since I got home,” said Alex, pouring Olivia a glass of wine. “Out like a light, both of them. Must’ve been a long day.”

“I heard Kibre’s in one of her moods this week,” said Olivia.

I’ve heard all about it,” said Alex. She handed Olivia a cracker with a slice of fancy cheese on it. Alex was always feeding Olivia, something she hadn’t expected. But she couldn’t cook, so it was always simple hastily arranged snacks. It was uniquely Alex. “C’mon,” she said, gesturing to the bedroom, picking up a cutting board. “Dinner in bed.”

“Alex, cheese and crackers is not dinner,” Olivia said.

“You’re right,” she said. “But cheese and crackers and little pickles and grapes comes much closer.”

---

Halloween at Penelope’s was something else. It was dark in the club, the music shook the whole room, and the drinks were so strong Olivia wondered how they were keeping their alcohol license. She had never frequented the spot before Alex. She had little social life, there hadn’t been many bars in her life that weren’t cop bars.

“Your glasses,” said Alex, handing them to her. “You can’t see without your glasses, remember?”

“Mmm,” said Olivia. “Harder to kiss you with them on, though. And I don’t want to do much but kiss you.” Her Daphne looked great. Something about Alex in a red wig was really doing it for her. The tight purple dress hugging her body were helping, too. Olivia was ready to get out of there whenever she was.

“Save it for home,” said Abbie, coming over with some beers. The pleats of her leather skirt swung as she walked. Serena came up to them too, the Gabrielle to her Xena. She hugged Abbie from behind, resting her head on her shoulder.

“Let’s dance,” she said.

“I’m good,” said Alex.

“Same,” said Olivia.

“Please,” said Serena sweetly. She was a drink ahead of everyone and absolutely insistent. She convinced Abbie, who, Olivia had picked up, indulged Serena’s every whim where she could. She handed Olivia her beer and waved to the two of them. She watched them dance, looking into each other’s eyes with enamored smiles on their faces.

“They’re so in love,” she said to Alex.

“I have never seen Serena this happy before,” Alex replied. Abbie spun Serena under her arm and kissed her tenderly.

“Alex,” a short woman dressed as Mario said, another woman dressed as Princess Peach right behind her. “Good to see you,” she said, giving Alex a quick hug. “You must be Olivia.”

“Yes,” said Olivia. “You must be Lisa, and you must be Elle,” she indicated the woman. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

---

“Love you,” said Abbie, kissing Serena goodbye. “Bye Olivia, bye Alex.”

“Love you too,” returned Serena. Olivia and Alex turned to each other with open mouths.

“Oh my God,” squealed Alex when the door closed. “You two said I love you.” Of course, Olivia and Alex had said it three weeks into being together.

“Yeah,” said Serena with pure joy. “I love her.”

---

It was an uncharacteristically nice Saturday for mid-November, over 60. The bright sun warmed through her jean jacket. The park was buzzing with people enjoying the weather: nannies wrangling kids, elderly couples watching the crowds walk by, joggers in shorts passing each other. There were vendors by the dozen, coffees and hot dogs and even popsicles were all within reach. The air felt full of possibility. Olivia took Alex’s hand in hers, their fingers fitting perfectly together.

“Ooh,” Serena interrupted the group’s quiet conversation, “hot apple cider!” She pointed out an especially well-decorated cart covered in paper leaves and pumpkins, indeed advertising the drink. Abbie scrunched up her nose.

“Too sweet,” she said by way of explanation. Serena looked at her like she’d just kicked a puppy.

“How could you,” she said.

“It’s like drinking syrup, Serena.”

“No, it’s like drinking fall.”

“I’m with Abbie,” said Alex. “Apple cider is for children.”

“Then I’m a child,” said Serena. With that, she peeled off from the group. Olivia followed her.

“Ugh, I love this stuff,” said Serena when she took her first sip. “So good.”

“Agreed,” said Olivia, blowing on the drink through the hole in the top of the cup. As the turned to go rejoin Alex and Abbie, Olivia took in the two of them. They had clearly gotten themselves on quite a topic, talking animatedly with their hands.

“What have those two gotten into,” said Serena.

“I don’t know if I want to find out,” said Olivia. Abbie took off her black hat and smoothed her hair.

“Me neither,” said Serena, but Olivia could hear the adoration in her voice.

“Settle a debate, you two,” said Alex when they returned.

“Oh God,” said Olivia, not liking where this was going.

“They’re both going to agree with me, so I hope you’re ready to go down, Cabot,” said Abbie.

“I have the obviously right opinion, so I hope you are ready to go down, Carmichael.”

“What’s the issue at hand,” Serena said with more genuine curiosity than Olivia had the bandwidth for.

“Pumpkin pie, which is clearly the best pie, or apple pie, which is weirdly mushy and tastes like nothing?” said Alex.

“If you want to talk about mushy,” said Abbie, “look no further than pumpkin pie, it’s literally all mush and no texture.”

“It has a delightfully creamy, custardy texture.”

“Apple pie has the smoothness of the syrup surrounding the apples plus the slight toothsome crunch of the apples themselves, it is clearly the superior pie, texturally. And it actually has a flavor.”

“Pumpkin pie is the most quintessentially fall flavor there is, when was the last time you saw an apple pie scented candle?”

It was at this point that Abbie and Alex noticed that Serena and Olivia were doubled over in laughter.

“What?” said Abbie.

“I’ve got to stop hanging out with lawyers,” said Olivia.

“You two are worse outside of court than you are in it,” said Serena. “Also, the answer is clearly apple pie.”

“Traitor,” said Alex.

“I knew I loved you for a reason,” said Abbie.

“Not my sparkling personality and amazing body?”

“Those too,” said Abbie, and wrapped an arm around Serena’s waist, starting them back on their walk. “Give me a sip,” she said.

“Of my syrup?” said Serena, “absolutely not.” Abbie made a show of pouting, something Olivia never thought she’d see, and Serena gave in, handing her the cup. Alex took Olivia’s hand and squeezed, following close behind.

---

“Oh fuck,” Olivia heard for the tenth time that night. She and Alex were just trying to sleep, with busy days tomorrow, but evidently they were the outliers in the place.

“I’m going to tell them to be quiet,” Olivia said, a half-empty threat.

“I’m glad they’re having fun,” said Alex. Olivia, then, had a better idea.

“Or,” she said, dragging out the word, “we could give them a taste of their own medicine.” Then she touched her lips between Alex’s shoulder blades. She took in a breath sharply, and Olivia gave it another kiss, this one more insistent.

“We both have so much to do tomorrow,” Alex whispered, but she turned onto her other side and wrapped her arm around Olivia’s back, kissing her deeply.

“That’s tomorrow,” said Olivia, reaching her hand down to Alex’s waist and stroking up to her breast. Alex moaned.

“You’re right,” said Alex. Olivia took that as a cue to roll Alex onto her back and straddle her. Once her head was between Alex’s thighs, there was no question: they were winning this competition.

The next morning, on her way out, she ran into Mrs. Lopez from next door in the hallway, who gave her the dirtiest glare she had ever seen from someone who wasn’t a perp.

---

“How did your family end up taking it,” Olivia said, knowing that Abbie had been planning on telling them the day before. It was just the two of them in the apartment, Alex and Serena having gone to pick up dinner. They had been making it a priority to catch up on some much needed best friend time after a week of tough cases had kept all of them apart, leaving Olivia and Abbie to have girlfriends-of-best friends time, something Olivia was growing to love.

Abbie sighed.”Not great,” she said. “My sister said she doesn’t want me around my niece and nephew anymore. My mom scolded me for not going to church, ny dad had to schedule an emergency meeting with his campaign staff.”

“Jesus,” said Olivia. “That’s rough.”

“Yeah,” said Abbie, “It is. But you know what’s funny, I feel so much better now.”

“Good,” said Olivia, “that makes some sense. It feels good to be out in the open.”

Abbie beamed. “I’m ready to love Serena and let everyone know about it.” The door opened and Alex and Serena came in, the smell filling the chilly apartment.

---

“The party is here!” Lisa announced with her right hand in the air, her left hand holding the tray of sweet potatoes that was her responsibility. Elle followed behind with a large bowl containing mashed potatoes. The crowded apartment smelled amazing: the turkey had about half an hour left, Abbie had just pulled the green beans out of the oven. The cranberry sauce was already in its white china bowl. The pies (they had gone a bit overboard in the interest of peace: pumpkin, apple, and cherry) were sitting on the island. Olivia just needed to make the gravy.

“Hi darlings,” said Elle, greeting everyone with a kiss on the cheek: Olivia first, then Abbie, then Alex and Serena, who had been relegated to the couch and instructed not to step foot in the kitchen. Serena had been allowed to set up the table with her grandmother’s nice plates and forks, and Alex had been allowed to make the centerpiece and set the candles, but with those tasks done they were sitting with mugs of mulled wine.

Lisa insisted on watching the game, and Elle joined Olivia and Abbie in the kitchen, sitting on the windowsill and telling stories. Olivia had never liked thanksgiving, but if it could always be like this she saw herself growing to love it.

“Look out the window,” Alex said, turning her head to face the party in the other part of the room. Sure enough, it was beginning to snow.

“So what is everyone thankful for,” Elle said when they were all sat down to eat. The question was cliché, but somehow Olivia didn’t mind.

“I’m thankful for this food,” said Lisa, digging into her potatoes. “And you, my love.” Elle blushed.

“I’m thankful for all of this,” said Olivia. “for the meal, for love, for friends. All of it.”

“Here’s to that,” said Serena, raising her glass. Olivia looked over the table full of abundance, surrounded by people she loved. Yes, she was very thankful.

[caissymax]

Yeehawgust Day 19: Dead of Night

The world around Aria is freezing. Frigid.

Her teeth are chattering and she’s shivering so hard that it feels like she might shake to pieces any minute now. Lucky that she hasn’t already.

Heh, fucking lucky, yeah, that’s her alright.

The wind blows harder and it goes right through her meager layers. Aria’s pretty sure that she’s never been so cold, not even the Winter when Penelope had been too paranoid to settle down anywhere and they all had spent it on the move and living out of the wagon. Or during the uprising when all that stood between them and the elements were thin tents if even that.

Her pants are soaked. She’s got her arms wrapped around her middle, trying to keep as much of her remaining heat in as she can while trudging through what’s got to be at least a foot or more of snow.

Aria is…

She’s trying to find something.

Or- or someone?

Her fingers brush the bare skin of her side, like ice, and she jumps. Her head snaps down and she’s shocked to the bottom half of her shirt missing, exposing her midriff-

Cara.

Aria is looking for Cara.

Why is she looking for Cara? It’s not like she’s even seen Cara since-

There’s a light up ahead, just barely visible through the blowing snow.

Shimmering, iridescent almost, out of place enough to be noticeable through the flurries-

-and then it’s right in front of her. Except that ‘it’ is just Penelope. Smiling softly, eyes creased. Happy like she hasn’t been since- since-

Aria can see the next stretch of snow drifts through Penelope’s abdomen but she’s got bigger problems.

Penelope’s voice is so soft that Aria almost can’t hear it over the sound of her own chattering teeth. “Neither of them are home, Aria!” She sounds worried.

Aria keeps pushing on despite the way her heart drops. She can’t stop now. She doesn’t have anywhere else to go-

“Doesn’t matter.” Aria’s mouth moves without her thinking about it. She glances down at the compass she cradles so carefully in her scraped palms. She’s sure that the metal must be freezing by now but she can’t tell for sure when her hands are just the same. Aria lets out a breath when she sees that the needle is still pointing back the way she came. “I just- just need to get there. That prick wouldn’t dare to follow-”

“Aria!” She stumbles and her eyes blow wide. She whips her head around and begins to shake from more than just the cold when she spots a splash of bright blue and gleaming silver. “Why don’t you come back, I thought we were having a great time! What happened to being friends?”

Aria doesn’t wait.

She turns and she runs-

Aria wakes up in a cold sweat.

She can’t catch her breath. She’s heaving for air and her heart is trying to beat its way out of her chest.

The dream slips further and further away from her the more awake she becomes. The lingering fear slowly loses its hold on her mind but - even as she wrestles with her borrowed blankets, tries to toss them off, and ends up falling out of bed and face first onto the floor for her trouble - she’s freezing.

Aria sort of wishes that it had been Rhiannon’s fuckin’ cellar again instead of- instead of whatever that was. 

Missus, but she hates the cold.

She drags herself up and off the floor and heads for the door, post haste. Nearly trips over another pile of blankets that had taken the place of the coffee table. Tries and fails to put on her shoes and jacket at the same time. The house is feeling more cramped than ever, more cramped than even the wagon on its worst days or at its most packed. Counting the time when there were about six of them crammed in it during the uprising.

It left her with an itch to move and, unlike the uprising, Aria’s able to get out and do so without being worried about being ambushed. Not like anyone but her, Penelope, Storm, and Cres knew where this place was, after all, nor that Aria and Penelope were even hiding here.

She viciously shakes the thought of Cres from her head before it can try and take root. Aria’s got enough on her own plate, she can’t worry too much about Cres. She has to trust that he won’t get himself killed without her.

Aria finally manages to wrestle her jacket the rest of the way on and she promptly shoves her way out the door. She clambers down the steps of the porch and knows she’s being way too loud for the hour but, fuck, it’s not like any of them are sleepin’ anyway, who’re they even trying to fool by tucking themselves away at appropriate times each night.

Well, Aria and Storm at least. Penelope’s not been tryin’ to fool anyone considerin’ the way she’s been staying out later and later every day, barely sleeping seemingly at all.

Aria sniffs, rubbing a hand under her nose, and glances around. Checks her surroundings for anything out of the ordinary even though she’s sure that there’s not many things that could get through Storm’s fences or her vicious wards. Better safe than sorry though.

When she’s sure the coast is clear - and no one’s come running out of the house after her - Aria kicks a rock she can just make out thanks to the moon’s faint light and considers her options. She glances towards the path to the gate at the front of the property and seriously considers wandering out into the wilderness, see what happens, but she’s not really in the mood to fight for her life and she’s got a feeling a lecture would be waiting for her when she returns. She sighs. Exploring beyond the fenceline is better left for the day.

Instead, she turns the opposite way, around the back of the house, cutting under the clotheslines and prowling along the fence there. Aria supposes that she can just wander until she manages to put her head on straight.

It’s a little chilly out tonight - the hazards of the desert and a consequence of being so close to the Arctic - but not so bad that she needs more than just her jacket to fight off the cold. She crosses her arms over her chest and subtly presses her fingers against her inner elbow, it helps to separate the dream from reality when her hands aren’t any colder than the rest of her.

Aria frowns as she stalks around the property, pulling on the leaves and branches of the trees she passes, leaving a trail of shredded leaves behind her.

She pauses abruptly when she spots a warm, yellow light within the small stretch of trees that the fence separates from the rest of its copse. Her brows furrow and it’s not exactly the same but it’s close enough to the dream it unnerves her more than a bit.

But- but she’s not some bitch afraid of a little fuckin’ light so she shakes herself and forces herself to keep walking, right towards the light.

She discovers the lights to be hanging lanterns soon enough, a trail of soft light that leads deeper into the grove. After she passes a few more lanterns on what’s little more than a thin game trail, the trees abruptly open up into a clearing and she takes a step into it without a thought-

-until a sudden weight on her limbs and a bone deep exhaustion begins to weigh on her and she freezes up on instinct. That’s the bite of a ward’s warning, she knows. And she also knows that if she keeps going despite the warning that it could get much, much worse for her.

Aria lets her head loll down towards her chest to glare at the ground.

Her scowl only grows fiercer when she hears a huff of laughter.

She spots bright red before anything else and groans. “Aw, what the fuck are you doin’ out here?” she grumbles, slowly shuffling her feet backwards as Storm watches her with obvious amusement. She falls on her ass when she finally gets loose from the ward’s effects and she takes a couple of deep breaths as her body slowly returns to normal.

“...farmin’.” Storm says after a long moment.

And, sure, Aria can see the strange collection of plants that surrounds Storm now that she knows what she’s looking for, but that doesn’t stop her from sputtering out, “In the middle of the fuckin’ night?”

“Uh, yeah.” Storm huffs, looking away from Aria and back towards where her hands are still mostly buried in the dirt. Storm carefully clips at a bundle of roots and drops a few cuttings into the bag sitting by her knees and doesn’t say anything more.

But that’s fine because if there’s one thing that Aria is good at, it’s talking, and her mind is absolutely racing with the new discovery. “Why?” she demands.

Storm raises a brow though she doesn’t look up. “Why’m I farmin’ or why the middle of the night?” Storm asks, shifting her focus to a new plant now. Aria tries not to be too irritated by clearly not being as interesting as Storm’s dumb plants. Not like she could do anything about that while unable, and unwilling, to step foot within the farm’s established boundary.

But Aria’s also familiar with having to use her words alone to get what she wants. It was sort of the founding principle of the uprising after all. “What, is both not an option? Can’t answer two questions at the same time?” Aria goads. She’s not actually looking to make Storm angry but… maybe if he can irritate her enough they can spar again! Aria can burn off some of the energy still buzzing beneath her skin.

Storm flicks her eyes up, shoving a stray chunk of red hair behind her ear as crimson eyes narrow on Aria. Aria, very carefully, does not flinch beneath her scrutiny. “Little late to be so worked up, huh?” Storm throws back, a bit more life to her voice now.

Aria bares her teeth, smacks her hand into the ground and digs her fingers into the dirt. “No!” she snarls. “And you’re still not answerin’ the fuckin’ question!”

Storm stares at her a moment longer before blowing out a breath and sitting on her heels, eyes turning up to the canopy overhead. Aria’s jaw only ticks tighter the longer Storm doesn’t speak, until she’s grinding her teeth together hard enough she’s surprised she hasn’t cracked a tooth.

Finally, Storm drops her gaze to her bag, peeling off surprisingly plain gardening gloves and tossing them in before snapping the bag shut. “Hard to sleep with other people in the house,” she murmurs, standing and shrugging the bag onto her shoulder, “‘s too loud and all those well honed survival instincts keep yellin’ about threats. So,” she waves a hand towards the strange garden, “I’m doin’ somethin’ productive, Aria.”

Aria instantly deflates as she watches Storm stroll over to her. She pulls her knees up to her chest and rubs her hands over her face. Her angry bleeds out of her.

A hand comes to rest gently on her head and Aria startles. Aria peers up at Storm through her fingers and exhaustion.

Storm stares right back at her, eyebrow raised, expectant and yet somehow not. Aria know that she doesn’t have to but it only feels fair for her to mumble, “I think I had a- a nightmare?”

“Think?” Storm murmurs, amused in a gentle sort of way.

“Well,” she tears at some nearby grass, “it was mostly just cold and shit but-” she hesitates, chews on her lip. “-but I was freezing. I was- was lost. There was someone chasin’ me-”

Aria cuts off, breath hitching and fists clenching as she struggles to shove all of that right back down where it came from.

Storm crouches down, grabs her under the arms and hauls her up onto her feet, seemingly effortless. She doesn’t let go either until Aria’s feet are firmly back under her. “Guess we’re both dealin’ with demons tonight.” Dramatic bastard. Even if she’s not wrong. Aria gives a slight nod of her chin. “Think I might have somethin’ we can both use to get our mind off ‘em.” And she turns on her heel and sweeps off. Even dressed down into a plain white shirt and dark pants, none of her jewellry or typical adornments, Storm has an air of self importance about her. She’s the most dangerous thing for miles and she knows it.

Aria’s definitely not jealous.

She stumbles over a root as she hurries to follow.

Well, not that jealous.

[boldlyvoid]

Spencer and fem!reader have been together for a decade, married for five. They got married right after the Justin Mills episode, she proposed cause she almost lost him. He proposed to her once he got out and she had no idea he was going to. Anyway I got off on a tangent sorry I have ADHD. But anyway so part of Spencer was scared she’d leave him while he was in prison, which of course she never would. Not only because they have a three year old daughter. She of course doesn’t, and they’re both there to greet him when he’s released eighty-four days later. She’d been using porn to pleasure herself while he was gone, but it wasn’t nearly the same. He’s been so pent up that he jumps her the second they get back to his apartment. Needless to say, she wasn’t expecting him to be even more dominant when he got out of prison than he had started to be when he went in.

so i changed it up a bit, she hasn't had an orgasm since he left. she's so touch starved becasue she cant even hold his hand at visiting hours and they both can't help but fuck the second she tell's him they're bringing him home.

word count: 1.4K

cw: unprotected sex, dirty talk, daddy kink, dom!spencer, wall fucking, public sex, creampies, talk of pregnancy, touch starved reader and spencer, canon typical violence, references to PTSD, (I hope I got it all)

She’s anxiously tapping her foot, she’s been awake for 48 hours now, she hasn’t seen her daughter in just as long, and her husband even longer.

84 days to be exact.

She feels like she’s going to explode, she misses him so intensely and if he doesn’t come home now, she might never see him again. His mother is missing, he stabbed himself to stay safe in prison, he might not come home. again.

In the 10 years that she’s been with Spencer, he’s almost died 3 times. she thought that was the extent of her worry for her husband's safety... then he went missing, then he was arrested in Mexico and now he’s in prison fighting for his life.

She has her head in her hands, curled into a ball on the briefing room sofa, trying desperately to get her mind to stop saying he’s dead, they’re going to kill him, you’re too late. Over and over and over, the thoughts are so intense she almost doesn’t hear Emily call in and tell them to go get him.

It’s time to bring him home.

She stands faster than before. Faster than when they found the cemetery. Faster than when he almost coded in the ambulance from the anthrax he was exposed to. The only time it rivals is when the doctors came out and said they stopped the bleeding, 2 weeks before they eloped, 9 weeks into a pregnancy they were trying to hide from the team.

She always finds herself rushing to his side, fearing the worst but never has she been this close to the edge. She’s on the plane with JJ, Luke and Penelope faster than she’s ever moved before. Leg still bouncing as she sits, trying her best to stay awake, but her adrenaline is making her dizzy.

“Y/N,” JJ whispers from across the table, “he’s okay.”

“I know,” she whispers back. “That’s not why I’m nervous.”

“Why are you?”

She turns and sees Penelope and Luke arguing in the back, flirting way too much to eavesdrop, she takes a deep breath.

“I haven’t touched him in 3 months,” she whispers. “You guys may not think he’s a touchy person, but I haven’t slept. I don’t know how to sleep without him beside me. I haven’t had a real hug in forever…” a tear falls down her cheek.

She shakes her head, it’s been so unbelievably hard to be separated from him and she’s kept her composure this long. “I haven’t even been able to touch myself.”

She’s ashamed but JJ doesn’t budge, she simply tilts her head to the side in sympathy, “oh honey, he might be really distant, you have to prepare for him to continue to not touch you, or he might not leave your side and drive your crazy. I’m not sure how he’ll react but I know it’s not going to be easy.”

She nods, releasing a shaky breath and pretending that it’s not making her more anxious, “I know.” She finally breaks, sobbing and hiding her face behind her hands. “I’m sorry.”

JJ gets up and moves around the table, rubbing her hand over her back and shushing her, “you can tell him. You can go in and have a few minutes alone with him, Penelope and I will wait in the hallway.”

“I just want a hug,” she whispers, “I’m not going to fuck my husband in a prison.”

“Bundy did it,” Luke replies from the back of the plane because of course, they were listening in. “Plus, I don’t think he’s going to be comfortable enough to do that yet, I think his mind is on saving his mother.”

“Exactly,” Y/N rationalizes it, even if all she can picture is him bending her over that table that she wasn’t allowed to cross.

Sometimes the prison was so intimidating for her that she felt like she wasn’t even allowed to look at him. It was easier for her to send letters, they corresponded regularly. She knew everything, on a level the team didn’t, she knew just how hurt he was in there and she was already preparing for his recovery.

She has a binder in her purse, it has every resource he’ll ever need. Random information pamphlets for him to read on the way home and his sponsor's number. She got it from the VA, taking a special trip with Luke to ask the men there what they wish they had when they came home from Afghanistan, how they coped with PTSD and what they wish their partners knew beforehand. She’s as prepared as she could be.

But nothing prepares her for the look on his face when she opens the door. The guard steps aside and JJ closes the door as soon as Y/N is safely inside the room with him, she just cries.

“Is my mom okay?” He panic, “who’s watching Elly?”

“Spence,” she walks up to him, “we’re taking you home.”

“What?” His face drops, he turns as white as a ghost like he’s hallucinating and doesn’t believe what he hears.

She simply nods and throws her arms around him, holding him tighter than ever before, he holds her just as tight. She can’t breathe, he’s holding her too tight and then he’s picking her up and sitting her on the table, kissing her neck and down her shirt and she can’t help herself from leaning back and attempting to unbutton his jeans.

He pushes her skirt up and pulls her panties to the side, roughly kissing her as she stokes him a few times before wrapping her legs around him and bringing him inside. His beard is longer than it’s ever been, scratching at her skin as he explores her, she can’t believe they’re actually doing this but it feels too good for her to even say a single word.

“God, I’ve missed your sweet cunt,” he grunts in her ear, picking her up and turning them. He presses her against the brick wall, holding her with a strength he’s never had before, and fucking into her with intent.

“I haven’t cum in 90 days,” she says between pants, wanting him to praise her.

“So that’s why you’re such a desperate slut? I’ve made you into a whore over the last 10 years, haven’t I?”

“Yes sir,” she replies on instinct, they’ve tried having him be more dominating but it never really worked out in their favour… this however, this is more than that.

This is primal.

He bites her shoulder, over her shirt and making the fabric wet, grunting as he fucks her, he’s like an animal. It’s incredibly hot, she’s so deprived she almost cums but she holds off, “please?” She begs, wanting his permission for the first time in months.

“Please what?”

“Please can I cum?” she cries, actually tears fall down her cheeks from the frustration, months of anticipation bursting at the seams, “please, daddy?”

“Ugh,” he lays his forehead on her shoulder and fucks into her harder, rubbing her clit with his thumb. “Cum baby, come on daddy’s cock, you depraved little whore.”

She tosses her head back against the wall, it’s going to hurt later but her orgasm is so intense she barely even feels real. She’s floating there as she grips his shoulders and her legs hold him close to her. He stills as he cums, filling her up, they both sigh at the same time.

Sliding to the floor, she’s still wrapped around him, cock inside her as they hold each other. Faces buried in the other's neck, they try to come down but all they can do is run their hands over each other's bodies, appreciating the fact they’re allowed to hold one another in this stupid room again, no one is going to yell at her for holding his hand or passing him a bracelet from their kid.

They hear a knock on the window and that’s their queue to get presentable again. She feels a little gross, but this is the closest she’s felt to him in forever. Carrying a part of him inside of her was her favourite thing in the world, all she could hope for was another little one to be the glorious result of this terrible situation.

[whump-town]

The Traveling T-Shirt

No Pairings

No Warnings

It's just Morgan's t-shirt traveling through the BAU one person and story at a time

It starts with a coffee spill in Seattle. With Aaron, startlingly enough.

Six days in the rain and it seemed even their cleanest, driest clothing was damp with the chill from the constant downpour. Though, six days on their feet with clothing they’d already worn at least twice that week on their backs, they looked more and more “rag-tag” as the hours bore on. Even Hotch had lost his cookie-cutter charm. His white t-shirt crumpled where it was typically pressed to perfection, not a wrinkle in sight. His hair wouldn’t stay gelled into the style he liked it in, leaving it fluffy and soft on the top of his head. He looked significantly less like SSA Aaron Hotchner and a lot more like Aaron.

Maybe he had lost SSA Hotchner somewhere along the days and victims because SSA Hotchner would never spill coffee on himself. But Aaron would and Aaron did.

Derek watched the whole thing take place, unable to take his eyes off of Hotch since the second that he walked in. Something about his tired zombie-like lurches just couldn’t break Derek’s curiosity and he had to know what would come out of Hotch’s current state. Despite the far-away look in Hotch’s gaze, the tired bags of discoloration under his eyes, Derek would not have predicted this as the outcome. Hotch is so out of it that all he can do is stare at the mess he’s created, glaring at the mess of coffee grounds across his less than pristine white dress shirt.

“Here,” Derek shakes his head, has to manually clear the fog occupying his brain. He pulls at the loose clump of napkins someone had left atop the coffee table for this exact situation, presses the mass into Hotch’s stomach. It feels akin to something else, distinctly deja-vu. Like he’s pressing into a wound, holding him together with nothing more than cheap napkins.

The physical contact brings Hotch back to the Earth and with a few blinks of his blood-shot eyes he sighs irritably and mumbles, “I don’t have any more clean shirts.”

Derek would argue the one he’s currently wearing is not clean either. It’s got a few dots of red expo marker on the left elbow where Reid bumped into him, rambling quickly about his map and the geographical profile. On the cuff of his right sleeve, there’s something brown or black which could be something from a pen or an expo marker or something else he’s just stuck his hand in. God knows what else is on this shirt.

Hotch puts his hand over Derek’s, holds the napkins himself. Derek pats his shoulder, “it’s alright, man. I’ll get you a shirt.”

They could go just about anywhere and just buy him a shirt. It could be some looney graphic t-shirt from the boy’s sections of some store down the street or another white dress shirt to replace the one he’s wearing but Derek just gets one of his. It’s a light grey, the color worn down by how frequently Derek wears it. Where it fits Derek snugly, hugs his chest and back tightly, it fits Hotch oddly. Displays to them all just how right they were in the assumptions they have held about how his recent divorce is affecting him.

He’s lost weight.

Too much.

One thin grey Hanes t-shirt can’t fight off the chill and overtop it, covering his visible bones, Dave throws him a sweater. He stays buried in that sweater and shirt all day, long into the night as they go hunting out in the streets with flashlights. Rain comes down heavy and thick.

Dave gets his sweater back. Folded neatly and smelling of the distinct fabric softener Hotch uses, it makes his whole office smell nice and Dave nearly can’t bring himself to wear the thing again. Doesn’t want the scent to fade, every inch of that sweater is now stitched together with something more.

The t-shirt gets left at the bottom of a drawer, to be discovered months from now.

Emily finds it six nights after Foyet left Hotch in Saint Sebastion’s hospital held together by sugrical staples and the stubborn will to live. All of his clothing has been hunted through, his shirt drawer is nearly empty. JJ and Penelope had undertaken the job of finding Hotch clothing for the hospital -- anything that he could just slip his arms into without having to lift them above his head. The only things left in his drawers are regular t-shirts and jeans, meaning Emily doesn’t have a whole lot to pick through right now.

She hadn’t anticipated this need and as much forethought as she put into staying the night was assuming Hotch would have clothes she could steal. She hadn’t really thought she’d be here tonight but she doesn’t think she can leave him alone. Doesn’t think it would be kind of her as his friend to see him like this and still choose to leave him for the night.

She decides on a thin grey shirt that she finds, turning her nose up to his university t-shirts (as if she’d wear those) and a pair of sweat pants on his floor that she thinks are clean or at least don’t smell bad. It’s not the best but she came unprepared and she’s not going to complain, both are comfortable even if the pants are giant on her.

To her surprise, he’s still fighting off his meds. Hazy brown eyes blink open when she steps back out into the living room, following her as she comes to the couch. She’s careful, even if she does it nonchalantly, as she moves his legs a little so that she can sit down beside him. He’s stretched across the couch, too big so he’s pinched up in places, but he doesn’t want to sleep in his room. Stubborn like a child being asked to take a nap -- “but I’m not tired”.

“T’as not my shirt,” he mumbles into his blanket. He’s got the heating blanket pulled up his nose, wrapped tightly around his shoulders and hands.

Emily looks down at it and frowns. “Well, then who the hell else’s is it?” She reaches for the TV remote on the coffee table, turning it on without waiting for his answer. Clearly, she doesn’t care who’s it is, she’s not taking it off now. His grunt, muffled by the blanket, means he doesn’t know and he doesn’t really care enough either to figure out who it is.

He doesn’t last much longer, falls asleep with her squishing him on the couch (though, arguably, he’s squishing her). She’ll brush off his timid embarrassment at having to need her around the next morning, for waking up in the middle of the night having to be held down. Sobbing incoherently about something, neither of them really sure what. Only calming down when she put his head in her lap, stroking his hair back until he fell back asleep. Which is how he wakes up, his head in her lap and his hand holding her’s hostage.

But she shrugs it off and says she only did it for the free shirt, “don’t worry about it.”

She keeps the shirt, uses it several more nights as they graduate from sleeping on the couch to him finally going back to his bed. To being mentally present enough again to fight her about taking meds, to walking her to the front door every night, and watching her leave.

She buries the shirt too. It feels too tight on her skin, wrong. She touches the material and remembers seeing him hysterical, writhing in pain, and unable to be comforted. Can smell the antiseptic from his skin. Can hear the doctor warning her about his heart. That shirt feels like losing her best friend but she can’t bring herself to get rid of it.

JJ uncovers it a year later (before Emily has done the unspeakable, the unimaginable, and died and come back to life). It’s a girls night gone wrong but not impossibly so.

“Just grab one of my shirts,” Emily says, still laughing.

JJ glares back at her. She’s covered in water from the sink -- Emily sprayed her with the faucet. It’s revenge, payback for the pasta sauce JJ swiped down her cheek.

“You two are devious,” Penelope insists, waving her fingers at them. She’s still chopping up mushrooms, trying to size them as best as she can so that they are spread evenly throughout the alfredo sauce. “Behave before you ruin the sauce and I have to tell Dave that I not only shared his recipe but that you two ruined it.”

JJ has to search for a shirt from Emily’s pajama drawer. She doesn’t want any of the old college shirts and certainly doesn’t want any of the dopey graphic t-shirts Emily is so partial to. She ends up on a grey shirt, worn and old and soft.

Emily knows the shirt the second the JJ comes out and it takes her a moment to hide and stifle the anxiety that its presence gives her. Hotch’s health is better, he’s got a routine down with the medication he’ll be taking for the rest of his life because of that attack, but he’s smiling again. It’s harder than it was before to win one out of him but he can do it, they happen.

“Which one-night stand is this?” JJ asks, plucking the shirt with her fingers and raising an eyebrow.

Emily shakes her head, clears her throat of the residual guilt, and smirks, “trust me, you don’t want to know.” Hotch would be mortified at the insinuation but it’s funny and what he doesn’t know (and what they don’t know) can’t hurt him. She’s sad to see the shirt go, it’s a door closed, but relieved of its burden she can breathe again. Feels Foyet leave her completely.

JJ goes unburdened.

That old shirt is a comfort. She nurses Henry through fevers in it. Uses its edge to wipe his tears from his face. It’s always at the top of her laundry basket, the first thing she puts on when she gets home from a rough case. Will isn’t sure where she got it from because he knows it’s not his. It’s not the first time JJ’s stolen someone else’s clothes (he’s picked up enough of them to know that Reid wears a size small, that dark shirts sized medium are Morgan, and that white t-shirts in a medium are Hotch’s). He thinks it’s cute, she’s been stealing his shirts for as long as he’s known her.

In October, the fall of the same year that Emily leaves for Interpol, JJ gets held up in a meeting with Hotch. Something to do the with Department of Justice and all she manages to get out over the phone is that she’s absolutely pissed and Reid can just faintly hear Hotch offering her a coffee before she thanks him and the line goes dead. Will is on night shift and he can’t come home. So Reid fills in, their impromptu babysitter for the night.

It’s fine, calm… for the most part.

Reid lasts about an hour and a half before he finds himself in need of a change of clothes. He’s got pumpkin all over him and his fun little idea to let Henry carve a baby pumpkin was obviously a bad idea. He just didn’t know that in advance. He’s watched Jack enough times to feel fully confident in his skills but the age gap between Henry and Jack is severe. There are a lot of developmental differences in children only two years apart in age, Reid was not prepared for that.

He feels weird about stealing a shirt but his own is soaked in pumpkin guts and Henry’s bathwater.

JJ doesn’t notice the shirt exchange. She just grins at the sight of Spencer and Henry curled up on the couch, Will sitting beside them eating popcorn while “It’s The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown” plays softly.

Three days later Morgan sees his shirt on the back of the couch. It’s been washed and is waiting to be returned to JJ but he knows damn well that it’s his. “How the hell did you find this?” Morgan asks, lifting it up. Reid had called him over to fix a leaking pipe (Reid is supposed to call his Super who has a mechanic who can do it but he’s too anxious for that) and Morgan was less than prepared to find his missing shirt.

Reid frowns, confused, “that’s JJ’s. I borrowed it Thursday night when I babysat.”

Morgan shakes his head, no this is his shirt. He’s sure of it. It’s been gone for years. He thought the washing machine ate it. He couldn't remember where else it would have gone off to. That or he left it in some hotel but here it is. Grey and worn and soft, it’s his.

He takes it to work in his go-bag and all but rolls his eyes into the back of his head when he watches Garcia stumble and drench herself in cold, left-over tea. He stands from his desk, sighing hard, “it’s alright, baby girl. I’ve got a shirt you can borrow.”

He’s never getting this shirt back.

[cloudlessly-light]

hello!!! i have a request for my fav hotchniss writer EVER.

hotch fingering emily under the table at a dinner with the team?

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Smut, fingering, in public

Aaron looks over at his girlfriend as she laughs beside him, the sound beautiful and infectious and he can’t help himself as he pulls her chair closer to his and slides his hand over her bare knee and squeezes while they’re all out to dinner. Emily doesn’t seem to think anything off it, only puts her hand over his on her lap and squeezes with a smile still on her face.

“You okay?” She asks quietly enough for the rest of the team not to pay them any attention.

“Yes. You just look too good tonight.” He mumbles against her neck before kissing her cheek.

“Hey love birds, you mind waiting until you’re home for that?” Derek gets their attention from across the table, a grin on his face.

“Leave them alone.” Penelope hits his shoulder then looks to the couple in front of her. “I like this side of you.”

“Exactly.” JJ agrees as and raises her glass of white wine in a toast.

Emily kisses him with a laugh, lingers against his lips longer than necessary just to bug Derek but when she pulls back, Aaron’s eyes are darker, the look on his face familiar and she feels herself flush. She knows that look, that’s the look that lets her know that he will spend the night buried between her legs and she squirms slightly in her seat. What she doesn’t count on however, is his warm hand on her knee moving up higher on her thigh.

She sends him a warning look and is met by nothing but determination as he squeezes the inside of her thigh, his calloused fingers tickling the sensitive skin.

He doesn’t really know what makes him do it, doesn’t know why he can’t seem to stop when she presses her legs together and traps his hand between them. All he can think about is seeing that look of bliss on her face, his mind hazy with images of her.

“How’s your training going Aaron?” Dave asks and moving his attention from his girlfriend to his friend.

“Good, good.” He feels Emily relaxing and moves his hand higher without looking at her, feels her silk underwear against his fingers and then how her legs widen. “But honestly I’m kind of looking forward to the marathon to be over by now.”

“Only another couple of weeks right?” JJ asks just as he pushes the material of Emily’s panties aside and slides his finger through wet folds. He can see how she tries to relax her face, to look interested in the conversation around her but her eyelids are already drooping, her jaw clenching and unclenching as he starts to rub her clit.

“Yes, and the week before the race you’re not supposed to train so it’ll go by fast.” He presses one finger inside of her and Emily sucks in a breath quietly. He curls his finger and then presses a second inside of her and she wants to scream.

“Are you going to train with him Em?” Penelope’s voice makes her eyes snap to the blonde, she knows that all eyes are on her and she tenses.

“Hell no.” She huffs and they laugh “I’m good with the treadmill.” She feels him pressing his fingers harder against her, presses against that spot that always makes her eyes roll back repeatedly and she feels herself starting to sweat.

The conversation continues and she thanks her lucky stars that no one continued to talk to her, she could feel Aaron’s dark eyes on her, knew that he was enjoying watching her struggle as she tried to control her body.

He saw the flush on her chest, could feel the way her thighs trembled and her center clench around his digits. For a moment he considered stopping, knowing that this was beyond stupid but he wanted to see her fall apart, wanted her to give in to him. She was biting her bottom lip, her head down and hair falling over her face as she grinded carefully against his hand, seeking more friction.

“You okay Prentiss?” Derek looked at his friend, her face tense and a flush on her cheeks as she kept her head down.

“I’m good.” She tried to control the shake in her voice, offered a smile just as Aaron pressed the palm of his hand against her clit “Really, really good.” Her hands gripped her chair, the food in front of her long forgotten as she felt her orgasm build.

“You don’t look too good; you live close to here maybe you should call it a night?” Spencer asked, the entire team now focused on Emily.

“She does live close to here,” Aaron smirked and stopped moving his fingers, only pressed his palm against her clit. “don’t you honey?”

“So close.” She breathed out, her eyes meeting his and she wanted to punch him for starting this, wanted to punch him even more for stopping. “But I’m alright, really just tired.” She took a sip of her wine and leaned her body against Aaron, ignored the looks sent her way before turning to JJ. “How’s Henry”?

As JJ started to talk and the focus was once again turned from she hid her face in his neck.

“You finish this right now or we are leaving.” She whispered against his ear.

“You wanna come in front of them?” He curled his fingers again and Emily’s hand flew to his thigh and squeezed hard enough to bruise.

“I don’t care, please.” She kept her face against him, hoped that to anybody else it just looked like they had a couple moment, as he moved his fingers harder inside of her. It didn’t take more than another couple of minutes before her body was tensing beside him. She bit her lip hard enough to break skin as she forced her body to stay still as the pleasure washed over her in waves. He kept moving his hand, his eyes fastened on her as she came all over his hand but her face almost neutral, the only indication of her pleasure the slight heaving of her chest as she tried to catch her breath.

When she relaxed beside him, he realized that she had managed to come without alerting any of their colleagues, their focus on JJ showing them a video of Henry, all of them with smiles on their faces. With a smile he removed his hand from her, wiped her wetness on her thigh and she sighed as she leaned against his side.

“Don’t think I won’t remember this.” She warned lowly before turning back to her food.

[sierraraeck]

The Better Kisser

BAU x Bi!Fem!Reader

Emily x Bi!Fem!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: After finding out that you haven’t had very many kissing experiences, the team realizes you’re the perfect candidate to judge who the best kisser on the team is.

Category: Fluff

Warnings: As you may have guessed, lots of kissing.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: Just a little something that popped into my head that I just needed to write. This is technically an AU where the members of the team are Hotch, Rossi, Spencer, Penelope, Derek, Emily, JJ, Luke, and Tara. Everyone is single.

It was true. You hadn’t kissed very many people. You decided long ago that it wasn’t really in the cards for you, dating and kissing and relationships, that is, so yeah. You weren’t what one would call an ‘experienced kisser.’ Your friends had teased you for it, but you’d always shrugged it off. It wasn’t something to be ashamed of.

You’d never thought it’d be something to be grateful for either, until tonight.

It’d been a long, hard case, and everyone was dying to get out of the stupid office, and away from those stupid files, so that you could all finally relax, maybe even have some fun. You’d only been with the team for about three months, and it was like an entire whirlwind throwing you this way and that. You also hadn’t gotten to know the team too well either, considering how busy you all constantly were. Your first week on the job, they went out for drinks after a case, but you were so exhausted that you left after the first round.

There hadn’t been time, or energy, since then for the team to spend quality, relaxed time together. That’s why tonight was extra exciting.

“You’re telling me that throughout all of highschool, all of college, you haven’t kissed more than two people?” Derek asked incredulously. You couldn’t fully remember how you’d all gotten onto the subject, except that you had. You were sitting on Garcia’s squishy couch, littered with colorful pillows and all sorts of stuffed animals. Garcia had decided that instead of going out to a bar, you were all going to go over to her place, minus Hotch and Rossi who tapped out early.

You shrugged. “Nope. I had one boyfriend and one drunk kiss, both of which were bad experiences for me. I’ve kind of avoided all of that since then.” You explained, “Plus, when would I have time for that? Between my college studies and getting into the FBI, then BAU, I didn’t really have free time.”

“I mean, sure, I guess,” Derek continued, “but come one. There had to be guys falling at your feet!”

You laughed. “Not all of us have that kind of draw, Derek.” He nudged you, and you nudged him back with a wink.

He was right, though. You were stunning. Even when you just put your hair up and wore sweatpants, there was just something about you. You would probably look good in a trash bag. But men were not just falling at your feet. Even if they were, you wouldn’t notice, putting all of your energy into chasing your dreams instead. You thought that was a very reasonable, and responsible, thing of you to do.

Plus, you’d done the whole boyfriend thing, and weren’t really interested in trying it again. Well, not as interested as you were in trying the whole girlfriend thing. And your first day on the job, a certain badass brunette caught your eye, and was even the first one to make you really feel like part of the team. You were finding it harder and harder to resist her pull.

“Yeah Derek,” JJ chimed in, drawing your attention back to the conversation, “Not all of us can rack up eight phone numbers and five make out sessions in one night.”

“What can I say?” Derek beamed, pride shining in his eyes. “I’m a great kisser.” Emily snorted. When Derek glared at her, she pressed her lips together and looked down. “What?”

“Nothing,” Emily sang, shaking her head with an air of mischief.

“No seriously, what?”

“It’s just that if you read girls half as well as you claim to, you might wonder if that’s always the case.” Derek’s jaw hung open, and Emily smirked at him with unabashed confidence. You stared at her and her piercing eyes, and you couldn’t help but admire how sexy she was when she was confident, smug even.

“Wow, you’re gonna go there?” Derek asked, feigning hurt disbelief, “And how would you know that?”

Again, Emily shrugged and nonchalantly stated, “Because I know how women act when they kiss me. And trust me. They’re actually enjoying themselves.”

Some ‘ooh’s radiated throughout the room, and based on the look Penelope had plastered to her face, things were about to get good.

You watched in amusement as Derek sat up a little straighter, “Is that a challenge?”

“If you want it to be.” Emily’s brows shot up.

“Alright, you’re on,” Derek nodded, determination radiating off of him.

“Well, I don’t know how strong either of your games are,” Luke spoke up, glancing quickly over at Spencer who was just observing the whole encounter, “but I think I could take on both of you.”

“No you could not,” Tara sneered from beside him.

“And you could?” Luke challenged.

Setting her glass down, Tara replied, “Yes.”

You giggled at the thought of the four of them having a kiss-off, just imagining how utterly chaotic that would be due to all of their extraordinarily competitive natures.

“Oh my god, this is going to be so fun!” Penelope squealed. “Now we just have to figure out who’s going to judge!”

“We can’t really use one of us because some people might be biased or recognize the kisser,” Emily casually stated. It took a moment for you to realize what she’d just admitted to. Who on the team has kissed before? But before you could really start thinking about it, you noticed that everyone’s gaze had slowly turned to you.

“What is happening right now?” you questioned, looked between them.

The five of them exchanged excited, knowing looks before training their attention back on you. Then you got it. “Are you serious?”

“You’re the only one who hasn’t kissed one of us!” Derek explained, as if it were obvious.

“You mean…” you trailed off, but again couldn’t complete the thought before someone interrupted.

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Penelope promised. “And you seem like you’d be a very neutral judge.”

“Not to mention,” Tara added, “You’re a pretty blank slate since you haven’t really kissed anyone.”

“Don’t worry though, we’ll show you a good time,” Derek assured with a wink.

Heads nodded. You were a bit worried that there would be some hurt feelings by the end of this, but they were all adults, and the appeal to kiss all of them, along with their eager faces, became enough to convince you to say yes.

“Yes!” Derek exclaimed. He looked pointedly at Emily, “It is so on.”

She just rolled her eyes. “Pen, do you have a blindfold?”

“A what?” you asked.

“Well we can’t have you getting biased on us. This has to be strictly about kissing.” Hearing her explain it with such reason hampered your growing nerves a bit. Like you’d said, you hadn’t kissed very many people and you were worried how much better they were going to be at it than you.

You reminded yourself that this was more about them than you, and tried to use that to calm yourself down. You were about to be kissed by some of the most attractive people you’d met. This was definitely not a bad place to be.

While Penelope rummaged through her belongings to get a makeshift blindfold, Luke convinced Spencer to join and JJ decided to participate.

Pretty soon, they had you seated in a chair, another one across from you, waiting for whoever was going to go first, while Emily explained some ground rules. “We are going to go in rounds. We will each kiss her and then after every round, Y/N will eliminate one of us based on the number in the round we kissed her so she doesn’t know who it is. No touching. You can’t use your hands in any way, this has to purely be about the kiss. And kiss however you normally would, no matter what that means for you.”

“No hands?” Spencer questioned. You were still surprised that he’d agreed to join, let alone ask a question like that. Luke gave him an odd look from behind while Emily confirmed the rule.

“Your hands might give away who you are, and again, this is just about the kiss.”

“Alright, alright, let’s just get started,” Derek complained, as Penelope tied the blindfold behind your head.

Now that you couldn’t see, you relied on your hearing to figure out what was happening. You heard some shuffling and disgruntled whispering, then you heard the chair across from you slide across the floor toward you. You waited anxiously as the person leaned in and pressed their lips to yours.

Their lips were plush and soft, but the kiss seemed a little too forced. It was a bit excited and you could feel their smile as they started pulling away. It was a pretty good kiss, definitely better than your previous two, despite the fact that it only lasted a few seconds. You couldn’t help but try and guess who it was, thinking it was either Penelope or Tara.

The next person who sat down completely blew the person before them out of the water. It was a much longer kiss and the person even swiped their tongue across your bottom lip for entry. You weren’t really thinking as you gave them access, the heat in your body starting to rise. You just hoped that your face wasn’t giving any of that heat away, so you were almost grateful that the person pulled away.

There was a bout of silence, which made you feel a little awkward, but soon enough, you heard the cushion squish down across from you. Their knee knocked yours, as you assumed they crossed their legs. Being a profiler, you were very used to picking up on body language with your eyes, making it kind of fun to try and pick up those same behavioral cues with all of your other senses. This person, you could tell, was very hesitant. You couldn’t say you were surprised when the person really only pecked you on the lips.

Number four in the line up started out pretty good, but you felt them start shaking or something halfway through. You quickly realized that they were laughing and you pulled back. You couldn’t help but smile when you asked, “Why are you laughing?”

Up until then, they had laughed pretty silently, but once you called them out, they just full out chuckled. “I’m sorry!” Tara unapologetically said through more laughs. “I couldn’t help it. I blame Luke.”

You laughed with her as you playfully shook your head. “You were doing so well up until then!”

“I know!” she agreed.

“I guess this means you’re out?” you half questioned.

Tara gave an over dramatic sigh, but you could hear the smile in her voice as she stated, “I guess so.” As she walked away, Luke gave a small ‘ow,’ and you assumed she’d hit him. You wondered what about this was Luke’s fault? Had he said something to her?

Either way, someone took her spot across from you. They wasted no time leaning in and putting their lips on yours. The kiss started out slow and gentle, like they were easing you into it. But gradually, as you both became more used to the other, it picked up pace, your mouths starting to move in sync. It felt like all of their energy was focused on you and exploring your mouth with their tongue. It was by far the most passionate kiss you’d experienced, and you tried to hide the pout from your face as they pulled back, chasing their lips for only a second before remembering there was an audience, and a competition.

Person number six was … good. You couldn’t really describe it. They used, what now seemed to you to be, a medium amount of tongue, for a medium amount of time. It was a good kiss, you weren’t saying it wasn’t, it just didn’t have any quirk or something unique that stood out. It was just … good. You knew Tara was out, so you tried to guess who that person could be. You thought maybe JJ, or possibly Luke, but you couldn’t be sure.

The final person who kissed you was intense. They had plump, captivating lips, but the way they kissed verged on overwhelming. They were also a little sloppy in their movements, and it was like you could tell they weren’t fully invested. Distracted, maybe? Again, not bad, but nothing like some of the other kissers.

The air was hot and heavy as Emily spoke up. “Okay, we’ve all gone. You know Tara is out, she was number four, so who else from this round would you eliminate?”

You pretended to think about it, even though it actually wasn’t that hard to pick. “I think it was person number three.” The person who just sort of pecked me, you thought, but didn’t say.

The players were now down to five, and they went in the same order as they had before, minus person number three, who you guessed was Spencer, and Tara.

This round made you even more confused about who was who than the round before. The excited one you guessed was either Luke or Penelope, the intimate one you thought was Derek, the passionate one you thought was either Luke or Emily, the average one you thought was JJ, and the sloppy, intense one you had no idea about.

By the end of that round, you eliminated person number one, the overly excited, verging on too hard kisser.

The next round was a no brainer. The intimate kisser, Derek you thought, upped his game. He kissed you for longer, used a bit more tongue, but was still somehow gentle. If you thought he’d upped his game, you weren’t prepared for person number two. They also upped their game, keeping your mouths molded together for longer than before, something you were more than happy about. You couldn’t quite place exactly what it was about their kiss, maybe that it seemed so perfectly balanced, incorporated the perfect amount of everything, or something else, but they were absolutely magnetic. It sent electric waves through your body, making you feel a little tingly. You felt sort of bad for the average kisser, most likely JJ, because they had to follow that up. And finally the sloppy kisser, who you still couldn’t place. They didn’t up their game at all. If anything, they felt more distracted by the minute, and pulled away earlier than the rest.

“Person number four,” you stated when Tara asked who was getting eliminated.

It was now down to three; the intimate kisser, you predicted Derek, the passionate kisser, either Luke or Emily, and the average kisser, probably JJ.

There was some shuffling, a faint whispering, a small ‘ow,’ and then Tara spoke up again. “Now that there are only three left, as long as you are okay with it, they want to use their hands.”

You tried to downplay the excitement you were feeling with this new rule, but you were sure their trained ears could hear it in the way you said, “Yes, that’s good with me.”

The seat across from you suddenly became occupied, but before anything could happen, Tara quickly jumped in. “Wait. Y/N, you can’t use your hands.” When you pouted a little, she explained, “Well if you did, you’d definitely know who is who, so…”

You sighed, but agreed, waiting in anticipation for the person across from you to touch you.

It started soft, their long fingers brushing over your cheeks as they leaned in. Soon enough, though, the entirety of their hands were firmly cupping your face and pulling you ridiculously close, close enough to feel some of their body heat. It was intimate, and again made you feel like the most important person to whoever those lips and hands belonged to. You rubbed your thumb into your palm, wanting nothing more than to reach out and touch them, but you knew you couldn’t. Your sole focus was on them, them on you, and you had to say it was one of the best kisses of the night.

That person made you feel like the most important person in the world, but the next person kissed you like you were the only person in the world. They started out by tucking your hair behind your ear, then slowly sliding their fingers back into the loose strands. As they started to kiss you, they moved their other hand behind your head, cradling the back of your neck. The person before them had captured your focus, but this person erased any thoughts your mind was capable of forming. You couldn’t think about anything other than the way their tongue moved against yours, and the shiver they sent down your spine as one of their hands traveled the length of it, coming to rest just above your hip, strong, confident fingers pulling you closer. It was a moment you never wanted to end, and one that left you in a cold shock when it eventually did.

You almost didn’t even want the last person to kiss you because of how you knew it would never come close to what you’d just experienced, but a competition was a competition. The third person kissed you similarly to how they’d done before, good but nothing special, their hands resting comfortably on your hips.

When it was all over, you asked, “Can I take off the blindfold now? I know who the winner is.”

“Sure, but announce who first,” Tara suggested.

“Okay,” you agreed. “The third person got third, the first person got second, and the second person was the winner. Can I take the blindfold off now?” you asked again. You were eager to find out who was who. When you didn’t get an immediate response warning you not to, you stood up and quickly ripped it off to quite the amusing sight. Spencer looked as bright as a cherry, Penelope looked shocked but proud, Tara was smirking, Luke’s eyes were the size of beach balls, JJ looked indifferent, Emily was smirking, and Derek looked like he’d just been shot. “So are you going to tell me who was who?”

Without answering, Emily took two large strides toward you and placed her lips back on yours. One of her hands slid back into your hair while the other rested above your waist, and you smiled into the kiss. Of course it was you, you thought. When she pulled away, you were both smiling like idiots, and she gave you a single eyebrow raise as you both turned to look at Derek.

“I got third?” he asked, still in a state of bewilderment.

“What?” you asked, just as shocked as he was. “I thought you got second.”

Emily snorted. “You thought Spencer was Derek?”

What?! You spun to face Spencer, the person you were sure got out the first round, and he was still blushing like he’d been out in the sun for far too long. “You took second?” He nodded nervously. You beamed at him, causing him to return a shy smile, then look down at his fiddling hands. “You’re a really good kisser,” you complimented.

Derek repeated, “I took third? Emily, I guess I kinda get,” she rolled her eyes at that, “but Pretty Boy?”

You shrugged, and Luke jumped in, though not nearly as harsh as Derek had been. “Yeah, I took fourth, but Spencer got second?”

You offered him a cheeky smile, remembering how distracted he felt while kissing you, and the not-so-subtle glances he constantly made at Spencer all the time. You took the opportunity to encourage whatever was going on there. “He did. Like I said, he’s a good kisser. Very intimate, like I was the only one on his mind. You should try kissing him sometime. Might help you feel less distracted.” You winked and Spencer looked like he wanted to evaporate. Luke, on the other hand, was just staring at Spencer, and you could see the gears spinning in his head. He finally mumbled a ‘what the hell’ before pulling Spencer to him by the back of his neck. Spencer seemed immediately surprised, but recovered quite quickly, no hesitation to his movements after the initial shock. They kissed each other probably exactly how they’d just kissed you, Spencer’s hands cupping Luke’s face, Luke’s hands resting on the back of Spencer’s neck and lower back. Although, you’d have to say that Luke looked a bit more focused than he’d been with you. You laughed while some of the other members hooted. This was something that’d been a long time coming.

When they pulled away, Luke nodded. “Y/N, I definitely agree with you.”

Spencer smiled, and playfully nudged Luke as he said, “Y/N, I also agree with you.”

“Hey!” Luke exclaimed, but he was smiling the brightest he had in a while.

Derek was still a mess, not enjoying the moment as much as he usually would’ve, and asked, “What did I do wrong?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you assured, “You’re a good kisser, but there’s just nothing too special about it. It’s kinda just…”

Emily and Derek looked at you expectantly before Emily got it. “Wait. Are you calling him average?”

She looked way too excited for the occasion, but she was right. He was just kinda average. You nonchalantly admitted, “I guess.”

Derek let his hands fall to his sides with a slap, his mouth still hanging open. Emily’s lips curled up into a sly smile as she placed a hand on Derek’s shoulder. “It’s okay. Not everyone can be as good as me.” He shrugged her hand off his shoulder, and she held out her hand. Derek reached into his back pocket producing his wallet, and grudgingly slapped a crumpled $20 into her open palm. You gawked at them, not realizing that they’d placed a bet on their skills.

Emily returned to your side, closer than she’d really ever stood to you before, and gave you a smile that seemed on the shyer side for her, biting her lip as she peered at you through her lashes. You mirrored her shy smile, pressing your lips together as heat quickly spread to your cheeks. You turned back to the rest of the conversation that demanded your attention, people wanting to know why you eliminated them. But you couldn’t help glancing over at Emily every now and then, and couldn’t hide your joy when you saw that she was gazing back.

Who knows? Maybe that night was going to be the start of two great relationships in the BAU.

@90spumkin

[spencers-renaissance]

I turn and reach for you

Summary: Three months after Hankel, Spencer starts getting terrible nightmares that keep him up at night. He tries desperately to keep his secret until one day when it's all too much to bear anymore. Luckily, Derek Morgan is there to hold him together as he falls apart.

Tags: nightmares, hurt/comfort, ptsd, angst with a happy ending, fluff, literal sleeping together, getting together, post-revelations TW: past non-con drug use mentioned once in passing

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 2.1k

Masterlist // Read on AO3 // Bad Things Happen Bingo

This feels the "Nightmares" square on my Bad Things Happen bingo card, and was written for this prompt by @i-write-whump. Title from a poem by Devon Strang.

After Spencer is kidnapped by Tobias Hankel, he stays with Derek. Nobody on the team wants him to be alone, and he’s always felt the most comfortable with him, so it makes sense. Besides, he’s got the space.

Spencer sometimes wonders whether the team pushed so hard for it because they genuinely believed that, logistically, Derek was the best option, or because they could also see the slow-burning romance simmering under the surface of their relationship. They’ve always had a special friendship, but Spencer can feel the growing tension: the deep and intense looks they share mid-case, the lingering touches on backs and arms, the affection leaking into each ‘pretty boy’ and every ‘Der’.

Perhaps if Hankel never came into the picture they’d already be together — it really had felt like they were on the precipice of something special — but it’s three months later and Spencer’s still sleeping in the spare room; there’s still just as much will they, won’t they lingering in the air between them.

He tries not to mind too much. After all, he’s never had so much free access to the man he’s pined after for years now, and they’re living in each other’s pockets. Almost every waking hour is spent in one another’s company: they cook together, eat together, watch films together, and neither of them are showing any sign of getting sick of it. But every time they’re cooking pasta and Derek says something ridiculous, Spencer wishes he was allowed to lean in and kiss the tip of his nose; every time they sit down to watch something together, he wishes he could burrow into his side and rest his head in the crook of his neck.

(Sometimes, Spencer wishes he could rewind to the weeks immediately after the Hankel incident when Derek would carry him around the flat to keep him off his broken feet; when he could press his face into his shoulder and inhale the scent of complete and utter safety.)

It’s almost torturous, being so close yet so far.

He isn’t quite sure why the nightmares start so late. The nights during the first couple of months are blissfully dreamless, so exhausted from the physical and emotional trauma that sleep was a tantalising escape, but once he’s back in the field, once normal life resumes, everything changes.

The first time he wakes up sweating and panting, heart pounding as he tries to convince himself that he’s no longer in Hankel’s clutches but is safe and sound in Derek’s apartment, he dismisses it as a one-off. He hasn’t had nightmares yet, so why should they start now? He doesn’t go back to sleep that night, too shaken to relax back into the comforting embrace of sleep, too afraid of deception: that he wouldn’t sleep dreamlessly but that the nightmare would be waiting for him once again.

The second time worries him. He gets up this time and gets a glass of water as quietly as possible, leaning with his back against the kitchen counter as he ponders what this could mean for him. The thing is, they’re so incredibly vivid. It really feels like he’s back at the mercy of a three-in-one torturer armed with drugs and belts and guns, genuinely unsure of whether he’ll ever see his family again. He doesn’t go back to sleep this time, either, instead pacing around the living room until Derek wakes up. He lies that he’s only been up for half an hour, and Derek believes him.

The third time solidifies for Spencer the fact that this is a problem. Three is a pattern, everybody knows that, and Spencer spends the rest of the night scouring the internet for studies conducted around delayed trauma responses and discovers the prevalence of delayed-onset PTSD. He’s tempted to contact a professor he met during his third PhD who specialised in the psychology of trauma, but he thinks better of it. Admitting these nightmares would be admitting defeat.

This is something he has to deal with alone.

(He ignores the truth that it’s more fear than anything else that keeps him from telling anyone: fear of being seen as weak, fear of nothing changing, fear of voicing his trauma out loud. It’s easier to pretend it’s about independent agency.)

It doesn’t affect him too much at first. Sure, he’s scared to go to sleep and he sweats so profusely that it soaks through his bedsheets almost every night, but he’s managing. He’s okay. He contributes just as much to their profiles and takes down unsubs without flinching. He dances around Derek like they have done for over a year, and he sits through Dr Who marathons with Penelope just fine. So what if he’s a bit tired? He’s stared down some of America’s Most Wanted and interviewed famous serial killers, he can cope with a little fatigue.

It doesn’t stay that easy for long.

Soon everybody’s asking about the bags under his eyes, his slower reaction times when they visit the gun range, his twitchiness around the team.

“Are you sleeping okay, Spencer?” Penelope asks him one day, brushing a curly lock of hair behind his ears as they sit side by side on the sofa next to a conked out Derek.

He can’t nod his head quick enough. “Yeah! Yes, uh. Yes, Penelope, I’m sleeping fine, I promise,” he says as convincingly as he can, flashing her a smile. He hates lying to her, but he can’t let anyone find out, he just can’t.

Slowly, he begins losing his grip on reality. He’s almost delusional from the sleep deprivation, and he starts seeing Hankel everywhere he goes. He’s stood behind the fridge door, in the foyer of the FBI Headquarters, in the toilets of a local police station, stood right behind the unsub they’re currently trying to talk down, goddamnit.

He’s beyond exhausted, but some nights he still refuses to sleep, too afraid of what awaits him in his dreams, too afraid of the fear he knows he’ll carry into the next day, too afraid of feeling weak again. Helpless. Completely and utterly without agency.

He sits up with his back against the headboard, the main light off but the lamp switched on, scrolling through as many scholarly articles as he can read in a night, drinking cup after cup of steaming black coffee. Most nights he makes it through till morning without sleeping a wink, but sometimes he can’t stop himself from drifting off The nightmares on those nights are the worst.

He isn’t okay and people are starting to notice. Everyone’s walking on eggshells around him right now, but he knows it won’t be long before Penelope organises an intervention that Hotch hosts and Derek directs. The worst part about it is that he feels like a trainwreck waiting to happen. He’s headed straight for complete and utter collapse, and the only possible way to stop the train in its tracks is to reach out and get help, the one thing he can’t get himself to do.

And he isn’t even really sure why.

It all comes to a head on a warm night in July. He’d fallen into bed that night deliberately, actually intending to sleep for once. The bone-deep tiredness had finally caught up to him and he didn’t even care that he was walking straight into the arms of Tobias Hankel, if it meant he got even an iota of refreshing sleep, then it would be worth it.

But he isn’t quite of the same mind when he wakes up at two in the morning like he does almost every night: soaked in sweat with his heart going a million beats per minute, with only one difference. Tonight, he’s crying.

Maybe it’s the emotional turmoil of the last few months catching up to him, or maybe it’s just the severity of this particular dream, but whatever it is, he can’t seem to stop even once he’s awake. Sobs wrack his shoulders as he cries miserably into the pillow, finally letting out the emotions he’s kept bottled up so tightly, and he’s almost wailing after a couple of minutes of anguish.

All he can think as he cries helplessly is how badly he wants Derek. He wants to be wrapped up in his strong and safe embrace, he wants to feel the movement of his soft goatee against his cheek, he wants to inhale the comforting scent of his sleep t-shirts, he wants the warmth and solace that only Derek Morgan can give him, and in that moment, emotionally distraught and so incredibly sleep-deprived, he decides to get it.

He stumbles out of his bedroom and down the hall, stopping once he reaches Derek’s door. He hesitates for only a second before he pushes it open slowly, allowing the light from the lamp they keep switched on in the hallway to gently illuminate the shadows of his bedroom.

“Spencer?” Derek asks groggily, immediately sitting up and wiping his eyes. “What’s wrong? Are you crying?”

At the acknowledgement of his tears, Spencer starts to cry harder, and as embarrassed as he feels, he can’t slow the steady stream of tears rolling down his face as he stands in the doorway like a child in their parents’ room.

“Spence,” Derek says again, gentle and sympathetic, “come here.” He lifts the duvet up and scooches over slightly as if to make room for him in his already spacious king-size bed.

He doesn’t need to be told twice, though, and he stumbles forward, collapsing into bed and wrapping himself around Derek instantly. His arms come up to circle Spencer’s waist, caressing him gently as he holds him close to his body, shushing him quietly.

“It’s okay, Spence,” he murmurs. “I’m here now, alright? We’re gonna fix whatever it is, I promise you. We’ll get through this. You’ll get through this.”

He lets himself cry and cry and cry until his tears are dried up and he’s hiccupping from the force of his sobs. He would feel terrible about the damp spot left on Derek’s t-shirt, but he simply doesn’t have the energy. Instead, he continues to lie there on Derek’s chest, listening to his softly spoken assurances and losing himself in the sensation of Derek’s fingertips caressing the skin of his waist.

After a couple of minutes of silence, interrupted only by the odd hiccup from Spencer’s tired lungs, Derek finally asks the question. “What was that all about, pretty boy?” he asks with a tenderness Spencer isn’t sure he’s ever heard before. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Been having nightmares,” Spencer whispers, keeping his eyes closed against Derek’s imploring gaze.

He feels Derek tense beneath him, his fingers briefly pausing before resuming their comforting patterns on his waist, and a heavy breath escapes his lips. “For how long?”

“Last couple of months,” he mumbles, and somehow another tear manages to escape Spencer’s screwed up eyes.

“Well,” Derek sighs, “I suppose that explains a lot. We’ve been so worried about you, Spencer. We had no idea what was going on but we could all see you withdrawing, and it wasn’t exactly a secret how exhausted you were.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Derek says sadly. “I should’ve pushed harder to figure out what was going on with you. I’m so sorry you’ve had to deal with this all alone.”

“I didn’t know how to tell anyone,” Spencer says, suddenly desperate to explain as he shifts slightly to look Derek in the eye. “I was so scared and I didn’t want anyone to think that I was weak or I couldn’t do my job anymore, and I just didn’t know what to do.”

“I know, Spence,” Derek says soothingly, “but you’ve told me now, haven’t you? And I’m going to do everything I can to get you some help. We’ll fix this, baby. I promise you, I’m going to make sure you’re happy and healthy again if it’s the last thing I do, okay?”

Spencer sniffs a little, wiping tiredly at his eyes as he blinks up at the sincerity on Derek’s face. For the first time in far too long he manages a smile. “Okay.”

Derek runs a hand through his hair before dropping a kiss to the top of his head. “Do you want to sleep here tonight?”

Spencer’s smile widens and he buries his face in Derek’s chest again as his cheeks flush red. “Please.”

Months later, they’ll realise they never officially asked one another to be in an actual, exclusive relationship. Months later, they’ll know instinctively and with absolute certainty that this night was the night that changed everything for them, and exactly one year later, they’ll celebrate their first anniversary on that date.

Tonight, though, they sleep curled up next to one another in Derek’s bed, and although Spencer doesn’t fall into the same dreamless sleep he grew used to immediately after Hankel, for once he isn’t haunted by nightmares, but dreams inflected with hope for what the future holds for them, and he’ll take that over dreamlessness any day.

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @lesbiantodds @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @livrere-blue @hotchseyebrows @enbyspencer @reidology @transhanniballecter @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @ @marsjareau @garcias-bitch @oliverbrnch @im-autistic @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @reidreids @ropoto @thosecriminalminds (add yourself to my taglist)

[finnyboywolfhard]

Gross

Richie Tozier x Reader

summary: Y/N likes Richie so much its gross. 

Inspiration: Gross by Olivia Rodrigo 

warnings: literally just pure fluff, cursing we know who this is about 

word count: 2.1k 

The bass was heavy and loud, the people were insufferably packed together. Y/N was a really good friend, or so she kept telling herself, for coming to this party just to appease Bev. Ever since they met at a bookstore, they had gotten really close-despite living in two different towns. Y/N maneuvered her way through the swarm of people. She turned the corner into the living room and spotted her red headed friend in the corner alongside the group, she had heard called themselves ‘The Losers Club’. Her elbows starting jamming into people as she finally crossed the threshold of people and practically fell into the arms of one, Richie Tozier.

“Well, well, well. It appears that you’ve fallen for me.” Y/N let out a chuckle at the response. His brown eyes, goofy little grin and messy, curly hair did manage to melt her heart just a little bit in that moment.

“So, Y/N, you’ve met Richie.” Bev said as she pulled her from Richie’s arms and into a hug. The two stand swaying for a second before Y/N releases herself from the hug. She couldn’t help but notice the six set of eyes staring at her.

“Jesus guys, would it kill you to interact with her instead of stare.” Bev pulled Y/N’s back to her chest and looked toward the group. “You guys, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Ben, Bill, Mike, Stan, Eddie and Richie.” She pointed at each one as they were introduced.

“Ni-Ni-Nice to me-meet you, Y/N.” Bill said waving to her. Y/N and the group got acquainted a little before they all started breaking off in sections, leaving Richie and Y/N alone.

“Hey.” Y/N said breaking the awkward ‘silence’. “I don’t know this house at all, could you guide me to the kitchen for something to drink?”

“Of course m’lady.” He said taking on one of his many accents. He lightly grabbed her hand and dragged her through some people and into the kitchen. The girl somehow found a water bottle amidst the copious amounts of alcohol.

“Come on, not even one drink?” Richie said leaning in to shout over the music, their faces coming extremely close.

“No sir, I have to drive home tonight. Who’s your lucky DD?”

“Stan the Man Uris.” Richie slurred together slightly. He wasn’t drunk, but he wasn’t quite sober either. Y/N let out an ‘Ah’ in response. She noticed how many eyes were now spent looking at her and Richie.

“Hey Richie?”

“Yes my darling angel?” The nickname made her blush, but she had a bigger thing to focus on.

“Why is every girl in the room staring at you?”

“Oh…Uhh…well you see, I made a joke to some gullible ass freshman that I had a 12 inch wang and he’s started telling everyone. Now the class clown is somehow becoming the class arm candy. I just want it to stop.”

“What if we made them stare for another reason?”

“You got an idea?”

“Two, first off how do you feel about slapping?”

“Please don’t slap me.”

“Okay, what about pretending we’re gonna go hook up?”

“Now we don’t have to pretend if you don’t want to-“ She shoved his arm.

“Richie, do you want it to stop or not?”

“What should I do?”

“I’m gonna get really, really close.” She said as she pressed her body flush with his. Her face was centimeters away from his, she pulled his face down so that she could whisper into his ear. “Now wrap your arms around my waist and pull me closer. Start talking about something random and just ignore what I am doing.” She pulled back just slightly as to start making eye contact. Her stomach was a flutter with butterflies and the proximity. His arms wrapped around her and snuggly brought her closer to him. He began jabbering about something stupid Eddie had said earlier that day about your hand getting chopped off while it’s out the car window. To sell the point to ones close enough to see, which considering how dense the party was was a lot of people, she kept glancing between his eyes and his lips while he was talking. After a few minutes past, she pulled him down to whisper again.

“Is it working?” She watched as his eyes lightly glazed the room and shook his head no. She cursed to herself. Richie’s eyes lit up with an idea, and his arms squeezed her tighter into him.

“I’m gonna kiss you now.” Richie leaned down to whisper into her ear. He leans back and Y/N shakes her head yes. He gently grabs her chin and pulls her in for a passionate kiss. They stay kissing for a brief span before pulling apart. He leaned into her ear and said “If I get you to the front door, can we go out to your car?” All Y/N did in response was grab his hand. He lead her to the door, and she led him the rest of the way. Once they get to her car, she lets her head fall against the headrest on the seat.

“Oh my god it’s so much nicer out here.” She let out with a chuckle.

“You can say that again.” Richie said in the same manner. “Thank you for back there by the way, I just needed to get the fuck out of there.”

“Oh yeah, no worries. What should we do about Bev and the boys?”

“I figured that when they can’t find us, they’ll come looking. In the meantime, we could hangout…that is if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” Y/N said with a beaming smile. And from that day on, they hung out as much as they physically could. Their weird fake relationship blossomed into a wonderful friendship and then a very real relationship. For nearly 3 months, the pair had seen each other at least five times in a week. Whether that meant Richie driving the 45 minutes to her or vice versa. It was a lot, and it was expensive but they didn’t care. They were having fun and loving where they were.

Y/N was hanging a new photo of her and Richie on her wall by her bed, as Richie watched idly on her bed. His eyes wandered around the walls and furniture at all the different photos and keepsakes she had kept. While most of the photos were of either him, or the two together, he didn’t feel narcissistic in loving how her room looked. He loved it just because it was hers.

“So tell me my darling angel, how was school today?”

“Fine.”

“No Y/N. We’re not doing this bullshit today. What happened?”

“Nothing, just this dumb bitch Penelope C.”

“God, I hate that Penelope C piece of shit.” He said, matching her same angered tone.

“Rich, you don’t even know her babe.”

“I trust your opinion of her, if you hate her, I fucking despise her.” Y/N grabbed her boyfriends face wasting no time in making out with him. She pulls back and just looks at him stunned.

“Why was that the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me?”

“What can I say? I know what drives the ladies crazy.”

“I’m sure of it.” She said sarcastically. Richie did his signature puppy dog eyes, and her icy heart was thawed. She gave him one more peck to the lips, and then began placing pecks scattered all over his face. He grabbed her by her hips and flipped her to be beneath him. He began tickling her relentlessly. Her laughter filled the room, yet also drained her. She pried him off of her. The two lay side by side, heads turned to make eye contact.

“You’re so fucking beautiful Y/N.” Richie said. Y/N moved her head closer and gave him one more soft kiss.

Music softly filled the car. Richies hand was placed gently in Y/N’s lap, his thumb absentmindedly grazes her leg. Her eyes were wandering, looking at each driveway, house, mailbox and road. One day, hopefully, her and Richie would be driving to their own house. They would pull into the driveway and go inside to see their pets or their kids. Her future with him seemed bright. A wide smile creeped across her face as did a light blush.

“What’s got you so smiley?” Richie said, glancing away from the road to look at her.

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

“You were thinking about me huh?”

“Yeah…” Y/N said embarrassed.

“Tell me all the dirty little details, my darling angel.” He said cockily, smirking towards the road.

“Ugh, Richie don’t be gross. I wasn’t thinking about that.”

“I’m sorry, but is it so hard to believe that my hot girlfriend is thinking about her incredibly sexy boyfriend?”

“Oh shut the hell up.” She said through her laughter. He started faintly laughing with her.

“What were you really thinking about?”

“Just about what it would be like to have a future together. And what it would be like to drive to a home of our own with things of our own.”

“You really want a future with me?”

“Of course I do.”

“I can’t wait for it then.” He said smiling, transferring his hand from her thigh to her hand. He gave her hand a light squeeze. They drove in comfortable silence for a moment, before Y/N had the idea to stir the pot.

“Oh and Richie?”

“Yeah?”

“Think of all the sex we could have in a house of our own.” She said with a smirk as they pulled into her driveway.

Bev wandered around Y/N’s room as she was chaotically putting away her laundry all over her room.

“Jesus, everywhere I turn, there’s Richie.” Bev said breaking the silence, making Y/N giggle to herself. “You really like that dumbass don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do.” Y/N stopped for a moment to think about Richie Tozier before continuing,“I can’t help but think and talk about him all the time. He makes me feel so safe and loved, and he always makes me laugh harder than anyone else. I want everything from him- the highs, the lows, and everything in between. I want to tell him everything about my day and i want to hear about the trivial shit he talks about like the traffic coming to see me or what bill did at lunch that day. I like him so so much. I lo-love him.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda gross.” Bev joked with Y/N. “I’m happy for ya Y/N/N, as annoying as he is, he is a really good guy.”

“God, he is so annoying… but it’s kinda why I love him.” The girls continued their night as planned, but the thoughts of how Y/N felt about Richie never left.

As soon as Bev left her house early the next morning, she hopped in her car and went over to Richie’s house. Bev always had to leave super early because of her dad, so Y/N knew she couldn’t just knock on the Tozier’s door. She climbed her way up a tree and across some of Richie’s roof in order to knock on his window. A shirtless and boxer clad Richie came the window groggily.

“What are you doing here darling angel? It’s fucking 7 am.” He said, rubbing his eyes and through a yawn.

“I just really gotta talk to you.” His eyes widened at that sentence. He ushered her in and onto his bed. She sat for a few seconds and then stood up to pace a small line.

“Y/N, is everything okay?” Richie said.

“I just…I like you so much it’s gross.” Y/N said looking right at him. “And you were right.” She said with a roll of the eyes and a light stamp of her foot.

“What? What do you mean ‘I’m right’?”

“That very first night we met, hell the very first moments we met. You were right, I did fall for you.”

“Y/N…” Richie said quietly, coming up to bring his body flush to hers, just the moment at the party.

“I love you Richie.”

“I love you so fucking much Y/N.” He said, pulling her into a long, passionate kiss. Y/N sure was glad he was the one she gave her heart to.

[write-orflight]

Settle Down: Chapter 2

**Gif Not Mine**

Prev -  Next

Pairings: SpencerXReader (kinda enemies to lovers)  

Rating: M

Words: 2K

Warnings: SMUT!! (fingering, sexual content, small breeding kink i guess), cursing. things of that nature

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary: Y/N and Spencer don’t get along but turn to each other for the one thing you need someone else for… A baby. You can plantonically start a family, right?

AN: Unedited. This chapter has smut, not intense smut but it is to further the plot. comment on this chapter or message for taglist. much love Cia!

 Chapter 2: Would it help if I dressed up like Spock?

You never want to thank serial killers for anything but you were slightly grateful that they decided to chill for a week. You and Spencer didn’t really want to have to put this off another month and you very well couldn’t go to Hotch like “you mind if Spencer sits this case out so he can knock me up?” 

You decided that you wouldn’t tell the team what you guys were doing until you were at least 4 months pregnant, which getting Garcia to keep it a secret was proving to be its own task. You thankfully had been able to intercept her before she could tell Derek. 

Spencer was over every night after work now, cuddling you on your couch watching a new Disney movie. For a man who seemed to know everything, his classic children movie knowledge was lacking. Right now, you guys were watching Ratatouille. He was sitting on the couch and you were on the floor beneath him between his legs, his hand aimlessly raking through your hair. You were on the verge of purring like a cat. You had forgotten how it felt to be comfortable around someone. 

“I don’t understand. If this movie is supposed to be about a rodent in a gourmet restaurant. Why is he making a peasant dish?” 

“It’s called Ratatouille. Why do you think?” You say, looking up at him. “It’s a pun.” 

He smiles down at you. “Well, it’s a play on words. Not a pun.” 

“Whatever, nerd.” You go to turn your attention back to the screen but his hand slides from your scalp to around your chin, forcing your head to stay up. 

“Tomorrow’s the day, you know.” Spencer says. 

“Trust me, I know.” You say. 

“Are you…. nervous?” He asks, eyes kind of shifting. 

“You don't make me nervous, Spencer.” You say, turning so you can look at him fully. “But something tells me you are. Tell me what’s bothering you.” 

“It’s just…. Idontwantittobebadforyou.” He rushes out. 

You look confused for a second before you realize what he’s saying to you. “Oh, Spencer you don’t have to worry about that.” You say, tapping him on the leg. “After all, you are kinda the only one it needs to be good for.”  

“Actually some studies have been showing that women are more likely to become pregnant if they also achieve orgasm.”  

“Now that’s something I didn’t know.” 

“I just… it just feels selfish. You’re not getting anything out of it.” 

“But I am getting something out of it, Spence. The best thing, our kid.” You laugh. “That’s what we’re doing this for, right?” 

He hesitates slightly. “Y-Yea, it is. Sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.” 

“Hey, it’s alright. Caring if I orgasm already puts you above like 90% of the guys I’ve fucked.” You shrug. “Now, shut up. I’m trying to watch Remy.” You say, turning your attention but to the kitchen antics on the screen before you. 

———————————————

You had been antsy all day. Penelope tried to pry out of you what was making you so jittery but you never told her. As far as Penny was concerned, you and Spencer were going through the clinic. She didn’t need to know the details of how you were getting pregnant. 

After work, you and Spencer piled into your car and drove to your house. Once inside, Spencer waited in the living room while you went to the bathroom and took an ovulation test. Not exactly the sexiest thing to set the mood but what are you gonna do? You come out some time later brandishing the test before tossing it in the trash. 

“Well, I’m ovulating.” You say. “How are you feeling?” 

“F-Fine.” He stutters before clearing his throat. “I’m fine.” 

“Ok so you’re clearly not fine.” You say. “We don’t have to do this tonight if you’re having doubts. We can wait as long as you need.” 

“No, I’m fine, just nervous.” 

“This is probably the wrong time to ask but you’ve…. Done this before right?” 

He looks at you incredulously. “Christ, Y/N. I’m not a Virgin.” He exclaims. You hold your hands up in surrender. “It’s just weird. You’re my coworker.” 

“We can pretend I’m someone else if you want. Like I’m someone from the bar? Or where do you even meet girls? The library? Comic con? Pen gave me a Star Trek shirt last year. Would it help if I dressed up like Spock?—“ 

“Can I just kiss you?” He cuts you off. “Can we start there?” 

Your face can’t help but soften at that. “Yea, Spencer. That’s fine.” You say, stepping into his space. You feel his hand cradle your face before he leans in kissing you softly. You go at his speed for a while, slowly letting your tongues meet in the middle as you wound your hands into his hair. Soon a gasp is leaving you as you feel hands circling your waist pulling you closer as his kisses become rougher. Soon, you find yourself pressed against your wall. You let out a small yelp not expecting that at all. Spencer slots a leg in between yours, rubbing it against your clothed sex slightly. You groan when you feel his erection against your hip. Spencer’s now kissing you extremely rough. His hand drifts from it’s hold on your hip to the bottom of your jaw, fingers spreading slightly so he's almost gripping your neck like he wants to but is trying to hold back for right now. You’re a little surprised at that, you would’ve never thought Spencer Reid was into that. He pulls away for a second, hand still on your jaw looking at you with hooded eyes. 

“Bedroom?” He asks. You nod. 

———————————————

The two of you didn’t even have time to have an awkward moment because as soon as you’re in your room behind the closed door Spencer is on you, his lips finding your neck and that spot behind your earlobe that makes you moan. You reach to start unbuttoning his shirt, he helps you and you feel the slight smirk against your jaw. As soon as he’s undressed, you take off your clothes and sit on the bed. You look up and see Spencer still standing up at the end of it, watching you. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask. 

“Nothing.” He says. “You’re just- you’re beautiful, Y/N.”  

You don’t like the way your heart flutters at that. You need to get a grip and remember this is just a one time thing, a business interaction. 

“So do something about it.” You say. 

Spencer is on top of you at the speed of light, trailing kisses down your neck and chest. You moan loudly, back lifting off the bed when his lips circle around your nipple, fingers playing with the neglected one. He looks at you softly as he starts to pull your underwear down. His fingers ghost above your sex, waiting for your permission. You nod, moaning when you feel the first digit slides across your wet folds. You had thought about Spencer’s hands before but nothing could prepare you for how they’d actually feel inside you. He says nothing, just gently pumps the two fingers inside you, smirking at how much you’re falling apart under him. It’s somehow hotter than when guys talk to you in bed. You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the line you had set for yourself as you get closer to the edge. You shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as you were. Your moans got more and more loud as you felt yourself falling over the edge, praising Spencer’s name all the while. He still says nothing, just studies you with a look of wonderment crossing his face as you ride out your orgasm. 

“You ready?” He asks. You nod, helping him pull off his boxers before he settles in the space between your legs. You feel the tip of his member press against you before he looks you in the eye again, silently asking for permission. You push back against him, granting it. The two of you groan loudly at the feeling as he presses inside of you. Spencer gives you time to adjust to his length, he was definitely a lot bigger than you thought he was going to be, then again you never really thought about any of your coworkers genitalia before. You nod when you're ready and he starts moving, slow at first but quickly picking up pace when he hears the groans and moans escaping your body unintentionally.   

“Fuck, Spencer. R-Right there.” You stutter out, Spencer moves your legs higher up on his waist as he started fucking you faster, hitting that spot inside you nearly every thrust. You went into this expecting nothing, really just the most mediocre sex possible. Which was fine, you were only doing this for your baby. You certainly weren’t expecting Spencer to actually be good at this. But here you were, moaning like a pornstar underneath the man she didn’t even like just weeks ago. 

“Fuck,  Y/N.” He moaned, head dropping into your neck. You could feel him panting into your ear. “Fuck, you feel so good. You’re so tight, baby.” 

You don’t know where that baby came from but you were too caught up in it to care. Your moans get louder and louder and Spencer drops a hand to your sex, rubbing circles into the bundle of nerves that had your back arching off the bed. You were so unbelievably close you and Spencer could tell by the scratches you left down his back. He placed a small bite on the small patch of flesh behind your earlobe and that was all it took back over the edge for the second time that night. You felt Spencer’s thrust start to falter shortly after.  

“Shit, you feel so good, Y/N.” He groans into your ear. “Fuck.” 

You knew it wasn’t wise and if you could take it back you would. But you got swept up in the moment and still reeling from the two orgasms you had that you turned your head and whispered directly into Spencer’s ear. 

“Give me your baby, Spence.” 

Spencer’s leans his head up to look at you now, an almost feral look crossing his face as he starts fucking you harder. Looking you so intensely in your eyes. He brings a hand up to your neck squeezing the sides slightly and gripping your head so you can’t even look anywhere else if you wanted to. 

“Fuck, Y/N. You want me to fuck a baby into you, don’t you?” He says, fucking you impossibly hard. You moan loudly, gripping his wrist attached to the hand around your neck. “Fuck, I’m gonna--” He cuts off, and you watch him shake as he releases inside of you, thrusting shallowly as he rides out his orgasm. 

A minute passes and he separates from you, placing another pillow under your hips. “I’ve seen some studies say it’s better to keep the hips propped up for five minutes after sex to increase chances of fertilization.”  He says. “I’ll be right back.” 

He leaves you alone in the room for a second and you decide to spend that time gathering your thoughts. This could not be good. Spencer just gave you the best sex of your life for what most likely, was going to be a one time thing. You don’t even know how to go about working with him and raising this child knowing what he was like in the sack. This was a bad idea, but it was also a little too late now. 

He comes back in with a cold water bottle, prompting you to drink it which you happily accept. He goes and runs a hand softly through your sweatshined hair. 

“Sorry for… doing that, I know you said it wasn’t necessary before but you seemed close and it felt cruel to just not.” You look at him confused for a second before you realize what he’s saying. 

“Are you…. Apologizing for making me cum?” You ask. Spencer looks down awkwardly for a second. “Spencer, trust me it’s fine. In fact, it’s more than fine. Thank you for this. I know it was less than ideal for you.” 

Spencer playfully ruffles your hair. “It was not as bad as I thought it would be.” 

You roll your eyes at that. “Gee, thanks Casablanca.” 

“You know I didn’t mean it like that.” He laughs. “I should get going.” 

“It’s already late. You could just… stay if you want.” 

“I don’t want to impose--” He starts but you cut him off. 

“Spencer, stay with me.” You say again, looking him in the eyes. “Please.” 

He looks at you back for a second, decoding if you were serious before nodding and crawling into the bed next to you. You immediately turn and toss an arm over his torso. 

“Goodnight, Spencer.” You say. 

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He says back. 

You can almost swear you feel a kiss at the top of your forehead before you drift off but you’re so tired. 

 You probably hallucinated it. 

      Taglist: @moonshinerbynight​ @crimeshowtrash​ @no-honey-no​ @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel​ @chenlemure​ @sizzlingclamturtlesludge​ @tclaerh​ @k-k0129 @takeyourleap-of-faith​ @trashyhipsterfangirl @haylaansmi​ @spencerreidlivesrentfreeinmyhead​ @waspyyy​ @itsametaphorbriansblog​ @octaviaxanadu​ @whxt-to-write​ @meowiemari​ @b99andsoc​ @boba-king-iroh​ @punkndisorderrly​ @richardrosejpeg​ @underratedmisfit​ @gredvb​ @criminalminds4days​ @fanfictionislifetho​ @justpeachykeeeen​ @kopfkinomind @moonchildkei @appleblossoms-posts​ @urguardiandevil​ @cm-imagines-07​ @ajeff855

[fanfics4all]

Malfoy Manor

Request: Yes / No 

Requests are closed <3 Have a nice day/night

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Diggory!Reader 

Word count: 3024

Warnings: Being torchered, brother dying, I believe that’s all 

Y/N: Your Name 

A/N:  Bingo card made by @slyttherins​

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 

Masterlist 

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

“The Hogwarts champion…” Dumbledore called and a piece of parchment flew from the flame. 

“Cedric Diggory!” He said and everyone cheered. I was cheering the loudest, I was so proud of my older brother. 

“Excellent! We now have our three champions! But in the end only one will go down in history. Only one will hoist this chalice of champions, this vessel of victory the Tri-Wizard cup!” Once again people cheered, but the goblet glowed red once again and another singed parchment flew out. Everyone quieted down as Dumbledore grabbed the parchment and read it. 

“Harry Potter.” He said in a hushed tone, but everyone could hear because of how silent the room was. 

“Harry Potter?” He called louder. 

“No...no!” Hagrid expressed. 

“Harry Potter!” Dumbledore shouted. Everyone watched in shock as Harry slowly walked up to the front. Dumbledore gave him the parchment and people started shouting in anger. 

“He’s a cheat! He’s not even seventeen yet!” Someone shouted. My boyfriend Draco was very upset by this. He couldn’t believe Harry was once again being the center of attention. However, he wasn’t the only one. Everyone seemed to be upset that Harry was also a champion. This obviously pleased Draco. 

As much as I liked Harry and he was my friend, Cedric was my brother and I was going to fully cheer for him. The first challenge was to retrieve a golden egg from a dragon. Each competitor was getting a different dragon and I hoped with all my heart that Cedric would be alright. I watched as they brought out a Swedish Short-Snout with the golden egg in place. A cannon went off and everyone watched to see who was first. Cedric walked out and everyone from Hogwarts cheered, just about the whole school was cheering for him. I watched my brother take in his surroundings and he smiled at me. The dragon screamed which brought his attention back to it. He thought quickly and used a Transfiguration spell to change one of the rocks into a dog. The dog barked and brought the dragon’s attention away from my brother. Cedric went for the egg, but the dragon was smart and moved his attention back to him. The dragon shot fire towards him and it hit him in the face. 

“Cedric!” I shouted, fear clear in my voice. Draco pulled me towards him and held me tightly. Cedric didn’t let that stop him and he retrieved the egg. Everyone cheered and they got the dragon under control. Cedric was taken to the hospital wing and Draco and pulled me along to see him. 

The second task was after the Yule Ball, which was a break my brother needed after being burned. Luckily he was alright, but I realized how dangerous these tasks really were. All four of the champions stood at the edge of the platform on the Black Lake. They were told they had to retrieve something that was stolen from them. All four of them jumped into the lake and none of us could really see what was happening beneath the surface. Cedric returned first with his girlfriend Cho. Hogwarts students erupted in cheers when he raised above the water. The two swam to the platform and were pulled up onto it. I hugged Draco and rushed down to my brother. He was first and safe! 

Like the second task, no one knew what was happening during the final task. All four champions had to go into a maze and one would return as the Champion. Cedric and Harry both got a head start since they tied for first last task. The cannon rang and they were off into the maze. 

“Go Cedric!” I cheered as he jogged inside. He turned back to me with a smile as the bushes closed behind him. It wasn’t long before the other two champions joined them in the maze. However it felt like forever until someone returned with the cup. It turned out to be Harry and people cheered. I also cheered for my friend, but my cheers died in my throat as I noticed what he was hunched over. 

“Cedric?” I whispered, catching Draco’s attention. Tears formed in my eyes and I ran down to see my brother. Our Father pushed his way through and he cried, falling to his knees beside him. 

“Cedric?” I asked, also dropping down next to him. I gently shook him, denying that he was dead. 

“Ced? Come on, this isn’t funny!” I cried and shook him a little rough. 

“Y/N, love, he’s not asleep…” Draco said quietly, trying to pull me away. 

“N-No… No! He can’t be!” I cried. 

“How did this happen?” I asked, turning to Harry. 

“Voldemort, he’s back. He killed him.” Harry cried and my eyes widened. That monster killed my brother… Draco pulled me to him as I cried harder. 

I knew that was the start of the war. That wasn’t the year it really started, but that was the year people’s fear really set in. The real start of the war started the summer before year seven. After Cedric died Harry made sure to watch after me. He told me it was my brother’s wish to watch after me. The first few months I didn’t want to be near Harry, but I realized it wasn’t his fault. That’s why when I found out Draco had taken his mark, I ran right to Harry. He became very protective of me after that, but I never actually broke things off with Draco. I still loved him, despite the choice he made. 

Harry took me with Hermione and Ron on his quest to find all the horcruxes. A task given to him before Dumbledore was killed by Snape. Harry told me about how Draco was meant to do it, but couldn’t. I wanted to send him a letter, but that would put us all in jeopardy. However, after a scary meeting with Luna’s Father we apparated somewhere safer. 

“They’ve kidnapped Luna because he supported me. He was just desperate.” Harry reasoned. No one said anything as we all got off the ground. 

“I’ll do the enchantments.” Ron said, taking his wand out. Hermione stopped him, her eyes glanced at the trees and her breathing stopped. The three of us looked the same way she was and our eyes widened. Snatchers came from behind the trees and had smirks on their faces. One of them had Hermione’s scarf around his neck and smelled it. 

“Hello, beautiful.” He said, it was Scabior. All four of us started running, splitting off from one another hoping we wouldn’t get caught. I was unfortunately clumsy and tripped on a tree root, which led to me being caught. The man roughly pulled me to my feet, took my wand, and dragged me with him. We entered a clearing and I was shoved to the ground. Ron was pulled along and also shoved to the ground by another snatcher. Hermione and a messed up looking Harry were already there, now surrounded by snatchers. Scabior took their wands. 

“Don’t touch her!” Ron shouted and Grayback punched him. 

“Stop it!” Hermione begged. 

“Your boyfriend’ll get worse than that if he doesn't behave, lovely.” Scabior said, painting her face with the light from his wand. He turned it towards Harry, it made it really clear how messed up his face actually was. 

“What happened to you, ugly?” He asked. Harry felt his face and now realized what happened. 

“What’s your name?” He asked. 

“Dudely. Vernon Dudley.” Harry answered. 

“Check the list. And you, ginger?” He asked Ron. 

“Stan Shunpile.” Ron lied. 

“Like ‘ell you are. We know skinny Stan. Try again.” He said and Grayback, who was holding Ron down pressed his boot into his neck. 

“Weasley… Barney Weasley.” He strained out. 

“Weasley, eh? Wouldn’t be related to that blood traitor Arthur Weasley, would you?” He asked. 

“Piss off! Arthur Weasley’s ten times the wizard you are!” Ron growled. 

“Worth ten times you if I can find him. Wasn’t you that tipped him off, was it?” He asked. Ron said nothing and the man turned his attention to me. 

“How ‘bout you? What’s your name?” He asked. 

“June Hazel.” I lied. 

“Pretty name, but don’t fit your face.” He said and turned to Hermione. 

“Penelope Clearwater. Half-blood.” She answered. He took her hair in his hand and sniffed it. 

“You smell like vanilla, Penelope. I think you’re going to be my favorite.” He said. 

“I call this one. She smells like strawberries.” The man that grabbed me pulled me up and sniffed my hair. I gulped and held my breath, tears brimming my eyes. 

“There’s no Vernon Dudley on ‘ere.” Another snatcher said. Scabior turned his attention to Harry. 

“Hear that, ugly? The list says you’re lying. How come you don’t want us to know who you are? Hm?” He asked. 

“The list is wrong. I told you who I am-” Scabior put his finger to Harry’s lips, stopping Harry from continuing. His want was probing Harry’s face. 

“Change of plans, boy. We won’t be taking this lot to the Ministry.” He said after a moment. Each one grabbed us, taking out stuff from us as well. They apperated us and suddenly we were at Malfoy Manor… 

Scabior and the others took us past the yew hedges. All of us were scared about what was waiting for us inside the dark looking house. We started slowing down as we neared the gate. Bellatrix, Lucius, and Narcissa Malfoy were on the other side. Scabior grabbed Harry by the arm and pushed his face up against the iron bars. Bellatrix stepped closer. 

“Show me.” She said. Scabior reached up and pushed Harry’s hair off his forehead. Bellatrix pointed her wand, illuminating his face. Slowly a creepy smile appeared on her face. The four of us were taken inside and Bellatrix took Harry. She pushed him down to his knees and waited for Narcissa to return with Draco. He walked into the room with his Mother and my heart clenched. His eyes widened when he saw me. 

“Draco!” His Aunt called, snapping both of us out of our haze. Draco walked towards his Aunt and she pulled Harry up by his hair. 

“Well?” She asked with a hopeful smile. 

“I can’t be sure.” Draco answered after a moment. 

“Look closely son, if we are the ones to hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, everything would be forgiven, all would be as it was, understand?” Lucius said and you could tell they were all scared, but especially Draco. 

“Now we won’t be forgettin who actually caught him. I hope, Mr. Malfoy.” Scabior said. 

“You dare to talk to me like that in my own house!” Lucius shouted. 

“Lucius!” Narcissa scolded him in a whisper and pulled him away from Draco. 

“Don’t be shy, sweetie. Come over.” His Aunt grabbed his hand and pulled him towards Harry. Draco kneeled in front of him and I bit my lip. Please don’t give him up Draco… 

“Now, if this isn’t who we think it is, Draco, and we call him, he’ll kill us all. We need to be absolutely sure.” Bellatrix said. 

“What’s wrong with his face?” Draco asked after a moment of studying Harry. 

“Yes, what is wrong with his face?” Bellatrix asked Scabior.

“He came to us like that. Somethin’ he picked up in the forest I reckon.” Scabior answered. 

“Or ran into a stinging jinx. Was it you dearie?” Bellatrix asked Hermione, walking over to us. 

“Give me her wand, we’ll see what her last spell was.” She said. The three of us looked worried and Bellatrix laughed. 

“Got you.” She said and turned her attention to the snatcher with our wands. 

“What is that?” She asked when she looked at him. 

“Where’d you get that from?” She asked him, referring to the sword. 

“It was in that one’s bag when we searched her, reckon it’s mine now.” He said pointing at me with a smirk. Bellatrix went crazy and started choking the snatchers, making them let go of us. She took the sword as everyone looked on confused and scared. 

“Out! Go!” She shouted at them letting her spells fall. The snatchers ran out, fearing for their lives. 

“Sissy, put the boys and this one in the cellar! I want to have a conversation with this one! Girl to girl!” She shouted and grabbed me. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were dragged down to the cellar by Narcissa and Wormtail. She pushed me onto the floor and got on top of me. 

“That sword is meant to be in my vault in Gringotts. How did you get it?” She hissed.

“What else did you and your friends take from my vault!?” She shouted. 

“We didn’t take anything! Please!  We didn’t take anything!” I begged, crying. 

“I don’t believe you.” She said and moved to my arm, carving something into it with her sharp knife. 

“No! Please! We didn’t take anything!” I screamed in pain. 

“Stop it!” Draco shouted and they turned to me. 

“She said she didn’t take anything, leave her alone!” He said. 

“Draco?” His Mother questioned with a kind, yet waring tone. 

“You care for this one, don’t you?” Bellatrix asked with a smirk. 

“Please, just stop.” Draco begged, his eyes never leaving me. 

“Who is she?” His Aunt asked. 

“She’s my girlfriend…” He admitted. 

“Is she-” 

“Yes, she’s a Pure-blood, please let her go.” He begged, cutting his Father off.

“What’s her family name?” Lucius asked. 

“Diggory.” He answered. 

“A Hufflepuff? Are you Mad? She-” 

“Let her go Bellatrix.” Narcissa said, cutting her husband off. 

“But they were in my vault!” She shouted. 

“Question the goblin then, let her go.” She said, standing her ground. Bellatrix got off me and Draco rushed to help me up. He pulled me off to the side with his parents and sat me in one of the chairs. 

“You’re alright, love.” He whispered as he held me. Ron, Hermione, and Harry suddenly came up the stairs and got Bellatrix’s wand from her. The three of them started fighting with the Malfoys. Bellatrix grabbed me and held her knife to my throat. 

“Stop!” She shouted and everyone looked our way. 

“Drop your wands. I said drop em!” She shouted. The three dropped their wands and everyone was still staring at us. 

“Draco, grab em.” She said and he did as he was told. 

“Well, well, well, look what we have here.” She said, walking closer with her knife still at my throat. 

“It’s Harry Potter.” She said in my ear, but it was loud enough for everyone to hear. 

“He’s all bright, and shiny, and new again.” She said as Harry’s face turned back to normal. 

“Just in time for the Dark Lord.” She said. 

“Call him.” She said, but no one moved. 

“Call him!” She said again, but louder. Draco stayed in his place, so his Father stepped up and revealed his dark mark. He went to call him, but an odd squeaking started happening. Everyone looked up and Dobby was sitting atop the chandelier undoing a screw or something. It suddenly dropped and she pushed me as she ran back to avoid getting hit. I fell to the ground as Ron grabbed Hermione and Harry went to get their wands. Once Draco lost the small battle with Harry he rushed over to me. 

“Are you alright?” He asked as Lucius was shot back by Harry. 

“I’m fine…” I whispered. 

“Stupid elf, you could have killed me!” Bellatrix shouted. 

“Dobby never meant to kill. He only meant to maim or seriously injure.” He said. Narcissa went to shoot a spell at them, but Dobby snapped his fingers and her wand was then in his hands. While everyone was distracted by what Dobby did, Draco pulled me up and out of the room. He took me up to his room and sat me on his bed. 

“Let me see your arm, love.” He whispered. I showed him and saw she had carved ‘Blood Traitor’ into my arm. Tears welled in my eyes as I noticed the blood still falling from my fresh mark. 

“Hey, look at me, it’s not true.” He said, gently caressing my face. 

“But it is though, you know it is.” I whispered. 

“No, not here it isn’t. You can’t let them see that side of you. If I want to keep you safe I either have to let you go or ask you to do something you might never forgive yourself, or me for that matter, for.” He said, his voice breaking. 

“B-But I can’t bear to let you go again. I thought I lost you when I told you the truth…” He whispered. 

“W-What do I have to do to stay?” I whispered. He looked at me with wide eyes. 

“You’d have to take his mark…” He whispered. My heart stopped, but I didn’t know where Harry and the others were. It was either stay with Draco or go out alone…

“If it means I get to stay with you then I will…” I answered. 

“Love, this is serious. I can get you out of here without anyone knowing all you have to do-” I cut him off with a kiss. 

“I can’t lose you again either. I thought you were dead this whole time, I can’t go through that again.” I said, resting my forehead on his. 

“You’ll never forgive me…” He said, letting his tears fall. 

“I’ll always forgive you. I love you Draco Malfoy.” I said. Draco pulled me in for a gentle and loving kiss. Something we both desperately needed. 

“I promise, when all this is over I’m going to get you a ring and give you the perfect life you deserve.” He said and I smiled. 

“As long as you’re in my life, it is perfect.” I said and pecked his lips again. No matter what happens, as long as I still have Draco still in my life everything will be alright. He was the only thing I had left. He was the only one I really needed.

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