#garcia is a ray of sunshine

[milla984]

It's the Great Pumpkin, Spencer Reid

Summary: Spencer and Reader get to spend some quality time together on Halloween

Pairing: virgin!Spencer Reid x fem!reader, virgin!Spencer Reid x plus size Reader

Category: smut (NSFW, 18+, MDNI)

TW/CW: heavy kissing, handjob, fingering, brief mention of an anxiety attack, body image insecurities (both parts)

Word Count: 5.4k

This work is part of the series Spencer Reid, my beloved

“I am officially traumatized,” Penelope blurted out when the end credits rolled on the screen, “remind me to never watch another Halloween movie with you, guys!!”

You could almost hear Spencer squeak in disbelief. “What?! This is a classic!”

She stood up to adjust her skirt, the one with jack-o’-lanterns and spiderwebs arranged in a casual pattern all over the dark fabric, and the bats standing on top of her fuzzy headband wiggled in different directions. 

“Uh–uh, La Dolce Vita is a classic. This is what goes on in the twisted mind of someone who desperately needed a hug and a large cup of hot cocoa with a ton of whipped cream and sprinkles as a child.”

You smiled as you finished loading the dishwasher, amused by the discussion unfolding in your living room; in your heart you were the greatest admirer of Spencer’s ability to conjure up any kind of random information on the spot but the exact moment you saw him open his mouth you knew he was about to make the situation worse.

“In fact, Barker’s grandmother had a fascination with the macabre. She would often tell gruesome stories which she presented as true tales so he grew up with the fear of being murdered in his own house.” 

Garcia gawked and raised a hand in his direction, simultaneously turning your way. “See?! Forgive me if I don’t think that having my entire body ripped apart by giant hooks is the ultimate frontier of pleasure!”

“And I’ll never look at a puzzle box the same way! What if it’s a brain teaser from Hell and there’s one of those chattering monsters inside?” she added and you had to hold back your laughter because Spencer’s perplexed frown was probably one of the cutest and funniest things in the whole world.

The mustache glued to his upper lip and the cravat he wore over a white shirt and black vest were only adding to it so you forced yourself to remain serious. “I’m sorry… pizza and a movie from my dvd collection were all I had to offer on such short notice,” you said, to which she replied by shaking her long, wavy hair.

“Oh no, sweet pea! You did great, I’m just too attached to the illusion that life is a rainbow to be into the traditional Halloween gore,” she sighed and wrapped herself in a colorful poncho. “Hey, Raven Man! Ready to leave?”

Spencer squirmed: an IQ of 187 and still he was unable to come up with a semi-plausible lie when it came to hiding the truth from his friends. Feeling the weight of her curious stare he swallowed nervously.

“I was kind of considering the possibility of going to the midnight screening of Nosferatu, at the Silver Theatre. It’s the 100th anniversary so the Silent Orchestra will play the entire score live, have you ever heard of them? They use contemporary musical idioms to convey the art of pre-talkies films to modern audiences, they’ve been widely acclaimed for their work.”

Penelope raised an eyebrow. “Midnight screening, huh?! Which means you don’t need a ride home… what a coincidence,” she teased, leaning forward to squeeze you in a passionate hug. “I knew it! I saw it the minute I walked in!”

This time was your turn to shrug with a puzzled expression: Reid and Garcia should have been on the opposite side of D.C. for a relaxed dinner at the Morgans’ after a thorough raid of all the neighborhood porches. However, Derek had called just as they were getting in the car to inform them that Hank got unexpectedly sick and forty-five minutes later All Hallows’ Eve enthusiast Reid (dressed up as Edgar Allan Poe) plus a very concerned Penelope had showed up at your apartment, making you wonder why on earth wasn’t she already busy baking since she kept repeating chickenpox called for the best pumpkin pie ever.

“Well, there goes our plan to keep a low profile,” you groaned as you closed the door behind her, and Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise. 

“How…?! Is this what they call ‘female intuition’?”

“Call it whatever you want but I’m glad she’s not mad we didn’t tell her right away,” you replied, proceeding to wrap your arms around his shoulders, “and I can think of another person who’s probably very happy for you, now.”

Spencer got rid of the fake mustache with a pensive stare. When it finally dawned on him that Garcia’s phone buzzing during your impromptu horror-themed movie night had in fact started out as live updates on their godson’s health and most likely turned into a gossip session about you two as a couple he squinted.

“I almost bailed on going trick-or-treating with them. I didn’t because I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, but I also wanted to see you. It’s our first Halloween.”

You nodded. “Maybe we can still get tickets for Nosferatu. You’re a terrible liar, so I’m sure there really is a midnight screening at the Silver Theatre.”

Spencer stared at you, entranced, then pulled you closer and in a heartbeat your lips met his - a sweet caress, tender and soft, your breaths entwined and your noses rubbing against each other in delicate strokes. You gave him a gentle push and he plopped down on the couch as you placed one knee on either side of his legs to straddle him; one of his hands sneaked behind you, exploring you as if he was trying to blindly map your whole back. 

You felt his other hand on your waist, hesitant. 

Three months had passed since the day you both came to the conclusion you were not “just friends” - three months made of late night phone calls from six different States, of handwritten silly notes you hid in his leather bag each time you drove him to the airport to catch a flight for Houston, three months of you hoping things would eventually move past the PG rated phase.

Three months of your self-consciousness sowing the seed of doubt in your heart, encouraged by the notion of whom he got to share his workspace with: you were no Emily or JJ and even if Spencer wasn’t the type to pay attention to details he frequently referred to as ‘trivial’ you were growing less and less confident.

“It’s fine, you can touch me,” you whispered, guiding his palm to cup your breast. They were pretty difficult to ignore, nevertheless he always seemed to steer away from them as much as he could.

You ran your fingers through his hair until you grabbed a small chunk of his curls; Spencer gasped for air and you brushed your tongue over his lower lip, letting out a muffled moan when the heat between your legs became almost unbearable. You started grinding on his lap to adjust tightly against his body.

“Wait…” he whined, squirming under you.

A second moan escaped from your throat while the pressure of his stiff cock hit your thigh but he shoved you away to free himself and spring to his feet, shaking heavily as if he was experiencing a full blown anxiety attack. 

His cheeks were flustered and his hair stuck to his dampened forehead so that he couldn’t even look at you straight - which gave him the perfect excuse to avoid doing it altogether. “I– I’m sorry…”

“No, no, I am…” you muttered, because the guilt building up in your chest felt so heavy you find it difficult to breathe.

Spencer was standing there, fumbling nervously with the cravat around his neck; his body language was screaming discomfort and he was clearly thinking of an excuse to remove himself from the situation. It was then that the hidden and irrational side of you, the one that desperately feared he would have disappeared forever if you’d let him go, kicked in and a rush of adrenaline came running down your spine.

“Please…” you continued, placing a hand over his, “it’s okay, really… there’s no way to control it, you should know better than anyone—”

“Why? Because I’m a man and men are supposed to have zero impulse regulation?!”

The embarrassment and shame in his voice broke you: you had sworn a thousand times in your mind to do your best to be his solace, yet now it seemed you were hurting him like no-one had ever done before.

“No,” you replied, “because you’re the genius, here, and you should know it’s a perfectly healthy and natural reaction.”

He huffed, visibly irritated at what he must have perceived as a patronizing tone. A different sort of emotion crawled under your skin, sparked by the amount of tension stagnating in the air.

You offered him a cushion and glanced at him with your usual no-nonsense attitude. “Sit down, so we can have a proper conversation? You know, like… functioning adults.”

Spencer pouted for a second, evaluating numbers and statistics about two years and a half’s worth of interactions. The truth was, intellectual affinity was such a familiar concept for the two of you that talking your way through an issue was indeed a synonym for a positive outcome. 

He grabbed the cushion and held it onto his stomach to shield himself from your gaze, though it was purposely focused on his face; you thought it was best to put some distance between your bodies when he sat on the couch again so you folded your legs underneath you, shivering like a cold draft had found its way inside the room.

“Listen, we can both agree this is not your regular, everyday casual topic of conversation… which is why we’ve never discussed premarital sex—”

“I’m not against it,” Spencer rushed to declare, “I’ve assumed it was the same for—”

“Sure, no! Ditto,” you confirmed.

His furrowed brows relaxed while his mouth curved in a timid smile. “Did you know that every person’s intimate relationships follow a script that has been written according to their own individual attitude towards all –uhm, sexual experiences?”

“I did not,” you admitted, and Spencer’s hands started dancing to the sound of his own words. 

“There are sets of guidelines for appropriate behavior, each partner in consensual encounters acts as if they are an actor following a script rather than acting on impulse alone. Researches indicate that women are more likely to initiate contact in well established relationships, negotiating sexual activity in developing relationships can be difficult 'cause both parts have multiple goals to deal with, such as providing relational definitions or following specific standards or morals.”

“Yeah, speaking about relationships… I think we’ve been in one since Christmas, we were just too dumb to say it out loud. And to each other,” you explained. “Sounds like a well-established to me but what’s your take on us?”

He curled into himself. “Every time we’re together I know there’s no other place I’d rather be. I’ve never even imagined it could be possible, I want to feel you even closer… and I’m so afraid I’m forcing this on you—”

“You’re not, I want it too,” you reassured him, “but to be honest I was starting to worry you were not into… me.”

Spencer’s beautiful eyes roamed over you and what you could see was all but repulsion. “Actually it’s the complete opposite.”

“So, what if my script says I’m ready to take things further?” you inquired, inching towards him to tug at the cravat of his costume. 

Spencer cupped your face and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Mine is on the same page,” he whispered.

Your fingers immediately went to the vest he was wearing and trailed the line of buttons in a slow movement; you undid them one by one, the hems eventually coming apart to reveal the white shirt underneath.

“Tell me if anything doesn’t feel good,” you purred while you loosened the cravat to uncover his Adam’s apple. The way his muscles tensed as it bobbed up and down drove you crazy, so you teased him with the tip of your tongue - your lips grazing over the short stubble. 

Damn him and his impeccable bone structure: the scruffy look suited him so well it always sparked in you the urge to pin him to a wall and sink your teeth into his tender flesh. You loved how he could sport a smooth, professional style when the situation required it still wasn’t concerned with shaving each morning, almost as if it was an impractical activity which took energy away from whatever he considered to be a priority at that moment. 

You heard something flop on the floor and stopped your ministrations: the cushion he’d been holding over his stomach wasn’t there anymore, meaning you got to notice his trousers were becoming increasingly tight.

You squeezed his knee to make sure he was prepared for a more intimate contact then you slid it even further on his leg, giving him a couple of minutes to adjust to your gentle strokes before you felt confident enough to move the action to his inner thigh.

Spencer gasped, surprised rather than shocked or disturbed by how close you were now to where he was aching, and he leaned back to ease the pressure of the fabric but kept his eyes on you. 

He gave a silent nod in response to your interrogative stare, so you finally traced the outline of his hard cock between your thumb and index.

He jolted this time and muttered under his breath, a deep rasp in his voice you didn’t expect: you were unprepared to hear your name spoken as it was the quintessence of pure desire and you quivered, the throbbing in your ears rolling to your core.

You kissed his temple as you pointed at the waistband of his trousers. “Can I…?”

“Y– yes…” he muttered.

His clothes didn’t have any space left to accommodate his bulge. You palmed over it and felt an impatient twitch, which nearly had Spencer cursing; it was becoming torture for him so you reached for the zipper. 

For a split second the historical inaccuracy of a Victorian era costume featuring a device first introduced years after Edgar Allan Poe’s death hit you - a remark Reid himself would have been very appreciative of, which showed how much you could relate to the way his brain worked. Then you shook out of it and peeled his slacks open.

You crumpled the shirt over his stomach and marveled at the sight of his soft belly, the flawless navel, the dark fuzz pointing directly to his raging erection. With a cautious approach you freed it from any restraint, chewing on your lower lip as you often did when you were entirely focused on a challenging task. 

You couldn’t exactly say you had many options in your mind to compare him to but you had done a lot of fantasizing: now that he was in front of you, undressed and defenseless, you were downright mesmerized by—

“What’s wrong?!” Spencer screeched, interrupting your train of thought. “Is it odd? Does it look odd?!”

You shook your head, taken aback. “... odd?! No, why?!” you asked. “It’s just…” you petted the roundness to demonstrate, “I like your tummy so much.”

The way it pressed against his belt whenever he sat next to you on your couch or his was overly inviting and in the past weeks you had to fight the temptation to sneak a hand inside his shirt to squish it, because you didn’t know how he would’ve reacted. 

“Really?!” he marveled, confirming he wasn’t even aware you had a thing for soft tummies. His soft tummy, to be specific.

You smiled and leaned forward to rest your forehead against his. “Are you okay with me doing this?”

Spencer nodded, his eyelids half-closed, so you let your fingertips follow the trail of hair below his belly button; his hardness twitched again when you got near, then you wrapped your hand around it. 

You both moaned in unison, a harmony of pleasure that filled the silence of your living room. You moved along his entire length, feeling the satiny skin sliding over the shaft, and he threw his hair back in a movement that left his jugular exposed: his neck was too inviting and you sucked on it, the groans vibrating in his throat reverberating on your lips.

You gripped tighter when he got used to your caresses. As soon as his muffled whimpers seemed to increase in frequency you circled your thumb over the tip, spreading his leaking precum over the sensitive head. Spencer was at loss for words, a good indication that he was definitely enjoying the moment.

You were enjoying it too; you started to rub your legs together, your imagination running wild and picturing all sorts of scenarios. The mere thought of having him inside of you made you want to touch yourself but you resisted: Spencer was undoubtedly new to this and deserved someone in his life to love him and shower him with attention, so you decided to put his release before your own.

When you twisted your hand at the base of his cock he jumped, missing the bridge of your nose by a few inches.

“Too much?!” you cooed, and he seemed to come out of a sort of drunken stupor.

“No, no… it’s good, I like it…”

You sighed. “Spence, you have to tell me if—”

“It’s really good,” he replied, the urgency sensible in his tone. “Don’t stop,” he pleaded, low-key ashamed of how needy he’d sounded.

You pecked him on the nose as a reassurance you accepted and cherished this version of him: he wasn’t the kind of man to be interested in the crude physical aspect of sex, he’d made it clear. He wasn’t desperate for just anyone to satisfy him - he trusted you to do it, because he knew you were safe in each other’s arms.

You shifted to adjust at his side and returned to your previous occupation; you let your other hand wander over his thigh as a forewarning, then you sheepishly cupped his balls so you could provide additional stimulation and send him over the edge.

He bucked his hips, a loud “Oh, God!!!” escaping from his mouth before he grasped a fistful of your hair. He was hungry for you, his tongue sliding lustfully against yours and his breathing so ragged you were sure he was getting close. 

Kissing him was your drug of choice but you also wanted to watch him come undone, thanks to you, so you turned your head while he tensed: he arched his back and bucked his hips once more, nipping at your earlobe. He became harder as he spilled himself over your fingers, wrist and his own stomach with a feral growl.

You didn’t let go of him, not even when his whole body finally slumped down.

The well-defined jaw and unruly curls falling on his face, now so serene, made him appear like a Botticellian masterpiece. Botticelli would have never painted one of his subjects in such a disheveled state, for sure, but the contrast between his angelic aura and the fact he was sprawled on the couch with his trousers unzipped and his softening cock still in your hand was a vision to behold.

“Hey,” you hummed as he re-opened his eyes and found you looking at him, “you’re too cute to be real, you know that?!”

Embarrassed - yet adorably proud - Spencer lowered his gaze, only to grimace at the stickiness on his belly. And on you. “I made a mess, I’m s—”

“We made a mess. Besides, it’s nothing a towel can’t fix, don’t be sorry,” you said, patting his tummy.

You were almost tempted to ask him how long he’d been saving it for, in a clumsy attempt to remind him you’d fallen so head over heels for him you were not at all grossed out; at the last moment you ruled the joke out, though, stretching your legs to get up instead. “Give me a couple of minutes.”

He flashed you the most awkward smile and you forced your feet to move towards the bathroom. 

You washed your hands under the hot running water and silently watched a part of Spencer swirling down the drain; the floral scent of the soap was now in the air but you could still feel his - coffee and cologne, accentuated by the faint traces of sweat on his skin. 

You had just discovered something new: Spencer was often oblivious of how good he looked (despite the dark circles under his eyes) and that was no mystery, but the idea he might have been insecure about different parts of his body was something you’d never taken into account. If being a couple was the natural consequence of the emotional bond between you - rather than a result of some physical infatuation alone - why was he so preoccupied with your reaction to his half-naked self?

Your brain was going in severe overdrive. 

You inhaled and exhaled a couple of times, your fingers gripping on the honed marble of the countertop, then you dried your hands with a towel, grabbed a fresh one and returned to the living room; the instant you approached your couch you realized Spencer had been doing a lot of thinking of his own, and your heart sank into your stomach.

“Wunderkind, are you alright?” you questioned as you offered him the towel so that he could clean himself up. “What’s going on in here?” you added, tapping lightly on his temple.

He shrugged and proceeded to meticulously remove any trace of his seed from his belly and clothes before tucking the shirt into the waistband of his trousers. “Nothing special.”

His left eyebrow raised, due to an involuntary movement of his facial muscles: it was a flash, a glimpse, the undeniable proof he was hiding something. The sound of your intrusive thoughts and fears got so loud you wanted to scream to cover their noise.

“Your microexpressions say otherwise,” you retorted.

Spencer lifted his head to meet your eyes, mouth agape, and you couldn’t decipher the meaning of such a bewildered reaction. You had always been able to recognize his lying frown, his anxious smile, the suspicious squint and a hundred more variations: you were not a member of the BAU but you were an expert on detecting and classifying his emotions, yet you’d never seen that one before. 

“It’s… uhm, I’m wondering if it was good for you.”

Your heart leaped and bounced back where it belonged. His job required him to be the one calling people out on their behavior, not the other way round; your presence in his life forced him to face a situation in which his skills as a profiler couldn’t shield him from his own vulnerability, so he was in serious need of some consolation.

You bent over to whisper in his ear. “It was.”

“But you didn’t...” he nervously licked his lips, “and I want you to. Just tell me how.”

In the back of your mind you were 100% sure it would have been the right moment to confess you’d been harboring a few insecurities of your own but your fight-flight-freeze response was already answering on your behalf, making you freeze on the spot.

“Spencer…”

“You don’t think I can?!” he inquired, still convinced his lack of experience was the motivation behind any episode of miscommunication. 

“NO! It’s not about you,” you responded in a hurry, hugging him as he was still seated on the couch. “Or maybe it is… ” you gestured to your whole figure, “I guess I’m a bit worried this isn’t what—”

Spencer wrapped you in an equally sweet hug, his chin dimple pressed on your abdomen. “This is soft,” his hands ran to the back of your knees, trailing up, “it’s so soft I’ve got only one thing in mind every time you hug me and I have to stop myself…”

He stopped talking mid-sentence when you guided his palms over your chest and he finally laughed, fascinated by the feeling of your breasts through the shirt.

If he was so happy at the idea you were starving for his touch and was clearly eager to reciprocate it was time to consider the strong possibility he wasn’t just settling for less. “Do you really—”

“Yes!” he replied, enthusiastically. “But I could use a few hints, you know.”

You knew. “May I sit on your lap, kind sir?”

The ‘are you even serious?’ pout on his face deserved an award; now you were both allowed to act silly without the slightest concern one of you was making fun of the other, high on the intoxicating concept of true intimacy.

You positioned yourself so that you were seated on his groin, your back flat on his chest and your head nestled in the crook of his neck, thanking Mother Nature for the existence of refractory periods. Not that it was necessary, but Spencer hooked his left forearm around your waist to secure you as his tongue glided over the soft skin behind your ear. “How do I start?”

“Step one: make some space,” you tipped him.

He gulped loudly and began to caress your knee, ghosting his fingers along the thigh-bone. You shivered in anticipation and when he tried to reach for your inner thigh you spread your legs apart; he flattened his palm, gripping on your muscles and rubbing back and forth - still keeping some distance from your most delicate spots. 

You turned to offer him your lips. “Tease me… up and down, light touches.”

He did as he was told. When he ran the back of his hand over your mound you whimpered, the oversensitivity being too much to bear combined with the mind-blowing taste of his mouth over yours.

“Isn’t it frustrating for you?” he managed to articulate in between kisses and you rocked your hips against him.

You could already feel the familiar and insistent throbbing, accentuated by the fact that delayed gratification was a real pain; you were dying for him to placate the fire his hard cock had sparked in you, so you grabbed his wrist and guided it over your stomach, down the front of your panties.

He gasped at the feeling of your tender flesh, the curly hair, the dampness - too many sensory inputs to process all at once. “You’re so… warm?”

“Core body temperature is higher than the temperature of the skin,” you reminded him. 

“So warm,” he kept repeating, basic biology facts lost on him because his brain seemed to have switched off. 

His palm grazed over your folds and your legs fell further open to give him better access; you stroked his left forearm and tilted your head back. “Only two fingers now, Spence… up and down. But don’t go straight for—”

You tensed when his fingertips danced on your clit and he gripped you even tighter. “Sorry,” he mumbled, but the sensation was so good you could only smile.

“If you plan to go there it’s left and right. And draw a few circles around, big and small...” you explained before words turned into muffled moans as he put your suggestions into actions.

You were still grinding on his lap, your back glued to his chest, and he took advantage of the proximity to trap your earlobe between his teeth, sucking lightly at each change of the pattern he was tracing.

You squeezed his wrist when the flame inside of you grew fiercer. “You can slip your finger in if you want.”

Spencer let go of your earlobe and paused. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve been thinking about it for weeks,” you admitted, the weight of your secret vanishing in the air like a puff of smoke.

He sighed and shifted underneath you; just as you were ready to tell him he didn’t have to if he wasn’t comfortable with the idea he slid his middle finger past your entrance and you shuddered in his embrace. His hands were elegant, veiny, and his slender digits made for playing piano or reaching your hidden crevices - you had no doubts about it, but judging by how he was sitting still he had more than one question regarding what to do with them.

“How do I feel? Spence...?”

Even if you couldn’t really see his face, you knew he had a confused-slash-excited look on. “Hot… and wet, I never thought—”  

“You like it?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?!” he asked in the cutest high-pitched tone and you laughed, making you both wince at the sudden movement. 

All the words in any existent language put together couldn’t describe the amount of affection you had for him. “I like it, Spence,” you hummed, “and it would be even better if you tried curling your fin— FUCK!” 

Spencer wasn’t one to waste time once he was given a specific instruction.

He pushed his finger forward and curled it as you said, gliding in and out to slowly familiarize himself with the different textures of your inner walls. He adopted a very empirical approach, experimenting several techniques based on what he’d learned not so long before, while you whimpered and moaned his name; he was moaning, too, and so prettily you couldn’t control yourself.

“Spence, I need more…” 

He nipped at your jaw, his long hair tickling your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t, I promise”, you panted, almost out of breath.

When he slipped a second finger in you realized that his arm wrapped around your waist was the only thing still keeping you in place: your legs were giving up on you, your hips swayed to let Spencer’s fingers plunge deeper as your back arched and your fists closed around his clothes. He was pumping relentlessly, overwhelmed by your wetness and the way you were taking him inside like he was a missing part of your own body; he tried to reach for your mouth and you turned to grasp the nape of his neck.

“Your hands are perfect,” you whined, “you are perfect…”

He huffed, his heart pounding fast. “Are you…?”

“Please... make me come, Spence,” you begged him in a whisper.

He pressed his thumb on your clit and started alternating between rough circling motions and the upward movement of his fingers, as you bucked your hips at a frantic pace; your thighs muscles contracted, you clenched around him and you ears plugged as you climaxed - something that had never happened to you before.

You tugged at his hair and screamed his name, before settling against his body once the tension faded. 

He kept his fingers inside and he cuddled you throughout the aftermath of your orgasm, planting butterfly kisses wherever his mouth could reach and cradling you like his only mission in life was making you feel safe and protected. 

Your self-consciousness awoke first, despite the rush of feel-good hormones flowing in your bloodstream.

“Am I crushing you…?” you mumbled, and he grunted as you wriggled free to lean forward and pick up the towel from the floor. 

He stared at his wet fingers with a pensive frown, then he wiped them clean and turned to face you - now seated on the couch with your legs across his and your forearm rested on his shoulder, so that you could play with his curls. 

“Doctor, you deserve a gold star for your performance.”

He smiled and lowered his gaze for a second. “I’m very good at following instructions.”

“You’re not bad at improvising, either,” you pointed out, “the thing you did with your thumb…?”

“I figured it was only a matter of combining the exact pressure and the right angle. Technically speaking—”

“Spencer?!” you cut him off, before he could lose himself in his own rambling. “Thank you,” you added, kissing him lightly on his lips before you stood up to fix your panties and trousers. “You can tell me all about the mechanics behind one of the best orgasms of my life on our way.”

“Nosferatu. First Halloween together…?” you elaborated when he looked at you in total confusion. “You’ve changed your mind.”

He shifted on the couch, his hazel eyes fixed on you. “Is that okay?”

This time you looked at him with your best ‘is ice cream cold?’ frown: you wanted to spend eternity with him, not just an hour or two more. You climbed into his lap and tangled your fingers in his hair while he cupped your breasts.

“What if I get…? I mean... again?!”

“Well, it’s not going to happen right now, Professor!!" you snorted, and his giggle sounded like celestial music. "But don’t worry, we’ve got the whole night."

NB: I'm not using my regular taglist for Spencer Reid smut fics but I'm obviously tagging only the users who sent a request. If you wish to be added you can send me an ask or leave a comment below with the request to be added.

[sqwishywrites34]

Stay Away From My Son

A/N: Being the longtime lover of Criminal Minds I am,, I’m making a full fic from a TikTok scene I made lol I had this whole big scenario in mind for it so I decided I’d expand on it here. Have some Team Dad!Hotch and Team Son/Little Brother!Spencer

disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or it’s characters, they belong to Jeff Davis

Characters: Aaron “Hotch” Hotchner, Spencer Reid, Jennifer “JJ” Jereau, Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, David Rossi, Penelope Garcia, Original Male Character(s)

WARNINGS: groping, grinding, spicy content(not smut)(lime? maybe?), weapons, swearing, probably bad writing, attempted present tense(not what I’m used to but I’ll try ;-;)

As much as Hotch didn’t like- no, detested sending one of his own into danger without proper protection, it couldn’t be helped. He couldn’t even send Reid in there with a gun, he’ll have to rely on the younger’s acting skills to keep him safe. They’d figured out the Unsub’s identity and got all the evidence they need to convict him and his current location, which also happens to be his hunting ground. He works at a gay nightclub as a bartender, a job that wouldn’t make it suspicious if he flirted with the patrons.

His type is Twinks, especially first timers that fell for his charms and would willingly follow him out back where he would have sex with them before drugging them and taking them to his place, an apartment above the club. Now, to lure him out to avoid putting civilians in danger and as to not scare them, they sent Reid in undercover.

Spencer, in a brightly colored, loose fitting crop top with very short jean shorts the rest of his legs in fishnet and chunky heeled combat boots, light makeup on his eyes and glittery cheeks makes his way into the club. Garcia has their computers queued up with the security feed inside the club, All their eyes trained on Reid and Lukas Mertins, their Unsub. Spencer makes his way through the crowd, blending in and letting the larger men grab on his hips and rub up on him, the other smaller-statured men dancing up against him as a show for the others. Finally, he makes it to the bar and sits down, panting and excitedly and nervously looking back at the crowds, fitting into his role perfectly.

Lukas takes the bait instantly and looks Spencer up and down like a Lion about to pounce on an injured Gazelle. He slides his way to Spencer, startling him with an introduction.

“Hey, there. I haven’t seen you around. Newcomer?” He asks, deepening his voice as to be alluring.

“Oh, yea! I just moved here from Wyoming!” He yells over the booming music, “I’m Callum!” He sends a charming grin to the man.

“What’s your poison? Gin? Tequila? No, you strike me as a Sex on The Beach kind of guy!” Lukas sends a wink at Spencer, confidence radiating off of him.

“How’d you know?” Spencer grins back at him with that amused surprise Lukas was expecting.

“Little bartenders’ secret, cutie, maybe I’ll teach you some time,” he speaks as he begins making the drink, when he notices Spencer taking out his wallet, “oh, no! You put that away! First timer’s get their first drink on the house!”

“Really? Are you sure?” The easy conversation continues on before another twink runs up and all but drags Spencer back to the dance floor as if they knew each other forever. Lukas keeps his eyes on “Callum” the whole time, clearly taking the shine to him that everyone had hoped(and dreaded).

Spencer makes his way back to the bar, giggling and panting as he returns to his flirtatious conversations with the Unsub.

“Hey, Callum, do you wanna get outta here? My shift just ended.” Lukas leans in close to say the words directly into Spencer’s ear.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Spencer sends a lustful smile at him, his lip between his teeth. Smirking, Lukas jerks his head to gesture Spencer to follow him to the back which lead to the alleyway.

Before they even cross the door’s threshold, Lukas has his lips against Spencer’s, his tongue damn near down his throat. As he gets them out the door, the loud slam resonating through the speaker, his hands are firmly gripping Spencer’s ass, kneading and landing the occasional slap.

Spencer’s hands are lost in Lukas’ hair as the larger man backs him up against the brick wall. Patting his ass, Lukas gets Spencer to jump and wrap his legs around his waist. Holding Spencer up with his own body and the legs around his waist, he begins grinding against him, moving to attach his lips to the brunette’s neck.

“Fuck, baby, you taste so fuckin’ good,” his hand slides up Spencer’s body and plays with his nipple, coaxing moans from the twink in his arms.

“Lukas Mertins! FBI! Get on the ground with your hands behind your head!” Hotch yells at the man, all too eagerly as the team notices. The blonde immediately drops Spencer though he doesn’t let him get away. Mertins wraps his arm around his neck, holding him flush against his body, pulling a pocket knife from his slacks and presses it tightly against Spencer’s throat in retaliation to the guns aimed at him with 5 accompanying death glares.

“I don’t fuckin’ think so. You back the fuck off or I’m taking this slut out.” He hisses out and glares directly at Hotch.

“Hang on there, Reid.” Morgan calls out to said agent when he sees the flash of panic that appears for no more than a few seconds.

“Let him go, Mertins. You’re not getting out of this.” Hotch all but growls out, sending quick glances at Spencer to ensure he’s alright.

“I beg to differ-” Before he could finish, Hotch fires a shot into his shoulder, making him drop the knife and release Reid to cradle his injury as he stumbled to the ground, grunting and growling in rage.

“Then beg.” Hotch snarls, grabbing the jacket they had grabbed for Reid and hurrying to put it around his shoulders, Prentiss coming forward to pull him into her side both for warmth and a sense of protection, while Morgan happily forces Mertins’ arms behind his back. If he accidentally tugs just a bit too hard on the arm Hotch shot, then no one mentions it. Nor do they mention if he just so happens to grab onto the same shoulder to bring him to his feet.

“Least you can do is have the twink suck me off.” He sneers, nodding at Reid.

“That what you think he is? Some twink?” Hotch squints challengingly at the man, daring him to go on.

“He gave me blue balls.” With that, his glare is directed at Reid who only barely shows any of his discomfort, though enough to have Hotch pissed at the man before him.

“Did he?” He feigns surprise and sympathy as he slowly takes the 3 steps forward. Suddenly, in a flash of barely a second, his knee rises to meet Mertins’ crotch, a deep grimace returning as the Unsub groans and collapses to his knees as he curls in on himself. “Now they’re black and blue balls.”

The whole team says nothing as they watch the scene and make not a move to intervene, though some are wearing smirks at Hotch’s display of protectiveness.

“And you say you’re not the dad.” Prentiss, still with a slightly shivering Reid in her arms, teases. Hotch glances back at her, a glare with no heat behind it playing on his features, though he says nothing.

No one says a word but they all notice his lack of denial.

Emily leaves Spencer with a quick squeeze as she goes to take Mertins from Morgan when they begin to head back to the vehicles.

“Hey, you okay, kid?” Derek asks, pulling Spencer into his side for side hug for comfort and to provide some warmth.

“Yea, or well, I will be. Once I can brush my teeth.” Spencer’s answer prompts a chuckle from most of the team and a soft grin from Hotch, who’s just relieved Spencer is alright.

“That was impressive, you know. I don’t know many people who could keep their cool in a situation like that.” Dave smiles at him and gently touches his shoulder as he passes to one of the SUVs.

“He’s right, Spence, that was really brave.” JJ offers gently, a smile on her face she usually reserves for her sons.

“Bravest twink I ever met,” Emily teases, a playful and kind smile on her lips that Spencer can’t resist returning.

Once everyone gathers into their respective SUVs, they begin the drive back to the station to firstly get Spencer back into his own clothes and to pack up to head home. Hotch takes to sitting in the back with Spencer as Emily drives, holding Spencer as he’s still shivering; as well as for his own peace of mind to ensure he’s safe, not that he’ll admit that out loud.

“That was impressive, you did very well,” Hotch sends a small, proud smile to him, though it soon turns to slight worry, “are you okay, though? That was a lot.” Spencer smiles at the concern, really seeing his “Dad Mode” as the team calls it.

“I’m okay. I’ll be much more comfortable in clothes with more coverage and some mouthwash, but I’m alright, right now.” Nearly the moment he finishes his sentence Emily’s phone blares to life, flashing with Penelope’s contact.

“Hey, what’s up, Garcia?” Emily announces into the phone, signaling she’s on speaker.

“Oh my sweet Boy Wonder! How are you?! Are you okay?! That was amazing! I didn’t know you could move like that! I’m definitely taking you the next time I go dancing! Please tell me someone punched that guy in the dick! Did he hurt you?! Be ready for a hug the moment you get back!!” She rushes, hardly taking a breath between sentences, making Emily and Spencer laugh and Hotch lightly chuckle with a fond smile.

“I’m alright, I promise. We’ll see about that dancing. Don’t worry, his genitals did not leave unscathed. And I’m looking forward to it, Penelope.” Spencer stays grinning throughout his update.

“Good! And, see, this is why I’m not in the field! No one messes with my Beautiful Boy Wonder! He wouldn’t be walking away at all if I was there!” She lets out her mini rant, adding in more bits of her protectiveness of him, in particular of the team, before she eventually hangs up.

They get back to the station, wrap everything up, get Spencer back into his own clothes, and bid adieu to the local enforcement and climb on the jet.

Spencer’s still low body temperature is making him tired, which he tries to explain the science behind as he’s floating in and out of consciousness. Hotch, who’s sitting beside him, smiles fondly at his habits and lightly directs his head to lean on his shoulder, where the Doctor promptly falls asleep.

The team, expectedly, grins at the sight and Derek and Emily immediately jump at the chance to take pictures, most of which sport a Hotch glancing at the camera with an amused smirk.

“Still not ‘the Dad’?” JJ smirks at Hotch over her book, gesturing with a quick glance at the man on his shoulder.

A defeated smile on his lips, Hotch huffs a silent chuckle, “No comment.”

[pedroias]

Top tier Rangers

[an-over-educated-woman]

"That's my type!" -Saweetie (Pt.2)

Ofc I'd make a Part 2 for all my favorite blonde girlies!

[whiskeyghoul]

She blinded me with science || [Spencer Reid x Goth!Reader] Pt2.

Read part 1 here

Read part 3 here

A/N: OMG I can’t believe how much people enjoyed part 1? Seriously, as I am finishing this part up it has reached over 500 notes, I am shocked and so very thankful for the love. I didn’t expect it. A silly little fic not proof read, totally self indulgent, really this is so wonderful and I appreciate everyone who has taken the time to read it and reblog, like or comment on it. I hope part 2 doesn’t disappoint. Part 3 is going to be here soon too, which will be the unofficial date.

WC: 1,9K ~

Tags: Fluff, just fluff, Spencer is a flustered mess, Alt!Reader, Goth!Reader, 2 idiots flirting, Reader and Penelope are besties, use of Y/N, Penelope has been playing matchmaker, alluding to a date, crushes.

Warnings: None. 

Your pov.

It was a late Sunday afternoon. You were sitting on Penelope Garcia’s couch, cup of hot tea in hand. Legs curled up on the couch with a colorful blanket over your lap. It clashed just ever so slightly with your dark outfit. The two of you are in complete contrast to each other. Penelope was a ball of color in a bright purple dress with a lemon pattern, large yellow earrings and a blue bolero sweater. Compared to your all black ensemble she was a ray of sunshine. An array of snacks spread out over the coffee table. The aforementioned peppy blonde was sitting next to you on the couch. Deeply engrossed with the romance show playing on the TV. You watched it together every Sunday, when a new episode would come out. Today your mind was somewhere else completely.

“He hasn’t called yet.” You spoke up. Penelope eyed you curiously, “Who?” She asked, her focus gone from the show. Her eyes peered at you with interest from behind the cat eye glasses she had picked out that day. “Doctor Reid.” You turned your head back to the TV casually, trying to not seem bothered. You could hear Penelope hold back a small squeal. It sounded more like a gasp that way. “Oh my god! Are you interested in him? What did he do to impress you? I have been trying to set you up for ages! You have shot down any person I have discussed with you. Always something wrong.” She started rambling, hearing the clink of her glass being put on the coffee table. Her hands grabbed yours, making you look back at her and rolling your eyes. “Firstly: I am not ‘interested’ in him. Secondly: I just thought he would have called by now. Or stopped by at least.” You shrugged noncommittally. You were just a little interested. Thinking back to that meeting.

When Spencer had stepped into the lab earlier that week, courtesy of Penelope, you had found his awkward demeanor endearing. He was hot, that was for sure, and tall, you remembered having to look up at him, Those dark brown eyes pinning you in place. Especially when you had stood so close together. You had wanted to tease him after watching him stumble over his sentences. See him even more flustered. It made you somewhat excited. When you had given him your number you could feel his pulse racing under his skin. He had shown many signs of being interested yet he hadn’t even texted you. It made you rethink the interaction. 

“Well, he couldn’t have stopped by. They got called on a case in Utah so he’s not really in the area right now.” Penelope clarified. Those words put your mind at ease more than you expected them to. “Oh, I guess he can’t really get to the lab then.” You shrugged. Just a little disappointed but feeling relieved that apparently he hadn’t meant to not visit you. Or maybe he had done so on purpose if he would be close. Your earlier relief was replaced by a mild panic again. Trying to convince yourself you weren’t interested in Dr. Reid. Although, he could have texted.

You could practically feel Penelope smirk as you turned your attention back on the TV. Unable to focus but pretending to. “Spence is not one for texting. He probably has been getting to the hotel at ungodly hours and hasn’t had time to call.” it was like she could read your mind. “Don’t do that.” You said with a shudder. “Do what?” Penelope questioned innocently. “Read my mind like that. It’s weird.” You answered, making her laugh. “Just goes to show how well I know you.” She answered with a smile. It was true. She knew you too well you would even argue. The fact both of you were women in a male dominated field, both dressed eccentricly, and both with a passion for cheesy movies and tv shows. It was only a matter of time until you were best friends after your first run in.

“Why did you call?” You asked, trying to continue on without dawdling. “Oh eh, the report, I ehm…” He was quiet for a moment. It crossed your mind that maybe he didn’t need to speak with you, but he wanted to. “Yes?” You urged after a silence had fallen on the other side of the phone line. There was an intake of breath from Spencer, a moment that signaled he might be trying to raise some courage. “I didn’t want to talk about the report.” He finally spoke. It made you smile, your cheeks flushing ever so slightly. “Oh, well then what did you want to talk about?” You added a bit of playfulness in your tone. You pictured him, holding the phone to his ears that were tipped red. His face was probably just as flushed as it had been in the lab. 

Your phone, which was placed on the table, lit up at that moment. The ringtone played at a high volume, making the cure blast through the room. Your eyes quickly flickered to the screen. Caller ID unknown. You picked up the phone, hesitant of the unknown caller, deciding to hang up instead. You had been plagued by telemarketers for the past month and really didn’t want to deal with that right now. If it was important they would call again. And they did, you still had your phone in your hands when it went off again. “Just pick it up! I will keep watch over our show, fill you in later.” Penelope said, motioning her hands for you to get up. You got off the couch, soft blanket falling to the ground as you picked up the phone. Softly padding away to the kitchen to be out of earshot of Penelope. “Y/n speaking.” you answered, waiting to hear from the other end of the line.

“Hey… ehm… is this not the right time? Are you busy?” The voice on the other end of the line made you straighten up slightly in surprise. “Doctor Reid.” You breathe out his name quietly, adding a “Now is a perfectly good time.” to your sentence. Wondering how hearing his voice through the slightly tin-like phone speaker made you feel a little flutter in your stomach. “Good… I didn’t want to bother you. You can just call me Spencer by the way. Doctor sounds too formal. I just introduce myself like that. It’s a habit. I don’t call you Doctor L/n either. So call me Spencer.” He started rambling. A smile spread across your lips, this rambly version was different from how speechless he had been in the lab. You held back a giggle. Apparently you had rendered him speechless in the lab. “Alright, Spencer.” You answered, the humor in your voice apparent. His breath hitched a little on the other side of the line. 

“You didn’t make a bad impression. I gave you my number for a reason.” You told him with a smile, a little giddy as the words ‘he called me pretty’ kept bouncing around your head. “And I am sorry I called without any real reason to… I know it was for talking about the report. Though Morgan tried to convince me it wasn’t.” Spencer answered. You rolled your eyes at that. Ofcourse, this hyper intelligent man would mix up what you were trying to do. “I gave you my number because I wanted you to call me. Not about the report. I just wanted you to call me. About anything.” There was apparently a need to clear up that confusion. It was silent for another moment. “Oh.” It was like realization dawned on him. “So I should have called sooner, right?” His question made you laugh softly, trying not to clue in Penelope on your call.  “Yes, you should have. Or could have at least. I was waiting.” You answered back, smiling at the ground. You fidgeted with one of the large rings on your free hand, twisting the cool metal round with your thumb.

“I ehm- I haven’t been able to focus, on the case that is. Because I keep thinking about the lab. How I probably came off as a mess, I just didn’t know what to say because you looked so… Not that you look bad because you don’t, you looked really nice. Emily says my IQ gets slashed down to 68 when I am around pretty girls. I wanted to make a good impression. I couldn’t find the words though. I usually don’t make great first impressions, because I tend to ramble. Just- I really really hope I didn’t make a bad first impression.” His sentences flowed into each other like word vomit. Nervous, quick, and hardly understandable. Luckily, you were trained in the art of understanding nervous rambles when Penelope would spiral into one from time to time. However he had called you pretty. “Spencer.” You said his name almost like a question. There was a beat of silence. “Yes?” He asked softly, he sounded so nervous.

“I’m sorry I didn’t.” You could almost hear the smile in his voice. The slight uptick in his pitch. You imagined he was still fiddling with the sleeve of his sweater, or was perhaps looking at his shoes with a grin. “You can make it up to me by buying me a coffee when you get back.” The suggestion came naturally, you didn’t even have to think about it. The words left your lips before you could, really. “What do you like?” Spencer asked without hesitation. “Cinnamon latte.” You answered it softly, a little surprised he agreed so readily. A giddy feeling in your stomach. “Alright, cinnamon latte, I’ll remember.” Spencer sounded a little breathy, like he too was feeling giddy at the prospects of having coffee together. Like the idea of taking time to get to know each other at work over a warm beverage was the perfect first date. “What do you like?” You asked in turn, wanting to know what he would usually get. Knowing more about him would feel so domestic and sweet. “Black coffee, usually with tons of sugar.” He had a hint of embarrassment in your voice. A little muffled like he had covered his mouth to hold in the confession of drinking it so sweet. You smiled at his answer. Of course he had a sweet tooth. “Tons of sugar, I’ll remember.” You mirrored his words. 

“Oh! My! God!” You heard Penelope gasp from the living room. Knocking you out of your little phone call bubble with Spencer. “I think I have to go. You better call me tomorrow.” You said it lightheartedly. Just wanting to hear from him again soon. “I will. I’ll call you.” Spencer answered. “Bye Spencer.” “Bye Y/n.” You hung up with a smile, already turning and walking back into the living room. Penelope turned around on the couch to look at you, “They shot Richard!” She looked absolutely shocked as she gave you the news of your favorite character being hurt. You couldn’t wipe the smile from your face though. “Spencer called.” You saw her face form from a shocked to surprise expression, “Oh! My! God!” She sounded a lot happier that time, and you knew you wouldn't hear the end of it.

[countdown-if]

"Countdown" is a slice-of-life inspired by "Gilmore Girls," and is rated 18+.

Three months ago, life took a sharp turn. Your mother found herself entangled in a situation so bad, she couldn't dig her way out of it, like usual. This time, the hole was way too deep. She needed help, and the only people capable of aiding her were the same ones she had vowed never to allow back into her life, let alone introduce to you and your younger sibling.

Who were they?

Your grandparents—a powerful and well-established duo.

In short, they did manage to help your mother back on her feet, but not without strings attached—never without strings.

Now, you're facing a senior year in a private school, fully funded by none other than grandma and grandpa, dearest. The only task at hand: do what your mother couldn't—graduate.

Form relationships, pursue your passions, burn bridges etc.,—the decision is entirely up to you.

🍁 Customise your MC (gender, style, personality etc...).

🍁 Choose 1 out of 3 part-time jobs (p.s. 'if you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen' and pursue another in your new school!)

🍁 Choose your path. Are you aiming for a top Uni like Harvard next? Or maybe you'll step foot into the world of music? Rumour has it 'Crimson Haze' is looking for a new addition. What will it be?

🍁 Romance 1 out of 6 love interests.

🍁 A lot more in store!

Casey Decker (m/f) 🍁 [profile page]

Your friendship goes way back to the nappy days. With both of your mothers on the younger end of the spectrum, it’s no surprise you grew to be close too—'best friends' type of close.

Casey is a ray of sunshine, full of life, and quite possibly the jelly to your peanut butter. They’re sweet like that—they can be, at least. But best friends should be just that: best friends. Besides, as of recently, Casey is taken.

Appearance: Medium-length, straight, golden blond hair covers the nape of their neck. They have slightly tanned skin, a sprinkle of freckles across their nose and cheeks, and grey eyes.

Lake Aydin (m/f) 🍁 [profile page]

Lake has just started working at the grocery store nearby your house. High-school dropout, you assume. They don’t talk much…to you. Kind of a mystery, that one. Their social media confirms just that—there's not much to go by. 

Also, your first meeting wasn't the greatest or smoothest. But one thing's for sure: you'll be around there a lot, so you might as well get talking in the meantime, right?

Appearance: Dark brown eyes, pale skin, and short, straight black hair for m!L. For f!L, it's medium-length black hair. They wear glasses whenever they remember.

Harry/Hallie Johnson (m/f) 🍁 [profile page]

H doesn't actually go to your school, but events are often organised as a collaboration between a handful of private schools, both of yours included. So yeah, you might see them around.

H is good at all of that—the networking, the galas, the fundraising, and public speaking part. They know what they want, and they have a resume to show for it. H is CC—charismatic and confident. They're who parents wish their kids would bring home, so needless to say, they've got your grandparents' stamp of approval.

Appearance: Deep brown skin, short tightly curled black hair for m!H, and a little longer than shoulder-length, tightly curled black hair for f!H. They have light brown eyes.

Santiago/Samara Garcia (m/f) 🍁 [profile page]

S is an academic with tunnel vision for success. They're consistently at the top of the class, leading the ranks, and on a mission to become valedictorian.

What sets S apart from the majority, you might ask? They're one of the only two people who got into the private school solely based on merit. No mommy's or daddy's money, none of that. It's all about brains and drive.

And what about you? Are you a high achiever? If yes, expect a somewhat healthy rivalry. Heads up, though—S doesn't fail. If no, they'll look down on you, and they won't make any effort to hide that. It's a double-edged sword.

Appearance: They have wavy brunette, borderline black, nearly shoulder-length hair, tan skin, and hazel eyes. They also have three beauty marks: one above their left eyebrow, one right below the left corner of their lip, and one on the tip of their nose.

Riven/Raven Rodrigo (m/f) 🍁 [profile page]

R is destined to be a superstar. Three years ago, R and 3 of their friends formed a band called 'Crimson Haze,' and it seems like all their hard work has finally paid off this summer. They've had a couple of gigs overseas, and they've done really well. They're on their way to major stardom, but first, they need to figure out a few things. Something's missing—perhaps a fifth and final member?

R is a passionate musician, a reckless friend, and a nonchalant lover. Music is their life. However, their love life is...unsteady. They don't do distractions, aka relationships; only fun.

Appearance: They have dyed jet-black hair, short messy waves for m!R, and long messy waves for f!R. They also have amber eyes and olive skin.

Nolan/Naya Brown (m/f) 🍁 [profile page]

N is the star athlete and the school's pride and joy. They have a lot of eyes on them, watching and expecting big things to come. On the court, they're a beast, but in class? Not so much. Their grades are below average, and if they want to keep competing for that full-ride scholarship, they need to bring their grades all the way up.

N is a typical cool and popular kid—playful, funny, and well-liked around the school. Whether they remember it or not, you share a history. You used to know N. FYI, they've been in a committed relationship for the past two and a half years.

Appearance: They have light brown skin in the winter and medium-brown skin in the summer. Their hair is dark brown, with short and loosely curled hair for m!N, and long and loosely curled dark hair for f!N.

DEMO TBA | FORUM

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Congratulations on your milestone!

If it’s not too late, I’d like to request Spencer/Reader post prison with this lyric.

“You’re the cure, and your eyes have dug me out of my grave more times than I could ever count. You’ve always been the one to breathe me back to life - The Cure by The Movielife

Thank you.

Oh how I love post prison angst! And this was the perfect song for, thank you darling!

You’re the Cure

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Summary - you’ve always been the ray of light in Spencer Reid’s often dark life. But in the wake of his incarceration, can you be his cure?

CW - past drug addiction, past parental abandonment, mentions of Maeve arc, prison arc, emotionally distant Spencer, break ups, bad mental health, mentions of not eating and bathing, an almost relapse, heavy drinking, maybe one swear, tears, hopeful ending.

WC - 4.4k

Spencer Reid had never seen himself as someone who needed saving. Being forced to grow up at ten years old when his father abandoned him and his sick mother, had a way of instilling in him that when things went wrong, he could only rely on himself. 

His drug addiction only went to further perpetuate the notion that he was on his own. Even when his brain was muddled by the dilaudid he knew his team was aware of what was going on and not a single one of them ever said anything. 

So Spencer got used to fending for himself, keeping his emotional issues internalised. He loved his friends but he learnt not to count on them. As such he made a habit of keeping his cards close to his chest, never letting anyone in fully. 

Spencer Reid could only truly depend on one person and that was Spencer Reid. 

But then he met you. 

You admittedly joined the BAU at the worst possible time. Spencer was off work while he dealt with the grief of losing Maeve and he heard all about you through stories from Garcia and JJ. Both women described you as a bouncy, happy-go-lucky, ray of human sunshine. And to be perfectly honest, that filled Spencer with dread. 

It was one of the darker moments of his life and the idea of someone coming in and trying to force their light onto him was the last thing he needed. Spencer liked to deal with his trauma by wallowing in it on his own, he didn’t need other’s trying to cheer him up, to drag him out of the shadows. He wasn’t looking for someone to try and make it better, to take his pain away. 

And then you showed up and you breathed him back to life without even realising you were doing so.

From the moment he met you he had instinctively gravitated towards you, like you were magnets of opposing poles who were inherently drawn to one another. But his wounds caused by Maeve’s death were still so raw that he wasn’t in a position to open his heart up again. 

So the two of you fell into a wonderful friendship, probably the best one Spencer had ever had in his life. You were the light to his dark, the sunshine on his cloudy day. You were the first sip of coffee in the morning, the crisp pages of a new book. You were his favourite song. 

You were his cure. 

The whole team joked about the two of you, often referring to you as work husband and wife. Truthfully what you had was essentially a romantic relationship minus the intimacy. And at some point Spencer found the scars start to heal and his heart began to open up again without his realising. 

Almost two years after you joined the team, when Spencer kissed you for the first time, it was like the most natural thing in the world. 

You’d been leaving work together one night and you offered him a ride home like always but somedays Spencer enjoyed taking the metro to clear his head after particularly long days. 

He walked you to your car nonetheless and as you were saying goodbye he leant in and kissed the corner of your mouth as though it was something he did all the time. And then he kissed you again, this time directly on the lips and the strangest part of it was how it didn’t feel strange at all.

You never talked about what it meant but you didn’t need to. The next time the two of you went to the movies he slid his hands in yours as you walked towards the theatre. He spent the night with his arm protectively around your shoulders while you snuggled against him. 

And outside of your door after he walked you home, he kissed you again, this time much more passionately. You’d subsequently invited him in and the two of you finally took your relationship to a whole new level. 

You never defined your relationship per se. Somewhere over time Spencer started referring to you as his girlfriend and it was just so simple. 

Your relationship had grown and blossomed as though it was the easiest thing in the world, like you’d always meant to be together. Up until he’d met you, Spencer’s life had been full of complications but you were the least complicated thing in the world. 

You were the full stop to the end of all his paragraphs, you banished all the darkness from his life. You were the cure for everything that ailed him. 

But then he was arrested. 

Being locked in a cage for two and half months for a crime he didn’t commit brought all those demons out of the shadows that you had chased away with your light. He was sure even your sunny aura couldn’t bring him back from this. 

And after his release, he started shutting down. 

It started in small ways, ones in which you didn’t even really notice at first. Conversations became more one sided, his casual touches were few and far between. Then he started leaving for work earlier and earlier and you started getting used to waking up alone in an empty bed. 

During his stints of mandatory leave from the BAU you barely saw him and you knew that was by design. It became apparent that he was avoiding you, pushing you away along with the rest of the team. 

But you weren't the rest of the team. You were his partner, you shared a home together; a life together. You were once able to pull him out of any hell he was going through without even really trying. But this time he seemed so lost you worried he’d never find his way back to you. 

Even when he was home, mentally he was elsewhere. Perhaps he was still stuck inside a prison cell at Milburn, or maybe he was trapped in a perpetual nightmare that revolved around Cat Adams. 

You tried to comfort him, to offer him a reprieve from his dark thoughts but after so many attempts you gave up trying. There was only so much you could do and to be perfectly honest, you didn’t think there was any way of freeing him from the clutches of his monsters. 

Seven months after his release from prison, the two of you called time on your relationship. 

You moved out of his apartment and in with Penelope as a temporary measure while you found your own place. You took an indefinite leave of absence from the BAU while you worked on piecing your life back together. 

You didn’t see or speak to Spencer for several months that followed the break up. You made Penelope promise you not to tell you anything pertaining to him, it wasn’t your job to worry about him anymore. And even thought it killed her to do so, Penelope agreed to do this one thing for you. 

Spencer had allowed himself to get swallowed up in the darkness and this time even your magnificent light wasn’t enough to cure him.

***

Three months after the break up you still felt just as fragile as you did the day you moved out of his apartment. Your heart had taken a beating, it was bruised and battered and it would take a long time for it to heal, you knew that. But after three months you thought you might have made some progress. Instead you were still stuck at square one.

You’d moved out of Penelope’s last month into a tiny little studio apartment not far from Dupont Circle. You hated it if you were honest, but it was better than continuing to put Garcia out by sleeping on her couch. 

You hadn't been back to the BAU since the break up and had recently started looking for other jobs. You’d interview at the DC Field Office and were hopeful to get an offer, but it would be bitter sweet. You loved the BAU, you didn’t want to leave, but you knew you couldn’t work with Spencer again. Not with the way your heart shattered everytime you simply thought his name. 

You were trying to move on, it was all you could do. But what you didn’t realise was Spencer living in a whole new level of hell. 

***

The final nail in Spencer Reid’s coffin was when you moved out of the apartment. And what made it a harder pill to swallow was the fact it was his own fault you’d done so. 

He’d thought he’d been protecting you by bottling up his emotions and not dragging you down into the pit created by his time in prison. He thought if he didn’t talk about it, it would go away. This was one thing you couldn’t shield him from, one thing he needed to work through on his own the way he’d grown so accustomed to doing before he met you. 

But he’d pushed you too far, right out the door. And from there his life simply spiralled out of control. 

He left the BAU, just up and quit one day without any warning. He knew it was terrible timing with you taking a leave of absence but he couldn’t stop himself. He woke up one day and decided he’d had enough. 

For the months that followed he didn’t leave his apartment much at all. He wasn’t eating properly, wasn’t showering as frequently as he should and barely sleeping more than a couple of fretful hours a night. 

To be alone with himself like this for eternity would be agony. Without you there to breathe him back to life his appetite for living died. 

On one of his rare trips outside of the four walls of his tiringly lonely apartment, he brought a vial of dilaudid. He kept it in the middle of his coffee table for weeks, unopened, just as a reminder that he could take it if he wanted to. 

But thankfully it never did come to that. Instead of getting high, a particular rabbit hole he may never find his way out of, he drank. 

In actuality, it wasn’t much better and he knew that. Just because he’d never had a dependency to alcohol before didn’t mean he couldn’t develop one, clearly he was susceptible to addiction. But drinking was the only thing that helped numb the pain, aided in distancing himself from his tormented thoughts. 

Without you the demons were able to sneak closer and he lived with them among the shadows. You were always the one to shoulder the brunt of his misery but now he had to face it alone because he’d pushed you away. The lightness in your heart that he had always envied was gone, casting him forever into blackness.

He needed you here, the cure when his thoughts turned to cyanide, when he was going out of his fucking mind. 

He’d been drunk for more days straight than he could count and with each passing day the dilaudid grew more tempting. He moved it from the coffee table more often, rolling the vial around his hand, tapping his nails against it; contemplating the sweet release that would come with just one hit. 

But it never would be just one hit. 

The things he’d seen and done in prison haunted his every waking breath and seeped over into the small window of sleep he managed. He was never going to be the same after that experience, it had hardened him in a way he never realised possible. 

It had created a shell around his heart, a solid armour snugly encasing the organ in order to protect himself from his own emotions. But ultimately it hadn’t just been himself his emotions had been locked away from. 

In the seven months you stayed by his side after his release he hadn’t once been able to tell you he loved you. It only occurred to him after you walked away that he hadn’t said that to you since the morning he’d left for Mexico. 

In seven months the most physical contact the two of you had was a few occasions when you’d dared to place a kiss on his cheek. You hadn’t kissed properly, hadn’t been intimate, hadn’t even so much as held hands since before he made the decision to go to Mexico. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t think about it. There were multiple times he’d almost initiated something, almost drawn you into his body when you were laying in bed side by side yet miles apart. But he always stopped himself.

The sad fact of the matter was: Spencer didn’t trust himself to be with you anymore. But in order to survive in prison he’d had to become someone he didn’t recognise and it wasn’t so easy for him to shed that new persona. And as if to really drive that point home, when he’d had Cat pinned against the wall with his hand around her throat, he knew he would never trust himself with you again. 

The darkness was inside of him now, leaching into every pore. If he was the kind of man who could have killed Cat, or Scratch, and slept well afterwards, who’s to say where he would draw that line? 

As much as he missed you with every strangled beat of his shattered heart, keeping you away from him kept you safe. And he only ever wanted you to be safe. 

But without you, he may well meet his demise at the bottom of a bottle, or the bottom of a vial.

You were the cure. Your eyes have dug him out of his grave more times than he could ever count. You’ve always been the one to breathe him back to life. 

And so maybe it was inevitable that he called you, perhaps it was a feat in itself that he’d managed months on his own. But when he found himself on his bathroom floor, half a bottle of whiskey clouding his brain and a needle full of dilaudid in his hand, the only thing that was going to stop his relapse was you.

He didn’t expect you to answer but he prayed you would. And maybe someone was looking out for him, maybe there was some kind of higher power smiling down on him because you answered after three rings. 

“Spencer…” your voice was barely above a whisper as you spoke his name. Just those two simple syllables from your lips wrapped him in a blanket of your warmth. 

“H-hi Y/N.” His own was hoarse, run down. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken out loud and it showed. 

Tears rolled down his cheeks, heavy and thick as the hand holding the needle trembled. 

“Did you…did you want something?” Your voice held the weight of the pain he’d cause you and made even more tears fall. 

“Uh…” he stared at the needle, brushing his thumb along the plastic tube. This was so unfair of him. He couldn’t do this to you, drag you back into his mess like this. He knew if he asked you would come running in a heartbeat. But it wasn’t fair of him to ask. “It’s nothing. Forget I called.” 

“Are you sure?” Your tone was riddled in concern. 

“Y-yeah. Sure. V-very sure.” He stuttered, choking a little on his own tears. 

Before you could reply he hung up the phone before he could change his mind and beg you to come and save him from himself. He tossed the device aside and focused on the needle. He leant back against the bathroom wall, pulling his knees up to meet his chest. 

The cool tile on his bare feet was a nice repreve, but the dilaudid would be better. 

His shirt sleeve was already pushed up to his elbow, the tie was already secured around his bicep. The needle was full, all he had to do was press it into his waiting vein and all of his problems would melt away. 

But this was one grave he may never be able to dig himself out of. Once he relapsed there would be no going back, no getting sober this time. But his sobriety didn’t mean as much to him as it once had, and perhaps it was worth succumbing to his demons for a chance at peace.

***

Despite how hard he tried to sound like himself, it was easy for you to see through Spencer’s thinly veiled lie. And as much as you didn’t want to involve yourself anymore, you couldn’t help yourself. 

Taking care of Spencer Reid came as naturally to you as breathing. You didn’t intend on doing it, and most of the time he didn’t need looking after. But you did it anyway in small, every day ways. 

You did it in the way you made him coffee every morning before work. You did it in the way you ran your fingers through his hair after a stressful day. You did it in the way you grasped his hand when he needed something to ground him, when you offered him a soft smile of encouragement when he needed it. 

He’d always called you his cure, as though you were the antidote to all the horrors in the world. He’d told you that your smile was the sweetest medicine, that your mere presence in his life was therapeutic. 

So if there was any way you could help him, even after he’d pushed you away and caused you to leave, you would find it and you would do it. Which was why after he hung up on you, you were quickly jumping in your car and driving across town to the apartment you used to reside in. 

The door wasn’t just unlocked but it was open a crack. Immediately your heart started to race and you were so glad you hadn’t officially quit the BAU yet and you were still in possession of your firearm. 

Your hand shook as you pulled the weapon from your holster, nudging the door further open with your shoulder. You made quick work of taking in the room. It looked to be ransacked, like someone had broken in and turned the place upside down in search of something. 

You held your breath as you silently started across the room, manoeuvring in and out of piles of debris left behind in someone's wake. You headed towards the closed bedroom door, gun pointing right ahead of you. You focused your hearing but thus far couldn’t make out any distinctive sounds. 

Pushing open the door, you found the bedroom in much the same state as the living room. You tried not to allow yourself to get sentimental as your eyes swept across the unmade bed and you thought back to late nights and early mornings snug beneath those sheets with Spencer. The bed that was so big but you’d never know it as he always kept you as close as humanly possible. 

The bathroom door, like the front door, was open a crack and a light pooled from inside. It was then you heard the sound of haggard breathing punctuated by loud sniffing, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to well and truly stand to attention. 

As you listened to the unmistakable sounds of a grown man sobbing, you lowered your gun and tucked it back in your holster. 

A deeply disturbed and troubled man had ravaged this apartment but it was not the work of some petty criminal. Spencer had turned his home into a reflection of his own tortured mind, you had no doubt. 

You were somehow more tentative after you knew someone hadn’t broken in. You had never seen Spencer cry before, he always liked to put up a tough exterior, probably something to do with him being the baby of the BAU for so many years. 

You’d seen him vulnerable, probably more than he’d ever let anyone else see him, but you’d never witnessed him with his walls stripped away completely. And honestly, the thought of it scared you a little. 

But no matter how scared you were, despite how much he had hurt you, you pressed on. 

You inched open the bathroom not wanting to startle him and found him on the floor, hugging his legs to his chest and sobbing into his knees. But the truly terrifying part was the vial and needle discarded at his side. A silk tie was fashioned into a tourniquet around his arm.

“S-Spencer?” You gasped, covering your gaping mouth with your hands. 

He stiffened and slowly lifted his head from where it had been buried in the fabric of his slacks. His eyes were red rimmed and tears silently streamed down his cheeks. His hair drooped lifelessly onto his forehead and his face clearly hadn’t seen a razor in months. 

He somehow looked even worse than when you visited him in prison. 

“Why are you here?” His voice cracked and his words were slightly slurred. 

“You didn’t sound like yourself on the phone. I needed to see you with my own eyes.” You heard the sadness in your own tone, unable to hide it. 

“I’m not myself.” He exhaled a breath that sounded like he had been holding it in for years. “I haven’t been since prison.” 

You swallowed, daring to take a few steps further into the bathroom. Spencer let his legs fall and stretch out in front of him on the linoleum and you slid down to sit next to him, the only thing separating you was the drug paraphernalia. As if reading your mind he exhaled again before he spoke.

“I didn’t take it.” He wouldn’t look at you, instead he looked down at his hands. “I wanted to, but I didn’t.” 

“Why are you slurring then?” You watched the side of his face. He clenched and unclenched his jaw several times. 

“Whiskey. Not dilaudid. I swear.” 

“I’ve never known you to drink.” Of course it was a relief that he hadn’t taken the drugs, but hearing that he was drunk wasn’t a whole lot better. 

“I hadn’t had a drink in nearly ten years. I gave it up around the same time as I quit dilaudid, I guess I worried it would become one vice replacing another. But I needed something. And alcohol was the lesser of two evils.” He was still slurring but he was surprisingly coherent. 

It didn’t surprise you in the least that Spencer could still string a logical sentence together when he was inebriated. 

“Why did you call me, Spencer? Of all the people you could have called, why me?” You whispered as though you weren’t entirely sure you really wanted an answer to that. 

He finally looked at you, glancing to his side with his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He ran his tongue along his bottom lip in contemplation for a moment or two as though formulating a carefully curated answer. But really, the answer was incredibly simple. 

“Because you’re my cure.” He shrugged, his tears had dried up but the stains on his cheeks remained. “And right now I am in desperate need of remedy.” 

“Spencer…” You sighed, your own eyes misting over with tears. “I was always here for you, you could have talked to me about anything but instead you shoved me aside and tried to deal with things on your own.”

“I’ve never been very good at asking for help. I’ve only ever been able to rely on myself. People leave. People aren’t reliable. But you…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “You brought the kind of sunshine into my life I could only dream of. You have saved me in more ways than you will ever know. Your mere existence in my life has been more help to me than I can explain to you. That’s why I call you my cure, because it's the best way I can think to describe what you are to me.” 

“I knew you would be different after prison, Spencer. No decent man can go through an experience like that and come out unchanged. But in your bones you are still the Spencer Reid I fell in love with.” You tried to tell him much like you had countless times in those torrid seven months. You hoped this time he might actually hear it. 

“I’m really not sure that I am, Y/N.” He raked his fingers through his tangled hair with a meek shake of his head. 

“I am.” You nodded. “I’m sure. Spencer, whatever you had to do inside was for your own protection. It was every man for himself and you did what you did to survive. And Cat…? After everything she’s done to you, I wanted to strangle the bitch too.” 

Spencer’s eyes widened, looking a little like deer caught in headlights. He was gnawing on his bottom lip haphazardly as he stared at you. 

“Really?” 

“Yes, Spencer.” 

“Do you really think I can come back from this?” 

“Yes, Spencer.” You repeated, defiance in your voice. “And I’m going to help you. Whether you want me to or not. Because my love for you is stronger than the pain you caused me. I will be by your side, showering you in light until there is not even a sliver of a shadow for your demons to hide in. Let me be your cure, Spence.” 

You reached out your hands towards him, palm upwards and fingers spread to create enough space for his own to slot between them. He glanced between your face and your hand a few times before his lip quipped up ever so slightly at the corner in a small smile. 

And then he reached for you, his fingers finding those spaces between your own that always seemed like they were made intentionally to fit his. It was as though someone had crafted you both perfectly for each other. 

Spencer had never been a believer in higher powers but it was the only reason he could fathom for how you had found him. 

In a world consisting of nearly eight billion people, what were the chances of the two of you meeting? What were the odds of two perfectly imperfect people finding each other and slotting together in such an inconceivably faultless way? 

As you sat there hand in hand, Spencer knew he would do anything to keep you by his side for as long as he lived. Even if it meant allowing you to see all his flaws, all his cracks. Because he was certain now you would love every one of his broken pieces. 

You were the light casting away his shadows. You were the air being breathed into his lungs. You were the thread holding him together. 

You were the cure. 

[moonlightspencie]

like the gardens of babylon

part 11 of ‘the sweetest con’

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: some suggestive content at the end, but nothing explicit!

Walking into the bullpen had never felt so nerve-wracking. Usually, if I felt any anxieties at all, it had to do with a case. Or at least work. As it should, considering this was my workplace, after all.

But, this time, all the nerves stemmed from my concerns that word would get out before I had the chance to address it all myself. After JJ had seen us kiss last week, every day felt like a new opportunity for everyone to find out. Each day only got worse. Any time someone looked at me for too long, I started sweating a little.

But, of course, my darling girl couldn’t care less. She was convinced that JJ wouldn’t say a word, and I had to commend her faith in our friends. I, however, knew that the thrill of a scandal could break down even the strongest barriers on our team. Especially when it came to all of our love lives.

As much as I love my team, I knew they weren’t always the most… discreet.

I could see the lingering looks from JJ anytime Y/N snuck into my office for our usual lunchtime “date”. It felt like a matter of time before it escalated.

And escalate it did.

I snuck out of my office after lunch that afternoon only to see a few pairs of eyes on me, and a lot of whispering. I narrowed my eyes at Derek, Penelope, and Y/N.

“Something you’d like to share?” I asked, noticing they didn’t look away when I’d caught them.

“No—”

Penelope cut Y/N off. “Teasing our little ray of sunshine, here.”

I merely raised my brows in question, making quick eye contact with the aforementioned “ray of sunshine.” She looked at me with pleading eyes, though I couldn’t quite decipher what she was trying to ask of me.

“It’s nothing, Hotch,” she shook her head.

“Nothing?” Morgan questioned. “Mmm mm. Lies.”

“What is it, then?”

Morgan smirked. “Something goin’ on with you two that you’d like to share?”

I froze up, though I tried playing it off. I hoped it was convincing enough.

“Like what, exactly?”

Penelope blushed. “We were merely asking her if your little daily lunch dates meant anything.”

I looked at Y/N briefly. Apparently, that was a mistake. Derek stood abruptly, closing in on me.

“Wait, seriously?” he turned to look at Y/N, who looked, frankly, like she’d been caught red-handed. “Seriously?”

“Oh my god—” Garcia squealed.

I’m sure my face going red didn’t help our case as I asked the two of them to keep it down. Y/N stood, standing next to me as I attempted to fend off questions from the other two.

“Guys,” she raised her hands to calm them. “This is still kind of new. We weren’t really ready to tell anyone yet, so…”

“Oh,” Penelope said, her voice lowered.

“Just please don’t tell anyone else. For our sake.”

“Sure thing, mama,” Derek said, nodding.

Penelope smiled softly. “Wouldn’t dream of trying to ruin this. I am so, absolutely excited, but I promise I will zip my lips just for you, sugar.”

“Thanks, Pen,” she smiled back at her.

She looked at me, looking a little apologetic. I gave her a raised brow and half a smile.

“Sorry. I thought we’d be able to keep this secret a little while longer,” she said quietly.

“Not your fault. I think we’re both pretty bad at hiding our feelings,” I sighed. Then, I looked at the others. “Thank you for your… Discretion with this. We’ll tell the others soon, we just wanted to keep this—”

“Yours?” Morgan asked, practically finishing my sentence.

“Yeah,” I nodded once. “Exactly.”

He smirked. “Can’t blame you for wanting to keep her all to yourself. I can respect that.”

I rolled my eyes, hiding a smile. “Right. Well, I need coffee if I’m going to get through the rest of today.”

They nodded, waving me off. I let out a deep breath as I turned. Three coworkers knew already, and I wondered how long we could actually keep things quiet before I had to come clean with everyone.

Though, after that conversation, part of me couldn’t wait to finally show her off as mine.

I got my coffee, heading back to my office to get through all of the work I had set aside for the day. It passed incredibly slowly. Her sweet face in my doorway at the end of the day made up for it, though.

I sat up a little straighter, an unintentional smile on my face.

“Hi,” I greeted.

“Hey. Getting late,” she said. “We’re picking up Jack in an hour, so pack it up, love.”

I snorted a laugh. She walked in, shutting the door behind her. I packed up as she had requested, standing to accept a soft kiss from her near the edge of my desk.

“He’s been asking about you, you know?” I said.

She smiled, still holding onto my waist in a hug. She pressed a small kiss to my cheek.

“Yeah?”

I hummed an affirmation. “Every night I’ve talked to him since we went to the zoo. He’s been looking forward to tonight.”

She smiled, and my heart warmed. “Let’s go get him then, yeah?”

We left the building, heading off to my apartment. I put away my things, and we both quickly changed clothes before getting in my car and heading to Haley’s. Of course, she stayed in the car when I went to get Jack, though I’d be surprised if she couldn’t still see the dirty looks being shot at her from the front door.

I ignored the hostility, too wrapped up in the plans we’d made for the night to care too much about Haley’s attitude. Jack practically squealed when he saw Y/N in the car, shooting a million questions at her the entire ride back the apartment. One in particular had me smiling like an idiot:

“Are you and daddy gonna get married?”

She laughed a little. “I don’t know buddy. We’ll have to wait and see, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged.

She looked at me, almost panicked by the question, but it only made my heart flutter in my chest. I knew it was probably far too soon to consider marriage, but I didn’t hate the idea of it happening some day. The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea.

Our night was spent in front of the TV, snacks and drinks set on the coffee table, all of us sat in a pile of pillows and couch cushions at Jack’s request. As much as I’d like to say that I set most of it up, it seemed that no matter what I tried to do, she’d get to it first. I would have been offended if she wasn’t so excited to do everything she was doing.

Jack cuddled up to my side for a while as we watched the tail end of Monsters Inc. My arm was around his tiny shoulders, but soon I felt him shrugging me off. I looked down in confusion as he started leaning into Y/N instead, leaving me in the dust. I furrowed my brow, looking at her with offense.

“You stole my child.”

“Maybe he just likes the girl who gave him candy a little more than the dad who tried giving him pretzels.”

Jack giggled, rest his head against her arm. I tried to look annoyed, but it was hard to do with this sight right in front of me. My previous worries about them being together seemed so stupid now. Of course he’d love her.

“Still,” I raised a brow in challenge. “He was mine first.”

“Still love you, daddy,” he said, giving me a cheeky smile.

I couldn’t hold back my grin. “I love you more.”

He was out like a light by the time the credits were rolling, and she allowed me to take him to his bedroom and tuck him in. I kissed his forehead, wishing all my nights could end like this.

I wandered back into the living room to find her already cleaning up.

“Babe, I can worry about that tomorrow.”

“Babe, huh?” she smirked.

I felt my cheeks heat up. “Just… Shut up.”

She laughed. “You know, I can help pick up the mess I made, babe.”

I sighed, rolling my eyes for good measure. I followed her into the kitchen with two cups in my hands as she took care of a few other dishes. However, I set mine down quickly, plans on my mind that had nothing to do with cleaning.

I wrapped my arms around her waist from where she stood at the sink, pressing a few soft kisses up her neck until my lips were at her ear.

“Why don’t we go to bed?”

“Aaron,” she warned, though the way she leaned into me made that warning much less severe.

“I’ve missed you.”

“You see me every day.”

I groaned, turning her around. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

She bit her lip. “You’re ridiculous.”

I smirked, leaning in before she could think too hard about my plan of… Redirection. Her lips met mine as if it was her plan all along, kissing me softly, but not without passion. Her hands trailed up my arms until they were linking behind my neck. I took that as my chance.

I patted her hip, and she jumped into my arms. I hooked my arms under her, carrying her to the bedroom and dropping her on the bed unceremoniously. She looked at me with that little mischievous glint in her eyes as I pulled off my tshirt. I crawled up over her on the bed, though she quickly pulled me down on top of her.

“You’re a troublemaker,” she mumbled, kissing my neck.

“I think you like it that way.”

“Never said I didn’t.”

She nipped at my skin, moving her lips back to mine. My hands found their way under her shirt as we moved up towards the headboard. Her back arched into my touch, exciting me all the more as her hands ran all over me.

“Just promise me one thing?”

I nodded. “Anything.”

She pulled off her top, tossing it somewhere. “Don’t be too loud or you’ll wake up Jack.“

I scoffed a laugh as she smirked again, flipping us over so that she was on top of me.

“Sure,” she said, looking down at me. “Go ahead and laugh like didn’t nearly wake the whole building last time.”

[storiesofsvu]

Post Its

Tara Lewis x reader req'd by anon Warnings: language, some slight teasing, pure fluff. Tbh, it is a fcking crime that there isn't more Tara stuff out here, wtf? Send a req here! Sign up for her taglist here!

Tara loved you more than anything in the world, she had from practically the moment she’d met you. You were exactly the opposite of all the darkness that she saw on a regular basis working with the BAU and that was part of what drew her to you originally. You were soft, warm, colourful, her own personal ray of sunshine to come home to after a long dreary day. She knew part of that stemmed from the fact that you taught kindergarten, spending the days with tiny humans, you were always full of laughs, stories full of imagination and your sticker collection was far larger than she’d ever seen before.

She couldn’t help but smile when she’d catch you in moments of still very much being in teacher mode, as if you were talking to tiny humans instead of actual conversations. She’d once overheard you in the kitchen when a pot was boiling over say something along the lines of “oh come on now Mr. milk, that is not very smiley face sticker behaviour of you.” She chuckled but didn’t say anything, she found it endearing and adorable, not something to tease you about. It was just something that made her love you more, made her softer around you, able to finally embrace that side of herself knowing that you loved it as well.

Once the two of you moved in together it was pretty frequent that you’d pack lunches for the both of you to take to work. Tara hadn’t thought much of it, she usually bought lunch or they were on the jet by the time noon hit anyways, but you always brought your own, and made sure your classroom was stocked with extra snacks for kids who got hungry. So it just made sense for you to make double what you were making and pass the bag off to her with a gentle kiss on the way out the door. It started out as just food, though sometimes things were cut into cute shapes, sandwiches without crusts, little animal or frog skewers in the smaller pieces of fruit to use instead of forks.

“Awe, did your mom pack your lunch.” Luke teased with a smug grin one day and Tara simply snorted.

“Nah, you should know this by now, it was your mom.”

It was almost too easy to tease him back, and besides, he walked right into that one and he knew it.

That was when the rumours started that maybe Tara had a secret kid at home that no one knew about, hence why everything was kid accessible. The rumour lasted approximately ten weeks until she was invited out for post work drinks and she said she had somewhere important to be.

“I’m betting girl.” Spencer muttered and Luke laughed.

“Nah, I’ve seen dinosaurs in her lunches.”

“Girls can like dinosaurs too.” Garcia cut in with a huff and Tara raised a brow in their direction.

“This started out with me thinking you were trying to figure out my sexuality but you lost me at dinosaurs.”

“They think you have a kid.” Emily cut in dryly, already knowing the truth and Tara barked out a laugh.

“No, absolutely not. I have to get home because it’s my anniversary.” She shouldered her bag, “with my future wife, because I know you’ll spend another two months speculating that next.”

It was shortly after your wedding that the notes started. You and Tara had thoroughly enjoyed your three week honeymoon off in Italy. Nothing but time for each other, so much wine and more pasta than you could even imagine. While the transition back into work was relatively smooth for yourself, Tara found herself instantly thrown back into the world of darkness and back to back very jarring cases. You knew she was a little off when she came home absolutely defeated, forgoing dinner for a large glass of bourbon and latched onto you like a koala bear for as long as she possibly could before Monday rolled around. She accepted her lunch with a soft smile and a kiss, pausing to steal another one before you sent her on her way.

When she pulled her lunch out a yellow post it fell out of the bag, her brow furrowed when she went to pick it up, wondering if it was a work note she’d gotten stuck in there by accident or the label from someone else’s lunch in the fridge. Instead she found your writing scrawled across the front,

‘I love you so much, you are my sunshine.’ A large sun drawn in the corner with a huge smile and a pair of sunglasses. A couple of sparkly cloud stickers on it as well. She felt her shoulders drop as her entire body relaxed, releasing the tension of being back at work again and the small smile stayed on her cheeks for the rest of the day.

The next day she opened her lunch to find a slightly crushed chocolate chip muffin among her items, a pink post it with ‘You’re my stud muffin.’ Scrawled across it with a winky face and a print of your lipstick on the paper. She laughed silently, shaking her head at the way she could hear it in your voice. Opening the drawer of her desk she added the note to the little basket she had put the first one in, smiling softly down at them.

Two days later and she found an extra container of candy in her lunch, the post it note blocking the label, ‘You are one hot tamale.’ With a wink. She didn’t need to move the note to know what the candies were, but she still slipped it into the small growing pile in her desk drawer.

‘I know it’s cheesy, but I think you’re grate!’ Stuck to the outside of a cheese string. She audible laughed at this one, earning a raised brow from Spencer, but he didn’t say anything.

‘A list of cute things:

-you

-also you

-hey look, you!

-wait, wait, wait

-you!

-you’re cute’

‘Olive you’ with a drawing of two martini glasses complete with extra toothpicks of olives. (and a note on the back ‘seriously, don’t forget about drinks with the Tanners on Thursday’)

‘You are the sugar and spice of my life’

The notes weren’t every day, obviously if a case took her out of town for a week she wasn’t bringing that many packed lunches in one go. And she could tell that you usually did them the day after rough days, days when she needed a little uplifting, that you knew you would make her smile, if not laugh. Some of them were funny, some punny, and some just utterly adorable. It didn’t matter the theme, she saved every single one of them in her desk drawer, not quite able to part with them. And each day that you left a note, she would come with an even warmer smile than she left with, holding you a second longer when she greeted you, murmuring a soft I love you into your skin as she kissed you hello.

‘There is night so we can appreciate day, sorrow so we can appreciate joy, evil so we can appreciate well, you so I can appreciate love’

She felt the warmth blooming through her chest at that one, a little boost of how important she was to you on a day she was doubting herself.

‘The sound of your laughter is food for my spirit.’

‘I love you more than anything in the entire world. You are my rock, my sun, my moon and stars. You are the most snuggly teddy bear I’ve ever had in my bed, and without a doubt my absolute favourite. Can’t wait to see you, because that’s my favourite time of the day.’

It had been a rough couple of days and she almost felt tears building up in her eyes at that one. She quickly tucked it into her desk drawer and shook the feeling off, she had a reputation to uphold at the office after all. However the moment she was home she was sure to make you know just how much she loved you and how much she really did adore the lunch notes, even if you’d never actually talked about them. It was silent cues you took from each other about them, the way she had a little more pep in her step when she got home after you’d sent her one. And that was all you ever needed.

It was a few days later when Luke was looking over something for a case at her desk, Emily across at Spencer’s desk, eyes looking up at the white board trying to figure something out, Garcia perched on the edge of the desk. Luke let out a huff, recapping the highlighter in his hand before tossing it into the trash.

“Tara, you got a highlighter?”

“Yeah, top right.” She gestured to the drawer and turned back to Spencer as the two of them went through the geographical profile. A small chuckle broke out from behind them that she didn’t think anything of, probably some snarky remark from Penelope until she heard the shuffle of paper and Luke’s voice.

“The most snuggly teddy bear I’ve ever had in my bed… this is pure sap.”

“Oh, but she’s got puns too, look at this one.” Emily’s laughter was what broke Tara out of her trance when she finally turned around to see the three of them with the large array of colourful post it notes spread across her desk.

“Oh come on! That is not a highlighter!”

“Yeah, but it’s way more entertaining.” Luke replied with a smirk, reading off another one of the very sappy ones.

“I think it’s endearing.” Spencer, who had left her to join in on the fun chimed in, smiling brightly in her direction, “couples that continually do little things to keep each other’s spirits up are found to be much happier and have much more successful relationships.”

“Aweee, pookie bear.” Luke teased, “that your new code name?”

“I will shoot you right now.” Tara shot him the coldest glare.

“Does she come up with these on her own?” Penelope asked with a smile, “cause they are good!”

“I don’t know.” Tara replied with a shrug, “I’ve never asked her.”

“Are these what you’ve been smiling at in your lunch all the time?” Emily asked with a wild grin, holding up the stud muffin one and Tara let out a huff, rolling her eyes.

“Can we just stop this? Maybe focus on the task at hand?”

“Whatever you want pookie.” Luke made a kissy face in her direction and she hucked a white board marker at him.

It wasn’t that she was particularly embarrassed by it, but she was a little irked by them seeing all of them. Sure, they were all from you and they didn’t technically see how soft she got with you, but the façade was ruined. As much of a bad ass that she was in the field, she knew that nickname wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon and almost instantly started planning her revenge against Luke. Garcia would help her, she knew that.

A couple of days later she was smiling at a pink post it;

‘You are the sun on a cold day, the crunchiest leaf on my walk to work, the first snowflake of the season to catch on my tongue, the first daisy to bloom come springtime. You are the light of my life. You are the small things that make every and each day the absolute best that it can, you are the only thing that can brighten me up no matter what. I love you.’

She pulled open her desk drawer to add it to the basket and her hand stalled in its tracks when she found the basket empty. She groaned, pinching at the bridge of her nose as disappointment surged through her. Despite her best efforts the team had insisted on going through every single note you’d left for her, she must’ve forgotten to put them back into the drawer before leaving for the day, the cleaners probably thought the pile was garbage. Letting out a soft sigh, she placed the new note into the basket, figuring it wouldn’t hurt to start over now.

*

You were in the kitchen when you heard the door open, Tara calling out to you while she clunked around a little more than usual in the entry way.

“Hey!”

“Hey! Hope you’re in the mood for lasagna!” You called back, wiping your hands on a dish towel before padding your way over to the entry way to greet her.

“Baby you really don’t have to slave way over a hot stove for me after you’ve finished a full day of work.”

“Babe, please. I picked up a frozen lasagna and garlic bread on the way home, the oven did all the work.” You laughed, cupping her face in your hands as you popped up on your toes to kiss her softly. When you pulled back you noticed the black frame under her arm, “what’s that? Did you get some kind of award you failed to mention?”

“No.” She laughed, nudging her go bag off her shoulder to its spot on the entry way bench, “the team may have found the collection of post its stashed in my desk.”

Your head tilted in that adorable way that she loved so much, “the lunch notes?”

“Yeah.”

“You kept those?” You practically melted, a happy and somehow dreamy pout on your lips as you gazed up at her with wide eyes and she couldn’t help but fall even more in love with you, her hand stroking your cheek before she leant in to leave a kiss on the tip of your nose.

“Are you kidding me? As if I could ever throw them away! They were the second best part of my day.”

“Second?” You eyed her suspiciously for a moment before a grin broke out on your lips.

“Well the first is always coming home to you.”

“You fuckin’ teddy bear.”

“Yeah, and now the entire team knows it.” She rolled her eyes, “I guess after approximately one hour and forty two minutes of teasing they got scheming, but my money’s on this being Garcia’s idea.” She turned the frame on the table so you could actually see it, “she’s a bit of a sap and thought the notes were super cute, figured they’d be nice to have all together in one place we could actually admire instead of stashed away in my desk drawer.”

“Oh I knew I liked her.” Your fingers reached out, ghosting over the side of the frame, “this is so cute, and so thoughtful.”

“You like it?”

“I love it.” You leant into her side, humming happily when she kissed your temple.

“Where do you think we should put it?”

“Hmm.” You tugged your lip into your mouth, glancing around, “the wall behind the couch is particularly bare.” You turned to her with a warm smile and a gleam in your eye, “then maybe… we should have your team over for drinks next weekend? It’s practically a crime that I’ve only met Emily so far.”

“I’d love that.” Tara smiled brightly at you, cupping your cheek as she leant down to place a tender kiss on your lips, “and I love you.”

“Not as much as I love you.”  

_______________

@mysticfalls01 @evilregal2002 @maybe-a-humanbean @alcabots @dextur @wchipxchipxp @m00nkn1ghts @daddy-heather-dunbar @augustvandyne @supercriminalbean @prentiss-theorem m @unsubologyy @svushots @happenstnces @sapphicprentiss @heidss @geekyandgay98 @pagetboobstarcomments @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @akingcalledkris @desperate-gay @amypoehlfey @overtrred28 8 @kalixxa

[criminalmindswhore]

Computer Whiz

Agent Emily Prentiss, a dedicated FBI agent known for her tenacity and precision, finds herself in a whirlwind of danger and emotion when her latest investigation collides with her personal life.

TW: angst, computer crimes, mention of pedophiles

There was only one person whom Emily truly felt safe with and that was her girlfriend Y/n. Y/n was a ray of sunshine and love in her life and coming home to you after a dark case made her days easier. You were always there to welcome her home with a tight hug, a cheek kiss, and a whispered, "I missed you, sweet girl." You worked from home most of the time so her crazy schedule wasn't an issue.

You were a computer analyst for the Department of Defense, you were up there with Penelope when it came to computers and technology. You could hack into chatroom, computer, phone, blog, anything. You had an office in your shared apartment with 3 monitors and a setup that would make any tech nerd drool.

You were working away at your desk on cracking open a chatroom for an underground weapons ring when Emily came in the door, "Y/n, I'm home love." You didn't answer so she assumed you were focused, she was right. As she turned the corner into your office the sight in front of her made her feel weak in the knees. You were sitting in your chair with one leg pulled up under your other leg. You were wearing her FBI hoodie, leggings, and the banana socks she bought you as a gag gift. The messy bug on top of your head made it apparent to her that you have been here for a while. "Hi, love." You could hear the dopey-ass smile in her voice.

Finally stopping your work you turned your chair around to face her, "Hi beautiful girl." She walked over to you before leaning down to give you the sweetest kiss you've ever had, the kind of kiss that makes your head spin around. She cupped your face with her hands before pulling away. She held your face and just looked at you like she was trying to memorize every millimeter of you. Your eyes just watched her eyes as they slowly scanned your face. "Do you want to run and grab our dinner while I finish?" She frowned, "I was hoping you would let me watch you again. It's fun watching you work." How could you ever say no to her, she had this look in her eyes that drove you crazy and she knew it. "Fine, but you can't profile the case." You pointed a finger at her as she pulled up a chair beside yours.

"Fuck yes, I'm in." Your finger kept moving furiously, "I need to download all of this now before I get kicked out." A ding came from your computer and you threw your hands in the air. "New record bitches. They really need to learn it only takes me 3 seconds to get everything." Emily just stared at you in awe, there were about 50 different codes and buttons pushed in those 3 seconds. "I will never understand how you and Penelope do that." She chuckled at herself and you beamed at her. "Dinner?" She nodded and stood up pulling you from your chair. She wrapped her arms around your waist fingers gripping your hips. She leaned in close and whispered in your ear, "I think I know what I want to eat now." Your breath hitched and you craned your neck to expose it to her, she took the bait and started leaving sloppy kisses down your neck.

The next week, Emily was sitting at her desk trying to find a single clue in her case. A computer whiz was hacking into pedophile chatrooms and finding their addresses. This person was then hiring hitmen to take them out. Looking at the messages sent to the hitmen trying to find something, anything. There was a soft knock on her door, Penelope timidly stuck her head in, "Em we have an issue." She sat in a chair in front of her desk, file in hand. Prentiss set down her pen immediately noticing how serious Pen looked, "What's going on Garcia?" Penelope swallowed hard and handed the file to Emily. "Y/n is our unsub." Emily threw open the file looking for a way for it to not be true. "I was trying to find the IP address of the person contacting the hitmen, which was difficult because she was using a device to bounce her IP around every 20 seconds. However, I was able to get through the device and it pinged in your apartment for almost a minute. Unless it's just a coincidence, she is our unsub." Penelope looked up at Emily from her heels, Emily had a single tear on her cheek. The map showed so clearly apartment 3B, the most left corner where your office is. Emily's heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest, this could not be happening.

"No no no no." You kept repeating the word no like a mantra. The alert on your computer still going off, letting you know that Garcia broke your security system. "Fuck!" You had 20 minutes tops to get the fuck out of there. You threw your most important items in a bag and opened up your computer to a Word document. Hands shaky and teary you typed out a letter for your Emily, you knew her heart was broken by now. The letter was full of apologies for breaking her trust, for letting her love you, for running away. As you booked it towards the door of your apartment you stopped for a moment looking at the picture of you and Emily above the kitchen doorway. She had her head thrown back laughing as you were telling a story to JJ. Both of your smiles were wide, eyes sparkling with love. Rossi can be seen in the background smiling at the two of you. You took the photo off the wall and shoved it into your bag. As the apartment door shut behind you, you were officially on the run. Feet heavy, palms sweaty. You could hear the sirens coming towards the building, you got into the second car you had without Emily knowing and slinked out of the parking lot.

It wasn't long before you were caught and thrown into the back of an SUV. Alvez didn't say a word outside of your Miranda Rights the entire ride to Quantico where you knew Emily was waiting. As the doors to the elevator opened she stood there. Arms crossed around her chest, eyes visibly puffy and red. She stared into you with an anger you had never seen before, how could you? Emily's head was going a million miles a minute trying to find a way for you to not be responsible. As Alvez walked down the hall to the interrogation room you saw Emily holding a printout of the letter you wrote to her. Luke didn't bother cuffing your hands to the table, you wouldn't hurt any of them, you wouldn't even think about it.

You could feel Emily's eyes on you from the other side of the glass. You could guess exactly where her head is at, questioning every part of your relationship, looking for signs. She wouldn't find any, she never had any reason to believe this was going on. Emily stared at the guilt so apparent on your face. She knew you truly believed you would never get caught, you are the smartest person she knows. There was a lot of hurt circling her mind. Not only did you do this, but you hid it so well from her. She trusts you more than anyone on this planet, more than she trusts herself, and you hid this.

Emily took a deep breath in and then entered the room. Your eyes shot from your hands to her face, trying to read her. She sat at the other side of the table, hands in her lap, file on the table. "Y/n, why?" You could hear the broken trust in her voice, "I don't truly know. It started with me trying to find them for a case and once I realized how easy it was, I lost control." Your anger was rising, "How could I just live my life knowing these fucked up men hurt children. Children Emily. I couldn't." Your hands were shaking, and her mind was racing. "It's not your job to serve justice, your job was to find them." Her voice was quiet but strong. You swallowed the lump in your throat, "I know that." There was a tension so thick in the air. "I have to send you away Y/n. You put me in this position. I also now have to move. I have to pack your things and move from that apartment." Emily's voice was getting louder and angrier. She laid her hands on the table, and you noticed how her cuticles were bleeding, she was picking at her nails. You felt so guilty for making her start doing that again. "You have broken all trust you created with me, this family. I will forever love Y/n, but not the person sitting across the table from me." Her eyes finally met yours, "I'm sorry Emily." Her hand slammed on the table, and you jumped, "Don't say my name." She stood up and left, leaving the file behind.

You opened it. There were images of the men YOU killed. You didn't know how they were killed, just that they were dead. Your stomach cramped, your cheeks got hot and you slammed it shut. Luke came in to take you to arraignment. Emily watched from the bullpen, still grasping the letter in her hand. She watched you mouth 'I love you' as the elevator doors closed. She watched as Alvez stared at you in disgust, your best friend.

Emily entered her office and closed the blinds. She closed the door and sat down chewing at her thumb. She laid the letter down and began reading it for the 34th time since Garcia gave it to her.

'My love, I'm sure by now I've already been arrested. I can't explain why I did this or how it happened. You know how I am with crimes against kids. KIDS. I will never be able to erase the damage I have created. I made a promise to you that I wouldn't hurt you like your parents or JJ did, but I did worse. I did more damage than they ever could. I'm sure this is your worst nightmare.

I will hold onto the memories you allowed me to create with you, like when we went to Key West and sweat so much we lost weight. I'll hold onto the way your hands fit in mine, how your lips perfectly fit mine. I'll hold onto the way you giggled when you saw me after a case, how you would press a kiss to my cheek and say that you're okay before I had to ask.

You learned me and my brain so fast and well. I swear you knew me better than I did until this all started. I cannot apologize enough for the mess I've created. Not just for you but for your team. Spencer loved my hugs which says a lot. Luke is my best friend. Penelope, sweet loving Penelope. I can't imagine the hurt and pain they are feeling. I'm so sorry to all of you.

I hope you can move on. I can't say I'm sorry enough Em.

-the girl you knew, Y/n"

A drop of blood fell onto the paper, Emily snapped her eyes to her thumb. "Fuck." A tear fell from her eye. She can't wrap her head around this at all, but she'll have to learn. She took the ring off her hand, the promise ring you gave her, she slipped it into her desk drawer.

[anitalenia]

━━━ 𝒆𝒓𝒈𝒐 𝒅𝒖𝒎 𝒎𝒆 𝒅𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒊𝒔 ₓ˚. ୭ pt. 3

━━ 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒔 / 𝒎𝒖𝒍𝒕𝒊𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔. the frontier boys as random tropes. ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ part one | part two | part four

˖ ࣪⭑ pairing: Pope, Ironhead, Ben, Catfish x fem!Reader

˖ ࣪⭑ content includes: dark content, sexual content, dark!teacher, serial killer, stepcest, male masturbation, female masturbation, dildos, mentions of blood and death, power imbalance, spanking, dom + sub allusions, unhealthy obsession, mentions of riding + sexual acts, taboo subjects, pillow riding, size kinks, age gap, sexy videos, blowjobs

˖ ࣪⭑ authors note: I always see Frank as being an age gap kinda guy 😭 I just see him being a funny fatherly figure that you want to do dirty things to 😜

LINKS ੈ♡˳·˖✶ 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆 | 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒔

━━ SANTIAGO ‘POPE’ GARCIA ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫, short skirts and tempting skin

You were so young and bright, so full of potential, just glittering with opportunity. You were a rising star that he needed to snatch down from the sky before you rose too far.

He was your mentor, your guide, taught you right from wrong while disobeying the very teachings he taught when he’d stare at your legs in those short skirts he swore you wore for him. He’d have to adjust his slacks at his desk every time he’d catch a glimpse of your puffy lips in those pink panties of yours.

He pictured throwing all of his papers off his desk and fucking you into the mahogany, telling you how bad of a girl you’ve been as he’d spank your ass and teach you some discipline.

He’d fail you on the tests you aced, the tests you studied weeks on end for and meticulously memorized every answer. You’d go to him just as he expected you would, confused and troubled and feeling dumb. You’d hold up the test with a big red D scribbled on the corner, almost in tears as you’d believed you’d done so well.

He’d console you, schedule a time after class where you two could meet privately and he could stare at you without the suspicion of his other students. He hated having to hide it, but he loved scooting so close to you as he pretended to be interested in whatever you said, staring at your breasts and imagining ripping your top off and having you ride him in his chair, those perky tits bouncing in his face as he taught you how to ride cock properly.

You always smelt of honey and sugar, your hair always in ringlets and your shirts always a little too tight. You were the golden rays of sunshine that warmed his brown skin, the dash of aurous flakes in his hazel eyes as he’d look at you. You were his favorite student, so eager to learn and equally as eager to please.

He was sure you’d be dumb enough to do whatever he said eventually, fall for his stupid jokes and his soft smiles, swoon at his encouragement and intelligence. He just had to play his cards right, toy with you until you believed any word he said like it was gospel, be stupid enough to believe that the only way he could think straight was when he’s had his cock sucked.

You were his favorite student, the muse to his writings, the subject of his teachings and the tempting golden apple hanging from the tree. Soon enough he was going to pluck you from those branches, but first, he needed you to believe he was the beguiled Adam to your tempting Eve, not the ever-deceiving serpent hanging from the tree.

Your favorite teacher was going to ensure that you become the catalyst of his own destruction, for his morality had already fallen long ago…

━━ WILLIAM ‘IRONHEAD’ MILLER ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫, killer cravings and deadly passions

He killed women who looked like you because he couldn’t help it. Destruction was in his marrow, gasoline flowing through his blood, fire spurting from his fingertips and burning anything he touched.

He had seen you one late night, cold and shivering, alone and vulnerable. He was covered in blood and smelt of iron and copper, dirt and earth. He would’ve scared you if you’d had seen him, run away and called the cops like any girl in your position would have.

He thought you were pretty, easily submissive and docile like a tiny doe in the meadow. He was the wolf hiding in the tall grass, hungry and bloody and hunting. He didn’t want to hurt you though, loved to look at you too much, knew no other girl would get his cock as hard as you did. He always pictured fucking you in the alleyway when you’d take the trash out, ripping off your work clothes and slicing your panties off with the edge of his knife. He knew you were too weak to deny him, too scared to fight, too beautiful to resist.

He’d follow you to work, watched you when you slept, fucked his fist outside your home in the cloak of shadow. He killed anyone who tried to pluck his precious flower, took their life as his own and left them in the dirt where the trash belonged. You were entrancing, a blood red rose growing on a grave, and he was the thorn on the stem. You were beautiful to anyone who might’ve looked, but dangerous to anyone who dare touched.

You didn’t know why death had seemed to surround you closer than community; didn’t know why every person you touched crumbled to dirt. Your hands were stained with blood whether you wanted to admit it or not, countless lives lost like you’d been collecting them as stones.

You were alone once more, just as he saw you that first night. You didn’t need family or friends when you had him, he was the soil that was going to help you grow, the sun that fed your leaves. He just had to be patient until you were ready to be plucked, ready to live in the vase he’d put you in and care for your every whim.

He couldn’t wait to finally have you with him, strapped to his bed as he fucked the handle of his knife into your wet pussy, heard your cries and moans as you’d beg and beg and he’d get harder and harder. He’d take good care of you or else he’d make you regret it.

He killed women that looked like you because he couldn’t wait to have you, finding temporary joys in their blood then incredible lows when he was done. He was getting antsy, wondering how much longer it was going to take until you were fully blossomed. He was missing you and craving you, hands buzzing to burn you.

You didn’t know it, but you had been dancing along the sharp edge of his blade, bound to get cut eventually. A meandering Bambi in the forest, bound to be caught, and a beautiful flower, bound to wither… until there was nothing left but ash.

━━ BENJAMIN MILLER ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, taboo fantasies, mutual pining

He wasn’t new in your life; you had been with him since high school and always hung off his arm and shoved him like brothers and sisters would do. He was funny and tall, was even on the wrestling team before graduation, the son of a rugged man who married your wilting mother.

He was the butt of your jokes, the annoyed prickle under your skin, the headache in your skull. But even you couldn’t deny his attractiveness; his tan skin, his toothy grin and his muscled sculpture. He was chiseled from marble, strong as stone and as beautiful as diamond.

You knew it was such a taboo subject, to fuck yourself with your pink dildo late at night, even early in the morning, cumming at the idea that it was your big, strong, stepbrother’s cock that was making you cum instead. You’d whine and moan, trying to keep quiet when you’d writhe in your bed with your pussy squelching on your fingers as you heard Benny’s laughter just outside your door.

You’d wear his shirts when he wasn’t home, act helpless so he’d reach on the shelf and get it for you when you couldn’t reach. You’d make videos of yourself cumming on your pillow as you moaned his name, your clit rubbing back and forth like it was his thigh, then watch it later. You couldn’t even stop yourself from lingering by his door when he’d bring girls home, jealous and horny at the sound of his grunts and her muffled cries coming from the other side.

Your parents were oblivious when you’d hug him for too long, he was too nice to pull away. They were oblivious when you’d wear your short shorts and tank tops and make him spend the day with you, the way you’d pretend to fall asleep in his bed when you’d watch a movie with him, wake up with his arm around you then continue on with your day like it never happened.

You weren’t sure when your obsession had started only that it had grown on you like a vine, festered inside you for years like a boil. You couldn’t even talk to him for too long without that familiar slickness forming between your legs, your skin itching for his rough hands to bend your thighs to your head and fuck you hard for being so naughty.

He’d hug you, push you, make fun of you, console you, laugh with you. You were almost deluded enough to believe it was for reasons more than two step siblings comfortable with each others differences. That he was falling for you just as much as you did him, that he sat next to you at family dinners because he liked you close to him.

But at night, when Benny would bid you farewell and retire to his own room as you did yours, as you’d pull your phone out and fuck yourself at the picture of you and him at the beach, as you’d cum on your sheets with a muffled cry, you were completely oblivious to what Benny was doing just across the hall…

His fist twisting around his hard cock, picturing it was your plushy tits he was fucking instead…

━━ FRANCISCO ‘CATFISH’ MORALES ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝐞𝐱-𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐝, shameless desire, experienced hands

He was a single man, abandoned by his wife years ago and left to raise his son by himself. He was hardworking and bullheaded, but still found time to smile between work and bed in the gossip of his son.

Your breakup with him was still fresh in the air, too tender to poke at unless you’d want an argument. Even Frank had believed you two would last long; all giddy smiles and fluttering hearts. But then you found him in bed with another woman, and your smile fell and your heart broke and Frank felt an opportunity arise.

He was a shitty father, always looked at the tight young ass of his sons girlfriend when she’d come over, bring her towels when she was in the shower, do her laundry so she had no choice but to masquerade in his flannels. He loved his son but he didn’t raise a cheater, so he didn’t feel bad when he would fuck his hand in his bedroom with one of your sparkly pink bras in his hand, one he found when he was doing an old load of laundry he’d forgotten about.

He would imagine you drooling on his balls as he tied your hair up for you, teach you how to touch him in the way he liked. He wanted to give you a man with experienced hands, a man who didn’t cheat with random bitches when there was perfectly good pussy right there by his side. He’d never discourage you, hurt you, he’d cradle your heart like a baby bird in the palms of his hands.

You came over to pick up your stuff shortly after and Frank was the only one home. He welcomed you in with a sentimental smile, giving you a hug and kiss on your forehead, savoring the feeling of your smooth skin under his work-torn palms, wondering what your lips would feel like under his.

He stared at your ass as you’d walk ahead of him when he shut the door, imagined fucking you against the dining table and licking you up clean when his son would walk in. If you saw it as revenge Frank wouldn’t have minded, just grateful to have that pussy wrapped around him and hear those moans in his ear other than down the hall from his room.

You had a sad smile on your face as you chatted politely with him, and he knew he could fuck a smile back on your face if you’d let him. He nodded his head in understanding like he didn’t want you crying around his cock instead, like he wasn’t debating whether or not to pick you up and throw you on the couch, his sons feelings be damned.

You always thought Frank was nice, kind and courteous and always had a dad joke at hand for when you’d ask. He’d sit on the recliner with a beer in his hand, slowly rocking back and forth as he’d watch a football game. You always loved the messiness of it, so unused to a man who didn’t give a damn what anybody thought about him.

You had come to the house in a final attempt to own up to your own feelings, tell Frank you wanted his hands in your hair and his tongue in your pussy just as much as you needed oxygen. But you were shy and intimidated by the maturity in him, worried he’d look at you as a pathetic little girl trying to bite more than she could chew.

Frank watched as you lingered in the hallway and gave him those pretty little eyes, your bag of clothes fiddling in your hand as he ran his eyes up and down your body like a hungry man staring at his dinner.

He could almost crack a smile at that, something in his stomach making his cock stir in his jeans as he realized you weren’t wearing a bra, your nipples poking through the fabric of your top as you stared at him with nervous lusting eyes.

He looked back at you, knowing exactly what you wanted.. and he planned on giving it to you.

thanks for reading! likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated. also, the title is a latin phrase that means, ‘so long as you love me’, for anyone who was curious. and always remember that you’re loved and important <;3

[cowgurrrl]

So This Is Love

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Author’s note: this came to me in a fever dream

Summary: A Beach Day [1.5k]

Warnings: time jump kinda (Sam is 17 and the girls are 13), me giving Dina and Jesse last names (Caradonna and Pierce) because Neil Druckman couldn’t, Lucy is Tommy and Maria’s daughter 🥸, family life, fluff

If there's one thing you've realized about your family, it's that they love nothing more than a beach day. Sam will almost immediately ask when you're going to the beach when temperatures get past the eighties. His follow-up question is always, "And can Penelope's family come with us?" Because it can never just be a Miller beach day, it has to be a Miller-Hernandez-Garcia-Long-Caradonna-Pierce beach day. As the kids have gotten older and your lives more hectic, it's nice to have a chance to get away every once in a while. Sarah, Ethan, and Isaac will drive in from Sacramento, and Ellie, Dina, Jesse, and JJ will meet you guys there since they don't live far from you, Joel, and the kids. Joel and Ryan inevitably become pack mules because they refuse to let you or Carolina carry anything, and you've both learned not to argue with them. 

That's what today has consisted of. You, Sarah, Carolina, and Maria sit in the sand as you watch your husbands unload beach chairs, towels, coolers, sand castle molds, and more. It took Sam all of ten seconds to break into Fun Uncle Mode and start a game of football with Isaac and JJ, Penelope, and Lucy joining the boys. Elizabeth, Victoria, Sophia, and Violet sit in a circle with supplies to make bracelets and whatever books they're reading at their feet, gossiping just out of earshot of their uncool parents. Ellie, Dina, and Jesse have given up on arguing with Joel about helping to unpack and have settled on wading through the water, splashing each other when they're not looking. They make a sweet little family. Unconventional, sure, but loving and amazing, nevertheless.

Once the Hernandez-Miller-Long boys unload all their stuff, they join the football game Sam started, in which nobody keeps score because they're all laughing too hard. It's fun to watch Joel and Tommy play on separate teams, the sibling rivalry coming out just enough to entertain you and Maria. You would think Joel would slow down or get tired faster than he used to, but something about the summer sunshine makes him twenty-five years old again. He goes from playing football and playfully tackling Isaac to teaching JJ how to surf, holding his hands as they stand on the board together, to bounding over to Ellie in the waves, picking her up, and throwing her in the water. "Mom!" She complains when she breaches the surface with a big smile. She laughs when you throw up your hands to let her know you can't control him. 

All the moms end up running around with sunscreen, water, and snacks to make sure nobody gets neglected, no matter who they actually belong to. You once joked with Carolina that, at this point, you basically have a commune of parents who take care of all the kids. Jesse will send birthday cards and money to the twins on their birthday. When Elizabeth got too drunk at a college party, she called you instead of her parents. Not because she didn't trust them but because she knew you'd pick up the phone even though it was two in the morning. And when Sarah gave birth to Isaac, you, Lucia, Maria, Carolina, Ellie, and Dina descended upon her home to take care of the laundry and dishes, prepare food, and ensure Sarah and Ethan slept. It's like having a huge family without the drama or strained relationships. 

After Joel has all but run himself ragged and the sun is casting purple and golden rays across the sky, he pulls you onto his lap, and you sit with him as you watch your kids. Ellie, Dina, Jesse, and JJ sit nearby, munching on sandwiches and listening to JJ's latest science fair project about space. Sarah and Ethan build sand castles with Isaac, and Ryan, Carolina, and Victoria nap together in a too-small beach chair. The only ones still up and being rowdy are Sam, Penny, and the twins. Sam is trying to teach Penny how to throw a baseball, and the twins are surfing along the coastline. The sound of the waves and the heat from Joel's body makes you sleepy as you rest against his chest, his hand drawing patterns into your thigh. 

"D'you have fun today?" He asks quietly as he kisses your temple. 

"I always have fun at the beach with you."

"Cheesy," he shakes his head, and you slap his chest. "You can't even get mad at me 'cause you know that was cheesy."

"You married me for my cheesiness."

"No, I married you for the money. Obviously." He says, and you laugh. Penelope and Sam's laughter overlaps yours, and you both turn to see them leaning against each other with big smiles. Sam's eyes twinkle familiarly in the sunset as he looks at Penny again, holding up his baseball.

"Be serious about this! When I go pro, you're gonna be the one to throw out the first pitch!" He urges, and she rolls her eyes.

"If you go pro, you'll have much bigger things to worry about than me throwing out the first pitch." She teases, and he raises his eyebrows, hiding the baseball behind his back and stepping into her. You'd have to be fucking blind not to see the way they flirt with each other. 

"Oh, yeah? Like what?" 

"Like controlling your roid rage."

"I'll have you know I've never done steroids in my life!"

"You're still young, Miller. I give it three years."

"You think that little of me?" He asks and collapses to the sand dramatically when she nods. You laugh, and Joel adjusts so your ear is by his mouth.

"They remind me of us." He whispers, and you furrow your brows as you face him. He smiles sleepily and reaches out to push your hair out of your face.

"How so?" 

"Other than the fact she just called him 'Miller,'" he says, and you smile. "'M not sure. He just... seems lighter around her. And they're always together. They have their own little language and dynamic. Not to mention, anyone with eyes in a twenty-mile radius can see how hopelessly in love he is with that girl."

"I thought you married me for my money."

"I mean, that was a plus, but I married you 'cause I couldn't imagine spendin' another moment without you as my partner and 'cause I wanted to be with you every day," he says as he kisses your jaw. "'Cause I was and still am hopelessly in love with you." You take a deep breath as you wrap your arm around his shoulders and lean back to look at him in all his sunburnt nose, heavy, happy-eyed glory. 

He's aged in the years since you've been together. His hair is a little more gray than brown, and the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes have deepened through late-night feeds, early-morning school drop-offs, tours, movies, albums, everything. You've aged too. You're not the same twenty-something you were when you met Joel, but you love this version of yourself. You love this version of your marriage and family and can't wait to see what joy the next version will bring you. You lean down and kiss him. He tastes like sea salt and beer and him. His beard scratches your face, but his hands on your skin are soft and heavy. You remember an old song from the original Cinderella film. She hums it after meeting her Prince Charming and goes home utterly in love with him. You swear, if this moment were a shot from a movie, that song would play over this moment.

"Cheesy." You mumble against his lips.

"Oh, that was cheesy?" He asks, and you hum. In one movement, he secures you in his arms and stands. You squeal and hold onto him for dear life as he starts walking through the sand. "I'll show you cheesy." 

"Joel!" You yell as he walks into the cold water and dunks the both of you under within two seconds. You don't see or hear it happen through the salt water in your eyes and your laughter, but your family rushes into the water after you—all of them. Ryan picks up Carolina, Ethan picks up Sarah, Jesse, and Dina work together to grab Ellie, and Sam picks up Penny, and they all run into the water. The kids follow suit, and before you realize it, all your favorite people are in the water with you, laughing and smiling as they cling to each other amidst the waves. Sophia jumps on Joel's back, and he goes underwater with all three of you as the sun sets overhead and the moon slowly appears over the cliffs. You're shaking from the cold and clinging to Joel, but you can't stop smiling. There's no place you'd rather be than here, freezing in the water with your family as the sun sets on another perfect Miller-Hernandez-Garcia-Long-Caradonna-Pierce beach day.

[aliciamillergarcia]

Characters: Alicia Miller-Garcia & OPEN Location: Deja Brew Open Starter @providencepeakstarters

Days when their town was blessed with a beautiful winter sun coinciding with her days off were a rare occurrence indeed. It was a no-brainer that this specific day would be spent outside, enjoying whatever rays of sunshine she could with Cooper and Hazel. The little girl was busy playing in the small playground nearby with her grandmother, allowing Alicia to just enjoy a hot cup of coffee in peace and quiet. Cooper was just as glad to bask in the sun, lying down next to Alicia and digging his nose in the pup cup she had gotten him. Being the goofy dog he was, he lifted his head only to sniff at the person walking past, with cream all over his nose. "I'm so sorry if he's gotten any cream on you!" She exclaimed, realizing how close Cooper had gotten to the person.

[supermarvel-fics]

Tickletober Day 30: Flinch

fandom: criminal minds

word count: 870

pairing: penelope garcia x reader (platonic)

summary: penelope began playing a game with you and you can't take it anymore

Penelope Garcia scared the shit out of you, but not in the way most people would think.

Penelope was a ray of sunshine. Positively delightful to be around on days when you found that you couldn’t even fake a smile and she prided herself on that. However, Penelope wasn’t shy to mischief and once she found out about your ticklishness, you were done for.

At first, it was just subtle pokes in the abdomen to get you to lighten up, but as the weeks went on, Penelope began upping the ante. She would squeeze your kneecap during meetings, pinch your sides when she snuck up behind you, and one time she even trapped you in an elevator and tickled you silly.

So, yeah, you were terrified of Penelope Garcia because you never knew when or where she would strike.

Recently, she began playing this little game with you where she would reach her hand out to your side or lunge at you unexpectedly just to see how hard you’d flinch. She had you on edge for close to a week and she hadn’t even touched you.

Your final straw was when she had faked you out after you’d returned home from a case and you looked extra burnt out. Penelope saw that you were the last one to leave, so she took the opportunity to sneak up on you and pretend as if she was going to tickle you. Of course, you had flinched and inhaled sharply, preparing yourself for her impending attack just like you did every time, but this time you’d had enough.

“UGH! Penelope!” You yelled, more frustrated at the situation than at her. “If you’re gonna do it, just do it!”

You wish you could have retracted what you’d said the second you saw Penelope’s lips curve into a smirk. “You’re giving me permission?” She asked. You sighed and shook your head.

“N-No, that’s not what I meant… I’m just tired of this little game you keep playing,” You explained yourself, turning back to your belongings to pack up for the night.

“You mean you don’t love flinching every single time I reach my arm out towards you?”

Penelope did as described, only this time actually wiggling a finger into your side, smiling as she watched you flinch out of instinct and arch away.

“Penelope…” You whined, turning to look at her with a pout. She chuckled at your reaction, holding her hands up in surrender.

“Alright, alright, I promise I won’t do it anymore. You just look a little down and I thought you could use some cheering up,” She uttered out. You sighed and looked at the ground.

“Yeah, it was a tough one. I’m just exhausted,” You mumbled, bringing a hand up to press your thumb and middle finger to your temples to try and rid yourself of the upcoming headache. You heard Penelope click her tongue which prompted you to glance back up at her, seeing that her arms were open wide.

“Come here,” She beckoned, waving her hands to silently tell you to hug her. You smiled sadly and walked forward into her arms, wrapping yours around her as tight as you could. Your head rested on her chest and inhaled slowly, taking in the moment.

You wouldn’t lie and say the playfulness of your relationship with Penelope wasn’t fun. Physical touch was your love language, after all, but this was your favorite. Just being held by someone who cared about you.

You stayed in that hug for what felt like an hour, just relishing in the weight that it held. Penelope cared for you and your happiness.

“Feeling better?” She asked after minutes of listening to your breathing. You hummed and squeezed her a bit tighter.

“Much better. Thank you.”

“Good. I’m glad. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I did say you needed a bit of cheering up,” She responded back, her tone of voice changing dramatically. You knew that tone well enough to know what was about to happen and unluckily for you, you had fallen straight into her trap.

Where Penelope’s fingers were resting against your ribcage, she began contracting them harshly and vibrating them into the crevices of the bones. You, of course, flinched at the suddenness and fell into thunderous laughter. Your legs weakened and Penelope had to hold you up so you didn’t completely fall to the ground.

“GAHAHARCIA! YOHOU TRAITOHOHOR!” You screeched into her chest, hiccupping as you struggled to catch your breath.

“As a profiler, I cannot believe you didn’t see this coming,” She taunted you, tickling every sensitive spot on your ribs and back that she could reach.

“OKAHAY! I’M FEHEELING BETTER NOHOHOW!”

Penelope ceased her attack and unwrapped her arms from around you once she was sure you wouldn’t immediately collapse to the ground, grinning smugly at the sight of your pink cheeks and ticklish smile.

“If all I need to do is tickle you to put you in a better mood, just say the word,” Penelope teased you. You scoffed and slapped her arm before continuing to put away the case files.

“I hate you,” You replied with a reciprocated grin. You knew damn well that you didn’t mean it.

[dungeons-are-too-cold]

Hey, could I just request a Garcia x nb or gn!reader? R is a hacker cybercrime unit, is polar opposite to Garcia (not so much outgoing, kinda dark if you get what I mean lol), and BAU just being surprised because they never suspected it. Thank you! Have a wonderful day/night! <3

I hope this is too your liking! This was actually an amazing prompt and I absolutely loved writing it! There isn't enough Garcia content in the world so I'm always happy to write some! I broke things up into three parts so i could write a bit about how you met and everything too, I hope thats alright Warnings: Nothing really, mentions of alcohol, mentions of existentialism very briefly Word count: 1.6k

You and Penelope had been dating for a few months, but it was taking a while for you to feel comfortable with meeting her team; at least meeting them as he partner. You had seen the BAU in passing, obviously, often in the elevator as they were just a few floors above the cyber crime unit where you worked, but your limited interactions so far had gone not exactly well.

The last time the BAU needed the cyber crime unit’s help was actually how you and Penelope met. Your differences were immediately noticeable. Her bright clothes and fancy jewelry really stood out against your all-black ensemble. Cyber crime is no joke and their dress code let you know that. You didn’t mind it, as standing out wasn’t exactly what you wanted to do, but that’s what Penelope was all about. She was like a ray of sunshine. Immediately she wanted to be close to you, share her computer space, and gush over your Linux systems. She even offered to take you to lunch, which you reluctantly accepted. That lunch was the best thing that ever happened to you, and the two of you had been dating ever since. The rest of the case was not as great.

You know how Penelope does that whole flirting thing with her coworkers? Yeah, well, your quips usually come out a little more existential than endearing. When Reid had to sit down for a while after your comment on the inherent amoral nature of the universe and the random assignment of meaning and value that people have given action and identity, you didn’t think they were stoked on having you around. You couldn’t wait to get back to cyber crimes either.

            With that said, Penelope was very important to you, and you would do absolutely anything to make her happy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Penelope’s birthday was coming up and she was super excited. You were over at her place for a movie date one night when you could hear her talking to Morgan on the phone in the other room. They seemed to be discussing details about the party he was planning with Rossi, and it really caught you off guard.

            “So, sweet cheeks, I actually have someone you need to add to that guest list of yours… Yeah it’s a little bit of a surprise…okay well all I can tell you is that they are very special to me, and I want them to meet all of you for real, as my family.” Immediately you rushed over to your girlfriend trying to get her to pause the phone call. Penelope struggled to swat you away, which ended up turning into a full-on chase around her apartment. Still, she continued. “I may or may not be talking about my partner, but until the party you just put that out of that pretty little head of yours. Just make sure there’s a seat for them next to me at the table, okay I love you! Bye!”

            Penelope slammed her phone down on the table a little too hard as she ended the call.

            ‘What was that about?” you started.

            “I could say the same to you baby, do you not wanna come to my birthday party?” Garcia feigned upset; she is nothing if not dramatic.

            “Of course, I want to be there, just, I know your friends don’t like me. And I’m not exactly the most enthused party guest, I’ll have no idea what to say or what to even do with my hands!”

            “Your hands will be in mine the whole time,” she cooed as she pulled you closer to her. “They are going to love you because I love you, okay?”

            “I love you too.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            You did your best to put the party out of your head until you were walking up the driveway to Rossi’s mansion. In an attempt to dry your palms, you rubbed your hands down the front of your black jeans and smoothed out your shirt. Just as you were about to turn back to the car, Derek Morgan burst through the front door to greet Penelope, nearly picking her up with his hug.

            “There’s my favorite birthday girl! Happy birthday, baby!” He said as he spun her around. As she came back to her original position next to you, Derek finally acknowledged you were here. “Hey, Y/n, right? From cyber crimes?” Morgan seemed incredibly confused as to why exactly you were here. You couldn’t tell if it was good or bad though.

            “Yes! Derek, they are actually my partner and special guest for the night so be nice” Penelope said as she playfully nudged her best friend’s shoulder. His face immediately lit up upon learning the special place you had in Penny’s life.

            “Well, it’s great to see you again, Y/n, and welcome! Let’s get the two of y’all inside now, it’s getting kinda chilly out here.” Derek stepped aside and let the two of you find your way through the front door. Almost sensing your anxiety like a superpower of hers, Penelope placed her hand in yours and led the way.

            Rossi’s home was massive, much bigger than anything you had ever seen before. It almost made the team look smaller than it actually was in comparison. JJ and Emily were having a glass of wine in the kitchen with a man you assumed was JJ’s partner Will. Reid and two little boys were sat on the floor with some crayons at the coffee table, coloring in what looked like Spider-man coloring books. Hotch watched the three of them fondly with a whiskey in hand as he and Rossi chatted away on the couch.

            “So, I know you’ve met the team, but that in the kitchen is Will, and those two little boys are Henry, who is JJ and Will’s son, and Jack who is Hotch’s son,” Penelope explained before the room had noted your presence. The second everyone saw Penny walk in, though, they were all over her, showering her in hugs and affection. You let yourself be pushed to the side, not wanting to get caught in all the hugging and touching quite yet.

            “Happy birthday Auntie Penelope!” the two boys squealed in unison, like they had been practicing all night.

            “Happy birthday, Pen” Emily and JJ said as they sandwiched her from either side.

            The boys all gave Penelope a kiss on the cheek and made their way back towards their seats until Rossi noticed you off to the side.

            “And is this y/n from cyber crimes? So, you’re the partner Derek has been telling us about all night? He said Penelope seemed quite smitten over the phone.” The room seemed oddly quiet as you sent a small wave to everyone.

            “Yes, y/n and I have actually been dating since that case we worked with them. It was love at first sight.” Penny lovingly sighed as she cuddled up on your arm, leading you to a seat on the couch.

            “Well, congrats you two,” Hotch said taking a seat across from you both. “Honestly, though, I have to say I’m` surprised.”

            “I hope that’s nothing bad,” you joked. They were the first words you had spoken all night, and you were already dreading where the night was going.

            “Oh, not at all. Our Penelope is just, quite…unique.”

            “Which is a polite way of saying she can’t keep secrets” Emily said as she shot Penelope a side glance. “I think we’re all just a little shocked that she was able to keep this under wraps for so long.”

            “The two of you seem so different as well,” JJ chimed in. She wasn’t wrong. You were sure that she assumed Penny would want someone more outgoing and social. Even you had thought that at the beginning of your relationship. The two of you seemed to balance each other out though, and that’s what you loved.

            “I think we help keep each other sane,” you joked again, starting to get into a rhythm with the team. “The balance is actually really nice.” The team seemed enamored with you. It was nice to know that your first impression hadn’t ruined things completely. Surprise aside, they were all very happy for you and Penelope. You could tell they just wanted Penny to be happy, and she seemed ecstatic to have you on her arm tonight as her date. Finally, you felt yourself relax as you watched the conversation around you.

            “So, what took you so long to bring y/n around to the family dinners?” Rossi asked Penelope.

            “Well, we just wanted to take things slow. As crazy as I am, you lot can get a bit rowdy when you’re wine drunk.” She said as she gave side eyes back to Emily as payback for earlier that evening.

            “Also, after I nearly broke Dr. Reid on that case, I was a little hesitant to meet everyone again,” you chimed in.

            “Actually, I found your line of question on morality quite intriguing, and I ended up doing quite a bit of reading on moral codes and evolution of humanity, especially in the context of developing society, and I’ve even been reading up on existentialism as well. It’s quite- ”

            “Thank you, boy genius,” Penelope interrupted, “but it is in fact my birthday and I’d like to believe that there is still some good in the world, so maybe let’s hold off on the Sartre before dinner?”

            “We’ll have to chat reading at some point,” Reid remarked to you before heading to refill his drink. “You want anything y/n?”

            “Thanks, but I think I’m alright for now,” you said, but you were much more than alright. You had everything you could possibly want in life with Penelope on your arm. She was your world, and you were just happy to be in hers.

I hope this was what you were looking for! I had a really great time writing it so let me know what you think in the comments! Sorry it took so long for me to get this one out, I'm going back to school rn so I've been getting ready for my college semester lately lol, but this was such a good time to write so i hope ur happy with it! Send an ask/request here! Check out my master list here!

[satansapostle6]

Characters I Write For

Please message me with any ideas/requests! I need ideas(short fics or series)

Mostly write for fem!readers. I can write fluff, angst, smut, etc. If I’m not comfortable with something I can let you know

Character/Actor List

Favorite Characters/Actors To Write For

Draco Malfoy, Weasley twins

Jesse Pinkman

Paul Dano characters

Josh Hutcherson characters

Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel

Damon Salvatore, Silas, Klaus Mikaelson, Kol Mikaelson

Rodrick Heffley

Bellamy Blake

Ezra Fitz(should probably make it clear I don’t condone)

Ian Duncan(Community)

Charlie(It’s Always Sunny)

Luke Castellan, Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase

Finnick Odair

Tommy Shelby

Killian Hook

Paul Dano

Klitz(The Girl Next Door)

Dwayne Hoover(Little Miss Sunshine)

Edward Nashton(The Batman)

Calvin Weir-Fields(Ruby Sparks)

Brian Wilcox(Fast Food Nation)

Joby Taylor(For Ellen)

Nick Flynn(Being Flynn)

Josh Hutcherson

Peeta Mellark(The Hunger Games)

Mike Schmidt(FNAF)

Josh Futturman(Future Man)

Devon Bostick

Rodrick Heffley(Diary of a Wimpy Kid)

Jasper Jordan(The 100)

Cillian Murphy

Tommy Shelby(Peaky Blinders)

Dr. Jonathan Crane(The Dark Knight)

Neil(Watching the Detectives)

Christian Bale

Patrick Bateman(American Psycho)

Bruce Wayne(The Dark Knight)

Breaking Bad

Jesse Pinkman

Jane Margolis

Saul Goodman

Harry Potter(Golden Trio Era)

Harry Potter

Ron Weasley

Hermione Granger

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Ginny Weasley

Luna Lovegood

Neville Longbottom

Draco Malfoy

Pansy Parkinson

Blaise Zabini

Theodore Nott

Daphne Greengrass

Adrian Pucey

Terence Higgs

Harry Potter(Marauders Era)

James Potter

Remus Lupin

Sirius Black

Lily Potter

Severus Snape

Regulus Black

Lucius Malfoy

Narcissa Malfoy

Bellatrix Lestrange

Arthur Weasley

Harry Potter(Fantastic Beasts Era)

Newt Scamander

Queenie Goldstein

Leta Lestrange

Percy Jackson

Percy Jackson

Annabeth Chase

Luke Castellan

Thalia Grace

Jason Grace

+ Gods

Criminal Minds

Spencer Reid

Aaron Hotchner

Emily Prentiss

Derek Morgan

JJ

Penelope Garcia

David Rossi

Elle Greenaway

Cat Adams

Megan Kane

Supernatural

Dean Winchester

Sam Winchester

John Winchester

Mary Winchester

Castiel

Charlie Bradbury

Rowena McLeod

Adam Milligan

Lucifer

Ruby

Jessica Moore

Gabriel

Benny Lafitte

Bela Talbot

Jo Harvelle

Ellen Harvelle

Gilmore Girls

Lorelai Gilmore

Christopher Hayden

Luke Danes

Logan Huntzberger

Jess Mariano

The Hunger Games

Peeta Mellark

Katniss Everdeen

Gale Hawthorn

Finnick Odair

Johanna Mason

Haymitch Abernathy

Pretty Little Liars

Aria Montgomery

Spencer Hastings

Emily Fields

Hannah Marin

Mona Vanderwaal

Alison Di Laurentis

Jason Di Laurentis

Ezra Fitz

Toby Cavanaugh

Jenna Marshall

Caleb Rivers

The Vampire Diaries

Damon Salvatore

Stefan Salvatore

Katherine Pierce

Elena Gilbert

Jeremy Gilbert

Bonnie Bennett

Caroline Forbes

The Originals

Klaus Mikaelson

Elijah Mikaelson

Kol Mikaelson

Rebekah Mikaelson

Freya Mikaelson

Hayley Marshall

Marcel Gerard

Davina Claire

Twilight

Edward Cullen

Bella Swan

Alice Cullen

Jasper Hale

Rosalie Hale

Emmett Cullen

Victoria

The 100

Bellamy Blake

Octavia Blake

Jasper Jordan

Shameless

Fiona Gallagher

Lip Gallagher

Carl Gallagher

Frank Gallagher

Mandy Milkovich

Kevin Ball

Veronica Fisher

The Bear

Carmy Berzatto

Sydney Adamu

Richie Jerimovich

Suicide Squad

Harley Quinn

Rick Flag

Blackguard

Once Upon A Time

Emma Swan

Regina Mills

Killian Jones

Rumplestiltskin

Robin Hood

Ruby

Hades

Community

Jeff Winger

Abed Nadir

Annie Edison

Troy Barnes

Ian Duncan

It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia

Charlie Kelly

Dennis Reynolds

Dee Reynolds

Mac

Cricket

House MD

Greg House

Robert Chase

James Wilson

Lisa Cuddy

Parks and Recreation

Ben Wyatt

April Ludgate

Andy Dwyer

MCU, Marvel

Steve Rogers

Tony Stark

Natasha Romanoff

Bruce Banner

Wanda Maximoff

Loki Laufeyson

Peter Parker(Holland, Garfield, Maguire)

Gamora

Peter Quill

Scott Lang

Steven Strange

Jessica Jones

Wade Wilson

DC CW

Oliver Queen

Barry Allen

Felicity Smoak

Laurel Lance

Sara Lance

Malcom Merlyn

John Constantine

Leonard Snart

Ray Palmer

Caitlyn Snow

Julian Albert

Rip Hunter

10 Things I Hate About You

Patrick Verona

Cameron James

New Girl

Jess Day

Nick Miller

Schmidt

Other Characters

Charlie Kelmeckis(Perks Of Being A Wallflower)

Jesse Eisenberg Characters

Dr. Who(10th Doctor)

Will Probably Add More