#i want a jj so someone please supply one

[k1ngpin42]

Hey guys, this is my first post so I’ll need to set up some ground rules, feel free to skip.

First of all I write NSFW/18+ content, but I will write other content upon request. If you are a minor, evaluate whether or not you will interact with my content at your own risk, but if you find it innaproopitate, please scroll.

I’m an Abby girly, but this is just a Dina fic to test the waters, a full Abby NSFW fic will be released on my page soon too. 

The plot dragged on more than I would have liked, I’ll have the smut in bold if u want to skip to that ;)

———————————————————

Comforting Dina after Ellie leaves

You were relatively new to Jackson. You had been picked up by Jesse’s patrol when moving through a dangerous part of town and had been offered a place there if you could pull your weight. You are a good shot, and cook, for that matter, so finding your place wasn’t too difficult. Still, you felt like an outsider to people who had been there most or all of their lives, and Dina was one of the people who made the adjustment the smoothest. 

You always felt safe with her, and had even developed feelings. When you watched her kiss Ellie that night in town, you let your heart break for the last time before moving on. 

At least, you thought you had moved on. You still thought about her every day, even if you tried to push the thoughts away.

You were coming back from a regular supply route when you spotted a girl on a horse. She had beautiful, silky black hair in a bun and was wearing a pale yellow flannel. 

Was that…?

“It’s Dina!” Someone called excitedly from the gate. 

A sharp sensation ran through your body and you found yourself letting out a shaky breath you weren’t aware you had been holding.

Dina. The girl who in the middle of a fucking outbreak, has more fire than a group of soldiers combined. The girl who makes dumb jokes that only she could make sound so sweet. The girl who’s smile was brighter than any light the fireflies so desperately wanted to find, the girl you…liked.

You pull the reins and approach the gate swiftly, leaving your patrol group behind. 

When you dismount at the gate and lock eyes with her, it was as if all your pain was, not forgotten, but almost gone. As if Dina had stuck bandaids over the wound.

 Dina lets out an excited gasp and runs at you, holding you in her arms tightly.

“I was hoping you’d be here.” She speaks quietly, still smiling as she pulls away from the hug. You nod, barely looking into her eyes as you feel the heat rush to your cheeks.

“Is everything okay? Why’s Ellie not with you guys?” You ask as you plant a soft kiss on JJ’s forehead. 

A pale look touches Dina’s ordinarily warm features, and you know immediately what that look implies. 

“Oh…oh I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-“

“It’s fine. She’s gone.” Dina says, forcing a soft smile and ignoring the tears in her eyes.

“We’ll have a patrol pick up your stuff tomorrow.” Mariah says, approaching Dina and giving her a hug herself. 

Mariah walks behind you, leaning in to your ear. 

“Look after her, you’re dismissed from your duties today, your only job is putting a smile on that girl, okay?” She whispers, and Dina seems too lost in her own head to notice. 

You nod. “Of course, thank you.”

You take her hand and lead her through the town.

“You hungry?” You ask, eyes wide with worry. She nods.

“Yeah, actually, but I don’t really want to be smothered by people right now.”

“Oh, sorry do you want me to-“

“No, I want you to stay.” She reaffirms, and you nod, still feeling considerably nervous.

You walk past the butcher and the man working there smiles brightly.

“It’s great to have you back Din’s!” Dina forces a smile again.

“Yea…thanks.” She says.

“Uh…What can I get you guys? It’s on me today.” The man says again. You nod and look at the options.

“I’ll get some of those sausages and I know it’s a stupid question but, do you have any steak?” He laughs.

“The answer to that would be no, but Dina can have my sandwich, I was saving it for later but it’s the real good stuff, had to give some trading cards and ammo but, I’m only the cook, what would I do with ammo anyways.”

“Kill me some steak maybe?” You remark, making Dina smile. 

“I’m pretty sure he would kill the cow…I don’t think you can “kill steak” Dina informs her, an amused expression still evident. 

“Potato potato Dina.” She turns to face the man again.

“What’s in it?” Dina asks. 

“Premium pork-“

“She’s Jewish…” You say, instinctively. She looks at you and the man just has a confused expression.

“So…?”

“Well Jewish people typically don’t eat Pork or…shellfish, so-“

“Oh sorry, I didn’t know. 

“How did you know that?” Dina asks. You shrug. 

“You told me you were Jewish so I read a book about it.” You explain, matter-of-factly. She looks impressed, but doesn’t say anything.

The man hands you the bag with the meat inside.

“Thanks.” You say, leading Dina away again.

“Is there anyone you want to say hi to?” You question. You can hear the snow crunch under your feet. She shakes her head.

“Not today, not like this.” You nod.

“I’ll take you back to yours then, grill you up some lunch. Smothered in onion right?”

“The smellier the better.” She laughs weakly. 

When you get to her place, the cold air hits you square on and you both shiver.

“Fuck it’s cold.” Dina remarks, and you can’t help but laugh at her bluntness. 

“I’ll get a fire going.” You tell her, taking the lighter out of your pocket. You turn the power on and put the sausage in the fridge.

“I really need a shower…” Dina admits, and you turn to look at her again.

“Uh…alright, yeah I’ll just…I’ll just wait here.”

“Thanks.” She says, walking up to her room and folding up some clothes by her bed. 

You then see her turn on the hot water generator and step in to the shower. 

You wait by the fire for 5 minutes, then 10. Then, a faint voice over the bathroom exhaust. 

“Hey can you come in here please?” You stand up, nervously and make your way to the bathroom, opening the door only a fraction and turning around so you can’t see her. 

“I’m here…” You explain, your voice sounding more high pitched than usual and making you cringe. 

“I couldn’t find a towel and it’s freezing out. Can you try and find one for me?” She asks. Your cheeks, now a new shade, shape into a nervous smile.

“Of course, where should I look?”

“My room, it’s at the top.”

“Sure.” 

————————————

When you return, you see Dina, completely exposed, standing in front of you out of the shower. 

You immediately turn around and shut your eyes, bumping into the door during the commotion. She chuckles.

“Turn around.” She instructs, and you do so with your hand over your eyes. Dina rolls her eyes, grabbing your hand and placing it back down.

“What are-“ You don’t even know what to say, you don’t even know what words are anymore. Instead, you just admire her body, the way her complexion paints her body like the artwork it is. The way her hips curve out ever so slightly in ways that her devilish clothing concealed. 

“Why didn’t you write me?” She asks, trying not to smile at your currently dropped jaw.

“I um…” With her permission, you now glance at her breasts. You try to convince yourself you’ve never thought about what they might look like before, but you give up trying to convince yourself of that and decide they are more beautiful than anything you have or could have imagined. 

“Did you not get my letters?” She asks, and now you look back to her eyes.

“Um…I did.” You admit, feeling the heat spread to the back of your neck now.

“Ah, so you just didn’t want to respond?” You roll your eyes.

“That’s not it.” 

“Then what?” She asks, sounding more angry than you would have thought. She lets out a deep breath.

“I thought about you all the time, you know? Did you ever think about me?”

“All the time. But how was I supposed to respond? ‘Dear Dina, I’m so happy you and your girlfriend decided to raise sheep and a baby together away from everyone, I’d go visit but I have duty, send my regards to Ellie?’ 

“Okay, okay, but you could have at least kept me informed, tell me about your life, I mean you could have been dead for all I know.”

“You wouldn’t have believed that.” 

“Don’t be so full of yourself. You may have never missed a shot with a rifle, you may not be the kind of girl to go into a house without taking out every single infected first, but I hate to break it to you, you’re not invincible. As unlikely at it would have been, you could have been dead.”

"Fine. But you wouldn’t have cared what I had to say anyway. ‘Dear Dina, I woke up, had breakfast, went on patrol with another stranger who I wished on everything was you instead, but they weren't. I went home, showered and slept like I do every day.”

“I would have cared. I do.” She mutters. You sigh.

“Well I’m sorry. It was just hard for me, hearing you so happy with someone so…” 

Dina’s eyebrows raise.

“Yes?” 

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have.”

“Finish your sentence.” Dina argues. You take a deep breath.

“Stupid. She was stupid to have left you, I never would.”

“Yeah well, Joel was the only person Ellie loved.”

“You don’t really believe that…”

“Well to think she truly loved me and chose to leave anyway for a bit of revenge hurts even worse.” You don’t know what to say, you just nod and hand her her towel. She tosses it on the ground.

“Want to hear what I left out in my letters?”

You’re still blushing over her naked body, but nod.

“sure.”

“Dear (reader) I’m trying to be happy with Ellie and JJ and yet all I can think about is you. Sometimes Ellie treats me like I’m nothing and I know why she does, but it hurts to think how well you would treat me if you were here. You’d probably tell me, “it’s okay…” She pauses. “I’m here…” You’d say.” You don’t know how to react to this, so you just keep listening.

“Dear (reader), Ellie left today, and even though it hurt, like nothings hurt before, I feel like a horrible person.” You walk towards her, looking upset at her words.

“Why would you feel like a horrible person?” Dina lowers her head, looking ashamed.

“Because even though I did love her, when she left it felt freeing, and then I saw you at that gate and it felt as if the part of me she took was never really gone at all.”

“Dina…”

“No, don’t fight it.” She says, grabbing your face and placing a warm kiss on your mouth. You sink into the heat of the kiss, tasting her more passionately now. You pull away from the kiss and you see her eyes, consumed with darkened lust.

“Dina.” You say again, more stern this time.

“You broke up with Ellie only a few weeks ago, you’re still hurting and I will NOT be your rebound. Not when I have spent almost an entire yer lo…” You stop yourself.

“You mean a lot to me Dina, I’m not going to ruin this-“

“Please.” Dina says, kissing your neck and making your legs feel weak as a result.

“I’ve been craving you for longer than you could ever realise. I didn’t even truly know till…till I saw you just now” She says between breaths, wrapping her arms over your neck to pull you into a hug. The warmth of her bare skin is elevating, and it feels like every sensation you experience is heightened. 

“I’m not going to take advantage of you Dina.”

“You think I’m unattractive?” She asks, and you pull away from the hug, putting a hand on her face.

“Dina, when I look at you I don’t just see my best friend, I see the most beautiful of women. The girl I have liked since I first came to Jackson.” You explain, feeling emotional to bring these thoughts to words. 

“You are a rare jewel, and I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.”

“I know you think I’m not acting on logic, but there has always been something between us. Ellie…she was like an addiction, something I thought I needed to function. I always had to be one way with her, but with you I feel happy, safe. I’ve dreamt of this ever since Ellie and I broke up and I spent the whole ride here just wishing you would feel it back.”

Smutttttttt ya’lllll

—————————————————————

“I….don’t want you to regret this.”

“Then don’t give me anything to regret.” Dina speaks smoothly, kissing you deeply again. You sigh into her mouth and let your tongues dance as your hands slowly lower to her shoulders, your fingers gently trailing her cold skin, still damp and glistening with small water droplets.

You push her back against the sink, the air between you two barely existent as you gasp excitedly and desperately between kisses. 

You lower yourself, putting yourself into a position between her legs.

“Can I?” You ask, and Dina gleams at the indication of what you want to do, her head leaning back with anticipation. 

You take a moment to admire her cunt, drawing a line between her folds all the way up to her clit with your thumb.

She’s already wet. You can tell by the way your finger glides in, the way she glistens, it turns you on even more, if that were possible. Then, with your thumb still on her clit, you start doing tricks with your index finger, enjoying the sounds of her shaky breaths as you finger her with just the tip of your index finger.

You continue with your fingers, pushing your entire index finger inside this time. She cries out, moaning in pleasure. You remove your finger and suck your index and middle finger before putting them both inside her. You doubt it would have made a differences, she was so wet anyway it would have gone in like two pieces of a perfect puzzle. After caressing the inside of her cunt with your fingers for a few minutes, you decide to finally feed the burning desire to taste her, to feel her come undone on your tongue.

Without so much as a warning, you start eating away at her cunt, sucking and licking sloppily, savouring every inch of her like it’s a 3 course meal.

“F….fucking h… mmm…” Dina struggles, biting her middle finger softly in a barely successful attempt of suppressing the sounds escaping her lips. 

You smile, using this as an excuse for more air before going back and attacking her again with your tongue. She tastes so fucking good. You could get drunk off the taste, in fact, you would be a fucking alcoholic if that was the case.

“Oh shit…Oh sh…mmm….so-“ She struggles, letting out a deeper moan this time. “good.”

You move your tongue faster in circular motions on her clit while sucking on her lower lips at the same time. By this point, anything Dina tries to say is inaudible, replaced with fast paced moans and whimpers.

“S….s…mmm…..so..clo-“ She cries out. You don’t stop. You keep going even after it pulses in your mouth and your throat is filled with your new favourite taste. The taste of her.

When it becomes too much for her, she pulls your face away, breathing deeply, eyes slightly shut from the overstimulation. 

“Was that…” You hesitate, face red. “Good?” Dina laughs.

“Fuck off.” She manages, still in a stage of ecstasy. 

“I don’t want to move too fast or anything but…do you want to have…” You say, clearing your throat “um…” Dina smiles again, nodding.

“Fuck yeah.” With this, you pick her up and bring her to the bedroom just outside the door. As soon as you two are on the bed, she practically tears your shirt off, immediately kissing all over your body. She flips you so her body is on top of yours. 

“You look so fucking hot Dina…” You breathe out as she bites down slightly on your neck. She rolls her eyes playfully. 

She pulls off your underwear, tossing it on the floor beside her bed.

“I want to do it to you too.” Dina says casually, and you initially feel insecure about letting her, but you agree.

“Mm.” You say as she disappears under the covers. You then feel her hands pulling your legs apart and you help part the way for her. You practically shiver as the starts tonguing your pussy delicately, with a lot more precision than when you did it to her, as if starved. 

She then started sucking and the moan that left your mouth was instantaneous. She keeps going and you feel yourself started to soak as you claw on to the bed sheets below. 

“Feels so good.” You say, and she keeps going till you feel your body tremble and pulse. She looks up at your, feeling satisfied with your expression. She wipes her mouth with her thumb and then sucks on it for a second, maintaining eye contact with you.

So goes back to the previous position, pulling your body down so it’s below her.

“It’s still cold.” She states as the bareness of your bodies connect. You smirk beneath her.

“Whatever will we do about it?” 

“Just shut the fuck up and fuck me.” She orders, and so you let her have her way. 

She pushes your leg down and positions herself so she is sitting over it, then you feel her pussy rub on yours and your eyes immediately roll back at the sensation. Without the pleasure of your clit even in the equation yet, you feel as if you’re melting. 

Then, she pulls you in closer, moving you just right and making you moan desperately. 

“Dina please…” You sigh out as she moves her hips painfully slow in a circular motion.

“J…just like that.” You say again. 

Her hands are on your thighs when she starts to pick up speed. She’s moaning too now, her beautiful features looking even better covered in sweat and pleasure. 

“Faster….please?” You ask, your voice sounding more helpless than you would have liked. She continues at her current pace, a cruel smirk on her mouth.

“This…” She gasps, riding the sensation. “Is for not stopping earlier when I had already…” You try to increase your own pace and she shoves your legs back down with her full body strength. 

“You can come when I say.” She gasps, wrapping her fingers softly around your neck. 

“You like that?”

“Mmm.” You reply, eyes closed shut. It isn’t long before a familiar sensation stirs in the pit of your stomach, as bad as you wanted to come, and also didn’t want this to end, it was the best and most conflicting thing you had ever experienced. , 

Dina finally complied and went faster, and you sing out a chorus of moans and whispers.

“I’m gonna cum…” Dina says, still holding you close. “Cum with me.” She says again. You nod, kissing her quickly as you both release on top of each other, liquid lining your bodies and trailing down onto the bed. 

You just hold each other, ignoring the stickiness of the situation and letting comfortable silence fall before you too fall back onto the bed, looking into her eyes fondly. 

“Do you…regret it yet?” You ask. She shakes her head. 

“The only thing I regret is wasting all that water, I’m going to need another shower after all that…excitement.” You both laugh. You lean into her ear and whisper, “We can save water by showering together?” Her smirk widens and she nods.

“The things we do for this town.”

“Mhm.”

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Darkness Declares Glory | Chapter 14 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N - this fic deals with some very dark themes such as drug use, self-harm and suicidal ideation. Please proceed with caution and Minors DNI. There is a reader insert but it is very Spencer-centric.

Chapter Summary - Spencer makes a decision regarding Cat. But before he has a chance to follow through he makes a startling realisation that could very well be his undoing.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | eventual happy ending.

Warnings - mentions of Cat Adam’s, talk of death penalty, therapy, brief mention of masturbation, swearing.

WC - 4.7k

Chapter 14 - Sympathy for the Devil

Another few days passed and there was still no sign of you. Either this really was all in his head or you were avoiding him. But honestly, Spencer didn’t have any free brain capacity to think about it. 

His every waking thought revolved around Cat Adam’s and her death sentence and whether or not he had the strength to see her one last time. He wrote about it extensively in his journal, hoping getting it out of his head and onto paper would help him make sense of it all, but it didn’t. 

If I see her then I’m basically admitting defeat, I’m playing my hand and letting her have a front row seat to the destruction she’s caused. There’s no hiding what I am. I can put on a smart suit and wear my best poker face but she’ll see right through me. 

Cat always does. 

She’ll see it in my eyes, the way she’s broken me beyond repair. She’ll be able to tell the full extent of the damage she’s done to me and I don’t want her to have the satisfaction. 

But on the other hand, I’m still alive. I may be barely hanging on by a thread but I am alive. And she’ll be dead soon and a part of me wants her to see that she didn’t ruin me completely.

Just mostly. 

One thing I do know absolutely is that this is the most I’ve wanted to relapse in weeks. I would kill a man right now for one more hit, one more shot of dilaudid. 

I would wrap my hand around someone’s throat, squeezing until their pulse became thready beneath my fingers and watch as the life drained from their eyes. All for one more release. 

That fucking bitch shattered me into so many pieces that I’m not sure I’ll ever be whole again. Yet I’m still thinking about seeing her because for whatever reason, I feel bound to her. 

She wasn’t wrong when she said we were the same, prison showed me that I am more like her than I could have ever dreamed. When I hurt those men, when I poisoned the drug supply, I became bound to her in ways I never believed possible. 

Maybe because she’s the only one who would understand. She’s the only person who could identify with the fact I liked hurting those men. And somehow that enslaved us. It bonded us in ways deeper than if her baby had been mine. 

Don’t get me wrong, I hate her more than I ever thought it possible to hate another human being. I would have killed her with my bare hands if JJ hadn’t stopped me and I would have slept well. But her dying doesn’t change anything. Her dying doesn’t suddenly make me a better person. It won’t change the fact I was in prison, it won’t change the fact I am a drug addict. 

Her death won’t make my life better or worse. The damage is already done, there’s no way to change that. But at least if she’s dead she might stop haunting my every dream, worming her way into every facet of my life. 

Still, the question remains: am I strong enough to see her one last time before she’s put to death? 

Maggie glanced up from the journal in her lap to Spencer who was fiddling with his sleeves and chewing on the inside of his cheek. He’d barely spoken in their sessions for days and he still didn’t want to talk about Cat, but reading his journal would help her get an insight. 

“Who is Cat?” She asked placing her hands on the pages as if to absorb more information. 

“She’s the reason I went to prison. She was a hitwoman. I outsmarted and arrested her so in return she had me arrested.” Spencer didn’t look at her. 

“You know I have more questions, right?”

“I assumed as much. Go ahead.” He grazed his slowly growing nails over the back of his hand, able to scratch himself lightly now. 

“You wrote about poisoning a drug supply and hurting people? What happened?” Her fingers drummed lightly on the page. 

“I was being threatened in prison. If I didn’t help them move these drugs they would have killed me. I needed to buy myself some time. A lot of men ended up really sick, and I didn’t feel bad for it.” He scuffed his shoe on the carpet, watching the way his foot moved back and forth.

“I imagine it was dog eat dog. You had to look out for yourself.” 

Spencer suddenly looked up at her, an almost dangerous look in his eyes. 

“You don’t understand.” He frowned. “I wanted to kill those men. And not just for self preservation. I wanted them dead because I wanted to see how it would feel. I only felt bad that they didn’t die.” 

He saw Maggie swallow before she tore her eyes off of him and looked back at his journal. 

“And you mentioned a baby?” She changed the subject. “A baby that wasn’t yours but it could have been?” 

“We never had sex.” He was quick to say. “She uh…she claimed to have me sexually assaulted by her partner but I never believed that was true.” 

“Burying your head in the sand?” Maggie narrowed her eyes on him. 

“No. The science doesn’t add up. The drugs she used to make me hallucinate flood the brain with serotonin. Its effects are similar to MDMA in that it’s nearly impossible to…uh…” he averted his gaze as his cheeks started to burn. “It’s difficult to get an erection.” 

“I see.” Maggie was, as usual, unphased. “So this woman had you arrested and then pretended to be pregnant with your child. It all sounds like a power play.”

“Oh it is. Everything is a game to her. And I’m her pawn.” 

“Why are you showing me this?” Maggie closed the journal and focused on him. 

He thought it was fairly obvious. 

“I need you to tell me what to do. She’s being executed in two weeks and I need to know if I should see her or not.” He continued scratching at the back of his hand. It wasn’t anywhere near as satisfying as when his nails were longer but it helped.

“I can’t tell you what to do, Spencer. That’s a decision you need to make on your own. You say you’re already struggling with your sobriety just thinking about her?”

“Yes.” He grinded his teeth. “Very much so.”

“Well then seeing her will only make that worse, surely?” She raised an eyebrow at him. 

“But if I don’t see her, she’ll think she’s won. I can’t have her going to her grave thinking she beat me.” 

“So maybe you should see her.” 

“You’re no help.” He growled. 

“I told you, I can’t make this decision for you. Only you can decide if you’re strong enough to handle seeing her.” She sat back in her chair and crossed her legs. 

“I don’t think I am.” Spencer huffed. “But I won’t ever get another chance.” 

“Think about it. You don’t need to make any rash decisions.” 

But Spencer was the king of rash decisions. And so no sooner was he done with his therapy session he found himself at the bank of phones patients were allowed to use, dialling a familiar number. Luke answered on the second ring. 

“Luke Alvez.” 

“Hi, it’s me. Spencer.” Spencer leant against the wall, cradling the phone between his ear and shoulder. 

“Hey, is everything ok?” Luke sounded concerned. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” He took a breath and closed his eyes. “I want to do it.” 

“To do it?” Luke’s frown could be heard down the phone. 

“Yes. I want to see Cat before she’s executed.” Even as the words left his lips he wasn’t sure about them. 

But he didn’t think he’d ever be sure. He could sit and think about it until he was blue in the face but he’d never be sure what to do either way. He’d regret seeing her and he’d regret not seeing her. 

It was a catch twenty-two with no possible good outcome. So ultimately he just had to go with his gut. And his gut told him he needed to see her one last time. Saying it out loud made him instantly wish he had a needle of dilaudid waiting for him. 

“You…seriously?” Luke swallowed.

“Yes. I need to prove to her she didn’t break me. I need her to see I’m still standing.” Barely, but I am. 

“Ok. If you’re sure.” 

He wasn’t sure, not in the slightest. But he was doing it regardless. 

“Will you go with me?” Spencer suddenly sounded small and scared. 

“Of course I will. We’re away on a case right now but we can do it as soon as I’m back.” 

“Thanks Luke. And uh…don’t tell the others. They won’t understand.” Spencer opened his eyes and pushed himself away from the wall. 

“I promise. Talk to you soon.” 

“Bye.” Spencer hung up the phone, his hand shaking as he did so. 

No good could come of him seeing Cat again. He just hoped it wasn’t the final nail in his coffin. 

***

Spencer quite often found himself feeling as though he was drowning. Most of the time he barely kept himself afloat, sinking in a pool of his own misery. But actually drowning was a whole other thing. 

“Keep kicking! Come on, you can do it!” Nick cheered him on while Spencer frantically waved his arms and tried to keep himself above water.

Now his walking was getting better Nick had suggested swimming to build up his strength. Spencer had never been a fantastic swimmer, but he was ok. He could at the very least stay adrift. 

But with his injury, drowning seemed inevitable. 

“Kick! Come on Spencer. You’re almost there!” 

Spencer flailed his arms hoping he could reach the other side without using his legs too much but it only made his lower half sink and when his lower half sank he started to panic. 

His t-shirt clung to his body, the water sodden fabric making him feel heavier. Nick had tried to get him to remove it but Spencer refused. It was bad enough not having trousers and his sweater on. 

He needed to regroup. He needed just a second to fail before he could continue. He stilled his movements and let the water encompass him, rising over his head until he was completely submerged. 

He told himself he could do this. It was only a few more metres and then he was done. He wasn’t giving up, no matter how much it hurt. He pushed himself back to the surface and inhaled deeply before forcing his legs to kick in time with his arm movements. 

He blocked everything else out that didn’t strictly relate to kicking his legs. The side of the pool was getting closer and the burn spread down his thigh but it was a good kind of pain. It was the kind of pain that told him he was achieving something, he would make it to the other side both physically and mentally. 

“Come on Spencer! You can do it!” A voice goaded him but it didn’t belong to Nick this time. 

He frowned to himself as he pushed himself the last few feet and grasped the wall for dear life. When he wiped the water out of his eyes and the hair back off his face he looked up. You sat on the edge of the pool right in front of him, legs crossed and a proud smile on your face. 

“You did it!” You cheered as Spencer just stared at you dumbly. 

Soon Nick was by your side, helping Spencer out of the pool. 

“That was great!” Nick grinned, helping Spencer sit up as he caught his breath. 

He blinked a few times, briefly wondering what it was about Nick he’d thought so similar to Morgan. Sure they looked kinda alike, but not enough for Spencer to have made that connection. He shook his head and looked between you and Nick. 

“Uh…you can see her right?” He frowned as he focused on Nick. 

“Is that a trick question?” Nick asked in confusion. 

“He thinks he’s imagining me.” You spoke with an amused smile. “Tell him he’s not crazy.” 

“You’re not crazy.” Nick chuckled, squeezing Spencer’s shoulder. “I’ll leave you two to it.” 

His parting gift was to toss a towel at Spencer which he wrapped around his shoulders and obscured himself with. You kicked off your shoes and rolled your jeans up to your calves before dipping your feet in the water. 

“So, are you going to stop doubting yourself now?” You smiled while Spencer continued to stare at you. 

“Never.” He scoffed, with a roll of his eyes which made you giggle. “I wish it were that simple.” 

You stopped giggling at the change in his tone and narrowed your eyes on him. He hugged the towel close to him as though it was a security blanket. His wet hair fell on his forehead and small beads of water rolled down his face. His eyes were full of nerves the way they always seemed to be around you. 

“The paranoia that comes with heavy drug use takes a while to kick.” You shuffled a little closer to him and you practically saw the beat his heart skipped. 

“The thing is,” he chewed on his lip. “I don’t want you to be real.” 

“Uh…wow thanks.” Your eyebrows knitted together.

“I don’t mean it how it sounds.” He was quick to counter. “It’s just…if you’re real…you’re not who I thought you were.” 

You mused over his words for a moment knowing he wasn’t about to say anymore on the matter. 

“You’re very cryptic sometimes, you know that?” Your lip up tugged at the corner. 

“It’s all part of my mysterious charm.” He chuckled lightly. 

You couldn’t agree more. There was something about him. Something you couldn’t put your finger on. Something that made you want to succumb to him, let him consume you. 

You shuffled even closer and leant forward, placing your hands on his wet thighs. You saw his breath catch in his throat as you edged closer to him. Goosebumps flared on his flesh as you ghosted your fingertips over his skin. 

He let go of the towel and his hands settled onto your waist but his eyes never left yours. You moved closer still, until your noses were brushing against one another’s. 

He swallowed hard, completely engulfed in you. He could see every little freckle, every little blemish that graced your beautiful face and he tried to memorise every single one of them. He could feel the heat emanating from you and it wrapped around him, comforting him in ways he’d never felt before. 

Your eyes fell to his lips and he instinctively ran his tongue along them. Your hands moved up his sides and your arms wrapped around his neck. He wanted to get lost in you. He wanted to throw caution to the wind and let you devour him. He wanted to belong to you again in the ways he’d missed so much. 

Even if you weren’t real. Even if none of this was real. It was even more reason to take the plunge wasn’t it? But for some reason he couldn’t. He let his hands drop to his sides and his back straightened a little but you stayed close, clearly not sensing his hesitation. 

“W-what are you doing?” He whispered, his breath fanning across your face. 

“I don’t know.” You giggled lightly. 

“You said…recovery. Your recovery comes first.” His breathing was heightened and he could so easily crash his lips against yours. 

But he didn’t. Instead, he surprised you both when he sat back and shuffled away. 

“It does.” You frowned. “But I…well now I just feel stupid.” 

Spencer sighed and wrapped the towel around himself again. 

“I didn’t mean to make you feel stupid. I just…you have no idea how badly I want to kiss you, Y/N. But you and I both know it’s not a good idea. Not like this.” 

You chewed on your bottom lip and nodded  although you weren’t sure you agreed. 

“I’m scared too.” You blurted out, averting your gaze. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You said you were scared that this isn’t real, but I’m scared that it is.” You glanced back at him and he saw the tears behind your eyes. “In my experience fantasies last. Realities don’t.” 

“Agreed.” He gave you a tight lip smile. “Maybe it’s better we just keep the fantasy a little while longer then.” 

You nodded before pushing yourself up to your feet and then helped Spencer stand too. The sparks you felt when you took hold of his hands was undeniable, and judging by the way he looked at you, he felt them too. 

You stayed in silence as you walked back towards your rooms but it was a heavy, palpable kind of silence. When you reached Spencer’s room you stopped and smiled softly at him. 

“So do I get to see you flail about like a dying fish again tomorrow?” You teased him but Spencer didn’t seem in the least bit amused. 

His back straightened and he tugged the towel tighter around his body. 

“Uh…I’ve actually got a thing tomorrow.” 

“A thing?” You frowned a little. 

“Day release.” He sighed as he spoke. 

“You got some big fancy plans?” You chuckled but he shook his head sadly. 

“No.” He ran his fingers through his wet hair. “I need to visit someone.” 

“Someone? Someone important?” 

“I wouldn’t say that.” He sighed again, louder than before. “I’m visiting a prison inmate before their execution. I’m visiting the woman who ruined my life.” 

You didn’t know what to say to that. Clearly he didn’t want to elaborate and it wasn’t your place to make him. 

“Right. Ok.” You nodded, not wanting to pry. 

“It’s a really long and messy story I don’t want to get into right now.” 

“Fair enough.” You smiled a little as you stepped backwards. “I hope it goes…well? Not really sure what to say.” 

“Me too.” He half-smiled, reaching for his door handle. “I’ll see you soon?”

“You surely will.” You smiled one last time before turning on your heels and continuing down the corridor. 

Spencer heaved a sigh as he let himself into his room and collapsed on his bed. Tomorrow was going to be his hardest challenge yet. Coming face to face with Cat again would either make or break his recovery. 

Although he already had a pretty good idea which one it would be. 

***

He was silent for the entire car ride from PIW to Mount Pleasant. Luke tried making small talk but after getting nothing in return he gave up. 

Luke had brought him a suit from his apartment along with a white shirt and red tie. It had been weeks since Spencer had dressed so well and admittedly he missed his comfy clothes he’d grown so accustomed to. The shirt felt scratchy against his still healing wounds. The tie felt like a noose around his neck. 

He stared out the car window and scratched the back of his palm willing his nails to grow so he could pick at his skin. His chest was tight as though someone were sitting on it, like the weight of the situation was physical and pressing down on him. 

He came close to several panic attacks, only just managing to pull himself back from the brink in time. Diverting from his scratching his fingers nimbly shimmied up his shirt sleeve and gripped the crook of his arm. The track marks had all but faded by now but he could feel the heavy pulse of his vein beneath his fingertips.

He pressed against it, wishing more than anything else that it was a needle and not his fingers. He squeezed against his vein in the hopes it would alleviate some of his cravings. 

Maggie would tell him to masturbate. But even if he weren’t in a car with Luke in a completely inappropriate environment, he was sure his thoughts of his impending meeting would not allow for him to get it up. Instead he pressed harder against his vein, closing his eyes and imagining the dilaudid coursing its way through his body. 

He envisioned the feeling of euphoria that flooded over him when he shot up. He remembered the sensation so well.With his eyes closed he didn’t realise Luke was watching him out of the corner of his eye. And when he felt a hand on his leg he jumped and his eyes darted open. 

“We can still turn back. If this is too much for you?” Luke spoke softly. 

Spencer recoiled his hand back out of his sleeve and shook his head. He had to do this. There was no turning back. 

***

A shiver passed down Spencer’s spine as they stepped inside the women's correctional facility. His temperature plummeted the second the doors were closed behind them. He glanced at Luke who didn’t seem to notice, telling Spencer it was all in his head. Most things these days were, why should this be any different? 

They were checked in and scanned by a metal detector where Luke had to hand over his service weapon and cell phone. Spencer remembered it well. He recalled coming here that day he was released from Milburn as though it was yesterday. 

He recognised the long, dimly lit halls as they followed the guard to an interrogation room. The air was as thick and heavy as it had been the last time he was here. The last time he was here when Cat made him believe she was pregnant with his child. The last time when she’d made him think she’d had his mother killed. 

The last time when he’d thrown a table across the room and shoved Cat against a wall by her throat. The last time when he’d growled at her that he was going to kill her while JJ tried to pull him off of her. 

The guard silently led them to the small viewing room where Luke was supposed to wait while Spencer came face to face with the devil. The guard left them alone and Spencer kept his eyes trained on the floor, refusing to look at her through the two way glass. Luke was at his side and he soon felt the other man’s hand on his shoulder. 

“It’s ok, I’ll be right here the whole time.” Luke whispered but Spencer shook his head. 

“I need you to leave.” Spencer croaked out the first words he’d spoken since leaving the institute. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“Well I don’t very much care what you think, Luke.” Spencer looked at him, eyes filled with anger. “I need you to leave. Go get a coffee or something but I do not want you witnessing this.”

“Witnessing what, exactly?” Luke raised an eyebrow at him. “You going to finish the job you started last time? Choke her to death?” 

“I don’t need to, do I? She’s going to be put to death soon. I just need you to trust me and I need you to leave. Please?” Spencer grinded his teeth. 

A small part of Luke worried what might happen if he left. A tiny piece of him actually believed Spencer might kill her. And as much as Luke wouldn’t blame him for doing so, he didn’t want his friend going back to prison. Spencer couldn’t handle prison again. 

“Promise me you won’t murder her?” 

“I promise.” Spencer rolled his eyes. 

“Fine. Come find me when you’re done.” Luke patted his back before skeptically leaving the room. 

Once alone, Spencer took several deep breaths whilst rolling the purple and gold bracelet around his wrist. He kept his eyes trained on the floor the whole while, scared that he might break the second he saw her. 

His heart beat furiously against his chest making him feel a little nauseous. His vein in his left arm felt like it was pulsating, begging for drugs. He was five weeks sober. This would not be the thing that pushed him over the edge. She couldn’t turn his life upside down again. He had to be stronger. He had to survive this. He had to prove to her that she hadn’t destroyed his life. 

Taking one last deep breath he forced his eyes up and through the glass. The breath got caught in his chest as he laid eyes on her for the first time in over two years. She looked much the same, haggard and tired; fed up and frustrated. 

She crossed one leg over the other and picked at a thread on her orange jumpsuit much like he did when he was uncomfortable. He gave a thought to what might have happened to her baby, the baby that wasn’t his but he had wished was. 

“You’re not pregnant with my baby. That isn’t the secret. It’s too easy.” He slid the chair back out and sat down opposite her again. 

“You think getting pregnant with your baby was easy?” She clicked her tongue. 

“It’s not my baby.” He shook his head, leaning forward on the table closer to her. “But I wish it were. It should be mine. Because the truth is you and I probably belong together.” 

A sentimental smile plastered across her face but he knew it wasn’t genuine. Sociopaths didn’t feel sentiment. 

“You think so?” 

He leaned even closer to her, not wanting JJ to overhear what he was going to say and hardly believing what he was saying himself. 

“I do.” He confessed. “You’re the only person who really gets me. You’re the only person who understands that I liked hurting those men. So yes, I think you and I belong together. In some fucked up, twisted way, you and I are perfect for each other. 

And I wish your baby was mine but it isn’t. I wish it were mine so I had something tying us together. And that fucking terrifies me to admit because for the most part, I hate you. For the most part I want you dead. But there is a small part of me that truly believes we are perfect for each other.” 

He sat back, straightening his tie while Cat looked at him amusement. 

“You’ll always be tied to me, Spencie. Baby or no baby. We’re bound to each other. We’re the same.” 

He rubbed his eyes with his palms trying to rid himself of the memory of the last time he’d seen her. It didn’t do him any good to dwell on that now. 

Only he couldn’t help himself. 

Had he been thinking of you when he’d said those things to her? As much he wanted to deny it, he’d meant those things he’d said. 

But what about you? You were who he belonged with. How could he have said those things to Cat and meant them while you were…

…while you were, what? 

It all hit Spencer at lightning speed. The puzzle pieces that were his life started slotting into place right in front of his eyes. Everything became clear with startling clarity and suddenly Cat Adam’s was the last thing on his mind. 

He quickly darted from the room, heart racing more fiercely than it ever had before. It all made sense yet nothing made sense. And there was only one goddamn person who was going to be able to provide clarity on the situation. 

He was hyperventilating by the time he found Luke, sweating and shaking and barely able to breath. Luke was quick to his side, wrapping an arm around him and stroking his back.

“Reid, what’s wrong? What happened?” Luke panicked, eyes wide in fear. 

“Need…need to…” Spencer choked out through ragged breaths. 

“Just breath, Spencer. Don’t try and talk.” Luke tried to calm him but Spencer pushed him away. 

“No.” He shook his head, forcing himself to focus on his words. “I need to speak to Emily right now. You get her here Luke. Get her here right fucking now!” 

“Spencer, calm down. Take deep breaths.”

“No!” Spencer raised his voice. “Call Emily and tell her to come here. NOW!”

“Spencer, what’s going on? What happened?” Luke reached for him but Spencer batted him away. 

“It’s time Emily and I had a talk.” He panted. “It’s time for her to tell me the truth about Y/N.”

@andiebeaword @muffin-cup @dirtytissuebox @dreatine @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @people-whatabunchofbastards @justreadingficsdontmindme @spencer-reid-wonderland @thebloomingeagle @tiredmilky @thatsonezesty13 @1mechanicalalligator @elle-28

[variety-fangirl]

could you do like an enemies with benefits w/ rafe please

Won't Admit It / Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: Mentions of JJ sparks jealousy in Rafe, your enemy and fuck buddy, that prompt him to show you who you really belong to.

Warnings: 18+ NO MINORS SHOO smut (unprotected PinV, jealousy fucking, rough, spanking, choking, degradation and praise kink, male receiving oral, fingering, mouth fucking, some overstimulation play), enemies/fuck buddies, possessive/jealous Rafe.

Author's note: Of course :D Thank you so much for requesting and I hope this turned out the way you wanted and liked it! Basically, porn with a little bit of plot for explanation, enjoy my loves. Liking, reblogging, and commenting really help me out! Thank you :)

Word count: 1.6k

"You think that shit is funny, hmm?" Rafe spits angrily as he slams your bedroom door shut, you were thankful your parents weren't home to question what was happening, they would not be happy with how Rafe was speaking to you. Rolling your eyes as you cross your arms, leaning against the cool wall behind you. Rafe paced back and forth as he ran his hand through his messy hair in annoyance, you always managed to get under his skin without trying and he hated that. "And you care why?" you question, rolling your head lazily to look at the bookcase beside you. Rafe's head spun to look in your direction, so quickly that you thought it would pop off, but unfortunately, it didn't. Rafe stormed toward you with angry intent, his hand instantly wrapping around your throat with enough pressure to almost stop your air supply.

Rafe hated that he didn't want to hurt you, he simply just wanted to make a point. Not that he would ever admit that out loud to you or himself. He used his free hand to force you to meet his eye, a burning gaze of hate and desire staring back at you. "You know our agreement, your mine to fuck only. Or is one cock not enough for you, slut? Throwing yourself at JJ all night just to get my attention, pathetic." Rafe's mouth was mere inches from your own, his alcohol-tainted breath fanning across your face. There was something tempting and dangerous about teasing Rafe, pushing him to fill your deepest desires because of his jealous and possessive nature. It forced him to claim you as his, show you who you belonged to despite no label. Everyone knew you belonged to him, there was no questioning it and so men stayed away from you. Well, your friends were the only ones who didn't know.

"Seems not, eh? Maybe I'm tired of being someone's dirty little secret and being with someone who'd fuck me like I actually belong to them because I'm actually theirs," you smirked as you pushed your back off the wall to walk away. But you didn't get far because Rafe's hand was back around your neck, pushing your back against the wall once again as his lips collided with yours. You could feel all the emotions Rafe was pouring into the kiss, anger, frustration, jealousy, and lust that was fuelling his actions. Without breaking the kiss, Rafe picked you up with ease and wrapped your legs around his waist. Your arms instinctively snaked around his head, tangling your fingers into the hair at the back of his head. Rafe groaned into the kiss as your hips ground against his crotch and fingers pulled at his hair, just the way he liked.

Rafe carried you to your bed as his hands worked on removing your shirt, your own hands reaching to pull his off also. It was hectic and passionate, the way you both raced to strip the other of your clothing and before either knew it, you were both bare for the other. "You're mine." He growled against your lips. Your back harshly landed on the bed, your body bouncing slightly at the contact and then you were pinned beneath Rafe. Like a predator about to devour his prey, chaotic lust swirling in his blue eyes as he stared down at you. Watching with panting breaths as he kissed his way down your body until he reached where you wanted him most. "Look at how wet you are, you dirty slut." Rafe comments as two of his fingers dip into your wet waiting hole, a moan escaping as he pumped slowly.

"Who makes you this wet?" Rafe demanded as his eyes peer up at you, his head dipping in preparation to attack your pussy. You look down at him and smirk, "JJ does." you tease, knowing full well it would piss him right off. Rafe's eyes widen with anger, his hand once again around your neck as he hovers over you. You simply stare at him with a smirk, unphased by his action. "By the time I'm down with you, you won't remember who that pogue is. I'll make sure you'll only be screaming my name." He growled as his fingers pumped in and out quickly, hitting your g-spot over and over again, causing your eyes to roll back in your head. But as you could feel yourself getting close, your pussy clenching around his fingers, Rafe pulled away.

Your eyes shot open to stare questioningly at him, about to yell. "What? You think you can pull that bullshit of saying another man's name and still get to cum? No chance baby." Rafe removes his fingers and moves to stand next to your bed, ushering for you to follow him. You sat on the edge of the bed with a drenched pussy that itched for release, but nevertheless, you would do as he said. Rafe collected your hair into a ponytail in his fist whilst grabbing your chin with his other so you would look up at him. "You're going to show me how sorry you are, and if you're a good girl for me, then maybe I'll let you come." You could feel yourself get wetter at his words if that was even possible but you did, biting your lip at how turned on a simple sentence made you. Rafe directed your face to his awaiting hard erection, his face was neutral but his eyes gave him away with how expressive they were for what was about to happen.

Using your hand, you directed his leaking tip into your awaiting mouth, your mouth watering at the taste of him. Rafe hissed at the overwhelming sensation of his cock entering your mouth, your tongue wrapping around him gently. Moaning, you took him as far as you could until he was hitting the back of your throat. "That's it, such a good girl." Rafe began fucking your mouth gently to begin with, until you tapped the side of his thigh, the signal you gave when you wanted him to take control and fuck your mouth. Rafe groaned happily and immediately picked up his speed, relentlessly fucking your mouth. You relaxed your throat and mouth as much as they would allow, succumbing yourself to his pleasure as he wished. And as you looked up at the sight in front of you, Rafe's head was thrown back and his mouth hung open as he used your hair in his fist to hold your head still so he fuck your mouth better.

You could feel him getting close and you fully prepared for him to cum in your mouth but was surprised when he pulled you off him. Gasping as he pulled you up and pushed you onto the bed, his cock at your entrance. Rafe forced you to stare into his eyes as he entered you slowly, loving the way your mouth opened and eyes widened at the sensation of him filling you whole. Rafe was addicted to your reactions as he fucked and pleasured you, he knew full damn well that he was the only one who could make you feel this way, that one else would compare. Because he felt the same when you did too, neither planning to admit their want for the other because of being on opposing sides. You both moan as he begins thrusting slowly, to begin with, so you could get used to his size.

As Rafe began to thrust harder, hitting your g-spot all over again, pushing you to the edge already. "That's it baby, cum all over my cock. Come for me, now." Rafe commanded with a groan, your clenching overwhelming him with pleasure that he could have cum then and there but was determined to show you who you belonged to once and for all. You gasp and screamed as you threw your head back and closed your eyes as the pleasure overtook your body, until you exploded in euphoric bliss. Rafe fucked you through your orgasm, not letting up for a second, determined to prolong your pleasure as long as possible. Even when you came down from your high, Rafe didn't give you a moment to recover as he put you on all fours and re-entered you.

You scream in pleasure, the pain and pleasure of being overstimulated too good. The new angle brought a whole new level of pleasurable sensations that tingled through your body, his cock hitting deeper inside you. You stuff your mouth into the pillow to quiet your screams and loud moans, in case someone walked past outside or your neighbours got annoyed. But Rafe didn't seem to like that and pulled your head back so you couldn't cover your mouth and purposely slam into you roughly so you would scream loudly. "Do not be quiet, everyone needs to know who's making you feel so good," Rafe demanded, his palm colliding with the plump skin of your asscheek, causing you to whimper. Another slap was placed against the other cheek harshly, heightening the feeling of him fucking you deeply to a whole new level.

You could feel yourself getting close again, breathless moans escaping you as you clenched around his cock. "That's it, baby, cum around my cock again." You could feel the stuttering of his hips, letting you know he was close too. Rafe's fingers reached around and rubbed quick circles on your clit as he continued to fuck you harshly. You came so hard that you saw stars in your visions, moans and screams ripping from you. Rafe followed quickly behind you, moaning loudly as he emptied himself inside your pussy, fucking you both through your highs until neither could anymore. Rafe collapsed next to you on the bed, both laying still as you both try to catch your breaths. You lay on your stomach, eyes closed with exhaustion, feeling the gentle tingles of Rafe's fingers tracing patterns on your back. Opening your eyes slowly you catch Rafe smiling as he stares at you, something that was rare to find with him, but at that moment, you smile back thankfully.

[mrs-ssa-hotch]

“That’s My Girl”

*for imagination reasons, picture “Minimal Loss” as a setting*

Hotch x Reader (Y/N)

Addy = Reader & Hotch’s daughter

SFW mostly?

Fluff, angst, brief mention of sex.

It was a beautiful morning. As you finished cleaning up the kitchen, which was absolutely demolished between Aaron’s constant desire for kitchen morning sex, and the mess left behind from the pancakes, bacon and coffee everyone devoured for breakfast. You give him a long kiss goodbye, and off to work he goes. It’s always a tough good bye, because neither of you ever know if he’s coming back for dinner, or if he’s gone for 2 weeks. Ugh, you said out loud as he drove away. “

I miss daddy already! What about you?”, as Addy stared quizzically into your face. Addy is 3 years old, and the light of you and Aaron’s life.

You pack up everything into a jogging stroller and head out. It’s so warm out, on what is typically a chilly spring morning. 20 minutes into your walk, and you just get that feeling that someone is watching you. Your senses are on high alert. Not only are you a mother, but your husband has drilled it into your head, the importance of always knowing your surroundings. You turn and see nothing but the sidewalk and a couple cars moving through an intersection. As you turn back, your stopped. There’s a man, standing in front of you and Addy. Before you can get yourself in front of her, he has her in his arms. You’re desperate to get her back.

“Please, I’ll do whatever you want. Please don’t hurt her.” You pleaded.

The man looked behind you and signaled. The man, who you didn’t know what behind you, grabs you and throws you into the van parked on the side of the road.

Before you know it, you and Addy are led into a large building, full of other women and children. There is one man, who seems to be in charge. Everyone seems to like him, which is strange to you, given the current circumstances. By this time, Aaron is well aware something has happened, and just then, he sees a news broadcast come onto the screen in his office.

“Hostage situation in downtown Carlisle. Numerous woman and children are presumed to be inside. No other word on what’s happening.”

He knew immediately he needed to get there and do something. He assembled the team, and off they went, briefing via conference calls on the way there.

Once on scene, Aaron “Hotch”, assigns everyone to where they are needed most. Rossi will be the negotiator, JJ the voice to the press, Morgan will be the runner, if they’re able to get anyone out safely, and Reid & Prentiss will be going in to assess, if possible. They prep Reid & Prentiss and send them in. They immediately see you and Addy, safely sitting in a corner together, with what looks like another mother and daughter, around the same age. Relieved, they begin their mission. The unsub thinks they’re there to drop off food and supplies, but ultimately, they’re there to set up mics around the building so the team outside can get an idea of what’s happening inside. All of the sudden, Addy shouts Hi uncle Spence! and your heart immediately dropped. They knew that minute, there was a problem.

Three men grab you and Reid and drag you both out back, and away from Prentiss & Addy. The team can hear everything. The questioning, the beatings, all of it. Hotch is visibly upset, and Rossi does his best to calm him down.

“We need to go in there!” Hotch shouts.

“Aaron, you and I both know that if we rush in there now, no one is coming out alive”, Rossi replies.

Hotch knew it was the truth, and as much as it was killing him to wait, he knew that was what had to happen. Rossi had been negotiating with this unsub for hours at this point.

“He’s sending out some women and children” Rossi announced to the team. “Here they come!”

Hotch watched as Morgan ran to grab as many kids are he could get out of there, another officer grabbing a few more. All the sudden, out of the door walks Prentiss, holding Addy. Hotch, with tears in his eyes, sprints to them. He grabs Addy, hugging her for what seemed like a split second, before JJ whisked her away to the ambulance to be checked out, while Hotch continued to try to get you out.

The team can hear Reid working his magic, trying to use that spectacular brain of his to get you both out of there. The men have beaten you up pretty badly, but the desire to get back to your husband and daughter outweighed any pain they had inflicted. Before you know it, Reid realizes the man’s plan and grabs your hand and starts to pull you out of that room, and towards the exit of the building, hoping everyone will follow suit.

“Reid what are you doing? I need to get to Addy!” you shout.

“Y/N, Prentiss got Addy out earlier. There are only a few of us left and this guy isn’t going to surrender. He’s shooting his way out, or he’s blowing the place up. We gotta get out of here now!” Reid explained.

As you exited the building, you turn to look behind you and see the explosion. Praying that Reid was right about Prentiss & Addy. Hotch is speechless. He is watching in horror as he scans the people exiting the building, constantly searching for you. He sees Reid, stumbling from the mess. Just when he starts to lose hope, there you are. Aaron has never been so relieved in his life and immediately sprints toward the building. You almost collapse as he reaches you. Exhausted, dehydrated and beaten, you can barely stand anymore. Hotch doesn’t miss a beat when he scoops you into his arms and carries you to the ambulance, where EMT’s and Addy are waiting for you. The 3 of you share a beautiful, warm embrace. The team is watching, Garcia’s on FaceTime by now, and you can hear that she’s a blubbering mess as JJ points the phone into your direction. A happy ending to a case that no one saw coming.

That night, after a nice shower, and some take-out, compliments of Aaron Hotchner himself, you’re ready to relax. You both get Addy to bed, relatively early, but given the day(s) you just had, she’s exhausted too. Aaron sinks into the couch, and gestures for you to join him. You’ve never been so happy to be couch bound for a night.

“ I’m glad you are home safe. I was so worried about you two today. I cannot lose either of you”

“I know. I did everything right, and it still happened. I’m thankful to have you and your team. We truly do have the best family. I love you”

“I love you too. More than you could imagine.” Aaron replied. “Hey so uh, if you’re not too banged up, you want me to show you just how much I love you?” You knew there was no saying no to this man. The was he was looking at you, that smoldering look alone could get you pregnant, you swore.

“Aaron, nothing could stop me from letting you do pretty much whatever you want to me.”

“That’s my girl” he replied.

[fbfh]

last first kiss - dustin henderson x reader fluff

wc: 1.3k

genre: FLUFF!!!!!!!!!!, friends to lovers, pining

pairing: dustin x gn reader

warnings: some suzie mentions, steve is bad at relationship advice (what's new), dustin is crushing hardcore on you, kissing in mike wheeler's basement, mentions of past encounters with demogorgons and monsters, allusions to events from seasons 1 - 3, ambiguous timeline but takes place after season 3, Will catches you kissing lol

summary: while waiting for your friends, you and dustin get to talking and he tells you that he broke up with suzie. he doesn't tell you he broke up with her because he's had a crush on you since the snowball, but maybe finally working up the nerve to kiss you will be a good way to confess.

song rec: young love - coby grant, last first kiss - one direction

a/n: i tried to fix a typo in a JJ fic and it got posted like a week early because tumblr is a hellsite :) anyway please enjoy this ty for the request it was literally so adorable!!!!!

tags: @yesv01 @hopefullhearts @littlewinter1917 @thatawkwardlittlefangirl  @sad-brunnettee @ilikemypolarbear @lubsana @cowboylikekelsey @paris-loves-dustin

With all the crazy things you and your friends have been through lately, especially Will, it seemed long overdue to surprise him with a fun night together. Mike, Dustin, and Lucas came up with a plan, roping you, Max, and El along with them. You were going to surprise Will with a DnD campaign Mike has been working on, and it’s finally ready. Mike and Lucas are distracting Will, dragging him around downtown, running errands and taking him on various wild goose chases. El and Max are getting the real supplies - snacks. That leaves you and Dustin right here in Mike’s basement, painting cardboard monsters and villagers so they’re ready by the time everyone gets back.

You’re sitting on the floor across from each other, putting the finishing touches on the goblin you’d been working on. You’re pretty much done, and ahead of schedule too. The rest of the party should be back pretty soon, then you can start playing. Even though you and Max don’t really play DnD, you’re still excited to hang out with everyone. 

You’ve been in the same class as the party since you started middle school, but you were in a different friend group. At the Snowball you couldn’t believe how rude your friend Stacey was to Dustin. You had always been nice to kids in other clubs and friend groups, and you thought she was the same. You told her off  and marched right over to ask him to dance. Ever since that night, Dustin has been harboring a huge crush on you. 

Nothing really came of it because you ran in different circles, until one night when you saw a demogorgon in your backyard. None of your friends believed you, so you didn’t know what to do or who to turn to, until you saw Dustin pass by in the hallway talking about different monsters and their hit points with Mike. 

They’re into all that nerdy fantasy stuff, you realized, they would probably be able to tell you what you saw if you described it to them. Once you started grilling them about monsters, they put two and two together pretty fast. Ever since then, you’d been right beside them through every crazy thing that’s happened in Hawkins. Now you’re here, sitting across from Dustin and talking while the paint on the last few villagers dries. 

“It’s so weird that me and Will are the only two in the group not dating someone,” you muse, fanning the wet paint with your hand before setting it down. 

“Yeah, well, I mean it’s three now, but…” he murmurs, and you look up at him, confused. 

“I thought you and Suzie-”

“Yeah, we, uh… I kinda broke up with her…” he picks at the carpet. 

“What happened?” you ask quietly, “Just if you want to talk, I mean,” you amend. Breakups are tricky, and you want him to know that you’re there for him. He looks around the room, not quite meeting your gaze. 

“Well, you know, her parents are really strict and everything,” he begins slowly, “and it’s a lot harder dating someone you can only see during summer, and can only talk to in secret, you know…” 

“Yeah, it sounds hard,” you agree. He fidgets with the brim of his baseball cap, then continues.

“I think it’s better to date someone you’re close to.” 

You look up at him. 

“Like, physically closer to, same area… geographically…” he sputters, correcting himself. 

“That makes sense.” you say with a chuckle. 

“Maybe…” he says quietly, “you know, someone who goes to the same school, or something…” he murmurs. You consider. 

“If you go to school together you could see them every day,” you smile. He’s reminded of all the times his day has been made just by passing you in the halls, the little wave and smile you greet him with. In spite of the dim lighting, the pink tint to his cheeks doesn’t slip past you. 

“Yeah,” he agrees, avoiding your eyes. “That would be nice.” 

“It sucks though, I know you really liked Suzie.” 

“Yeah,” he sighs, “she was really smart and pretty, she reminded me of you…” he trails off, eyes going wide. “Of… I mean, like, of what you would want… in a girlfriend…” 

Your heart flutters a little as he sputters out a response, hoping he saved it and you don’t know about his impossible to hide titanic sized crush on you. You look down, fighting butterflies, then back up at him with that sweet smile of yours. You place your hand on his arm. His heart pounds harder. 

“You’re… the best, Dustin. You’re going to find someone really, really lucky who sees that.” He can feel the sincerity of your words, and it makes him blush harder. The tips of his ears are pink as your words sink in. 

It’s quiet for a second.

You start to lower your hand so you can check if the paint is fully dry. Before you can, he leans in close to you, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. You stare at each other for a moment, breathless. You let out a flustered giggle, smiling like you do and making his heart do backflips. You place your hand on his cheek, leaning in to kiss him again. His eyes go wide, heart pounding, as you press your lips to his. 

He can’t believe this is happening. He couldn’t believe it when you asked him to dance at the Snowball, he couldn’t believe it that day you walked up to him between third and fourth period and asked him how much he knew about monsters, couldn’t believe it every time since then when you’d backed up his crazy plans and fought by his side. He never thought he had a chance with you, so when he met Suzie at camp, all of Steve’s terribly hypocritical dating advice about not getting hung up on one person who’s not into you like that came rushing back to him. Look at him now, getting to kiss you. 

You’re really flustered. More flustered than you’d expected to be. As your lips move against each other’s, you realize how much you really, really like Dustin. He’s always been so sincere and nice to you, and never two faced like some of your old friends. You’ve been there for each other through so much, you can count on each other for anything, and you’re overwhelmed by the feeling of how much you like him. He really is the best. You wonder why you didn’t realize how you feel sooner. 

“What?! No!” 

You pull away suddenly, heads whipping around to Will, who’s standing on the stairs.

“Not you too!” he cries. You both start talking over each other, scrambling for an explanation, but he cuts you off. 

“Look, just-” he sighs. “I won’t say anything.”

You let out a sigh of relief.

“But no pda!” he adds. You agree, thankful that didn’t go worse. He starts to go upstairs and you giggle, causing Dustin to giggle. You lean in to kiss him again. 

Behind you, Will pokes his head down, shooting Dustin a thumbs up, which he returns, clearly excited at this whole turn of events. Will knows how bad Dustin has had it for you for so long, how much this must mean to him. He’s really happy for him, for both of you. You’re like, the nicest person ever, and Dustin is one of his best friends. You deserve each other, he thinks. 

When you and Dustin finally pull away to catch your breath, he smiles bigger than you’ve ever seen him. He can’t believe this is real, that you like him back. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this happy. He can’t wait to tell Steve everything. 

[trashpandafiction]

We Survive (3)

Summary: What happens when the Behavioral Analysis Unit comes across a situation they weren’t trained for? When the dead begin to roam the Earth, it challenges the BAU to something they’ve never dealt with before: the apocalypse. Along their journey for survival, they come across Rick Grimes and his group of survivors. Among the survivors is Jocelynn Russo, who thinks that the new group could be helpful to them. Things seem to go well until an unexpected enemy appears. Will Negan and the Saviors be the one thing to break the groups, or will they be able to defend themselves? All anyone knows is they have one common goal; to survive. Pairings: None yet. Word Count: 4,075 Warnings: Mention of suicide, blood, and guns. A/N: Switched up a little bit from the first version of this because the first time around, I didn't exactly write everyone in character. Hopefully this still fits! If you’d like to be tagged in future updates, just let me know! Please do not redistribute my work without my permission! Reblogging is fine with credit intact.

Three - The Encounter

          It had been two days since the BAU team was separated, and since then, each of the members seemed to be grieving and moving forward in their own ways. None of them really wanted to deal with the reality that David, Emily, and Derek were most likely dead in the cabin, or they were among the dead walking. It was a tough reality, and while they knew that this world was more dangerous than anything they had dealt with before, they weren’t prepared to deal with it so quickly.

          Aaron focused on making plans and keeping the group safe. He made sure that they had a good shelter and took charge of supply runs. He wouldn’t admit it, but he felt responsible for losing the three team members. Whenever there was a quiet moment, Aaron would run through ways that he could have gone back and saved them. There had to have been something that he could have done differently. It may have been a risk to do so, but maybe he could have been the one who was lost instead of the others. Of course, the FBI side of him was reminding him that he did the right thing when he spared more lives than he lost. That didn’t make him feel any better though.

          JJ tried to keep herself busy by making sure that the supplies that they had were rationed out for the group. She made sure that everyone was fed and had water, but also made sure that no one was using too much so that they would have enough to get them through until they found permanent shelter. She had lost people in the past, as had Aaron, but there was something about these losses that just wasn’t really setting in with her. In her mind, they weren’t gone; they were just separated from them. She was hoping that it was her gut feeling, and that she was right because losing them was already taking a toll on everyone, and it wasn’t even a sure thing; just assumed.

          Spencer handled things like he normally did; he focused on their odds, statistics, and reading anything he could get his hands on. He stayed fairly quiet, but he was constantly helping everyone else, so he wasn’t just idle. Whenever someone would mention what happened, he would try and shift the conversation as subtly as he could, but he knew that everyone could tell what he was doing. He pushed himself to try and stop blaming himself, but he just couldn’t. If he had been quicker or refused to let Emily switch places with him, maybe she’d be here.

          Penelope did what she always did; she focused on making sure that everyone around her was happy and busy. Whether she was helping take inventory with JJ, pestering Spencer and Aaron to make sure they were taken care of, she kept busy. She sort of took on her FBI role again, because it kept her mind occupied and she felt like she needed to pick up some slack anyway. She knew how to use a gun, Derek taught her before they left the BAU, but she didn’t like using it. One of her newest ways of keeping occupied was trying to find other weapons they could use that would be quieter and wouldn’t draw attention to them when the dead were around. Of course, that was nearly impossible since every weapon in the area seemed to be gone.

          Overall, the group was getting by, and they seemed to be doing alright in the small house they found. It was big enough for them to spread out a bit, but small enough so that they knew what was going on in the house at any given time. They had been at this house for two days, and their supplies were running low. As much as JJ tried to ration things, it just wasn’t enough to keep them going for a long period of time. They were closer to a small town which meant that there were more places for them to check, including an old grocery store and an old firehouse. They had checked the gas station and the diner in town, but they didn’t have much. As much as they wanted to stay together as a unit, they needed supplies and couldn’t lose out on a decent shelter.

On their third day at the house, Aaron was getting ready to go on a run with Spencer. He grabbed a backpack and made sure that his gun was loaded as much as it could be. The incident at the cabin set them back even more in ammo, so they tried to ration it. As he saw Spencer enter the room, he looked up at him. “We’ll leave here in five minutes.” he said, noticing that Spencer didn’t seem ready. “Where’s your bag?” he asked.

Spencer shrugged a bit, putting his hands in his pockets. “I’m gonna stay back and help Garcia clean her weapon.” It was a lame excuse, but it was better than nothing. He didn’t trust himself on the run; he couldn’t let someone else get hurt on his behalf.

“Couldn’t JJ help her with that?” Aaron asked. He trusted JJ on runs and knew that she was more than capable of handling herself, but he also didn’t want Spencer to hide from the things he didn’t want to face.

JJ came out of the other room and had an empty backpack on her back. “I’m gonna be helping you.” she said with a small smile. “I’m kind of going stir crazy in here, and Penelope is probably tired of me trying to mother her. I hope that’s alright.” she added, giving Aaron a knowing look.

He looked at her, then at Spencer, and then back at her. “Alright.” He said with a nod. “We’ll leave in five minutes.” He said before heading into the other room to let Penelope know that they were leaving.

“Sir, are you sure you two can’t just stay here a bit longer? I’m sure we could stretch our supplies a bit further.” Penelope said when he entered the room.

Aaron gave her a small smile and shook his head. “You know that’s not possible. The town isn’t that far from here, and we’ll be back before the sun sets.” He assured her.

“Yes, but that’s what you said last time, and you were all late. I don’t think I have another Mother Hen speech prepared just yet.” She said to him.

Aaron looked at her and smiled. “You won’t need a Mother Hen speech because we’re going to be back before sunset. We’re leaving earlier than we did on the last run, so we’ll cover more ground before we need to head back.” He informed her.

She nodded and gave him a tight hug. “You go out there and you get all of the supplies in the county so no one has to leave again.” She said. They both knew that task was impossible, but at least it relieved some tension.

Aaron returned the hug and nodded. “I plan on it.” He said and headed back into the other room.

Once they said goodbye to Spencer, JJ and Aaron headed out of the house and down the road towards the town. The walk there was quiet, minus directions being given or the occasional “Head’s up” when they saw one of the undead. When they finally got to the firehouse, they went inside and checked the place for weapons or supplies they could use. There were a few blankets, and a couple cans of food that were stowed away in one of the engines. They grabbed a few miscellaneous things that they could potentially use and headed out towards the diner. As they approached the building, JJ spoke up.

“It doesn’t look like anyone’s touched this place in a long time.” She looked into the windows of the diner and looked around a bit. “It looks clear in there, but I can’t see the back rooms.”

Aaron nodded, looking around the area. “There’s probably a back door, but anything could be back there. We’ll have a better chance if we enter through the front, that way we can have a clear way out if needed.”

She gave him a nod before opening the door. The two of them walked into the diner and looked around, not seeing anything, or hearing anything. They both split up to make sure that there wasn’t anyone or anything hiding behind the bar.

“Let’s get what we can in here, and then we’ll-.” he started to whisper before hearing a loud crash from the back of the diner.

She furrowed her brow, pulling her gun out and aiming it towards the kitchen. She barely had time to make a plan before a female voice came from the front door.

“Don’t move, either of you.” Jocelynn spoke, a large hunting knife in hand. “The gunshot will just draw more in. There’s a group of them in the back, my friends are clearing them out.” She explained.

Aaron held his gun, looking at JJ before nodding to her to tell her to keep her gun aimed towards the kitchen, just in case. “How many were there?” he asked softly, looking at Jocelynn.

“About five or six.” She replied. “Shouldn’t take long, but if they get brought this way, we’re going to have to fight back.” She had gone on runs before, but she hadn’t gone on a run where they ran into other people.

After a bit of noise coming from the kitchen, Rick and Michonne emerged from the doors, Rick aiming his gun at Aaron while Michonne held her sword in hand. Aaron aimed his gun at Rick, and JJ aimed hers at Michonne. Jocelynn looked at the windows to make sure the place was still clear before turning to the others again.

Rick narrowed his eyes, looking at the unfamiliar male and female. “Who are you?”

Aaron looked at the man aiming the gun at him. “I’m Aaron Hotchner, this is Jennifer Jareau. We used to work for the FBI in the Behavioral Analysis Unit. We’re not here to start a fight, we just came for supplies for our group.” He explained.

Rick looked at the Aaron, “FBI?” he questioned. The tone in his voice made it apparent that he didn’t quite believe the story this man was giving him. “How many are in your group?” he asked.

“There’s just four of us now. We had seven, but we lost three of them in a herd.” JJ spoke up before lowering her gun. “We’re out of supplies and just trying to find what we can. We aren’t trying to step on any toes or anything, we just want to provide for our group. I can imagine that’s what you three are here for too.”

Jocelynn looked at Rick and Michonne and then lowered her knife. “We are. I’m sorry that you two lost some of your group.” she said, looking at Rick and Aaron as they still aimed their guns at each other.

Rick looked at Aaron and nodded. “Don’t do anything stupid.” He said, putting his gun down. “I’m Rick, this is Michonne, and Jocelynn.” he said, watching as Aaron put his gun back into the back of his jeans.

“We really aren’t here to cause trouble, I’m sure if there’s anything here, we can split it evenly.” JJ spoke up. “Do you three have a group, or is it just you?” she asked, putting her gun into the holster.

Michonne looked at JJ and put her sword back into the holder. “We have a group. We’re on a supply run.” She said.

Rick looked at JJ and then Aaron before speaking. “How much do you have left? Food, water, ammo?” he asked them.

“Not enough, but we’re getting by.” Aaron said. “We only just got into the area a few days ago and this was our first stop.”  

Jocelynn looked at Rick and hesitated a moment before speaking up. “Well we’re all here for the same reason so we might as well get to looking. Someone should stand watch though while we check the back rooms.”

Rick cocked his head to the side at her suggestion, not entirely decided if he wanted to let these two out of his sight. “Michonne, you and Jocelynn can go check the back rooms with Jennifer. Aaron and I can stand watch up here.” He declared.

Aaron wasn’t eager to leave JJ outnumbered with two strangers, but he also didn’t know if he trusted that Rick wouldn’t do something rash either. “That’s fair.”

“We’ll see what we can find and bring it out here to split it.” JJ said.

She followed Michonne and Jocelynn before looking back at Aaron, giving him a look before heading into the back with the two strangers. She looked around and tried to find anything they could use, knowing that anything could be something. Michonne started to go through the cabinets and drawers while Jocelynn checked the supply closet and walk-in freezer. She knew there wouldn’t be much there, but she was taught to never leave a room unchecked.

“So do you have a camp?” Michonne asked as she searched through some of the rubble and other cabinets underneath the stoves.

JJ looked over at her and nodded. “We do. Well, it’s as much of a camp as it can be. We’re holed up in a house we found on our way to town.” She explained, finding a few old knives and a can opener. “What about you and your friends?”

“We have a place to stay.” she said, not wanting to give away too much. “Are you two really FBI agents?” she asked as she came upon an office that had a locked door.

“We were. We worked with the BAU, profiling serial killers and other criminals.” JJ said, standing up to look over at Jocelynn. “Any luck over there?”

She shrugged and let out a breath. “I found a couple of canned items, and some pots and pans. Maybe you could use the pots for boiling water.” She suggested. When she turned to look at the others, he saw the room that Michonne found. “If it’s locked, there might be something in there.”

Michonne nodded and looked at the door. “Are FBI agents trained to pick locks?” she asked, looking at JJ.

“I got it.” Jocelynn said and reached into her bag to get a bobby pin. “Hopefully this doesn’t go on my criminal record.” She half joked, starting to pick the lock.

“You’re safe.” JJ said with a small smile.

Once the door was opened, the three were hit with a strong odor, something like they hadn’t smelled before. In the chair behind the desk was a corpse, blood painted the wall behind it, and a note was left on the desk. Jocelynn groaned, putting her wrist over her nose to block the smell. She was used to seeing the dead walking, not like this. JJ furrowed her brow as she stepped closer to check the note.

“This man killed himself after running out of supplies.” she said, looking around. She pulled the chair back carefully before looking on the ground and seeing the gun. It was a bit dirty, but it would help them. She grabbed it and checked the chamber before nodding. “There’s only one bullet in the gun, but it could be useful to someone.” she said, looking up at Jocelynn and Michonne. “I think that’s all there is to find in here. If he ran out of supplies, there probably wouldn’t be anything else in this office.

The women didn’t think twice before leaving the room and heading towards the front of the diner. JJ followed them, shutting the door of the office before walking into the front of the diner, being met with looks from Aaron and Rick.

“Find anything?” Rick asked, folding his hands in front of him.

Jocelynn nodded, wiping her damp hands on her jeans. “Yeah, they have some pots for boiling water, a couple of cans and a gun.” She said.

Rick raised a brow, standing up a bit straighter. “A weapon?” he asked. It wasn’t usual to be so lucky to find a weapon these days, most had been looted by now.

Before he could get upset, JJ spoke up, showing him the weapon. “It looks like the owner barricaded himself in his office once he ran out of supplies and took his own life. The door wasn’t out in the open, so people probably didn’t think to check there. There’s one bullet in the chamber.”

Aaron nodded and put his bag on one of the tables before looking at Rick and Michonne. “I’m not sure of your situation, but we’ve all got guns and wouldn’t need another one. You’re more than welcome to take the gun back with you as a thank you for letting us take the supplies we could find, if we could keep the bullet.” One bullet was almost nothing in this world but it was a bullet just the same.

Rick nodded and looked at the gun JJ showed him. “That’s a fair trade I suppose.” He said. Their armory was pretty full back at Alexandria, so did they need an extra gun? “An extra gun goes a long way.” He said before handing the gun back to JJ.

She looked at him and took the gun carefully before putting it into her bag. “Thank you for this and the help. We really appreciate it, we haven’t had the best luck with the living.”

Aaron shook Rick’s hand and thanked him as well.

He nodded, returning the gesture. “Just stay safe out there and stick together.” He said and looked over at Jocelynn. “We should head back.”

She hesitated but nodded, looking at Jennifer and Aaron. “Good luck out there.” She said as she watched them get their bags together.

The five of them headed out of the diner and headed their separate ways. Jocelynn couldn’t help the nagging feeling she had that said to help them. Maybe their group would be a good addition, especially with FBI knowledge. The two groups made it a few yards away from each other before she looked up at Rick.

“Maybe we can take them in.��� she said, almost too quickly to be understood.

He looked at her, his brows knitted together. “You come on a run and think that the first two strangers you see would be a good fit? We don’t know how many of them are out there.”

“There are four of them. They’ve got the skills and the knowledge of FBI training, plus they had every opportunity to take us out and they didn’t. So yeah, I think they would be a good fit.” she said.

Michonne looked at the two of them and frowned. “Who knows if they’re telling the truth about that, Joce?”

“We don’t know them, we don’t know anything about their group, I don’t think it’s a good idea. Michonne’s right, they could have just been lying about their numbers.” Rick said.

“You didn’t know anything about me when Glenn found me and brought me to Alexandria. I could have been lying about where I came from, and what happened. I’ve got a good feeling about this, Rick, and if I’m wrong, then I’ll deal with the consequences.” she said, not used to stepping up to him like this.

He looked at her for a moment before taking a deep breath. “We don’t know anything about their group.” He repeated.

She looked at him and shrugged. “Well then maybe, we can go back with them and find out who else is with them.” She suggested. “We’ll tell them that we’re making sure they get back alright.”

He clenched his jaw as he processed her suggestion. After a moment of silence, he spoke up. “We’ll meet the rest of the group, and check them out, but I’m not making any promises about taking them back with us.”

“All I’m asking is that you give them the same chance that Glenn gave me.” she said to him.

Blue eyes scanned over her features before he spoke again. “A chance.” He agreed.

She smiled and gave him a nod. “Thank you.” she said.

Rick, Michonne, and Jocelynn all headed towards Aaron and Jennifer, not really wanting to call them out and risk attracting walkers. When they caught up to them, Rick cleared his throat, causing Aaron and Jennifer to turn and look at them.

“We’d like to make sure you two get back to your camp safely.” Rick said to them.

Aaron looked at JJ and then at Rick, giving him a nod. “We’d appreciate that. Thank you all.” He said.

“The walkers are unpredictable, and herds can come out of nowhere. It’s better to have a bigger group with you.” Rick said as the five of them started to walk towards their camp.

“Walkers?” JJ said. “Is that what you call the undead ones?” she asked as they all walked.

Rick gave a nod. “That was the first word I heard to describe them, it just sort of stuck.”

“I guess it’s less of a mouthful than the undead ones.” she said with a small smile.

The five survivors continued their walk towards the house that the rest of Aaron’s group was in. They made small talk with each other, keeping their conversations a bit guarded with one another. Eventually, the conversation switched to directions and a few warnings of walkers that Michonne or Rick would take care of. Once they came upon the house, JJ spoke up.

“This is it. I’ll go in first and let Spence and Penelope know that we’ve got company.” She explained.

Rick nodded and stood out front with the others while JJ went inside for a moment. She poked her head out and waved them to come into the house. Rick went up first after Aaron, keeping Jocelynn between himself and Michonne. When they walked in, they saw the other two members of the group; a tall, lanky, young man and a shorter blonde woman with glasses. Both of them looked a little hesitant but seemed friendly enough.

“This is Rick, Michonne, and Jocelynn; they let us take what was at the diner and helped us get back.” Aaron explained. “This is Spencer Reid, and Penelope Garcia, they worked with us at the BAU.” He said, gesturing to the other members of the group.

Jocelynn and Michonne waved at Spencer and Penelope, earning waves and ‘hello’s’ from them.

Rick looked at the two new members and gave a nod. There really were only four of them, and they all seemed beaten down and tired. Jocelynn’s words rang through his mind about taking them back. Four more mouths to feed might be a bit tough, but four extra pairs of hands would help them. “How are you all on supplies?”

“We’re low; the pots will help us boil water, so we’ll have that, but we haven’t eaten much in weeks.” Aaron said. “We’ve been trying to find a good place to stay where we can get food and ammo, but we haven’t had much luck.”

Rick nodded and hesitated a moment before speaking up again. “How many walkers have you killed?” he asked.

The question came as a surprise to everyone, especially Jocelynn and Michonne. Whenever Rick broke out these three questions, it meant that he was considering taking someone back to Alexandria.

Aaron looked at Rick and gave a shrug. “Probably several hundred between the four of us, we’ve sort of lost count.”

The rest of them nodded in agreement, and Rick spoke again. “How many people have you killed?” he asked.

Aaron looked at Rick with narrowed eyes. “One.” Aaron said simply.

Rick looked at him and gave a nod. “Why?” he asked.

JJ looked at her hands and then looked up at Aaron before answering for him. “He and his friends were trying to take our supplies and had guns on one of our friends. There was no reasoning with them; he was going to take someone with him no matter what. Once he shot the leader, the others scattered.” David and Derek had taken out the others but they weren’t here to answer and JJ didn’t want to bring that up just yet.

Rick looked at her and then nodded, letting their answers rattle around in his brain a bit.

Jocelynn looked at him and then back at JJ before speaking up. “We’ve all had to do things that we wouldn’t normally do, make choices we wouldn’t normally make. It’s part of this new world. You’re all lucky that it only had to be one.” It probably wasn’t much comfort to them, but maybe it would help.

Rick looked at her and then at the other four. “We’ve got a place not too far from here. It’s guarded, it’s safe, and we’ve got food, water, supplies, everything. If you four are willing, we could take you back, get you patched up and fed, give you a place to sleep.” He said.

Jocelynn gave a small smile, glad that he was going to give these people a chance. They seemed like good people, and she hoped that her hunch was right.

Aaron nodded and looked at the others in his group before looking back at Rick. “That would be great. We really appreciate it, Rick. I know it’s not easy to trust new people but we’re grateful for the chance to prove ourselves.”

Rick nodded and looked over at Spencer and Penelope. “Are you two alright with that?”

They both nodded before Spencer spoke up. “It’ll be nice to sleep without keeping one eye open.”

Rick looked at JJ and nodded to her. “Jennifer?”

She smiled and nodded. “You had me at food, and please, call me JJ.” She said to him.

“Alright, well we’ll let you guys get packed up and then we can head out.” he said before heading out onto the porch with Michonne and Jocelynn.

Aaron, Spencer, Penelope and JJ all got their bags together, packing what little items they had. All of them were a bit suspicious of going with strangers, but if they wanted to harm them, they would have already. While they were all a bit cautious, they were also smart enough to know that they shouldn’t turn down such a great opportunity. None of them set off any profiler red flags either, so they knew there was a smaller chance of problems.

Jocelynn looked at Rick and smirked, leaning against the railing on the porch. “Thank you.” she said.

He looked up at her and shrugged. “For what?”

“Giving them a chance.” She said.

He nodded and looked out at the yard before looking back at her. “I can’t guarantee that the rest of the group will want to take them in, but we can at least keep them there for a couple days until they’re back on their feet.” He said softly.

She nodded and put her hands in her pockets. “I’ve got a good feeling about them.” She said simply.

He looked up at her and nodded with a small smile. “I hope you’re right.” He was glad that she was showing a bit more of a leader side to her, but he really did hope that she was right about this group.

After a moment of silence, the others joined them on the porch with their bags. The group of seven headed out and back towards Alexandria. Everyone had different things running through their minds on the quiet walk back, but the general feelings were nervousness and excitement. Jocelynn was glad to have some new people, and she was glad to help others. It also made her feel confident that Rick trusted her in making decisions like this. Maybe she could take up a bigger role in Alexandria after this. She convinced him to take them in, and maybe he could convince the rest of the group to take them in for good. Time could only tell, at this point.

[myjjbaby]

could you do a jj imagine where she’s Sarah Cameron’s sister and he always is like the kooks suck but like is literally in love with her cause she’s the nicest kook. and like they fall in love and it’s just fluffy?❤️

the bet

author’s note - this one is being posted early because I hit 100 FOLLOWERS and i wanted to show my appreciation. for that reason, she is unedited so love don’t judge

synopsis - requested by anon! JJ makes a bet with Sarah Cameron for a new bike but who need that anyway?

warnings - underage possession and use of drugs (weed) and some swearing. 1.2k of first meetings

“I still can’t believe your macking on Sarah Cameron.”

The four Pogues and Kook in question were all laid out of the ‘HMS POGUE,’ teasing the couple.

“JJ, I’m literally right here and not all Kooks are terrible.”

“Oh yeah? Topper, Rafe, Kelce, that girl Emma, even your little sister sucks. Cameron you’ve got to face the facts.”

“Y/N? She’s an absolute angel.”

“Y/N Cameron? I didn’t even know she existed. Wheezie, however, is the devil reincarnated.”

The crew chuckled as JJ continued to poke fun at the rich folks living on Figure Eight.

“So, Y/N?”

“She’s my younger sister by a year, really sweet and really laid back. You’d like her JJ.”

“Me,” he gave the Cameron girl a look, “me? I will never like a Kook.”

Kie and Sarah both shouted in disagreement each giving a slap to the back of the blonde boy’s head. They continued laughing and drinking, soaking up the summer sunshine out on the marsh. Their chatter continued on, JJ, however, couldn’t help but think back to the newly discovered Cameron sibling.

“Why haven’t we met this sister of yours, Sarah?”

“She’s actually smart,” they all looked confused at her, “smart enough to know that y’all wouldn’t want a bunch of Kooks invading your infamous Keggers. So, she just stays away.”

“A Kook with brains? Who would’ve thought.”

That earned him another slap to the back of his head, blonde curls falling onto his forehead and into his eyes. They all laughed as JJ jokingly tried to size the culprit of the hit, Kiara, up.

“Alright, I’m making a bet.”

All four of Sarah’s friends turned towards her, all of them intrigued by a challenge.

“JJ will fall for my sweet sister Y/N by the end of the summer.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I’ll buy you a new bike.”

The Maybank boy smiled at the prospect of getting a new one. He just couldn’t fall in love, easy. He smirked, muttering something along the lines of you’re going down before shaking hands with the Kook princess.

“Alright, tomorrow morning I’ll be here on the jetty with JJ’s future in tow.”

“You’re going to regret this.”

“Nope,” Sarah smirked, popping the ‘p’ before pecking John B on the lips and heading into her big Figure Eight mansion.

The original four headed back along the marsh maze, dropping Kie and Pope off before heading to the good old chateau. The two best friends did their handshake before bidding a good night and heading to their respective rooms.

JJ couldn’t help but think back to the bet he made with Sarah Cameron and the next morning where he’d meet this apparently perfect girl.

Shit.

That was the first thing that ran through his head when the Pogues pulled up to the Cameron’s jetty. Sarah stood there confidently with you in tow and JJ couldn’t help but think you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. You appeared so care free with a messy braid running down your back and a soft smile brightening your features.

JJ walked closer to the boat’s rim and offered a hand to help the siblings onto the boat.

“Good day, m ‘ladies.”

Sarah offered a slap before stepping into JB’s waiting arms and you couldn’t help but giggle at the new boy’s antics. The blonde’s hand was warm when it encapsulated yours and his smile took your breath away. JJ happily smiled when your cheeks blushed.

You waved softly at Kie, recognizing her from the multiple nights she had stayed in your house and high-fived John B, your sister’s, much improved your opinion, boyfriend.

Pope stayed behind the wheel and offered a kind wave before introducing himself. You joked back and forth with him until a relaxed quiet settled over the group.

Laying back on the bow of the blue fishing boat, you barely noticed JJ as he approached, all of his friends watching closely out of the corner of their eyes.

“Hey.”

You peeked at the blonde boy through your sunglasses while he tried to keep his gaze trained on yours and not travel down your seemingly perfected tan. You slid over to provide the unnamed boy with some space before sitting up completely, introducing yourself. He seemed rather quiet, the demeanor shocking his onlooking friends. Maybe Sarah was onto something.

“So, JJ,” his name rolled off your tongue, “What do you do for a good time?”

“This, basically. And surf when the waves are decent.”

“Sounds pretty nice. I love surfing, used to compete but a knee injury knocked me out.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

You simply shrugged, brushing off the topic. You were trying to maintain a relaxed persona, but it was hard when this far too pretty boy was talking to you and your sister was winking. A deep flush rose up through your body, turning your cheeks red and your heartbeat rushed.

“You wouldn’t happen to smoke, would you?”

It was heaven in his ear. JJ was fully convinced you were some kind of angel when you blushed and innocently asked to smoke with him.

“Do I smoke? Baby, you’ve come to the right guy.”

His smile pressed against his cheeks when he made you laugh.

“Give me a sec,” he begrudgingly moved your legs, which had, much to his excitement, laid out across his lap, “I’m gonna grab a blunt.”

JJ shuffled to the stern of the boat and asked Sarah and John B to move so he could reach his stash of weed. Ignoring the looks from the couple, the blued eyed boy quietly grabbed a pre-rolled blunt and headed towards you again.

“This stuff is strong but don’t worry, I won’t judge if you cough a bit.”

You rolled your eyes and took the rolled paper from his finger and slipped it expertly in between your lips. Fishing out his engraved lighter, JJ quickly flicked it until a little flame was alight. Expecting you to hold the blunt out, he didn’t make any moves to hold the metal tool closer to you and his eyes widened almost comically when you leaned forward to slowly burn the tip of the paper.

“This is good stuff,” you took a deep inhale, JJ’s shock increased when you didn’t flinch at the potency, “Kook’s always get the weak dope. It’s gross.”

He chuckled and nodded in agreement, experiencing the preppy blunts unfortunately on more than one occasion. He couldn’t help the grin on his face when you offered the blunt back to him which he happily accepted.

The day crawled on and soon enough the sun started to set. Both you and the blonde were still dozy from your high but had sobered up after a chilly swim in the marsh. JJ now held you to his chest, arms wrapped around your figure as you shivered, snuggling deeper into the boy’s sweatshirt on your frame.

The six teenagers were all just enjoying the salty breeze and each other’s presence when you finally succumbed to your heavy eyelids. Sleepily, you inched your face up to kiss JJ lightly on the cheek before hiding your rosy features in his neck.

“Still want a new bike?”

“Shut up.”

His friends quietly snickered at the blue eyed boy but JJ kept his eyes on you. He already knew he lost the stupid bet yet he couldn’t seem to care with a dopey grin on his face and you curled up in his arms.

Fuck getting a new bike. All he needed was you.

[mildkleptomaniac]

the maybank’s part four — dad! jj maybanks

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭:  “ Dad jj idea: JJ's baby goes to the first day of preschool but he gets super clingy and misses her 🥺 please ”

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 600

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬: part one | part two | part three | part four | part five |

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cuteness, anxiety ridden jj

𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆: it’s been a bit since i posted and i’m sorry! life got chaotic. here is another part to the mini series. i hope you enjoy!

No one ever warned JJ what it would feel like dropping off his daughter for the first day of preschool. He was only warned about the dreaded future of having a teenage daughter, filled with awkward conversations and when they would begin dating, the arguments, the intense emotions that would come with puberty. 

But preschool? 

Everyone skipped over what it is like to watch their little girl walk into a classroom for their first day. Little Maybank wore her lucky socks, which JJ and Y/N tie-dye with her a few weeks prior, and her hair was messily braided by JJ.

He couldn’t stop thinking about his little girl while he was at work. The only thing that kept him from missing her the slightest bit more was that before he left, she turned around and gave him a toothy grin, followed by a wave. 

He wondered what she was doing if she was making friends, stirring trouble with her unruly sass, making a mess out of all the school supplies, or even sharing her lunch with a kid that sits beside her. JJ wondered if Little Maybank would be more like her mother or more like him, but despite it all, he still missed her endlessly. 

Even Y/N sent a text to JJ stating she was feeling emotional, that time flies by too quickly. JJ then began to think about what would happen when Little Maybank attends college. She will move out, she would stop talking to them because Little Maybank will have a life of her own--she would never live with them again. Maybe she would even consider both of them to be annoying or overbearing. Hell, she might even find them embarrassing. 

Of course, Y/N and JJ would always welcome Little Maybank back into their arms--but wait, would they still call her Little Maybank, even when she’s not so little anymore?

JJ’s mind raced of the idea of his baby girl growing up and all the events he went through. It wasn’t too long ago he was sitting in high school (well, some of the time) with his friends. He knew he would be better than his parents ever were, and maybe that was it. JJ wanted to be someone Little Maybank was proud of and had someone to look up to. And hopefully, it would never change, despite her age. 

Oddly enough, the day went by faster than JJ thought it would. Perhaps it was from overthinking that he never looked at the clock to see how many more hours he had to wait to see his daughter again. But when he checked and saw he had half an hour, his heart raced with excitement. 

JJ made sure to take Little Maybank’s favorite stuffed animal and got her favorite McDonald’s meal before picking her up. He held the bag and her toy in his hand as he went to her preschool. As he stood in the front, he heard a familiar, sweet voice shout, “Daddy!” before feeling the weight of his daughter tackle his leg. He stumbled a bit, but a smile grew on his face at the sight of Little Maybank. “I missed you so much! I didn’t think you would be gone for so many years!” She exclaimed, holding onto him tightly.

“I was only gone for a few hours, sweetie. But look, I got you something.” He showed her what he brought, and she squealed. Her grasp on his legs moved to his hand, but JJ decided to lift Little Maybank and carry her with one arm. 

“Daddy, I missed you and mommy. I don’t think I should come back tomorrow; maybe we can build a fort and watch tv!” She suggested, laying her head on his shoulder. 

JJ must’ve been smiling like a fool at this point. There was no need for him to worry about the future when he could enjoy the present with his daughter and wife back at home. 

taglist: @abbyg217 @taylathornton @lemur46  @webmeupspiderdaddy  @rosarosse @5sos-fic-recs @littlethingsinmymind @pogueslandia @mrs-cameron @starduststarkey @jjshoeobx29872 @caswinchester2000 @starksvixen @mrs-talia-cameron @newtpsd @professional-busboy @hallecarey1 @alwaysclassyeagle @cake2coke @siriusbutalsono @princessmaybank @wolfstar-lb @jorja-cameron @emeraldheartbreaker @nicavass @rainmaybank @rottenstyx​ 

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

If I Fell For You (Part 10) - Take Care

Summary: The reader gets to meet Danneel’s parents in a somewhat unorthodox way but receives a warm welcome to her surprise. Meanwhile, a minor medical scare makes Jensen anxious that he takes too much and doesn’t give enough to the reader...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Square: Playing With Their Hair

Word Count: 4,800ish

Warnings: language, minor frightening situation, minor medical situation, anxiety

A/N: Please enjoy! Also written for @supernatural-jackles​​ Tell Me A Story Bingo...

________

One Week Later

“Y/N, can we get orange?” asked Arrow from where she sat in the shopping cart. She pointed at the tubes of frosting and you took one off, handing it to her as you went back to searching for a box of red velvet mix. 

“Come on,” you sighed, squatting down. You saw one shoved in the back and you bent down, reaching back to get it. You huffed when you pulled it back, the expiration date still plenty good. “Score. Okay Arrow what other color…”

She wasn’t in the cart anymore as you stood, her bright pink shirt and shorts nowhere in sight. 

“Arrow!” you shouted, people from the farther end of the aisle turning to look at you. You breathed hard and spun around, exiting the aisle and looking at the checkouts. “Arrow!”

“Mam,” said a man in a white dress shirt and slacks, walking over with a headset on.

“I had a little girl with me and she’s missing and she was in the cart and I would have heard her climb out,” you said, walking quickly, the man following with you as you checked down aisles. “Arrow!”

You heard the guy talk into his headset when you caught pink and a guy near the front of the store. She spun around and you ran over, the manager not too far behind you. You didn’t say a word when you kicked the back of the guys knee and grabbed Arrow, picking her up.

“What’d I do?” he said, Arrow turning away. He looked more angry than you were expecting and you swallowed, the manager urging you back. “She’s the one that took my granddaughter!”

“She’s not your fucking granddaughter, pervert. I’m her nanny and soon to be step-mom so you can back the fuck off.”

“Step fucking what?” he said, his face going blank. 

“Grandpa I told you Y/N’s my friend,” said Arrow. You blinked and stared at the man.

“Prove it,” you said. The man angrily pulled out his wallet and ripped out a picture, turning it around. It was a large group photo but you could clearly see Jensen and the kids in it along with… “You’re her father. Danneel.”

“Who the fuck are you,” he said. You took out your phone and went to your pictures, showing him one of your backyard bonfire from the weekend before. 

“Is there a problem?” asked the manager. You shook your head and he rolled his eyes and left.

“Sir, I’m so sorry,” you said. He nodded and glanced down. 

“Well, I can’t blame you. I understand the feeling,” he said. 

“Can we...talk?” you asked.

“I think that’d be best before somebody else gets their ass kicked.”

Fifteen minutes later you had your bag of baking supplies in your trunk, Arrow was playing on the jungle gym and you were sat at a picnic table with Danneel’s parents.

“You guys came down early for JJ’s birthday, huh,” you said.

“We had to come down this weekend instead. Something came up last minute next week,” said her mom. You nodded and took a deep breath. 

“I am so sorry. That is absolutely not how Jensen and I wanted to tell you both.”

“I’m old but I’m tough. I’ll survive,” said her father. You looked over to where Arrow was playing, gnawing on your bottom lip. “You said you were the nanny and soon to be step mom. Mind unraveling that for us?”

“I uh, I started working for Jensen in January as a nanny to help with the kids. The relationship part came a few weeks later. We’ve been engaged very briefly. Don’t even have a ring or anything yet,” you said, shaking your head. “Please don’t be mad at him. It’s taken him so long to stop feeling guilty for having feelings for me. Please don’t be upset with him. I don’t...I’m not trying to replace anyone or anything. I didn’t want to like him. But I did and I love him and he deserves to be happy again.”

They looked at one another and back at you.

“Good,” they both said. 

“Excuse me?”

“We think he deserves to be happy too. He was in such a bad place after the accident,” she said. “He’s sounded like himself again recently.”

“Plus if you’re willing to kick my ass for thinking I took Arrow, that gets you some brownie points,” he said with a smile. You nodded and looked down at the table, swallowing. “Not what you were expecting?”

“Your daughter’s husband is engaged to a younger woman. I wouldn’t blame you at all for whatever you might think,” you said.

“He’s got a lot of time left,” he said. “He doesn’t have to be miserable for it. We don’t want that for him. It’s not what she’d want. He’s doing exactly what she’d want from him and that’s all we can ask of him. Well and maybe stick around the country for a bit so we can see the kids some more.”

“Yeah, no plans to be anywhere but home right now,” you said. You looked over at Arrow and watched her jump off a high platform. She fell down to her knees but got up and brushed them off before she was running again.

“She’d like you,” you heard, your attention going back to the two of them. She was staring at you and you smiled.

“You don’t know a thing about me mam.”

“I think we know the important parts,” she said. You nodded and glanced down. “What do Jensen’s parents think of all this?”

“They know he’s dating but that’s it. I’m supposed to meet them next week,” you said.

“We’ll keep our lips sealed for the time being then,” she said. “What about your folks? What do they think of Jensen and the kids?”

“The kids probably haven’t met either parent yet, right?” he said. 

“It’s kinda complicated...I was adopted. My mom died a long time ago. I don’t have a dad or family really,” you said. You pursed your lips and picked at the corner of the table with your fingernail, the air heavy. 

“Well we approve of him,” he said. “He’s a good kid.”

“I know. He’s very special,” you said. “I just wish something so horrible didn’t have to happen to him and your daughter in order to meet him.”

“We can’t change that fact,” she said. “She’d want you to take care of him, keep an eye on him. Oh and remind him to take a break and slow down every once in a while. He always gets so caught up in work and being on the go. She had to calm him down sometimes.”

“I have noticed that trend,” you said. “I hope you don’t feel like he’s going to forget-”

“No we don’t worry about that. If we learned anything from this it’s just that you have to live while you have the chance,” he said as Arrow ran over.

“Y/N, I’m hungry,” she said. 

“Alright, munchkin. Why don’t we head home and maybe your grandma and grandpa will have lunch with us?” you asked.

“We’d love to,” they said. “We’ll meet you two there.”

“That went shockingly well,” said Jensen late that night when you were having an extra slice of JJ’s early birthday cake. “Those guys loved you.”

“I think we both got a little too worried over the parents situation. Dee’s parents were great, especially considering I nearly broke his knee. I’m really excited to meet yours next weekend.”

“It’s not too long of a drive up there. I haven’t been home in a long time. I’m looking forward to it too,” he said, a big smile on his face. “I’m really glad they liked you.”

“What’s not to love?” you said, Jensen smirking around his piece of cake. “You’re so hard on yourself. I’m really happy they like me too but even if they didn’t, there’s no problem there. You’re allowed to live your life. Dee wants you to keep living it.”

“I still wonder if she was just like ‘this boy is driving me nuts again, he needs a girl,’ and somehow shoved you into my life,” he said.

“Maybe. I mean, it was good timing that I was looking for a new job the same time you were looking for a nanny.”

“Did you ever report that last guy as an inappropriate employer?” he asked.

“I tell the agency but nothing criminal no. I mostly feel sorry for the families. Nannies are stability in the kids lives and leaving them isn’t easy. Unless they’re little shitheads but even then I don’t blame them, it’s the parents that turned them into it,” you said. 

“What’d you think of those three, when you met ‘em I mean,” he said.

“They’re all a little shy like you but they open up if they like you. They’re pretty damn funny. They got wit and sarcasm, even if they don’t know it yet. They’re kind and intelligent and they look to you in how to act like most kids. I knew they were good kids from the start.”

“You’re gonna be a great mom,” he said. You smiled and watched him eat a piece of cake, Jensen tilting his head. “You know they have called you mom before. All three of them. Accidentally but still.”

“Being a nanny has some of the roles of a parent but there’s still a difference,” you said.

“Yeah but you’ve never just been the nanny,” he said, scraping up some frosting with his fork. “Speaking of your sudden thrust into motherhood, the whole kids thing...how many of your own were you thinking of?”

“I don’t know. I don’t need to make a baby to love it. I was adopted and my mom loved me so much. I mean there’s already three of ‘em to chase after.”

“I’d like to have a baby with you. Someday,” he said. You dabbed your finger across some frosting on the plate and sucked on it, staring at him. “I know you do. Y/N there’s no more secrets. There’s never gonna be a secret between us ever again. Sometimes you get nervous but we have to talk about these things and everything. The big choices and the little ones we make together.”

“Honestly? I don’t want you to think I’ll love them less than a kid I make. I won’t. I will treat them all the same but I don’t know how to prove that to you.”

“You told me the day I hired you that I needed to hire someone I could trust, that trust was going to be so important. Y/N, I’ve never doubted your feelings for them. Shit, I’m pretty damn sure you were in love with them before me. And I get it because they aren’t scary. They can’t hurt you like the adults can. We wouldn’t be having this conversation if I had a shred of doubt.”

“I gotta think about kids more I guess. How many, when. I don’t know that right now.”

“We’ll figure out all that when we’re ready. Just let me know and we’ll come back to this conversation,” he said, wrapping an arm around your waist. “You know...hearing about what you did at the store...that’s kinda super attractive you know.”

“Uh what?” you said, Jensen pulling you into his lap.

“You, going protective badass...that’s very, very hot you see,” he said. 

“You’re such a guy,” you said while he picked up the last piece of cake on his fork. 

“Well we-” he said as you leaned forward and wrapped your lips around the dessert, pulling back with a smile. “Oh you shouldn’t have done that.”

“What are you gonna do about it?” you smirked. He narrowed his eyes and set his fork down before he was standing and flipped you over his shoulder. “Jensen! Put me down!”

“Do the crime, do the time!” he said, walking over to the stairs. “Hm...what to do with you...ah I know…”

“You know…” you said before he flipped you down onto the couch and plopped down on top of you, catching most of his weight on his hands on either side of you. “Troublemaker.”

“You love it,” he said. He leaned down and kissed you, your hands wandering to his hair, holding him close. You grinned and wrapped your legs around his waist, Jensen kissing you sloppy and cheeky and like a teenage boy making out for the first time. 

“Dad,” said JJ, rushing down the stairs. He dropped this forehead to yours and sighed.

“What is it?” he asked. He sat up and you both looked at her, spotting the pale tint of her skin. “Feel okay?”

“Jensen call an ambulance, now,” you said, pushing him off and going over to her. He sat up and you kneeled down next to her, her lips slightly blue. You put a hand on her chest and felt the labored breathing. “Did you eat something new tonight? Or did a bug bite you?”

“I stepped on a prickly in the bathroom a minute ago,” she said.

“Jesus,” said Jensen as he rushed into the kitchen. “She got stung by a scorpion.”

He grabbed a bottle from the cabinet and started unscrewing it.

“Jensen go see what the scorpion is and get rid of it before the twins find it,” you said. He left the bottle with you and shoved the phone against your ear. “Hi, sorry how much of the anti-venom do I give her?”

“There should be a child dosage on the bottle, half the cap,” the person on the other end said. You unscrewed the lid and poured some out, having her swallow it down. She whined and you didn’t blame her based on the smell. “An ambulance will be there shortly.”

“Thank you,” you said, spotting Jensen at the top of the stairs. He was holding his wrist and had a slightly smushed object in one of the clear plastic cups from the kids bathroom. “We have the scorpion.”

“EMT’s should be able to identify it,” she said, Jensen walking down slowly. He took a seat on the bottom step and shook his head. 

“Jensen?” you said, his hand reaching for the bottle. You moved his hand from his wrist and saw two dots there. “Shit. My fiance was stung too.”

“There’s a nest in the bathroom vanity,” he said, pouring himself a dose and knocking it back. “I blocked off the door but get the twins out of there, please.”

“JJ,” you said as you saw her color get better while Jensen was getting paler. You took your phone out of your pocket and dialed, handing it to her. “Tell Uncle Jared to come over right now.”

Five minutes later Jared was there, JJ and Jensen sat in the back of an ambulance, Jensen getting a shot of something in the leg.

“We’re taking them to West County,” said a paramedic.

“I’ll see you guys soon,” you said, JJ staring worriedly at Jensen who has holding his wrist again. Jared looked around as they took off and you sighed. “Hey.”

“JJ said she and Jay got stung by a scorpion?” he asked.

“She got one as far as they can tell. Jensen got three. There’s a nest in the bathroom cupboard,” you said.

“Idiot,” mumbled Jared. You raised and eyebrow and he shook his head. “He forgot to get the pest spray done this year I bet. Dee always handled that kind of stuff. They’ve had a scorpion problem before when they first moved in.”

“Oh.”

“I’m gonna take the twins and stay the night. I’ll call and get the spray guys in first thing in the morning. You go take care of those two,” he said. You nodded and he grabbed your arm when you headed for your car. “Wait five minutes to calm down.”

“Jared I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You just don’t know it. Go inside, get your purse, Jensen’s wallet, take a beat, okay?”

“Okay,” you said. “Make sure-”

“I got it. Go on,” he said. “Make sure he’s not freaking out. Last time he was at a hospital it wasn’t good.”

“Right. Okay. Call me if you need something. And stay away from the kids bathroom.”

“Y/N. I know. It’ll be alright, I promise.”

One Hour Later

“Is dad okay?” asked JJ from where she sat in your lap. Jensen peeled an eye open and smiled. 

“I’m okay. Sleepy is all. We’ll be home in a few hours,” he said. His wrist was bandaged and he had an IV in his arm but he’d taken the anti-venom soon enough that they had enough time to get the proper medication in both him and JJ. She was already discharged but you didn’t want to leave Jensen by himself.

“Mr. Ackles,” said a doctor when she walked in the room. “Your bloodwork came back and everything looks good.”

“Awesome,” he said, sitting up in bed. “Can I get out of here?”

“You got about fifteen minutes left on that IV drip but I’ll let the nurse know to start the paperwork. I want you to take it easy tomorrow. Nothing strenuous.”

“I got it,” he said with a nod. “Nothing strenuous.”

“Jensen,” you said around noon the next day, catching him unloading some wood from the back of his truck. “What are you doing?”

“I was gonna work on those shelves for the kid’s playroom,” he said. You crossed your arms and he threw his head back. “I feel fine. The nest got cleared out and the house got sprayed. I wanna work on this.”

“You have all the time in the world to do it. Work on it tomorrow,” you said, picking up the wood plank. He tried to take it out of your hands and you growled. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Please do what the doctor said and rest today,” you said. He bit his lip and you moved the pieces of wood into the garage, Jensen leaning back against the side of the truck when you shut the trunk. “You’re scared, aren’t you.”

He nodded and glanced at his wrapped up wrist, then down to the ground.

“Hospitals freak me out now,” he said. “I don’t like bugs. My body hurt and knowing I forgot to do something so simple put them in danger sucks. Knowing if she hadn’t come downstairs it might have been real bad sucks. If you hadn’t noticed I don’t know if I would have and it scares me not knowing.”

“Close your eyes for me,” you said. He shut them and took a deep breath, letting you take his hand and walk around to the back of the house. You spun him around a few times stopping him so he was facing the pool about twenty feet away. “Know where you are?”

“Somewhere in the middle of the backyard,” he said. “What are you doing?”

“You said not knowing scared you. Lots of times you don’t know. It’s kinda just how life works,” you said, dropping his hand and moving a few feet away. “Take a big step forward.”

“Y/N, I don’t like this,” he said, fidgeting his hand along the bottom of his shirt. 

“I know you don’t. But would I hurt you?”

“No,” he said. 

“So listen to me. Big step forward.” He took a step and you looked around. “Jump backwards.”

“What?”

“Jump backwards.” He frowned and took a small bunny hop back. “Again.”

“I feel ridiculous.”

“Says the guy who plays pretend for a professional career. Now hop back and then step to the right,” you said. He groaned and did as asked. “Jog forward until I say stop.”

“Are you trying to kill me out here cause I feel like I’m about to break my neck slipping in the pool.”

“I’m trying to get your anxiety out in a non-life threatening way, okay?”

“By having me jump around the backyard like an idiot.”

“By having you get comfortable with the fact that most of life is spent not knowing and you can’t change that fact. You can’t see it all coming.”

He threw his head back but kept his eyes shut. He stared to run towards you and you wrapped your arms around him when he got there, Jensen peeling them open slowly.

“See? I wasn’t gonna let anything bad happen,” you said. He nodded and rested his forehead on your shoulder, pulling you into a squeezing hug. “You okay?”

“I’m sorry for being short and not doing what the doctor asked,” he said.

“Hey, it’s alright. I got scared too last night. Everything is fixed now so no need to worry over it. Why don’t you take a nap and maybe we have a real quiet lazy day while Dee’s parents got the kids for the day,” you said. “Sound fun?”

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll take quiet today.”

Three hours later Jensen was curled up with a blanket, his head resting in your lap as you watched a movie together. You played with his hair, Jensen turning into the touch every so often. 

“I know you’re worried about me,” he said. He turned and faced up at you, your fingers swirling in his strands. “I know I’m kinda clingy today which I’m normally not.”

“You can cling all you want, honey,” you said, stroking his cheek with your thumb. “I wish life would give you a break for a second. No work, no badness. Just some peace and quiet for you.”

“My parents lived here after the accident. For a few months. They were here, Jared and Gen were over every day, my siblings would stop down every week. The first few months I understood. I had an injury I had to recover from. But I felt like a child those few months once I recovered. Everyone taking care of the kids, of me. I was barely a father to them. Playtime. A story at bed. Someone else made most of their meals, did everything for them.”

“You’re a father but you’re still someone’s child,” you said. He blinked and you shrugged. “You were hurt, possibly the worst out of anyone. I know taking care of everyone else is your default but people get to take care of you too. I get to take care of you.”

“I feel like all I do is get taken care of by you,” he said. “I never give it back.”

“You’ve given me a family again. You take care of me every single day.”

“I never see you getting upset. It’s always me. I’m always the fuck up,” he said. You slumped down and took a deep breath. 

“I get upset Jensen. I got upset that very first time we fought, that night with the ice cream. I got upset when you got jealous of that nanny in Canada and we saw my father the first time. I got upset telling you the truth of it all because you of all people don’t need problems like that dumped at your feet. I got upset when we saw him again because I was scared and I was scared he might hurt you too. I got upset when we fought when you got home and I got upset when you proposed because you were so scared and I get upset Jensen. I get upset when you’re hurt. I get upset when I hurt. But I don’t have all those safety nets under me that you do, remember? I just got a couple right now and you’re my last resort. I’ve been my own support system for so long that I can’t undo that all overnight. I know it’s been months but the fact I even let you see me cry, the fact I can even talk about this stuff with you and know all you’re thinking about is how to make me feel better...I still need to heal too. You’ve done so much already. I’m gonna have my moments where this is switched, believe me. But today’s not my turn for that, it’s yours.”

“I love you,” he said, staring up with the softest green eyes you’d ever seen on him yet. “Even more than five minutes ago if that’s possible.”

“I love you,” you said, bending down and kissing him. “You’re the expert on the falling in love stuff though so I’ll leave that up to you.”

“It’s very...it’s what you think it is and it’s not at all what you think. There’s falling and nerves and then calm and then falling and calm and you spend the rest of your life doing that. It’s not magic and it takes work to keep it alive sometimes but all you gotta do is talk. Just talk and it always seems to work out for me,” he said.

“Can I tell you a secret?” you asked. He nodded and smiled as you went back to playing with his hair.

“You know I really like when you do that,” he said.

“I know you do. It relaxes you,” you said.

“Makes me feel safe too,” he said. “But what’s your secret cause eventually I’m gonna want to know them all.”

“I was very attracted to you when we met. But that kinda freaked me out a bit. I found myself liking you a lot that first day I was here. You got me a birthday cake. I realized how kind you are that night. It wasn’t for anyone’s benefit other than my own. I had a crush on you, even though I knew it wouldn’t go anywhere.”

“I had a crush on you from when you made me a cup of coffee. You’re so good and kind yourself,” he said. He reached up and cupped your cheek. “I’m really happy you had your mom eventually. I would have liked to have met her.”

“Maybe she and Dee are hanging out wherever they are.”

“I hope so. She won’t mind sharing me with you,” he said.

“You honestly think so?” 

“You gonna mind sharing me with her?” he asked.

“I’ve always shared you. Just hope that wouldn’t bother her.”

“I used to think maybe it would but no, she wants me to be happy and that’s you so you got all eternity to get to know each other eventually if you think about it.”

“Well when you put it that way we got nothing to worry about,” you said.

“Oh don’t worry about that. I think your mom was right. I get to have two people is all, kinda like she did,” he said. 

“She would have liked you. Would have said you’re a little old for me but she would have liked you.”

“Wasn’t she older than Ray?” he asked.

“Yeah. She was. She was only fifty,” you said.

“You grew up too fast,” he said quietly.

“Maybe. But it got me here and I don’t think I would have done anything different. I wouldn’t want to screw that up. Well I’d do one thing different.”

“What?”

“Drop by this house, have a conversation with a certain someone.”

“Say hypothetically you had that ability, you’d really do that knowing what you’re giving up?”

“I’d give her back to you right this second if I could.”

“I appreciate that, really,” he said. He let his hand fall down and reach around your back, curling around your waist. “But she’s not more important than you are. I miss her. Everyday. But I lose one of you either way in that scenario. And I can’t choose. I’ll never be able to. If she were here and you weren’t, I’d still be just like this. It’d still hurt.”

“Make me a promise. I keel over early, you try again. Try for both of us.”

“I will if you will,” he said. He held up his pinky finger and you grabbed it with yours. “But he can’t be hotter than me.”

“Equally as hot?”

“Slightly less hot but that’s my final offer,” he said. 

“Eh, fine,” you said. “You’ve worn me down.”

“Always words I want to hear,” he chuckled. You slid further down the couch until you were practically laying back, your arms wrapping around him. He got up and lay down with you on the wrap around side of the couch, pulling you into his chest. “Can I take you to dinner tonight? Just us.”

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

“Okay, honey,” he said, kissing your forehead. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Just thanks. For what you said. What you did earlier, just being with me,” he said.

“Lucky for you I like being with you a whole lot,” you said.

“Very lucky for me,” he said. “Very lucky indeed.”

______

A/N: Read Part 11 here!

[s-brant]

Pirates and Princesses (8/8)

(gif: @beccs) (PART SEVEN) (SERIES MASTERLIST)

Summary: JJ must confront his childhood trauma when returning home for the first time since his dad went to jail and prevent it from sabotaging his new relationship. Meanwhile, something sinister happens at the Chateau that brings Y/N face to face with her grief over John B’s death.

Word Count: 13.4k

Warnings: Angst, implied sexual content, strong language, parent/child abuse, mental illness, post-traumatic stress disorder, grief, and fluff.

A/N: Welcome to the final chapter of Tokens! This one has a little bit of everything in it, but it also has detailed scenes about JJ and his dad, so proceed with caution if you’re easily triggered by that topic. The love you guys show this fic warms my heart so much, so thanks to anyone who stuck with this story until this chapter. Hope you enjoy it!

Now that she has been sentenced to both punishments, one as a consequence of the fight with Kacey and the other as a consequence of the stunt she pulled with JJ to break out of ISS, Y/N can confidently say that out of school suspension is superior to in-school suspension by a long shot. Instead of sitting in a humid room with Alec for the duration of multiple school days, she's allowed to stay home, go out surfing, and do whatever she wants in lieu of doing classwork.

She promised herself not to make it a habit, promising the invisible presence of John B that she likes to pretend follows her around that she will never get herself into trouble again, but she sees no problem in enjoying her suspension while it lasts.

For the first few days of her suspension, JJ skipped school to spend it with her. Their memories of the conversation they had at three in the morning on Sunday were fuzzy, but not missing entirely. She noticed a difference in his behavior for the first few hours after they woke up under the tree together for the second time in one week. It wasn't a difference in their relationship or how he treated her, it was a difference in him.

He was quieter than usual as they cleaned up cans of beer and tossed them into the recycling, sending pictures to Kie while she was in class after she made them promise not to throw them in the trash. Rather than cracking jokes or making casual conversation with her, JJ made his way around the yard with the recycling bin in his hands and his head in the clouds. It disappeared as the day progressed, but for a little while, he wasn't completely there.

Today, he went into school instead of ditching to spend extra time with her in between shifts at work and time spent with their friends. Since they can't exceed three consecutive absences without a doctor’s note and he doesn't own a printer or laptop to forage the header from a doctor's office, he had no choice but to part from her this morning.

He bites his lip to contain his smug facial expression at the recollection of her wake up call for him. The hand holding his locker door open for him to lean on in the midst of his not-so-wholesome thoughts of her squeezes the metal hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

The curtains weren't shut all the way when they fell asleep before midnight last night, allowing a shaft of sunlight to shine in and land on his face. But that wasn't what woke him up from the dream he was having. In fact, the reality he opened his eyes to was a hell of a lot better than any dream he remembered.

Most of his memory of those moments spent suspended between consciousness and unconsciousness consisted of feeling her pressing a kiss to his shoulder, then her hands rubbing up and down his waist to slip lower and lower until they settled on the waistband of his underwear. It was then that he woke to find her looking up at him for permission from where she peppered kisses along his chest.

Their eyes met right as she kissed the edge of his nipple with this pleading, needy look that he took pride in causing without actively attempting to. She woke up on the brink of coming undone from a pleasant—to put it tamely—dream about him. With a glimpse at the time displayed on the alarm clock, it didn't take much for her to roll over to wake him up.

It ended with her beneath the sheet, finishing what she started Friday afternoon until he was clutching the pillow beneath his head in the midst of his orgasm. It happened so fast, a fault of how hot he found it to wake up to her wanting him so badly, but it felt slower than it truly was in the early morning haze of exhaustion they felt.

The memory as he relives it is as heady as it felt the first time around. He sees it in fractions; her eyes looking up at his, warm palms finding the familiar planes of his muscular body with the exploratory touch of someone who's never traveled it before, and the intense sensations he felt at the end...It's easy for him to stand here and lose himself in it. Despite the class he has to go to, he bargains with himself for one more second spent in the paradise of his memories before he has to come back to reality.

Reality, as his shitty luck would have it, comes in the form of a familiar feminine voice chirping from behind his back as he replays his morning bliss.

"It's good to see you're alive and well, Maybank."

He decides, based on who he knows he'll see when he turns around, that he might invest in a sharpie to write "Bang head here" on the inside of his locker door for instances like these where he'd rather suffer brain damage than speak to someone he can't stomach the presence of.

When he turns to see Kacey with one arm still stretched to hold his locker open, he doesn't bother concealing the genuine reaction from his face for the sake of her feelings. Any care he had for her and her feelings was thrown to the wind as soon as she decided she could steal from and put her hands on his girl last week. However, after a second of thought, a condescending smirk finds its way to his face.

He says, jerking his chin to vaguely gesture at her bruised up face, "Purple really suits your complexion. It makes your eyes pop, don't you think?"

Though the swelling of her black eye has deflated in the days since the fight that’ll soon tally up to a week, the verbal jab hits right where it intended to if the light leaving her eyes tells him anything. She bounces back after a second, though, ever the relentless pest they've come to see her as.

She offers a sickeningly sweet, yet fake smile to mirror the one gracing his striking features and spins so her back meets the locker beside his, allowing herself to invade his space further.

A collection of Y/N's stickers decorates the inside of his locker door that he briefly entertained the idea of designating as a place to bang his head against. They range from girly, glittery ones to those he willingly picked when she gave him the choice. Whenever they're at his locker together, she sticks one on the inside, and the evidence of the habit catches Kacey's wandering eyes.

Her fingertips brush against the surface of the sticker-covered metal while she ignores his protest of, "Can you not touch my stuff?" to inspect them. Since one of the Pogues in particular is famous for her endless supply of stickers, her expression sours at the thought of the girl responsible for them.

She spares him a quick glance out of the corner of her eye as she continues to analyze the sticker collection against his instructions not to, asking, "Why weren't you at the bonfire?" A failed attempt at a seductive look in his direction makes him fight not to roll his eyes. "After how last year's ended, I thought you wouldn't miss it for the world."

JJ doesn't bother to take a second to think things through before he reaches to slam the door closed with her hand still outstretched inside of it. Watching her pull it away just in time to avoid jamming it in the locker probably pleases him more than it should, but he can't help it. His hand catches on the edge of the door, halting it in place right before it closes where her hand previously rested.

She doesn't look too happy with him when he opens the door with no harm done except for the drop of her stomach when he initially pretended to swing it shut on her bruised knuckles. She didn't get many shots in on Y/N when they fought, but apparently it was enough.

He doesn't bother with the fake niceties she's giving him after the disrespect she showed him, his friends, and, most importantly, his girlfriend. The fact that she thinks she has any right to breathe in his direction, let alone flirt with him, after she stole JB's bandana is criminal. 'Cause not only did she mess with Y/N, she messed with John B on multiple levels, and his loyalty to his best friend hasn't disappeared with death. Kie and Y/N told him everything she said about their departed friend in the locker room last Thursday.

But he's smart enough to know what'll hurt her more, so he doesn't go for the general scolding he imagined giving her in his head. Since he was told everything about the encounter in the locker room, he knows she's still holding their history together near and dear to her heart.

"We stayed home," he says, casual and cool as always, with added emphasis on the first word, "You know how it is, my girl doesn't like parties. Especially not ones with kooks."

Hook, line, and sinker.

She scoffs, "Your girl?"

Looking at her now, he wonders if she was always this stupid, or if this is a new development she's had in the year since he last spent more than a minute or two at a time with her. It’s easier to trick her than it was with Kie and Y/N a few days ago, and those poor girls flew into that trap like moths to a flame.

"That's what I said, isn't it?"

The ire is visible in the way her face tenses up in places, her lips pressing together a little more firmly and her forehead creasing between the brows.

"Doesn't your, um, history bother her?" she asks, and he's gotta give her credit for being a sneaky little shit when given the chance. The girl takes every possible opening she can to strike for a potential weakness. "No offense, but you kinda get around."

He shrugs this time, deciding to drop his casual act and aim straight for the jugular.

"She likes having someone who knows how to fuck her right, actually, but I really appreciate the concern."

Much like Kie's reaction to their matching tattoos in the hot tub the other night, her jaw is unhinged to meet the unswept hallway floor they stand on. It makes him wish Y/N weren't suspended in order for her to see the gobsmacked reaction Kacey has to the harsh dismissal. Though he wouldn't want to incite an extra round of the Kacey vs Y/N WWE showdown by having her watch another girl flirt with him and essentially call him a slut upon rejection, he knows she'd get a kick out of it.

This one's for you, baby, he thinks with a quiet laugh to himself and turns his focus to the sticker collection she so lovingly crafted.

There are plenty of summer themed ones left over from the same pack he gifted her for her birthday with the surfboard sticker she used to tease him, as well as a newer genre of Valentine's Day stickers she started using the closer they grew since first getting together. They're mostly different colored candy hearts with corny phrases ranging from "U SXY THING" to the classic "BE MINE" and one printed with "ANGEL" on it—his favorite by far.

However, others are random ones from her endless stash built up over the years from birthdays and holidays deemed worthy enough by her dad to stop by Dollar Tree for a new pack, so the one he sets his attention on is likely meant for teachers or coaches to give to their students. The opportunity appears too good to be true to him when it clicks, but it isn't.

He peels the sticker off of the locker door, careful not to disturb the ones around it, and leans in closer to her to place it on the front of her tank top.

"Leave us alone or I won't stop her next time," JJ says lowly, past the point of civility, then backs away to slam his locker shut for real this time as his voice raises back to a normal volume, "And keep John B's name out of your mouth, got it?"

All she can do is look down at the sticker placed on her shirt with squinted eyes to try and read it while he walks off in the direction of his next class. It tears away from the fabric with a soft noise, and when she finally reads it, she rolls her eyes.

“Good Try!”

​​Walking out of school to see the Twinkie parked in the usual spot Y/N takes when she isn't suspended is a delightful treat he didn't know to expect after a rough day in class and his run in with Kacey. His head was hung low on his way to Kie's car to hitch a ride to his house before going home to the Chateau, since he had some things to pick up with his dad out of the picture for the near future, but then he heard her greet them.

JJ's body melts into hers upon contact, and he nearly pushes her up against the closed passenger side door of the van with how hard he hugs her. Though he doesn't want to acknowledge it, his dad has been living in his thoughts more than usual today. Ever since he texted him goodbye, he's been withdrawn inside of his head more and more, and after today's inconveniences, the rising anxiety of his plan to visit home has him two seconds from losing his mind.

Her eyes widen at his zeal, meeting Kie's concerned gaze from over the shoulder she rests her chin on. She stands with her keys swinging around her finger as she watches the couple embrace one another. In an answer to the silent question Y/N asks her in their stare, her lips mouth the words, "His dad," to her.

Deep down, Y/N had a feeling.

It began with his impromptu request to run away with her a few days ago and extended into his uncharacteristically reserved attitude the next morning that receded somewhat, but has yet to fully disappear. There is a part of her that's upset that he hasn't come to her to talk about it, to communicate the way they swore they would, yet she also knows it isn't that simple.

She has to remind herself that she knew what she was getting herself into with him. That's not to say that dating her must be a walk in the park for him, it isn't.

She knows based on the amount of times he had to hold her as she cried, or the time he curtailed her panic attack in this very parking lot, that she hasn't made it easy for him in the aftermath of John B's death. But it's because she knows how it feels that she has such patience with his communication issues.

It's not a conscious choice most times, it's an involuntary blockage preventing the words from being spoken no matter how desperately they long to be. They may have made a promise, but she won't chastise him for succumbing to the same pitfalls as her. It’d be hypocritical.

"Bad day?" she asks.

Her voice is tender with him, prodding gently for a clue as to why he pounced on her on sight. He sinks further into her arms at the sound and lets the sanctity of her touch sway him into submission. Everything about her sets him at ease, if only for a second. Her hand lifts the beat-up red hat from his head to allow the other to brush through his hair.

There's a hum of agreement that she feels vibrating through the center of his chest into hers, and her arms pull tighter around his shoulders in response. This time, when she looks up to see Kie there, she's waving a quick goodbye and setting off toward her car, clearly giving JJ the space he needs.

"We can go to the beach," she says softly, "I have a towel in the back of the van, we can just lay there and talk about it if you want."

The idea of her kind offer to him should add to the comfort he finds in her embrace. It should make him nod and whisper his gratitude to her for being the one person that knows him better than anyone, but it brings him back to the gloomy headspace he was in before seeing her.

It started as a minor distraction when he first arrived at school after carpooling with Kie. It followed him in the quieter moments, only making appearances when he wasn't distracted with more pressing matters. It began as that and built the closer the day came to ending. The sooner his inevitable visit back to his childhood home came, the more he lost himself in his fear, reverting back to a state of helplessness he now occupies with no small amount of shame.

His bottom lip trembles with the urge to cry.

"Can we stop somewhere on the way home first?"

The last place she expected him to drive the Twinkie is here.

As they made their way down each street, taking each turn necessary to bring them closer to the house he seldom let her go to over the course of their lifelong friendship, she felt her heart begin to race. And now, as the van rolls to a stop in the yard in front of his house, she has swallow back the lump in her throat at the sight of it.

She has only been here a few times.

The first time, she was seven years old.

It was a sweltering summer morning in the Outer Banks for her and John B as they set off to retrieve their friend after he missed their plans to meet up at the Chateau for a day of having fun, riding bikes, and playing on the boat. Pirates and Princesses was her favorite game to play with them because JJ would switch roles with her halfway through when she grew tired of being the damsel John B had to rescue from the most cruel and vicious Captain Jesse James Maybank.

The HMS Pogue would rock beneath his feet as he marched across the deck of the boat and took her place as the kidnapped Princess Routledge. He handed off his "sword" to her, a stick he found in the yard, and stood at the edge of the boat with his hands behind his back as though he were a tied up damsel in distress for her to hold captive. The sun setting behind them laid a picturesque backdrop that made the scene all the more vivid to their imaginative young minds.

The boat floated in the afternoon current as John B approached the pair with his best pretend face of worry for the fair Princess Maybank, who had the sharp sword of the pirate queen pressing into his throat with the threat of death should he have tried to escape.

Sometimes, she'd let John B advance on them and tie make believe rope around her wrists and ankles while he and Princess Maybank claimed their victory. Other times, they'd get backed up until the heels of her sneakers hung off the edge of the slippery deck. One move from her brother would have her yell something along the lines of not taking either of them alive, then she'd let her and JJ fall back into the marsh together with gleeful laughs infiltrating the humid air upon their return to the surface.

On the day he didn't show up, none of that happened. She and John B rode their bikes together along sidewalks until they pulled into a driveway marked with the address number he remembered from the other time he sought him out to play before.

Y/N didn't understand what they were hearing when they pushed their kickstands down and called out for their friend, but John B's little face blanched at the sound flooding out of the opened windows of the dilapidated yellow house. It was a combination of banging against the walls, glass shattering, and childlike shouts of frustration and pain. Her big brother placed himself in front of her protectively when the front door opened and smacked against the side of the house, but it wasn't his dad storming out of the house, it was JJ.

His eyes widened at the sight of the siblings standing there, and his heart dropped to his stomach at the realization that they heard it. Maybe not all of it, but based on how the girl peeking out around John B's shoulder looked at him, they heard some.

The van is parked in the exact same place their bikes once were, the exact place she and John B stood years ago when they were first confronted with the harsh reality about their best friend's home life, and he looks like he has fully backpedaled into the state of mind his childhood self inhabited. Even when he turns the key in the ignition and lets the rumbling engine sputter down in silence, he sits in the driver's seat with his lip drawn between his teeth in thought.

Yet as soon as she summons the courage to say something, he takes a deep breath and opens the door without a warning or the typical instruction for her to stay in the car. He doesn't tell her to follow him in, nor does he order her to stay out as he used to when his dad still lived inside. He gives her the choice to make on her own, and, when faced with the opportunity to support him or stay outside like the confused little girl she once was, she chooses the first option.

Her swift steps kick dirt up from the earth onto her ankles as she follows him out of the van to the front steps of the house. She tries not to make her concern for him as evident as it'd be without her intervention on her way up the porch, but it's impossible to erase every sign of it from her face.

It isn't a particularly special or scary house. It's a normal home that'd likely look more inviting if JJ were still living here to mow the lawn and tend to the household upkeep his father saddled him with since he was old enough to be put to work. But she knows better than to trust the street appeal. As he takes her hand to lead them through the threshold of the haunted structure, she is overcome with a sense of creeping trepidation that she can't shake.

"You're sure he isn't here?" she asks.

The entryway is crowded with stacks of mail his father wasn’t bothered to open, as well as empty cardboard boxes that once held cans of beer that are scattered, empty, in various places around the house. Her question is answered by the state of the rooms they breeze past in the direction of his bedroom, but she needed something to say to fill the silence. With them, they usually don’t feel uncomfortable not speaking to each other, but this feels different.

The way he stares out in front of him with his hand squeezing hers hard enough to cut off circulation unnerves her more than the tainted energy of the house itself. He isn't himself. He's a shell of the JJ they know and love, the JJ who is most comfortable tucked away in the safe walls of the Chateau with their friends, not here. If anything, how he is while he's here is the antithesis of his behavior while living with her.

Ever since John B died, he's practically moved in with her. When they're hidden away in her house without the reminders of his home life in sight, he's usually the caretaker of the relationship. It comes naturally to their dynamic, both with him being slightly older and his promise to take care of her, but everything is flipped here. It's an alternate reality for him, or, perhaps, actual reality smacking him in the face after a carefully constructed two months in utopia with her.

They come to a stop in front of his closed bedroom door.

"He's gone," he says, not even sparing a glance at her for reasons she can't decipher, "He texted me a few days ago to say goodbye."

With that, he turns the doorknob and lets the door swing open to reveal the bedroom she only saw one other time.

The second time, she was thirteen years old.

It was a Friday.

Since his dad was supposed to be at work, they stopped at his house on their way home from school exactly like they did today so he could share with their friends what he got from his cousin the night before. Being the good girl she was, she didn't even know what he was showing her when he dug it out of the backpack in the bottom of his closet.

Her brows furrowed at the ziploc bag, more specifically the contents inside of it. She was knelt down on the floor in front of the opened closet door with her shoulder pressed up against his to inspect it. The dried green cluster of a plant didn't look like anything she'd seen before, and she couldn't help but ask him what the hell it was rather than react the way he knew the others would.

"What is it? It looks like dried up moss."

JJ laughed and pulled another bag with rolling papers and a grinder stowed inside.

"It's weed. My cousin Ricky gave me a discount since—"

He halted mid-sentence abruptly enough to startle her, his head turning in the direction of where he heard a trunk pulling up to the front of the house. Her stare was still set on where he was holding the plastic bags in his hands, and she noticed, after he stopped speaking in reaction to his dad coming home, that his hands began trembling. It was so minimal, she almost didn't catch it until she saw the bag wavering under the light coming in from his window.

Before she could open her mouth to say anything more, she felt his hands on her shoulders shoving her into the closet. He followed in closely behind her and crawled in until they were both crammed into the confined space together. With the closet doors shut in front of them, he clamped a hand over her mouth, whispering in her ear for her to be quiet.

She stands with her arms crossed over herself in the center of his room, and though nothing has yet to be said or done to convince her anything is wrong, that's the exact reason why she feels so unnerved by the entire experience of coming here.

He's silent.

The closet doors are wide open as he stuffs the rest of the clothes he had yet to bring to the Chateau into the biggest bag he could find. He rips through his belongings in a fit of melancholy driven anger. His thoughts are swirling with similar memories to the ones she conjures from being here again, but his are tinged with a darkness hers don't have, even with hearing him crying in pain as a child and hiding in the closet with his hand smothering her mouth to evade his dad.

JJ visibly grimaces at the memories he's forced to relive in flashes with every glimpse he gets of the room he spent so much time hiding in. It used to be more tolerable to be here, or at least easier to suffer through. At least he was used to it before, but he got so accustomed to life somewhere else that the second he was confronted with coming back, he started to fall apart.

Whatever he can't live without, he finds space for it in the bag and prepares to leave the rest behind. But every object he touches and step he takes around the room brings him back to the person who he spent his adolescence simultaneously fleeing and wanting more from. More notably, it brings him back to the train of thought that has been nagging him ever since he texted him over the weekend.

The third and final time she came here was over the summer.

It happened right before Hurricane Agatha waged war on the island, when none of the Pogues heard from JJ for two days after he said he had to go home to help his dad with something. She didn't want to track him down to his house after they went over twenty-four hours without a single message. She didn't want to have to go back to the house that gave her chills to think about, let alone go to again after they hid in his closet when they were younger, but he gave her no other choice.

What was she supposed to do except go check on him where he last said he'd be? After all, if she lived in the hazardous environment he did, he'd do the exact same for her. If their friends were involved in her thoughts at the time, they would've gone out on a limb to say he would've gone beyond what she did to protect her if the situation were flipped. If he knew someone was hurting her, he would've come in swinging first and asked questions later, but, in her defense, he strictly told her to never come back to his house. By walking over in the first place, she was breaking one of the fundamental rules of their friendship.

Nevertheless, she found herself crouching around the side of his house to find his bedroom window and check if he was in there. Kie and Pope weren't aware of what was happening with his dad yet, but she and John B accidentally found out years ago, so she wasn't wondering why he wasn't answering them, she was wondering if he was alive.

Part of her truly thought underneath it all that Luke might've killed him. He might've been too drunk or high and went too far when beating him, too far to the point where he didn't want to risk going to jail to take him to the hospital for help. She couldn't live with herself if she didn't check, and if he got pissed at her for showing up against his wishes and didn't want to speak to her ever again, she could live with that.

She knocked on his window in a cadenced beat loud enough for it to heard through the room but not any further. After the first series of knocks, no one came to the window. It ripped her heart to pieces to wonder if she'd see him again as she continued to knock and allowed the sound to increase in volume in hopes that maybe he was asleep, but it didn't bring anyone to the window.

It wasn't until she turned back around to go to the front of the house again that she bumped right into the solid wall of his chest and was pushed back up against the house. The question of what she was doing there was on the tip of his tongue, but she said something that stopped him from asking it.

Her arms were thrown around his shoulders in a desperate bear hug.

"Oh God, JJ, you scared me half to death!" she cried into the front of his shirt, "I thought he killed you!"

He can't help but think of it as he packs his belongings away for a final time to bid his hellish childhood home goodbye: What kind of life are they going to have together if they can't get off this island? Running away may have been an idealistic drunken fantasy for him to entertain after his conversation with Pope got him to admit his true feelings for her, but they both know his consistency can't be trusted.

One moment, he's planning to tell her. The next, a day like today comes along, sweeps his legs out from beneath his body, and he's questioning whether it's worth it to force her to put up with his fickle commitment to her. It isn't fair to her, is it?

Right now is just about when he'd normally start to hyperventilate with an oncoming wave of panic, and he does, but he can't let it fully sweep into him with her here. He fights the urge to smack his head with the heel of his palm, as if that'd forcibly remove the poisonous thoughts infiltrating his mind and ruining the careful work they've done together to remedy their issues with communicating their feelings.

Just like you ruin everything, a thought whispers in the corner of his mind. What made you think this would be any different?

His actions around the room have turned somewhat aimless and distracted, which she notices as soon as he starts to disintegrate into a mess of heavy breaths and self-sabotaging thoughts. She picks up on the shift in his energy as soon as the anxiety starts to wash over him, and she'll be damned if she continues to stand here quietly to let it happen.

It's one thing if he's being silent because being here upsets him, or if he simply doesn't know what to say, but she refuses to let him tailspin into a mental breakdown without doing something to stop it. Whether he knows it or not, after what they went through with him trying to push her away last week, she knows what's occurring within his mind right now.

He flinches at the feeling of her hand grabbing his shoulder to turn him to face her at first, and when she reaches again with her other hand to try to hold his hand as he cries, he shrugs off her touch.

"JJ..." she lets the solemn sound of her own voice murmuring his name trail off, "it's just me."

His head shakes at her consoling words. Everything else inside of his mind is so earth-shatteringly loud, he can't drown it out with logic or reason to bring himself away from the memories of his dad. Those intrusive thoughts keep attacking him with doubled, then tripled force the harder he tries to resist them, and he's so exhausted from it. All of it—the memories, his dad going to jail, and his inability to accept her love to its fullest extent without convincing himself she'll abandon him—is exhausting.

This time, when she rests her hand on his shoulder, he swats it away as the frustration of today crushing him with the force of an avalanche. Not to hurt or scare her, but to get her hands off of him before he bursts out of his skin with the sickness it stirs in his stomach. So detached from himself, he anticipates pain from every touch she gives him, and he knows it hurts her.

JJ hardly recognizes his own voice as he backs away from her a step and says, "Don't."

He can tell it hurts her based on how she looks at him immediately after, but he can't handle being touched right now. How did this happen so quickly? It was overwhelming when they first parked outside, but as soon as he stepped foot inside, it was as if a switch was flipped inside of him and all of the buried feelings he kept hidden over the past two weeks exploded into this.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"You need to leave. I just-I can't breathe and"—He still refuses to look up from the ground or see her face as he paces around the room with no real intent in mind—"You can't see me like this."

That is what breaks her out of her soft spoken, timid attitude to handle the situation the way it needs to be handled. Their natural dynamic worked best for him to take charge when she had her panic attack because JJ acts first and thinks later. He saw that she was in distress and jumped in to help her before things got worse rather than allowing her to keep him at an arms length where he couldn't do anything about it.

Taking a page from his rule book, she takes action.

The room surrounding them is in a state of disarray from him searching through it for the items of clothing and objects now stashed in his duffel bag. There are multiple obstacles in her way as she steps between them like navigating a minefield to reach him after he backed away in instinctual fear, but they don't stop her from reaching him. Nothing could.

Y/N walks right up to him and reaches to grasp his face between her hands, forcing him to stop pacing around and actually look at her for the first time since they arrived her so he hears what she says. To say the least, the way he looks right now is enough to make her cry. There are tears welled up to the brims of his blue eyes, his lips are downturned with his sobs, and he's staring at her like she's about to strike him.

She says it as slowly and clearly as she needs to get it through his head, "He's not here," and before he manages to squeeze out another word of doubt between his rapid inhalations, she cuts in, "Take deep breaths."

He isn't listening to her.

The movement of his chest that hits hers from how close they stand to each other has yet to settle into the familiar pace she remembers from nights of falling asleep with the rhythm of his breaths beneath her head.

Her eyes search his face frantically, from left to right and top to bottom, for any sign of the person she's known for years, but she doesn't see him. Instead, she sees the same panicked child her and John B saw the first time they visited this house. It's uncanny how similar the expression in his face is. It feels to her as if she's been hurled back in time to the moment itself, and when she tries to think about what would've worked with him back then, she doesn't know what else to do except help him escape.

So, with the helplessness of having to watch him turn into a sobbing, incoherent mess, she decides to step into the darkness with him and do what seven year old Y/N would've done. Just like their games of make believe, of pirates and princesses, she assumes the role John B would have and rescues him from what holds him captive. It’s his own mind in this case, but, in the physical sense, it's the house.

She drops her hands from his face and takes his hand in hers to drag him out of the room. The packed bag sits on the floor in their wake as she pulls him back through the bedroom door and into the living room, not caring about what they came here to do.

It doesn't matter anymore.

The various rooms of his dad's house pass by them in a blur as she leads him down the hallway to the front door with one sole objective in mind: get him out of here. If he wants his stuff to bring back to the Chateau, she'll go back inside and get whatever he needs her to, but she isn't letting him inside of this house again. Not under her watch.

Thankfully, since he is undeniably stronger than her and she wouldn't have stood a chance, he doesn't fight it. He stumbles after her guiding hand the same way he always has, just like how he followed her back to the Chateau after she and John B saw him that day when they were kids. She led the way as he sat on the handlebars of her brother's bike, and he watched her hair flutter in the wind with the momentum of their bicycle spokes until the tears dried up.

He watches her drag him out of the home until they've reached the safety of the yard at the bottom of the porch steps, and as soon as the soles of her shoes meet the dirt, she feels his hand slipping out of hers.

"JJ?"

She turns around to see him clutching his chest, rubbing his hand along the front of his shirt over his heart as though it'll loosen up the tightened muscles preventing him from catching his breath. His body weight is leaned onto the railing of the porch steps for support. He's partially slumped on it, looking at her desperately, like she somehow knows the answer to every question screamed inside of his head, and she has never felt as useless.

"You're gonna leave," JJ says through the gasps and cries that leave his cheeks stained with tears.

When she reaches out again to help him remain upright without leaning over the railing, he doesn't shove her hands away as he did inside of his bedroom. It's a small battle won, but she takes it as a win nonetheless.

"What are you saying? I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere—"

"You're gonna leave! Everybody does! My mom, John B, my dad, and you"—his head falls to look at the ground instead of her, and she watches him work through it in his head—"I mean, look at me. You don't want this."

"Don't tell me what I want," she says.

Her voice remains as steady and calm as she can force it to be amidst the turbulent situation, but the way he said it...It takes her right back to sitting in the back of the Twinkie with him at the Cherry Bowl, except it's ten times worse. That felt like a break up, but based on what he's saying, this is one. She hasn't prepared herself for the heartache she feels in response to it.

"You don't want me, you just think you do 'cause I was there after John B died, but you don't. You're gonna go off, find some perfect guy that isn't as fucked up as me, and have a great life somewhere else, but it ain't here," JJ says, his breathing evening out with the distraction of the argument to keep him tethered tor reality, "And it won't be with me."

He can see it every time he's looked at her and debated saying those three titular words that have been floating around in his head since he first met her.

How could she want someone who can't walk into his childhood bedroom without breaking down, or someone who still has years-old scars from cigarette burns on his skin when she touches him? Her bright future contrasted with his pre-designated fate on the Cut, her personality better matched with someone more similar to her, her life continuing on whether he's there or not—it's his worst nightmare, but he's prepared to see it through.

What he doesn't expect is for her to hold her ground.

"You honestly think I'm buying into that bullshit?" she asks.

"What?"

She doesn't put it softly, she states facts with as much harshness as his cruel fantasy had, "You're trying to push me away and I won't let you."

Her typically sweet, soft features have hardened into a bitter expression he's sure he mirrors. The arms holding his waist to keep him upright move to climb up his chest and cup his face between her hands with all of the gentleness her face and voice don't have right now.

She sees right through him.

When he tries to look away again, to avert his eyes to make what he's trying to do easier on himself by not having to look at her when he does it, her grasp on his face holds firm. Her hands guide his chin back up so they're face to face, and he realizes what a mistake everyone makes in assuming her this dainty, broken girl whose only source of strength came from the brother she lost. She's a forest fire.

"You're not hearing what I'm saying—"

Y/N interjects, "I am hearing what you're saying, I'm just saying it's bullshit."

She refuses to let him off the hook, and though it frustrates him on the surface, deep down, it makes him fall in love with her all over again. Her insistence against his speech about her leaving him proves him wrong more than anything else could, 'cause he gave her the perfect chance to dip and she shot it down instantly.

The house looms behind them as a menacing presence that threatens to take control of him again, but she doesn't let it. She keeps his eyes on her no matter how many times he tries to look away and doesn't let anything get in the way of what she says next.

"You think that if you push me away and get me to leave you right now, it'll hurt less than it would if I did it later, and I don't accept that. I won't take the bait and let you torture yourself anymore, okay? I can't speak for anyone else, but I know I'll never leave you. Not willingly, anyway."

She looks into his eyes, and this time its softer, more loving, and he's never felt as understood as he does when she continues to speak.

"I'm in love with you. Whether it scares you or not, it's the truth, and I'll never stop saying it. If you think that your issues with your dad are gonna change that for me, you've officially lost your mind." Their noses brush as she leans in to ghost a kiss over his mouth and pulls away a second later to whisper, her forehead pressed to his, "I love you, JJ. Stop being so stubborn and just let me."

His next breath in trembles as he lets her words sink in, and he's stuck at a crossroads inside of himself without a clue of what to do.

The breeze blows her hair away from her face, the afternoon sunshine painting her golden, and when he sees her hair flutter in the air like it did so many years ago, he can't help but feel as calm as he did during their bike ride home. The further away he got from his dad and the house where it all happened, the calmer he grew, and it hits him at this moment that he's so taken aback by her confession to him, he forgot why he was so upset.

It's sobering. The intoxication of his panic hurtled him back in time to the frightened, childlike state of mind his dad's violent abuse often sent him to, but it was hearing her say those words he's feared for weeks that brought him back. Like the jolt of a defibrillator, he's roused back to life with more clarity than before.

She loves him, but, perhaps more importantly, she said she'd never leave him, and that is what he needed to hear more than anything. That is the statement worth more to him than the four letter word he has agonized over endlessly. No one else every attached the promise of "I love you" with the stipulation of it lasting forever. They said the empty words and contradicted it with their actions, but she hasn't done that. Her actions spoke the words long before her mouth did.

He sighs.

It's a deep, yearning sigh that sends him melting into her with the acceptance of what he's denied for too long. He savors the hands cradling his head, as well as the body pressed up against his that he has memorized down to every beauty mark and imperfection, and makes the right choice.

It isn't like it was the night at the Cherry Bowl, or the night he spoke to Pope about it. It still takes more bravery than he possesses to form the words, but there isn't a physical incapability stopping him anymore. It's just him against the trauma beckoning him into its trap again, and he won't let it lure him back into that house.

"Alright," JJ says to her through a sniffle in acceptance to her command, as if he were agreeing on afternoon surfing plans rather than something as monumental as allowing someone to love him, then continues onto with a timid tone, "I love you too."

Before he can watch for her reaction, she's surging forward through the few inches of space left between them to connect their lips in a kiss.

It's vastly different to the kiss they shared in the hallway at school last Friday. In contrast to that one, the reigning emotion within him that drives the kiss after the hesitant beginning doesn't lead them into increased intensity, it gets gentler. It doesn't explode into chaos and passion, it's a tired kiss that he never wants to retreat from. It's the physical manifestation of his feelings for her underneath the guarded exterior he uses to protect himself: gentle and yielding, yet undeniably powerful.

He feels her smiling through her tears against his mouth. In the face of everything that happened this afternoon, he doesn't feel like he should be smiling back at her, but he does. He smiles while kissing her with tears streaming down his face, still reeling from his traumatic response to coming home for the final time, and wonders how a person can feel such contradicting emotions all at once.

Y/N is the one who starts to pull away first, though it's only to check in on him. If she had it her way, she could stay here with him until the sun sets, but he did just come back from the brink of a full-blown panic attack, so she can't in good conscience ignore his well-being for the momentary bliss of their love confessions.

Her thumb brushes over his bottom lip, her smile drooping with worry as she asks, "Wanna spend the rest of the day on the boat? You always say being on the water makes you feel better. Maybe it'll make it easier to talk about it."

His Adam's apple bobs with how he swallows the lump in his throat.

"Can we maybe take baby steps for now? I don't think I can handle telling you all that shit yet."

It was already enough to allow her to follow him into the house, watch him break down into a fit of panic no one else has seen him in, and tell her he loved her, but it'd cross the line into uncharted territory to talk about everything between him and his dad so openly. Between the minor annoyance of dealing with Kacey to this hellish visit home, he thinks he's reached his quota on feeling uncomfortable today.

She nods in agreement.

"Baby steps."

Drawn back to each other by a force stronger than gravity, they collide again, but it isn't a kiss this time. It's a hug charged with all of the previously unspoken emotions they've buried inside of themselves for years, the same hug she gave him the last time she came to this house with the fear of his potential death lingering in her thoughts.

She throws herself at him with the same desperation she did that day and relishes the feeling of his muscular arms returning the embrace until their bodies are tangled together. She'd usually never refer to something as inherently affectionate as an embrace as violent, but it's the closest she can come to capturing how it feels as their bodies meet. It makes her lose her footing on the bottom step they stand on together, teetering on the edge she'd surely slip off of with the force if not for him keeping her steady.

He's about to say something, a thank you to her for calling him out on his bullshit and not letting him go that easily, when the grating sound of her ringtone blares from the back pocket of her denim shorts.

The contact popping up on the screen along with a series of frantic messages when she pulls away from him to answer shows Pope's name.

Pope You and JJ need to get back to the Chateau ASAP!!

The van doors slam shut behind Y/N and JJ as soon as it rolls to a stop in front of the Chateau.

Under the assumption that something dire happened, as in injury or death or catastrophic damage to the house itself, they bolted off of that porch faster than they knew they could move. She only turned back when she remembered the packed back of JJ's things they abandoned on his bedroom floor and, not wanting him to reenter the house, she brought it back to the Twinkie in record time.

They're preparing to trample up the porch into the house like a stampede of animals when they hear Kie calling them over to the backyard and change direction.

"No one's hurt!" she shouts, knowing that was likely where their minds went after everything they went through during the summer, "You have to see this though, I don't know who did it!"

Sticks and fallen leaves crunch beneath her feet on her way around the side of the house. Her mind races with the possibility of what could've happened that didn't hurt their friends but necessitated a series of texts and calls as frantic as the ones she received at JJ's house. She drove over here in defiance of the speed limit, something she rarely does, and prayed nothing terrible was happening.

It gave her flashbacks to when she found out John B and Sarah died in the storm. The pedal beneath her foot brought the van to an uncomfortably swift speed, then she remembered the sound of Shoupe's voice when he gave them the news. JJ warned her to slow down, then she remembered how it took multiple people to help her restrain him from attacking the new sheriff for letting his men drive their friends into their deaths.

At first, she doesn't realize what's wrong.

Kiara and Pope are standing and waiting for them across the grass near the large tree that sits as a centerpiece to their yard. Based on the body language screaming their frustration and the tears in their eyes, she can tell something bad did happen, but it's not clear what it is until she looks past them to the tree. More specifically, until she looks at what's on the tree.

"Oh my god," she whispers to herself.

Her hand is already up to cover her mouth and conceal the instantaneous frown besmirching her previously relaxed face. They both are stopped in their tracks halfway to where their friends are standing, and she can’t hear JJ's reaction over the rising volume of her hysterical thoughts.

Spray painted in red on top of their memorial for John B are the words "COP KILLER" in bold letters that conceal what they burned into the tree trunk for his gravestone. It sticks out from the beauty of the greens, browns, blues, and swathes of other earthy tones composing the scenery around the Chateau like a thorn amongst flowers, so much so that she wonders how she didn't instantly see it when they rounded the corner to come back here.

Yet that isn't the only thing amiss in the peaceful sanctuary they call home, there are random things strewn around the ground around the tree. An old t-shirt spray painted with the word "murderer" on the front, four ripped up envelopes, and a gorgeous mahogany jewelry box...broken on the grass.

The freshly turned dirt they had the contents of the box buried beneath is scattered around the trashed area as well. It clicks with her a few seconds late that whoever came here to do this must have seen the pinwheel she put in the ground to mark the "grave" and dug it up to add insult to injury.

She moves forward without consciously realizing it and stumbles until she reaches the first object of the debris field. Before this, she was doing a masterful job of holding in her cries, but as soon as she crouches down to pick up the pieces of the jewelry box, the lid snapped clean off the hinges to separate it from the bottom section, it comes rushing out of her against her will. The first unrestrained keen is the first thing to snap JJ out of his shell shocked trance.

He walks after her as fast as his legs will take him without breaking into a run, but she isn't letting him get close before she puts the box back down and shuffles forward to collect the torn letter remains. She doesn't want them to get blown away by the wind anymore than they already might have been, so she scrambles to gather the pieces until they're cupped in her hands to protect them.

"Why?" she asks and looks up at Kie and Pope with tears dripping down her face, "Why would anyone do this? Who would do this?"

Pope says, "My guess is as good as yours. We didn't see anyone leaving when we got here, so it must've happened before school ended. This is all we saw before we called you guys."

For a second or two, JJ is grasping at straws for why this happened and who did it like the rest of them are, but then something Pope said makes it click into place. It sets off a domino effect in his mind as he brings back the memory of a certain offspring of satan being absent from gym this afternoon despite being at school earlier, since his encounter with her before Physics made him, unfortunately, aware of her existence again.

His face is set in anger, jaw clenching with the tension of him grinding his teeth together, and he takes his hat off to fidget with it between his hands for a second. Their friends are too focused on her crying to see him contemplating it, but as soon as he speaks, they look up to see him setting his hat back onto his head in preparation to leave and track Kacey down.

Y/N's head snaps up from the torn letters in her hands to the sight of him storming off across the yard with his only goodbye being the words, "I'm gonna kill that bitch."

Her and Pope stare after him in shock, unable to put the pieces together about who that "bitch" is, but Kie doesn't miss a single beat. While Y/N is crumpled over on the ground in tears, she's rushing after JJ before he can approach the bike parked in front of the house. He doesn't even make it five steps before he feels her hands latching onto his wrist to stop him.

She asks, "Who the hell are you talking about? And why would they do this?"

His eyes narrow at her. His unreleased frustration for the situation in general and having to watch Y/N cry after an emotional afternoon together comes rushing out when he snaps at her.

"Kacey. She talked shit at school and I put her in her place. Now, if you don't mind, I'm gonna pay her a little visit."

He yanks his arm sharply towards himself to free it from her grip, but she's a step ahead of him. Quicker than he can think to stop her, Kie swipes the keys hanging out of his back pocket away and throws them to Pope, who, bless his heart, can't catch to save his life. The key ring jingles with its contact at the dead center of his chest, and she mouths an apology to him before turning back to face JJ.

"What the fuck, Kie?"

He makes to stomp past her and retrieve the keys from Pope only to be stopped by her hands reaching out to grab his shoulders.

"Listen to me, you can't go anywhere. Look at her," she whispers lowly enough to keep Y/N from hearing, pointing behind her to where she sits on the ground with Pope knelt beside her, "I wouldn't put it past Kacey to pull a stunt like this. I'm just as mad as you, but revenge can wait and you know it. She needs you."

The fury visible in his expression is subdued by looking past Kie's shoulder to see Y/N crying softly to Pope about the vandalized memorial.

The last time he saw her so distraught over something, it was the day they made the memorial and buried the box in the first place. She sits on her knees with her mom's broken jewelry box between them, shuddering with the sobs she has no control over, and pours the torn paper into the empty bottom half of the box. Exhausted to the core, she looks more like a sullen, kicked puppy than she does herself.

It makes his anger-fueled instincts that urge him to hunt Kacey down and do something, anything he can to make her feel the pain they do right now bubble down into sorrow. It's visible in his eyes when he looks at her.

Kie knows she's gotten under his skin when he sighs, sparing a parting glance to the bike in the driveway, and nods once at her before setting off back to where they're sitting in the grass.

Meanwhile, Y/N is stuck staring down at the disarray of her backyard with nothing but pain aching through her to the bone.

Her brother did wrong things sometimes as a consequence of being human, but never this, never something worthy of having his name dragged through the mud and being branded a murderer after his death. He stole scuba gear from Ward and broke dozens of laws in their hunt for the gold, but he never crossed that line into moral bankruptcy. Rafe did, and it kills JJ to see someone like Kacey do this to his best friend while hanging off of Rafe and his friends like a leech.

The fabric of his worn t-shirt is tarnished by the dried paint clinging to the front of it to the spell the lie written there, and her vision blurs with tears for what feels like the millionth time in the span of an hour. First, it was JJ. Now, it's John B, and she can't help but wonder if the heartache will ever end. It began to feel better over the course of the week, her grief for him slowly beginning to slip from her mind until now. Until the storm clouds converged again to batter her with another wave of it.

Through the deafening volume of her mind racing with thoughts and feelings to process what's happened, she hears Pope shuffling around to stand on his feet. Then, another person sits down in his place and scoots closer until their bodies are touching, and she knows it's him. She doesn't have to wait to hear his voice or look to see his face, she can tell based on the feeling of his touch and the smell of him she's so intimately familiar with, yet couldn't describe it aloud if she tried.

He doesn't smother her. He sits close enough to touch her and doesn't push it any further.

The background of the pale, cloudless sky frames him in the foreground like the subject of a painting—a living, breathing painting that she could study endlessly. The other trees planted in the yard's leaves flutter distantly behind him and try to draw her gaze away, but she keeps her eyes on him.

Maybe that's how it is, she thinks.

Maybe it'll get better and worse in a dance that'll only stop when they're no longer here to agonize over it. Maybe this is what moving on from John B will always be like. It'll feel like they've made strides in the right direction, then something will come along to shatter it to sharp pieces that'll reopen their stitched up wounds. If that's the case, at least the four of them have each other to lean on when it gets worse again.

JJ sits with her and lets her crawl onto his lap, resting her head on his shoulder, until the sun sinks below the horizon.

The gentle bobbing of the HMS Pogue at the surface of the water steadies her amidst her eddying thoughts. It keeps her present to the moment the way the ropes tying the boat to the dock keeps it from floating adrift into the marsh. It's a motion engrained in her from the start of her life until now from countless days spent on the water. Whether it be for fishing, swimming, or playing make believe with her boys all those years ago, it's as much a part of her as her personality or body itself.

JJ was right about one thing: being out on the water makes it easier to think.

He hasn't followed her out since she woke up before sunrise and snuck out of bed to come here. Despite her efforts not to wake him, he woke up when she disentangled her body from his, silently cursing the fact that they always cuddle so closely, and he tried to pull her back to him with a whine of displeasure in his groggy, half-asleep state. Sleep finally found them after hours of staying up together to talk about what Kacey did, unable to relax from the chaos of yesterday, so he wasn't prepared to wake up that soon.

"Go back to sleep, angel," she whispered as she hovered over him, brushing a chaste kiss to his lips that he was too tired to return.

That was the last time she saw him since this morning, and now that the sun has risen to its peak in the sky without her moving an inch from her perch atop the bow of the boat, she's begun to wonder if he's awake yet. It isn't uncommon for them to sleep in for half of the day when there isn't school or work, so it isn't surprising to her that he's just now waking up when she hears the back door to the Chateau opening and closing.

Unbeknownst to her, JJ has been awake the entire morning since she left bed.

They were so attached to each other yesterday night, he didn't have the time to put it together without her seeing and ruining the surprise, but once he heard the door to the porch close to signify her leaving, he kicked the blankets off of himself and got to work. He wasn't originally planning on starting so early, since they stayed up late into the night together, but once he woke up to the feeling of her sneaking out of his arms, he was too awake to fall back asleep.

The sound of his footsteps on the dock warns her of his approach, but she doesn't raise her head from where she rests it in her palms to stare out at the water.

"I was wondering when you'd finally wake up," she says.

There's another few steps, then the boat jostles with his weight stepping onto it.

He doesn't say anything to her in response. The only clue she gets as to what he's doing are the footsteps on the deck that lead closer to her until she feels him sitting down on the bow next to where she is. And she's about to open her mouth to ask if he's okay when he sets something down in front of her.

It's a shoe box.

Y/N turns to see him, eyes flickering over his tired face, and looks back at the box with furrowed brows.

"What is this?"

His hair is messy, exactly how it was when she left him in bed this morning, and if she weren't more focused on the mysterious box he plopped down in front of her, she'd be combing through it with her fingers. He's gotten used to those casual displays of affection from her; how she runs her hands through his hair on mornings before school when he forgets to brush it, or when she fixes a button on his flannel that he missed.

JJ's lips are tipped in a smile, and she can't help but blush with how he looks at her. She never used to see it, but he has always looked at her like this. Like he's hopelessly, utterly in love with her. Even before they lost John B, back when he'd expend all of his romantic and sexual attention on girls he hardly knew, he still looked at her this way.

He gestures at it and says, "Open it."

The lid of the box is coated in a freshly dried layer of blue paint to match the shade of the sky overhead. She knows instantly that he must have dug through the arts and crafts box she specifically labeled with a warning for him and John B to stay out. It's painted with aimlessly sloppy brushstrokes and stickers placed at every corner of the cardboard box, all of which she recognizes from the stash she kept under her bed alongside the India ink he borrowed last Friday.

As she gives him a skeptical look and reaches to lift the lid off of the shoe box, she makes a mental note to rewrite the label on the arts and crafts box without the warning for him to keep out. Since John B isn't here to steal anything from it and JJ never follows that rule anyway, it's redundant at this point.

Any skepticism is washed away from her face as soon as she flips the lid open to reveal what's inside. It leaves her speechless as she looks down at it all.

"JJ..." she murmurs in awe.

Sitting at the bottom of it is a folded up t-shirt she saw JJ wear multiple times, but never again since John B died. He refused to glance at the shirt his best friend gave him the year before they never saw him again, let alone dig it out of the corner of her closet where he keeps his things...until now.

But that's a scratch on the surface of all of the things about his gift that stuns her to silence. The next thing to catch her immediate attention is a picture she hasn't seen in years.

It's one that Big John took of the three of them together right where she and JJ are sitting. She was much younger in it, flashing a toothy grin with her arms thrown over both boys' shoulders. To her left, John B was leaning his head on her shoulder. To her right, JJ was wearing an eyepatch they crafted out of an old black shirt he stole from his dad. It was cut with the kitchen scissors and tied around the back of his head in a knot.

She brushes her thumb over John B's face, then sets the crinkled photograph back down atop the folded shirt and moves her attention to the last surprise.

Letters.

Torn up pieces of paper painstakingly taped back together sit one on top of the other, some missing pieces here or there, and it makes her mouth part in shock. Her hands shuffle the letters apart to see each one and recognize the handwriting: Kie's bubbly, swirling letters, Pope's neat cursive, hers, and JJ's chicken scratch writing that she's able to decipher from years of proofreading his essays.

She pictures him at her desk all morning while she was sitting out here, ripping tape off of the roll and arranging the puzzle pieces of the ripped letters until he was sure he got it right. It made him want to rip the hair from his scalp, but he sat there and pushed through the frustration to make it as perfect as he could for her. The missing pieces were primarily from Kie's letter, which fluttered away on a balmy breeze when Kacey tore it up and threw it to the ground, but the one he wanted her to have the most wasn't missing more than a single piece.

Y/N looks up from the letters held like a precious treasure in her hands to see him watching her with that same classic JJ smile on his face, but he doesn't let her get a word in yet.

"Go on," he says, leaning closer to pull his letter to John B out and place it on top of the pile for her to read, "I want you to read it."

"You didn't let me read it when I asked before though, are you sure you—"

He interrupts her before she can worry herself over it, "Dude, just read it. I promise I'm fine with it. I want you to."

The letters crinkle under her touch as she looks back down and smooths them out on the deck enough to read through the clear tape. With one last confirming glance to him for permission, she takes a deep breath and reads the first line.

Dear John B,

You really know how to keep a guy on his toes, don't you? You really outdid yourself on this one. I was so sure we were gonna make it, but I guess you had to go all Romeo and Juliet on us, huh? As long as you and Sarah are happy macking on each other in heaven, it's okay.

In all seriousness, I fucking miss you, bro. I miss you more than I realized a person could miss another person. Whenever I need to talk to you again, I don't know what to do. I guess that's why it's good that Y/N made me write this.

Also, I'm really sorry for—

"What does it say there? There's a whole chunk missing," she murmurs.

He scoots close enough to her that she can feel his body warmth radiating onto her through the shoulder of his flannel. Sunlight reflects on the silver rings decorating his fingers as he holds one side of the paper to tilt it enough for him to squint at.

"Macking, I think. It's supposed to say "I'm sorry for macking on your sister."

—macking on your sister. You can totally kick my ass for it, but before you come back from the grave to murder me, let me defend myself, okay? She isn't just another girl for me, John B.

I think you knew it before I did.

Last summer, you asked me straight up if we were hooking up behind your back after I kissed her in front of you on the porch. I laughed in your face, but you were right.

You saw everything before me, man. You knew I loved her since we were kids and waited for us to come to you about it, so that's gotta mean something, right? I hope it means you wouldn't be mad at me for this.

I swear I won't fuck it up with her, but you already know that. That's why you asked me to take care of her,. I didn't know why at the time but I do now. I won't let you down.

I'm keeping my promise.

- JJ

P.S. Don't miss me too much. We'll be shotgunning beers together up there before you know it.

There are tears blooming in her eyes when she lifts her gaze from the tattered paper to look at him again, but they aren't sad. For once, the tears slipping down her cheeks are happy tears, not born from grief, sadness, and pain, but bittersweet happiness.

They're caught staring at each other for a second before he asks her shyly, "It isn't too sappy or anything, is it? 'Cause I thought it—"

"C'mere," is the only thing she can get out before she's tugging him forward by the front of his shirt to kiss him.

JJ stumbles a little with the unexpected force of her pulling him to her, but he takes it in stride. He steadies himself and lets his hands shoot out to grapple for purchase on her waist, keeping her pressed up against him tightly as he kisses her back.

And it doesn't get much better than this, does it? This is it for him. He meant what he wrote to John B, he won't fuck it up with her, especially not because of his trauma with his dad getting inside his head and sabotaging his relationship with her. This is what makes everything worth it.

It brings happy tears to his eyes too.

She can taste the salt of them where their lips meet in the middle. It makes her smile, wrapping her arms around his neck and clenching the letters he mended for her in her fist to keep them from blowing away in the wind, and they both start to laugh into each other's mouths at the poignant feeling they both share but can't quite place.

They pull away from each other to catch their breath after another moment of it, and she can't help but stare. How could she not when she feels like this? It’s less like he’s her boyfriend and more like a piece of her soul has attached itself to his with no hope of letting go in the near future.

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me," she whispers to him.

Plain and simple. No room for disagreement or a bashful rejection of the compliment. She's pulled back from him enough to hold his gaze and make sure he sees her seriousness, and there isn't anything he can do to refute her statement.

He brushes his nose against hers affectionately, dipping down to kiss her again, but when he leans back to see her face, he can't help himself.

"Ditto."

The rest of the day after their moment on the boat, locked away in their own little world where none of the monsters chasing them could sneak through and ruin it, melts away peacefully. After another half hour spent looking through the box together, of her thanking him over and over again, he hops off of the HMS Pogue onto the dock and extends his hand to her in the most gentlemanly manner possible.

His lips are curved into a smirk as he kneels down on one knee as though she's a revered royal and bows his head in subservience, "Princess Routledge."

Her hand fits in his warm, calloused palm as a perfect match, and she steps off of the boat onto the dock beside him with an expression to match his.

"Captain Maybank," she says in her most regal royalty voice.

Her stellar performance breaks into a laugh they share as he stands and throws his arm around over her shoulder to walk back to the yard. The cardboard box is tucked beneath one of her arms while the other slips around his side to hold him back, and her heart feels full with both the presence of JJ and John B alongside her.

They bury it together.

Tag List: @gabiatthedisco, @fangirlvoice, @black-syren, @apparrio, @particularcth, @planetdemon, @idk-ijustworkhere, and @krisphann

Also, now that it’s over, let me know what your favorite part was in the comments or tags if you’d like to :) I’m curious.

[lipstickstainz]

true lies - s. r. (7/15)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Series Summary: Spencer is furious, when you rejoin the team after a year and after you left him, when he got arrested. Little does he know, that you leaving him was the only option to ever get him out of prison

Chapter Summary: Girls night - and Spencer and you accidentally meet each other the day after.

Warnings: a little bit of angst, and fluff

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: I'm sorry it took me song long, but I was really busy. I hope you like it! gif not mine.

Series Masterlist

previous part

"Will you please pass me the can of glitter?", Penelope asks. Everyone gives her confused looks, except you. Your gaze is fixed on the pictures in front of you.

"What do you need glitter for?", JJ asks, taking a sip of her wine.

"This is supposed to be a vision board", she grins, grabbing the reddish can Emily holds out to her. She twists off the cap and sprinkles a little glitter on her hand before letting it trickle onto the glue-covered cardboard. "In my vision, my future is full of glitter. With the cruel things we have to see every day, everything should be full of glitter."

Emily has to grin, but raises her wine glass. The others do the same. "Here's to a future full of glitter." As the others toast and glasses clink together, you silently slide the pictures back and forth on your drab piece of cardboard.

It's been Penelope's idea for you girls to get together on a Saturday night to create vision boards together. It's been a week since Spencer and you spoke, and Penelope couldn't take your suffering anymore. She had tried so many times to cheer you up, but nothing had worked. Your heart was broken, your world was shattered, but Penelope can't take it. Ridiculous.

At first you were against it. In the last days you were just vegging out, your emotions as if erased, repressed and burned out. If you allowed your true feelings, you would break. You got up, went to work and went to bed at night. You weren't capable of doing more than that, because even every breath was far too exhausting.

And then, all of a sudden, the girls had shown up at your door. Their bags were filled with craft supplies, sleeping stuff, and alcohol. Penelope, not knowing what had even happened, had rounded everyone up and decided you needed cheering up. You wanted to slam the door in her face, but there was so much pain in her gaze and only then did you realize that you weren't the only one to suffer. Your friends were suffering with you and their visit was a kind attempt to get you back on track. And it started with them forcing you to shower and put on a sweater that didn't have a coffee stain on it.

"Y/N?", Tara addresses you and it takes a moment for your eyes to focus back on the piece of cardboard in front of you and you realize that you haven't put a single picture, saying, anything on it yet, while everyone else's hands are covered in glue. In your friends' faces you see confusion and pity. You look away. "You haven't picked out anything for your vision board yet."

Because I don't know what my future will look like without Spencer by my side, you reply in your mind. You don't want to pretend you can imagine a future without him when he's been a big part of it for years. And most of all, you don't want to admit it.

"What do you think of this one?", JJ asks, pushing toward you the snippet she's cut out of one of the countless magazines Penelope has brought. The words are written in thick letters. "Trust the timing of your life." Funny.

"Do you want to tell us what happened?", Penelope asks quietly, sipping her cocktail. There's already red glitter on the glass. "We can see how bad you are."

She only means well and she's also a good friend and actually you want to tell, but then it would come true. As long as you keep your conversation to yourself, you can pretend it didn't happen. You could go on as before and hope that everything will work out. But it wouldn't be the truth.

The truth is that Spencer and you would never get back together.

As you begin to tell it, all the dams break. Tears are streaming down your cheeks and you have to gasp in between as the words get stuck in your throat. No one interrupts you, they just stare at you, amazed that you are actually talking. And you don't leave out a single detail. You tell them that you were standing outside his room at night and he slammed the door in your face.That he wanted you off the team and insulted the crap out of you at Rossi's party, only to cuddle with you on JJ's couch afterwards and then call it a mistake. You tell them about the angry kiss, about your fights and reconciliations, and finally you tell them about your last night together and your conversation.

When you're done, you reach for your glass, which you haven't touched yet, and drink the wine down to the last drop.Only when the glass is empty and you put it down do you look at the others again.  Uncertainly, you look around and recognize an infinite number of questions in their faces, which they don't ask - to be honest, you wouldn't have the answers either - and mixed feelings, which you can't interpret despite your good profiling skills. But there's one thing you can recognize in every look you meet: pain. And even though they look at you with a lot of pity, you don't regret telling them about it.

If you break from it, you know the girls will put you back together.

"That's ... a lot”, Tara says first, taking a sip of her cocktail. You nod mutely.

"We always hoped you'd find each other after all”, Penelope confesses, twisting the glitter jar shut.Apparently, she's lost the desire to put more on her cardboard.

"Even though you left Spencer, we always thought it was for a reason other than you didn't love him anymore. You were the perfect couple and we just couldn't imagine it." Up until this point, JJ had been suspiciously quiet. She looks up from her cardboard. "And now you're back, and the way you're suffering right now, we can imagine it even less. So why would you say that to him? If it's not true after all?"

"That's enough, guys. We should change the subject”, Emily interjects pouring wine into your empty glass. You're infinitely grateful to her. Talking has drained you, and just thinking about Spencer hurts. Talking about it doesn't exactly make it easier to deal with it all, but the weight on your shoulders doesn't feel quite so crushing anymore.

"You still love him, don't you?" Penelope sounds hopeful. And you don't want to take away her hope, and especially you don't want to lie to your friends, but it has to be done. You promised, even swore, that the deal would stay secret, and it was already too dangerous to have told Emily then. You wouldn't risk your friends' lives.

"No, Penelope." The glimmer of hope in her eyes goes out. It's a feeling you know all too well.

"I don't want to get too close to you, Y/N”, Tara begins. "But then why do you feel so bad? If you didn't love him anymore, then you wouldn't be so heartbroken, would you?"

And you don't have an answer to that anymore.

The topic is over and will not be brought up again. At the end of the evening, your cardboard is still empty, but you feel a little better and you mentally make a note to yourself that you owe them. When the girls say goodbye the next morning after breakfast - Penelope hugs you a little longer than the others - you head out as well. Thanks to your friends, you've realized that there's nothing you can do about the situation, that you're going to have to deal with it - and definitely not alone - and that sitting lonely in your apartment waiting for a miracle to happen is not an option.

The warm sun on your skin feels good, like a hug, and you reach out to it as you walk to your favorite bookstore. There are many people out and about, walking or shopping. Countless people are sitting in the small cafes, eating and drinking and talking. You've only been back in D.C. for a few weeks and it feels like you've never been away.

Over the past year, you've been on the road a lot, not only in the States but also in Europe. In addition to work that has sent you nearly halfway around the world, you've sat in the Hamburg State Opera, eaten in the cute cafes in Bucharest, and admired the medieval old town in Lund, Sweden. You've seen and experienced so much, met new people, but nothing resembles home. And not being able to be here for a year had been incredibly difficult.

As you enter your favorite bookstore, the smell of old books rises to your nose and goosebumps spread across your warmed skin. How much you missed it. You may have been to other bookstores, but you know this one like the back of your hand. How you've missed this. You walk down the aisles, running your fingers over the various spines before stopping at a book. The cover is a faded red and somewhat damaged, with white writing that makes you want to pull it off the shelf and open it.

You are so engrossed that you don't notice how someone comes up to you and stops next to you.

"I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair," the person begins to quote and you wince, but don't turn around. "Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt fort he liquid measure of your steps."

You have to swallow, put a finger between the pages to find the poem again before closing the book and turning around. "Hi."

Spencer smiles at you. "I didn't think I'd run into you here."

You pucker your lips into a thin line. "Yeah, um, I haven't been here since I got back. Wanted to see if it's changed."

Oddly enough, it doesn't feel strange to be standing in this bookstore with him, considering you'd been here almost every day before and this moment is the first time you've seen each other outside of work since you had your clarifying conversation. Nervous, though, you are. You suppress the urge to tap from one foot to the other.

"So, has it changed?" Spencer tilts his head, but doesn't avert his gaze from you.

You shake your head. "Not really. But I guess the salesgirl who had the hots for you back then doesn't work here anymore." You try to lighten the slightly tense mood with the joke, and it seems to work. Spencer laughs out loud.

"I still don't think she had a crush on me." His smile widens, and it's so infectious that you have to smile, too.

"One hundred percent”, you return, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. "It was pretty funny watching her flirt with you all the time, but you didn't go for it."

The bookstore is completely empty except for you and the clerk at the entrance. Silence surrounds you, but it is not uncomfortable despite the circumstances and the new situation. You just stand there smiling at each other until Spencer takes the book from your hand.

"Neruda writes beautifully." He flips through the book once before handing it back to you. As your fingers graze, a flash goes through you, but you try not to let it show. "Very nice poems."

You nod. "I know. Only know him through you”, you answer truthfully.

Spencer has to grin. "True." He runs a hand through his tousled hair. "He's in that book I gave you once."

"Right." You don't want your conversation to end, and you don't want to leave, but it would be best for both of you. You're not ready to be friends yet, and while your meeting doesn't feel awkward, you're not sure how to handle it. You tap the book and look at him.

"I'll go pay for that." You walk past him, but turn back to him. "It's good to see you, Reid." You use his last name on purpose, knowing full well that his first name is reserved for friends. And in your opinion, you're not ready yet.

"It's good to see you, too."

You nod to him again before leaving without turning around again. You feel his gaze on you anyway.

When you get to work the next day, there's a gift on your desk. It's wrapped in brown wrapping paper and a cord is tied around it and tied into a bow. Simple and beautiful. You set your bag down, confused, before sitting down and inspecting it.

"Who's this from?", Luke asks, walking past you to his desk. You shrug ignorantly.

"I don't know."

The gift is slightly larger than your hand, but not particularly heavy. After opening it and putting the paper in the trash can under the desk, you take a closer look at the book. It's black, and the cover features a plain white flower, with the word "poetry" engraved underneath. As you open the first section, you come across something written. You recognize Spencer's handwriting.

"And then the day came, when the risk to remain tight in a bud, was more painful than the risk it took to blossom - Anais Nin."

Your heart skips a beat and you block out the feeling spreading through you. You flip through the book and realize it is completely blank except for this poem. The pages are lined and practically screaming to be filled.

"Do you like it?", Spencer asks, sitting down across from you at his own desk. He sets his fresh cup of coffee down in front of him and you give him a friendly smile.

"It's wonderful." You blink away the tears forming in your eyes. "Thank you."

"I found it in the bookstore after you left. And I know you like to read poetry, and I thought you could write down your favorite poems in it." He takes a sip of his coffee.

"That's very sweet of you. Really, thank you, Reid."

"Spencer." A thin smile spreads across his face and you warm. "My friends call me Spencer."

next part

- tags - 

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[kcarreras]

I Wanna Be Yours

Fandom: Outer Banks Pairing: JJ Maybank & Kiara Carrera Summary: It’s been a week since the Pogues arrived back in Kildare, after almost a month stranded on the island. Separated from her friends and under house arrest from her parents, JJ and Kie are finally reunited and forced to confront the consequences their time on the island has had on their relationship... Notes: This one is for @soldatstylesmaybank for hyping me up in her tags - I hope you like it! ❤️

The Pogues had been back in Kildare County for a week now. 

Seven whole days since she’d last seen her friends - last seen him - on the dock after their ferry arrived back from the mainland.

Her parents had been waiting, and were on top of her almost instantly - hugging and smothering her as they led her to the back of her mom’s SUV without so much as a chance to say goodbye.

Since then, her parents had been monitoring her every move to the point she felt like she was under house arrest, and maybe she was.

She’d wake up in the mornings to her mom pulling open her curtains, sunlight flooding the room and rousing her from her sleep, pretending she was there to collect laundry... at 6am.

Her dad would check in with her at night before going to bed, pretending he was only stopping in to say goodnight, but really his motive was the same as her mom’s - he wanted to make sure she was still there.

Her homework was being dropped off at the house by her school guidance counsellor at the request of her parents, after they claimed she needed time to ‘adjust’ to being back. Really, they just didn’t want her having the opportunity to sneak off somewhere - or with someone - she shouldn’t be.

After five days of constant supervision and being on her best behaviour, she convinced them that she should at least be allowed to leave the house for work. Her dad finally agreed that she could cover some shifts at the Wreck, as long as he was there.

It wasn’t ideal, but she’d take what she could get at this point.

The next day was a quiet Sunday in late October, and with little tourists left in the area and the locals at home out of the way of the wind and rain that was rolling in from the coast, the Wreck was empty. 

It was a little after 7pm when her dad made the decision to close early and send the other staff home. Once the last of the servers had left, he flipped the “OPEN” sign that hung in the door to “CLOSED”, and they began to clear up. 

About 20 minutes later his cell rang, and it was Anna. Her tyre had blown out and she was stranded at the side of the road, a few miles out of town. Due to the weather, the roadside recovery company hadn’t been able to give her an estimated arrival time beyond “a few hours”, and so Mike said he’d go and pick her up. 

At first he wanted Kiara to come with him, but she made a strong case for the fact that there was no use in both of them sitting in the car doing nothing for the whole journey there and back, when she could be here cleaning and boarding up the restaurant in case the weather worsened. Her father’s resolve was a lot weaker than her mother’s, who would have dragged her along anyway, and so he agreed.

He gave her the same lecture he always did when she worked a closing shift - make sure all the stoves are off, double-check the storm shutters are latched properly and don’t forget to turn all the lights off. She even jangled her keys in front of him, promising to remember to lock the door on her way out, and that she’d head straight home when she was done. 

Her dad eventually left, and she locked the door behind him before heading into the cleaning closet to grab the mop and bucket.

Her dad had only been gone a few minutes when she heard the rap of knuckles against the door. Assuming he’d forgotten his keys or wallet, she huffed, dropping the mop back into the bucket - now full of hot water and citrus-scented floor cleaner - and headed to the door.

“I swear, Dad, you’d forget your own head if it wasn’t-“ she began, but as she rounded the corner, the air was knocked out of her lungs.

It was JJ. 

He was standing in front of the glass door, hands buried deep in his pockets, shoulders shrugged up to his ears and his hood pulled over his head as the rain hammered down on top of him, dripping from the ends of his blonde hair that stuck out from under his hood and clung to his forehead.

“Shit,” Kie breathed out under her breath, subconsciously running her hands across her apron, smoothing it out across her thighs.

When she didn’t move immediately, JJ raised an eyebrow at her.

“Is there a secret password or some shit I don’t know about?”

His voice was muffled through the door, but she could still hear the humour in it.

When she still didn’t move, he spoke again, a little more serious this time.

“Seriously, Kie? Let me in, I’m freezing my ass off out here.”

She wanted to roll her eyes at the exaggeration, but he was only wearing a pair of long, dark boardshorts that hung to his knees and a washed-out, grey t-shirt with a flimsy navy jacket lying open over top - all of which was clinging to him like a second skin from the rain.

Normally she’d give him stick for being so inappropriately dressed for the weather, but she herself was wearing a pair of light-wash denim shorts and a lemon-coloured vest top with thin spaghetti straps, so she really had no room to judge.

She took another breath, bracing herself as she made her way across the wooden floor, boards creaking beneath her sneakers with every step. She knew the noise would be echoing around the empty restaurant, loud and obnoxious, but she couldn’t hear it over the sound of blood rushing in her ears.

She turned the key that was still in the lock and the door all but blew open into her as JJ tumbled in out of the elements.

“Finally, what took so long?” He asked, pulling his hood down and shaking his head like a wet dog, rain spraying from his dishevelled blonde head.

“Wow, JJ. Really?” Kie complained, stepping back out of his vicinity and wiping splashes off the bare skin of her arms.

When he finally lifted his head to look at her, he smiled, and something inside of her chest cracked open, and she felt some of her previous apprehension leave her body.

“Long time, no see,” he drawled sarcastically.

“Yeah. I almost forgot what you looked like,” she replied back in a similar tone, throwing the clean rag she was holding at him with a grin, before turning away from him.

“Please,” he scoffed jokingly, dragging the cloth across his face as he dried himself off.

“As if you could ever forget this face.”

Yeah, as if, Kiara thought to herself, all too seriously. Outwardly, though, she responded by giving him the middle finger over her shoulder as she continued to make her way back to her cleaning supplies.

“I know you struggle with the cursive,” she called to him, disappearing from view into the cleaning closet, “but you can read the sign that says we’re closed, right?”

“Yeah, I managed that one, thanks. I appreciate the concern, though,” he replied, pulling a stool out from the counter and perching himself upon it as she rummaged around in the closet.

“Luckily for me, I’m not here for the shrimp and grits. Unless…” he chanced his luck, but she stuck her head out of the closet for a second to scowl at him as she replied.

“Not a chance. Everything’s already been cleaned, I’m not firing it all up again to make you free food.”

“Worth a try,” he said with a shrug.

“So if it’s not the free food you’re here for, what is it?” Kiara asked him, her voice sounding distant from inside the closet.

“You,” he said, and she froze, her arm extended above her head as she reached up for another clean cloth and some spray.

After a moment she emerged from the closet empty handed, standing a few feet from him.

“Jay, we talked about this-” she began delicately, but he interrupted.

“No, actually, Kie, you talked. I just had to sit there and listen.”

Kie’s mind jolted her back to the last conversation they had before the ferry docked on the day they came home.

***

They were sitting together on a bench out on the deck, her head resting on his shoulder and their hands clasped together as they stared out to the approaching shore, the announcement signalling their arrival playing out overhead.

“So what happens now?” JJ had asked, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.

“What do you mean?” Kie had questioned back, lifting her head to look at him.

“Between you and me. I mean, these last few weeks... I don’t know. I guess I just thought things might be different.”

Kie thought back to the last three weeks - the lingering stares, the subtle but deliberate touches, their desire to be around each other all the time becoming more and more obvious as the days had gone by.

She didn’t remember exactly when things changed between them, but she did remember that last night they spent on the beach once everyone else was asleep.

She remembered the sound of his hushed laugh as it faded from his lips, his eyes shifting from piercing and glittering, to dark and wanting, as they fell from hers down to her lips, and back again.

She remembered the heavy breath he took when she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, nervous but excited for what might happen next.

She remembered her breath catching in her throat when he turned at the waist to face her, his hand reaching up to brush a stray curl back from her eyes, before trailing it down her jaw to rest on the side of her neck, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of her neck as he leaned in.

Her eyes had fluttered closed, and she’d stopped breathing altogether when she felt his breath against her lips.

One of her hands had tugged on his t-shirt, the other pulling down on the back of his neck as she tried to close the minimal space left between them...

But then Pope had stumbled out from the shelter just a few meters along beach, cursing as he tripped over a piece of rogue driftwood in the dark, and they had sprung apart as though they were suddenly allergic to each other.

JJ had cleared his throat as Kiara combed her fingers through her hair, and they jumped to their feet as Pope asked them what they were still doing up.

They made their usual excuse about not being able to sleep, and Pope shrugged, still half asleep as he wandered off behind the tree line, informing them he was going to take a piss.

With the moment gone, they retreated in silence back under the cover of the shelter, unaware that the next time they’d be alone to discuss it, they would be getting ready to dock back in Kildare.

“JJ, I - I don’t really know what to say.”

“Well that’s easy, Kie. You just say how you feel.”

With the dock coming in to view, the sight of her mom and dad standing at the edge, she began to feel overwhelmed, as though she couldn’t distinguish one thought from another.

She knew things had changed between them, and she knew that her parents were going to be unsufferable - that she was probably going to get shipped straight back off the island to boarding school the first chance they got.

She panicked, at what that would mean for her and JJ, and she didn’t have enough time in the next 30 seconds to think it through.

“Kie, what’s wrong?” JJ asked as she abruptly pulled away from him and got to her feet.

“Nothing, I’m fine, it’s just...” she trailed off, and the look on his face as he stared up at her broke her heart in two.

“I think it’s best that we just keep things how they are between us.”

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, and if she thought the look he had before was heartbreaking, it was nothing compared to this.

“Okay, but-” he began as his brow furrowed and his cheeks flushed, but she cut him off.

“Look, Jay, we’ve been friends for a long time, right? And these last few months have been crazy... and, y’know, being stranded on an island for three weeks? That shit can kinda fuck with your head. And so I just don’t know if we should let any of that change what we are to each other.”

She was rambling, and he was trying desperately to keep up, but the next minute the ferry shuddered as it made contact with the dock.

“Um, my parents are here. I should go,” Kie said, turning on her heels and practically running for the ramp.

“Kie! Wait a second,” he called, chasing after her, but other passengers on the ferry had begun to make their way in the same direction and a crowd formed between them. By the time JJ had pushed his way through, Kie was already disembarked and down on the dock.

“Kie!” he called after her, hands gripping the railing of the boat as she turned back to look at him. The rest of his friends, now also down on the dock, shouted for him to hurry his ass up, unaware of everything that had just unfolded.

Kie held his eyes for a second, before mouthing a silent, “I’m sorry,” and letting her parents lead her to the car.

***

He stood from the stool, and it screeched against the wooden floor as it slid back towards the counter, putting her nerves even more on edge.

“Look, I know your parents don’t want you to see me, or any of us for that matter. But, Kie, you can’t just ghost us, alright? No one’s heard from you since we got back.”

“That’s not true. You have.” Kiara argued weakly.

JJ scoffed, throwing his hands up.

“A text saying ‘Sorry, gotta dip for a bit,’ doesn’t count, Kie, and you know it.”

“That’s not all it said,” she replied, her voice even smaller now, her eyes dropping from his.

“No, you’re right,” he admitted with a humourless laugh, and it was the most annoyed she had ever heard JJ sound, at least towards her.

“It also said ‘I miss you’. What the fuck was that supposed to mean?” he asked, his blue eyes darkening and his cheeks flushing.

“Exactly what it said! I miss you, JJ. So much. I don’t wanna be apart from you. From any of you, but-” Kiara responded, her voice a little stronger now, almost a shout as her heart hammered in her chest.

“I don’t care about anyone else, Kiara,” he replied, and it was somewhere between a shout and a laugh. Kie flinched at the use of her full name, something he didn’t do very often and it made her uneasy.

It made her feel like they were fighting, which they were.

It made her feel like he was mad at her, which he had every right to be.

It made her feel as though they weren’t JJ and Kie anymore. 

Like they weren’t even friends.

And that made her want to cry. Which was ironic, because the whole reason they were in this situation in the first place was because during the three weeks they had spent stranded together - although probably some time before then, if she was being honest with herself - she realised that she didn’t want to be friends with JJ Maybank.

She wanted more.

“Jay,” she tried again, more softly, stepping toward him, but he pulled back.

“I can’t do this,” he said, and it was so quiet that she wasn’t sure he had actually said it.

“What do you mean? Can’t do what?” Kie pleaded, stepping forward again, taking hold of one of his hands in hers.

She tried to meet his gaze, but his blue eyes were darting around the room, desperately trying to look anywhere but at her.

“Jay, look at me, please,” she whispered, and a few seconds later he did.

“I can’t have this conversation with you if you’re not gonna be honest.”

“I’m trying, JJ. I am. But it’s complicated, okay? My parents said-”

“I don’t give a shit about what they have to say, Kie. This isn’t about them, or anyone else. How we feel about each other, that’s up to us. No one else is allowed to tell us shit about it.”

She dropped her eyes, which were clouded with tears that had yet to fall, and her gaze landed on their hands that were still intertwined.

As JJ slipped his hands from hers, her eyes darted up to his, scared he was pulling away from her. But then she felt his cool palms on her hot, flushed cheeks and her eyes fluttered shut for a second before looking back up at him.

“If you tell me right now that you wanna forget everything that’s happened over the last month…”

JJ took a deep breath, as if he was bracing himself for impact, before continuing.

“If you tell me that you wanna pretend that it never happened,” his voice trailed off, and her hands came up to grasp at his wrists as he continued to cradle her face.

“I’ll do that for you. If that’s what you want. But please don’t ask me to do it for anyone else.”

His head fell forward, eyes closed as his forehead came to rest against hers. Kie squeezed her eyes shut, and the tears finally fell.

JJ felt them trickle against his palms that were still pressed to her cheeks, and he opened his eyes, brushing them away with the gentle pads of his thumbs.

“Tell me what you want, Kie,” 

It was all but a whisper against her lips, which were inches from his as their foreheads remained pressed together, noses brushing.

Kiara’s eyes opened and met his, holding his gaze for a second before speaking.

“I wanna be with you,” she said, and before JJ could register what was happening, she pushed herself up onto her toes until her lips met his.

He was still against her for a second until the surprise wore off, and then his mouth was moving against hers. 

Her hands slid from their position around his wrists down his forearms, pulling gently until he dropped one hand to her waist and pulled her body flush to his.

Her mouth fell open when the front of his body collided against hers, and JJ’s tongue which had been running along her bottom lip made its way into her mouth with a groan. One of Kiara’s hands knotted itself in the damp material of his shirt in an attempt to pull him even closer, the other snaking its way through his hair and tugging gently.

JJ grinned against her mouth, and when she felt it, she pulled back slightly to do the same. JJ took advantage of the brief pause to not only catch his breath, but to reach round behind her and untie the apron that was still around her waist. As it came undone in his hand, he tossed it on the floor behind him. His lips came back to meet hers as his hands slid down her body appreciatively, coming to a stop just under her ass. His warm fingers and the cool metal of his rings pressed into the exposed skin beneath her shorts as he lifted her until her legs were wrapped around his waist.

He walked them forward a few steps, and Kie whined at the momentary loss of contact between their mouths as he set her down on the counter.

She tugged again at his t-shirt to bring him closer, and he gladly obliged, settling himself between her legs. He hooked his hands behind her knees and pulled until they were flush against each other again, and her thighs tightened their grip around him in response.

“Fuck, Kie,” JJ breathed against her neck as his mouth dropped from hers into the crook of her neck, desperate for air.

The words and the sensation of his breath against her skin sent a shiver down her spine, and he felt her arch her back in response as her chest pressed against his. A moment later, her head fell forward to rest on his shoulder, breathless.

JJ’s hands began to wander from where they had been running up and down the smooth, bare expanse of her thighs up to her waist, fingers tracing under the hem of her top that clung sinfully to her curves.

When she felt him hesitate, she lifted her head from where it was resting on his shoulder, her lips brushing his skin as she dragged them upwards across his jaw until they hovered over his again. She nodded, eyes burning into his before they fluttered closed again and her lips collided with his.

His hands pushed under her top, roaming the expanse of bare skin on her back. Kiara’s hands moved to push his jacket off his shoulders, pulling it down his arms until she heard it hit the floor with a soft thud.

The rain continued to hammer against the roof above them, and pelt off the glass windows surrounding them as the last of the sun disappeared below the horizon, casting pink and orange and purple shadows across them and the empty restaurant.

Kiara could feel the strong planes of his chest and stomach beneath the damp t-shirt that clung to him, and she wanted nothing more than to peel it from his skin and have it join his jacket on the floor.

Her hips rocked forward instinctively at the thought of it, and JJ groaned against her mouth as his fingers dug into the soft skin of her hips. 

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and a few seconds later a snap of lightning lit up the sky and they flinched, pulling apart slightly.

They were as close as they’d ever been, noses brushing, eyelashes tickling the others cheeks, lips brushing but not quite touching as they caught their breath.

“JJ,” Kie breathed, shifting so her mouth was now against the shell of his ear, and his skin prickled as he hummed in response. 

“I really don’t want this to end, but…” she trailed off with a sigh as her arms came up to drape across his strong shoulders, pulling him close as he straightened up.

“I know,” he whispered against the column of her throat, where her pulse was still hammering, before wrapping his arms around her waist in response.

They stayed like that for a minute or two, just holding each other close and taking in the moment - God knows when they’d be able to have another.

“I’m sorry,” Kie whispered into the silence, and she felt him smile against her neck before he spoke.

“Don’t be. That was further than I ever thought I’d get with you.”

“That’s not what I meant, dumbass,” she laughed against his ear before pulling back to slap him playfully on the shoulder. She let her arms slide down from where they had been wrapped around him until her palms rested flat on his chest.

JJ relaxed his hold on her too, hands coming to rest lazily against her waist as his thumbs traced circles into the bare skin between the waistband of her shorts and the hem of her top.

“I’m sorry that everything is so complicated.” She clarified, her soft, brown eyes gazing into his.

“Don’t worry about it, alright? We’ll figure it out,” he comforted with a gentle smile, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“So,” he said a few seconds later, followed by a cough to break the tension, “We’ve got some floors to mop, huh?”

Kiara tilted her head, a smile breaking out across her face and lighting up her features at the sight of him grinning back at her. 

JJ lifted her down from the counter, setting her on her feet before turning them around so he was nearest the counter and she was facing away from him.

“Better get to it, Cinderella,” he said, smacking her gently on the ass over her shorts, and she turned to shoot him a look of mock offense over her shoulder.

“Aren’t you gonna help?” she asked, nodding her head towards the cleaning closet that was still lying open.

“Sure. In a minute though,” he replied, still leaning back against the counter.

“What’s wrong with right now? I’m working under a time crunch now, thanks to you.” Kiara asked, turning to face him again with a drop of her hip as she crossed her arms over her chest, eyebrow raised at him.

“If you must know, thanks to you,” he began, repeating her own words back to her with emphasis, “I need a minute to… regroup, if you will, before I can move from this position.”

When Kiara continued to stare at him blankly, he dropped his gaze from hers down to the front of his shorts and back again, and Kiara threw a hand over her mouth to stifle her laugh.

“Right. Got it.” she replied, holding her hands up apologetically but still looking wildly amused. “Sorry about that.”

“Sure you are,” he drawled with a laugh as she moved over to where her apron and JJ’s jacket had landed on the floor, bending over to pick them.

“Not helping, Kie,” JJ groaned from over by the counter and she stood back up, turning to toss the item at him.

“My bad,” she said with a grin, re-tying her apron around her waist and picking up the mop.

A while later, when they had finished mopping the floors and had moved on to polishing glasses whilst Otis Redding played in the background on an old record player in the back office, Kie’s phone buzzed with a text from her mom letting her know they were on their way back.

***

Kiara cried as she said goodbye to JJ on the boardwalk outside of the restaurant, clinging to him as though she might never see him again because, with the way her parents had been acting, it was a real possibility.

JJ whispered comforting promises against her ear and pressed soft kisses into the now all too-familiar crook of her neck. He wiped away her tears and told her he’d see her soon, one way or another, before climbing onto his bike.

She looked on as he reached the end of the road, where he would turn left to go South and she would turn right to go North, and she had never realised it was possible to feel so close to someone and yet so far apart at the same time.

[playitaagain]

90 on Prompt List 8 for jjpope please 😊 I’m so excited for all the new obx fics!

Thanks so much for the request and I hope you're enjoying the new fics!

I have a headcanon that JJ has withdrawal symptom when he's on the island. This will be his first time without alcohol or marijuana in we can only guess how long and a common theme in season two is JJ's flask (and we know he smokes often). I wanted to touch on that in this fic. If anyone is struggling, feel free to reach out.

Warnings: Alcohol withdrawals, panic attack, anxiety.

“Can…can you come over?”

JJ’s hands are shaking. They won’t fucking stop. It comes to the point that JJ ends up sitting on his hands, forcing a smile on his face as they sit around the fire after a long day of gathering supplies. JJ spent most of that time pretending to fool around just so the others didn’t notice the clear anxiety he was feeling.

He didn’t even understand what the hell was happening. He’s away from his father. He’s away from the island that labeled him as a lost cause. He’s away from everything he’s hated. He’s happy to be here yet he can’t seem to stop his racing heart or shake the nauseous feeling in his stomach. It’s fucking annoying.

He doesn’t even know why he’s sick. Pope somehow manages to figure out the easiest way to catch some fish and JJ hasn’t even had a bite before his stomach is turning. He isn’t even hungry if he’s being honest and he knows what hunger feels like. The churning is so bad that he ends up excusing himself, stumbling away until he can tuck himself behind a treet.

He can’t seem to stop the shaking, blue eyes blinking back tears as he curls his hands into fists in his frustration. Sweat is soaking through his shirt and he can’t seem to calm down. He ends up curled up behind the tree, arms around his knees and everything hurts just a bit.

It isn’t till he dry heaves that he thinks he should probably tell someone. He could have the flu or something. He doesn’t want to spread it around, but he knows someone will come looking for him eventually. He can’t risk getting the rest of them sick but he needs something. He doesn’t know what, but he knows it involves Pope.

He forces himself up on shaky legs, leaning against the tree before he stumbles back to the group. He tries not to draw their attention as he leans toward Pope, hands shaking as he rests it on Pope’s shoulder.

“Can…can you come over?” JJ whispers. He can feel eyes on him now, Pope’s worried gaze the strongest as he nods, sharing a glance with the group before following behind JJ. He has to catch JJ at one point, a tree stump catching his foot, but Pope doesn’t let go when they straighten up, frown pulling down his lips.

“Are you okay?” Pope asks once they’ve made their way behind a tree. He’s completely pulled away after he helps JJ lean against the tree and JJ misses his gentle hands. Pope is always gentle with him, always understanding.

“I-I don’t know,” JJ answers honestly, because even he knows something is wrong. He hasn’t eaten all day yet he isn’t hungry. He can’t stop his hands from shaking and it’s taken everything in him not to throw up as his stomach churns.

Pope takes a thoughtful minute, eyes scanning over JJ, like he’s trying to diagnose him. He reaches a hand forward quickly to press against his forehead, frowning at the results when he pulls away. “I-” Pope pauses, worried gaze meeting JJ’s. “When was the last time you went without a drink for more than a day?” JJ’s brain is a bit foggy, the question confusing. It must show on his face because Pope sighs, shifting forward like he wants to reach out. “When was the last time you went without a drink, JJ? Or smoking?”

The flask in his pocket was gone before they left the pier, vape ruined when it landed in the water. He can’t remember a time in recent years that he went without for this long. “I don’t know,” he answers honestly, tears coming to his eyes when he looks down at his hands. He feels like complete and utter shit.

“JJ, I think you might be having withdrawal symptoms,” Pope explains, clearing up the question. JJ sucks in a breath at admission, flickering back to those health classes they took freshman year about drugs being bad and knowing that was his path anyway (because he had started years before). He vaguely remembers talk about withdrawal but never thought he’d ever experience it.

He can’t seem to stop the tears from tracking down his cheeks, heart pounding. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He never thought this would happen. He just wants a fucking drink to get his mind off this, but that isn’t an options. Fuck.

“Can-can you hold me?” JJ cries, because this sucks. He wants a drink so badly so he can numb his stupid pain.

Pope is gentle as he shifts to move next to him, allowing JJ to curl up into his side, face pressed into his neck. This sucks and he isn’t sure how he’s going to get through this, but he knows Pope will be by his side the whole time.

[whump-town]

Stubborn

Everybody taking care of old Hotch because... I don't like it when old Hotch gets left to just die on his own :( don't ask why that's where I draw the line

No pairings

No warnings

In Jack’s second semester of his junior year, Hotch collapses again. He’s home this time, out in his garden under the glaring sun. The day had begun no different than any other. The birds on the powerline chirping and causing their disturbances, as eager for the day to begin as the school-aged children shouting in the street. He’d watched them from the sliding glass door facing the street, his tea warm in his hands. He’d waved at a few, the older ones who recognize him as a mystifying adult with stories to be unlocked. The younger children give him a face akin to a monster’s, his mystery horrifying in their already confusing enough lives.

It’s an hour before lunch. Two hours before Spencer shows up because it’s Thursday and he teaches a class on this side of town every Tuesday and Thursday at 2. One that he occasionally asks Hotch to attend -- as a guest lecturer, as a treat to his students, or just for the company.

He could call just about anyone.

Emily’s downtown, on her way back from a meeting with the Department of Justice. She’d be thrilled for an excuse to not go back to the office and spend an hour or two in his kitchen telling him about those pretentious assholes.

Garcia’s about ten minutes away, working at a nonprofit teaching “at-risk” kids how to code. Being the guiding hand she’d needed as a teenager so that they might not repeat the same mistakes she made. She was lucky, Hotch saved her but he’s not around to catch any more kids like her.

Morgan got hired by a family two streets over to fix up their house before they move in. He’s there now, tearing out rotting beams.

This collapse is not of the life-threatening kind. Not to Hotch at least. There’s no internal bleeding, no emergency surgeries. He doesn’t even need stitches but he’s on so many medications that thin his blood that it’s just on the safer side. From the hospital, he calls who he needs to. Reid first, he’ll worry when he gets to Hotch’s house and sees his truck gone. Then, Jack, it’s better to hear this sort of thing from him and not Emily in half an hour when she needs to yell at someone and who better than the son of the idiot she hates right now? Dave and Emily follow and he trusts them to carry the news the rest of the way. Rather, he simply doesn’t want to talk about it anymore and he’d rather Garcia and JJ and Morgan and everyone else just be mad at him than go on to have another conversation about how he’s feeling.

Fine. He just got light-headed. It was the heat and his perpetually low iron and probably his thin blood (the killer had been his blood pressure but they’re working on that). He just needs to get better about remembering to eat breakfast -- a larger breakfast than just tea and toast. Fainting, he assures Dave, happens. Jack’s seen it happen. The heat makes it worse, the summertime drains him. He’s come in from the garden and gotten weak in the knees plenty of times. He actually moved some chairs around the sliding glass door to the yard, prepared for this exact problem.

This over clarification does not help.

Made only the more complicated when he explains his head is fine. The fainting thing really isn’t a big deal, he just needs a ride home. He’d landed weirdly and pulled his back. He left with a new problem entirely, a torn ligament in his shoulder. That is a problem for a different day.

The surgery is set for the week just before Jack’s finals. Armed with a suitcase full of textbooks, his laptop, notes from this semester (and a few from last), and just enough clothes to recycle a few and still be fine, Jack shows up on his father’s doorstep. “I mean, the hospital isn’t exactly the library… but it’s not the worst place I’ve studied.” It’s far too late to send Jack back but Hotch is reluctant to let him stay. Even if he does prefer Jack be his ride rather than the likes of Penelope and that tiny green eye-sore of a car she drives or leave him to Reid and his defensive, jerky driving.

To the sound of “Aaron Hotchner November 2, 1971”, Jack settles down with his books. He tries to put himself in the right headspace for studying but it’s harder than he anticipated. The constant motion of the room unsettles him and he looks up several times to see his father’s reaction. To gauge the anxiety in his face, in the deep breathes that he pulls in through his nose. In how tight his fists are holding the sheets underneath him. It’s a simple surgery and they’ll be out of here in no time.

“Young” his heart had not handled the heavy sedatives and morphine well. Then again, those incidents are always hard to measure against a thing like this. Rushed into the ER with nine chest wounds and having nearly bled to death, it’s natural to conclude the stress of his depleted blood supply and his very recent trauma had caused his heart to stop on the table. That said trauma was the reason his heart had maintained to be a steady problem up until they released him. Again, when he was brought in with some of the worst internal bleedings the staff had ever seen. His heart had given them trouble too.

Jack is staring blankly at his flashcards when the doctor comes out.

Hotch had gone to Georgetown to be a lawyer like his father and his grandfather. Jack went to Georgetown to get an Art History degree. He was lead by something else. Not chasing some shadow, clutching at a lie he spoonfed himself. Jack didn’t live in anyone’s shadow, never felt the pressure to look and act a certain way. Was never beaten into submission or told to hold his tongue. Jack went to museums every Saturday with his father, preferred them to the aquariums and the zoo. Hotch held him close to the artwork, pushed his dense schedule around to go to new shows, and learned the names of pieces just to recite the knowledge back to Jack.

In his lap, Jack is memorizing pieces of art like his father had years ago for him. He’s stuck on The Anatomy Lesson, eyes glued to the details. The way colorless skin is held in forceps, peeled back to reveal angry red. He can feel the pinching teeth on his own skin, feels the heavy flow of hot blood spilling down over his arm.

“Hotchner?”

Jack flinches, caught completely off guard. He stands, flushing as he tucks his notecards into his textbook, and stands. “Ugh, yeah. That’s me.” He wipes his hands off on his pants, rubbing away the nervous sweat he’s built up.

The doctor recognizes him from earlier. He’d watched Jack and Hotch get out one last goodbye. Jack pulling up a nervous smile, dirty-blonde hair, and light eyes a complete contrast to Hotch’s ever-darkening features. Somehow more solemn, voice taken by the sedatives already working through his body. He hadn’t said a word, eyes vacantly following Jack’s movements but unaware.

Jack expects the same monologue he hears every time. The one that comes out so dry and perfect that they must practice it in front of the mirror, say it softly to themselves as they as they get ready each morning. He’s got it memorized himself -- the bits about recovering in post-op, make a full recovery, and whatever on the fly timeline they give for access back to the room.

“But he’s-- He’s okay? He’s--”

Jack feels impossibly childish. Five years old and Emily’s chilled fingers brushing his tears away, “baby, I know you miss your mommy. But you’re being so terribly mean to your daddy.” He had been, a terrible little monster squirming away from his father and refusing to eat anything. Throwing tantrums about nothing and everything. Screaming and crawling under his bed every chance he got. Pushing himself to the wall knowing he couldn’t be reached.

Now he can remember Hotch just sitting at the edge of the bed. There on the floor for hours. Sometimes he read, would pick up a book, and just start from wherever just to make it so his voice was reaching where he couldn’t. He slept there too, on the hard ground just to make sure Jack knew he was there. Slipped strawberry pop tarts on crazily designed animal plated under there, offered bites of his own food to the darkness under the bed. Sippy cups full of chocolate milk and juice.

He feels like a little boy again, getting news that he has no idea how to handle.

“He’s okay?” Jack stammers. “He’s going to be okay? I can see him?”

Hotch remembers those days under the bed too. Waking up in the middle of the night as Jack groggily curled close to him, still under the bed but crawling under his blanket. The ends of those awful sobs, Jack’s little chest jerking as he hiccuped. The force of his sorrow was too much for his little body. And Jack would fall into his lap, exhausted and needing comfort. His little fingers tracing the scars on Hotch’s face. How he whispered “thank you” and “please” from underneath the bed and how he’d pop his head out to say, “Daddy, I’m going to potty. I’ll be right back.”

Jack’s legally old enough to drink now and Hotch still sees that little boy. The three-year-old wiping his snot on Hotch’s dress shirt. The six-year-old holding his hand and reminding him to look both ways twice before crossing the street. The eight-year-old he left the hallway light on for, old enough now to think he needed to brave the night without a nightlight. So Hotch would offer to keep the hallway light on, not for Jack but for him because he doesn’t like the dark. The ten-year-old sheepishly offering him a father’s day gift he bought with saved allowance, a t-shirt he’s now worn the words off of. The fifteen-year-old curling up beside him on the couch, seeking his comfort but not sure how to ask anymore. The eighteen-year-old as tall as him talking his ear off while he tries to get dinner ready, sticking his fingers in the pan and sitting on the counter.

How did he grow up so fast?

He’s not a little boy anymore. Hasn’t been for a long time.

The creaking of a chair moves Hotch’s attention and he looks away from Jack. Away from the sight of his little boy curled up on a cot, drooling onto a pillow and notebook still open, a pen dangling from his fingers. He looks over and Emily’s sitting up, her reading glasses precariously sat on the tip of her nose. “Oh look,” she mumbles. She stretches out, groaning as her joints complain from being held in this miserable hospital chair for hours. “You’ve decided to join the land of the living.”

Hotch watches her fold the thin black frames of her glasses up, gently sits them down by his hand as she stands up. Jack had called her, even though he promised he wouldn’t worry anyone. Hotch didn’t want anyone else coming to the hospital over something so small and though Jack protested that their concern wouldn’t be because he was bothering them but because they love him. The very same reason he’d come home is that people gather after these sorts of things. They need reassurance that he’s alive and he’s just going to have to accept that. They compromised in the end, everyone could come to smother him in worry after he got home from the surgery.

But Jack was scared. He called the only person he could think to, the woman whose role in his life that was never really clear. She’d gotten on him about his grades, smacked the back of his head when he said something stupid, and always let him taste-test her wine at Thanksgiving dinner. Emily knew things that not even Jessica knew and she could be sterner than both Hotch and Jessica and also more relaxed, more understanding. She was always there for both of them, in the same capacity as Jessica and yet her own unique one. A friend Hotch trusted and loved and Jack could understand that. His friends always wanted to know if they were dating and he knew intuitively that the answer was no but he would hesitate to try and explain. But he didn’t understand the gravity that pulled them together, adults and their relationships far too complex to fit it into his simple understanding of love.

He did understand she was the only person to call.

“What’d he do this time?” she asked and knew she was playing the wrong role for the wrong Hotchner because no sooner than she could ask she had an armful of Jack. She sat with Jack for hours, let him get his fear out. Held him while he sobbed, felt pulled to the past. When it was Aaron on her shoulder, terrified he’d lose his son. Life has this very odd way of bringing everything full circle.

“I bet you’re hurting.” Emily moves to the table and pours water into the little paper Dixie cup left by the nurses. “Been right dramatic this afternoon,” she informs him, a dissatisfied matter-of-fact tone in play. “I know you find that to be particularly taxing.” She holds the cup for him, gentle despite her annoyance. She’s close enough to see the iodine on his skin. Dark orange swipes across his pale skin, the smell burns with its strength.

He pulls greedily from the cup, mouth impossibly dry. Stopped only by how little she poured, he sinks back heavily into the pillows behind him. His shoulder hot and angry from forcing himself upright.

“They’re going to let you go in the morning,” she says, sitting back down. He won’t remember this in the morning. Emily holding his hand, whispering thickly how angry she is with him as tears fall down her face. How scared she was getting that phone call from Jack, racing down here to be a composed person to comfort his son thinking her best friend was in the morgue.

He’ll wake up with a pit in his stomach, residual feelings from the night before he can’t tie down to memories. Emily shows no inclination to repeat herself, just coldly informs him that she’ll have Penelope make him a cardiologist appointment (it’s unspoken that no one trusts him to do this himself). Jack walks on glass, close by but terrified of being pushed away. Hotch is too out of it to put up much of a fight, by the time the morning shift has their hands on him he’s silent. Properly dosed up for a ride home and out of his mind.

He’s groggily propped up on pillows, watching Jack and Emily fight over if he has the right to wear shoes or not. Emily wants to hold them captive, he won’t run off or refuse the wheelchair without them and Jack shakes his head, “he’s not our P.O.W, Emily. He’s even going to get that far if he does try to run.” He’s given his shoes but Emily makes a point to collect his cane, holds it while the nurse helps him into the wheelchair. He’s a flight-risk and she’s not going to trust him, he’s run off on her too many times for that.

At the house the other’s have gathered up, having nothing better to do evidently on a Wednesday at ten in the morning. Penelope’s frying eggs and bacon, the carnage it takes to feed their brood spread out on his kitchen counter. Reid sitting on the counter, Hank in his lap, and the two of them watching Penelope. Derek’s on the sofa, feet kicked up on the coffee table, and Savannah learning on his shoulder. Dave’s getting orange juice from the store declared them all lawless, and didn’t trust them to get the right kind.

Hotch is granted his cane to get back inside the house but Emily threatens to kick it out from underneath if he tries anything fast. He smacks her ankle and Jack has to actually step between them to keep them apart. It’s in times like these where Jack finds himself wondering how these two ever had any role in raising him at all.

“Don’t you have jobs?” Hotch asks, hooking his cane over the coat rack and toeing his shoes off. He ignores the hand Emily places on his arm, afraid he’ll knock himself over. He manages just fine, has the whole house set up so that every other step is within arms distance of something to lean on. Fingers trailing the back of the couch he limps past Derek, smiling when Savannah offers a soft “glad you’re okay”. She pats his hand and he nods back.

“Up for some food, sir?” Penelope asks and she’s not taking no for an answer. They might be having heaping servings of eggs and bacon and gravy and orange juice but she’s made two small bowls of oatmeal. She takes the medicine Jack tosses up on the counter, puts it at the end where the rest of his medication sits. “I cut up apples,” she tells Hotch with a wide grin, sliding the bowl in front of him. “Dashed a little cinnamon and sugar in there, it’ll stick to your bones. Keep you healthy.”

He’s at a healthy weight at the moment, not as thin as he leans to when he’s sick but with Hotch, it’s always a good thing to have some collateral weight for the “in case”. Lifting the spoon in his left hand he scoops some of the oatmeal up, doing his best to hide his annoyance at how weak his extremities still are. How his hand shakes under the light strain of the oatmeal. He looks up, watches Spencer carry Hank over to the highchair sitting at the table beside him. He’s distracted so Emily swoops in, takes his spoon from his hand, and tries his oatmeal. He lets her do it. He raises an eyebrow and she shrugs. She likes it. He nods, it’s pretty good.

Hank immediately knocks his spoon on the ground and makes a low whining sound in the back of his throat. “Hop help,” he whines, pointing down at his spoon. His speech is still developing so he pronounces help and hop nearly identically but Hotch understands the difference. He just can’t bend over like that. His right arm is still pinned to his chest in an intricate web of gauze and this sling.

“Reid,” Hotch calls. His voice is deep, strained from intubation and anesthesia. It makes him sound sick. “He’s dropped his spoon.”

Reid nods, he already knows.

Hank points to his shoulder and frowns, “Hop fall down?”

Hotch nods, that is pretty much what happened and at the same time, Emily sweeps in and tickles Hank. She presses kisses to his face and making him laugh loudly. “That’s what happens,” she says. “Hops is just old.” Hank is too distracted by the ongoing attack to defend Hotch not that a toddler rising to his defense is very helpful.

Hotch sighs as Jack comes up behind him, stealing his spoon too. He takes a bite of the oatmeal and deems it nearly as good as the kind that Jessica makes. Hotch wants to be annoyed by it and yet all he does is nod and finds himself smirking just a little.

Penelope calls everyone in for breakfast and Hotch ignores the kisses pressed to his cheek as people drag chairs to the table around him. To the hands that slide over his back, assurance of life he remembers Jack calling it.

Derek slides him a mug of tea, made exactly how he likes it. He sits across from Hotch, close to Hank in case either needs assistance. Emily sits to his left, slides her coffee up beside his tea so he can have some if he’s quick about it. Jack sits beside her and the rest is a blur, too much motion at once for him to take in without his contacts or glasses. Penelope slides a tea plate to him, his medicine on it, and kisses his head while he’s still scowling at the plate.

They don’t leave him alone all day.

He ends up taking a nap with Hank, the toddler’s sticky little fingers holding onto his shirt as he finds himself unable to fight off the effects of the medicine and his full stomach.

He’s squished on the couch between Derek and Dave, forced to watch baseball because he can’t worm his way upright again just yet.

They change the dressings on his shoulder, his teeth clenched tightly so that he doesn’t let anything slip.

At midnight he wakes up on the couch. Jack’s bedroom door is shut, he’s sleeping peacefully inside. His heating blanket is pulled up to his chin, the heat turned up all the way. He can’t remember getting into this state himself but he has a fate memory of JJ helping him move his hand to his mouth, encouraging him to take the pain killers before bed. Of Derek making sure he didn’t just fall straight over onto his side. He manages to find Dave stretched out on the Lazyboy -- the chair he got Hotch for his fifty-something birthday. He’ll wake up in the morning to more food being made in his lonely kitchen, JJ this time. She’ll make blueberry waffles.

If he’d wanted attention, Emily will tease the next morning, he could have just asked. And he didn’t even know he wanted this. He never finds the words to ask for it to continue but every Saturday morning it happens anyway -- his kitchen and living room full of pajamas and suits in varying degrees depending on who has what to do that morning. The fainting thing is not cool but he considers this to be a good trade.

[spacedikut]

risks ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary:  “Hi! Do you take requests?? If you do, can I please request a Spencer x Reader (Including the BAU), where they are dating and the reader is a year or so younger than spencer, but just as smart and very loved by the team, and one day she has to save the team from an unsub and gets really hurt and after everyone is safe they are all really worried about her?? Idk if that made sense at all. Love you work!” 2898 words

a/n: do i know anything about bombs or surgery or post-op procedures? No. did i still have a lot of fun writing this? Yes . i hope you like it! this specific request has been sent to multiple fic writers which i didn’t know until i’d already written and posted BUT the good thing is every writer is different so every request will be approached differently

masterlist

“No.”

“Hotch-“

“I said, no.”

“My girlfriend is stuck in there with a psychopath, Hotch! I can’t leave her in there!”

“I know, Reid. But I need you out here, alive, rather in there, dead.”

Spencer glares, “She could be dead in there for all we know.”

Emily winces from behind Spencer. Hotch stands, hands on hips, trying to think logically despite the situation, “We can’t afford to think like that.”

“He has a bomb! He-he-“

“Reid.” Hotch says, tone authoritive to show he’s playing unit chief and not old friend Hotch, “I need your head in this. We need to profile him to figure out the best way to negotiate – we can’t do that if you keep threatening to act irrationally.”

Spencer scoffs. Derek steps forward and pulls Spencer aside to talk him down from the metaphorical ledge he’s standing on. He’s one second away from running right into that abandoned building that everyone had just evacuated, bar you, and straight into the arms of the man who now has you hostage with a bomb ready to be detonated whenever he pleases.

Hotch already tried calling and negotiating. The man scoffed, voice gruff, and rumbled, “Either I get what I want, or both me and the pretty agent are getting blown to bits.”

In hindsight, they should’ve been more prepared.

Storming the abandoned warehouse, the team expected to find the remnants of a crime scene – they profiled the warehouse was the base of operations for the unsub, a place for him to store all his supplies, and because it had made the news that the FBI were on the case, they assumed he would’ve started running the second he felt them closing in.

He didn’t. He’s ready to go down with his ship, and you’re the unfortunate one that found him. And his homemade bomb.

Derek found the bomb-making equipment. He shouted in his comm for everyone to evacuate, and Spencer realised the second he stepped outside that you were not there. And you hadn’t responded to any calls after stepping into the building.

All it took was one call from the too proud unsub for them to realise your life is in the balance and for Reid to stop thinking rationally.

Spencer should’ve gone with you. He knows you can handle yourself, you’ve saved his ass enough times, but if he’d just.. followed you instead of JJ. Maybe you’d both be in there, or, even better, out here. Alive. Safe. No hostage situation in sight.

Suddenly, several shots ring out.

The team ducks behind their SUVs, Hotch having to drag Spencer down when he doesn’t react, just in case he decides to run straight in.

“It wasn’t the bomb!” Derek calls across, their heads beginning to pop up from behind the vehicles.

Spencer breaks free from Hotch’s grip and sprints into the warehouse. Bomb be damned, there were exactly six shots fired – the exact amount you have in your revolver.

Also the exact amount he has in his revolver.

“Go! Go!” Hotch shouts. The team all charge after Spencer, separating and flowing through the hallways and doorways of the warehouse – there’s this sense of dread running through all of them. There’s something so unique to the panic you feel when someone so close to you, someone so dear, is the one in danger.

There’s a screech from the back of the warehouse. It’s filled with agony, anguish and unadulterated pain – loud enough to reach every nook and cranny of the premises.

“I need a medic!”

Spencer’s throat burns from the tormented yell that leaped from his throat when he found you. There’s so much blood, and it takes Spencer longer than it should to find where your wounds are: two shots to the stomach, one too close to your lungs for comfort.

Although, none of this is comforting. Your eyes are closed.

The unsub is dead. The team looks around the room and easily pieces everything together: you both shot at the same time. You were able to give fatal hits and Spencer refuses to let the hits you got become deadly too.

They spare little to no attention to the bomb – the bomb squad stampede in and analyse it. Their focus is you, if you’re breathing and if the blood has stopped and how weak your pulse is.

It’s too weak. Spencer chokes on a sob above your body.

“Spence, you gotta move,” Derek’s voice is gentle despite the chaos around them, two medics taking Spencer’s place when Derek pulls him away.

“She-she- I can’t-“

“I know, kid, I know. We have to let them take care of her.”

The team is frozen around you as a stretcher is brought it. You’re being given oxygen, the medics are frantically shouting all kinds of things that Spencer doesn’t register – he follows behind you, shoulders slumped and cheeks wet, scanning you from head to toe constantly to see some display of life within you.

Hotch tells him to ride with you to the hospital. He doesn’t bother sparing the team a glance – he needs to keep his eyes on you because if he doesn’t he’s terrified you’ll disappear and he’ll never see you again and never hear your voice and never get to hear you say “I love you” ever again.

He’s terrified.

+++

You’ve been in surgery for hours.

Spencer’s still covered in your blood. He sits next to Derek, who just force-fed him half a granola bar, leg bouncing while he bites his nails.

The whole team is waiting impatiently. Hotch hasn’t sat down once, JJ has been on the phone to Will and Henry several times so she doesn’t go crazy, and everyone has been taking laps around the hospital to burn off some… fear? Apprehension? Just to do something?

Penelope broke several driving laws to get here. She came in, makeup smeared all over her face and hiccupping as Derek caught her when she approached them and collapsed. It took her an hour and a half to calm down.

“Reid.”

Spencer doesn’t move.

“Reid, kid.”

Derek nudges him. He looks up, lips chapped and bitten raw, and looks at Rossi who holds his to-go bag.

“You should change.” Rossi says, a warm smile on his face as he speaks quietly.

Spencer stares at the bag, then his shirt and sweater vest. He nearly vomits – your blood is everywhere. It’s dried now, a testament to how long you’ve been on that table, and he feels himself getting choked up all over again. He wishes he could help you. He wishes this wasn’t happening.

The guilt sinks in.

If he’d stayed with you. If he’d followed you. If he’d found you a little earlier. If they’d realised who the unsub was quicker. If they’d come to the warehouse more prepared.

Maybe you’d be here. Maybe it would be him on the operating table. God, he wishes it was him.

He needs you alive. He needs you.

“C’mon, Spence,” JJ whispers. She can’t speak any louder or she’ll cry. She takes the bag from Rossi, gingerly takes Spencer’s hand and pulls him towards the toilet just a little way away.

She opens the door and holds it open for him, gesturing with her head for him to go in.

“It’ll take you five minutes. I’ll be right here.”

He sniffles and nods, a tear sliding down his cheek, and heads in.

Everyone breathes a sigh of relief when they hear the lock of the door.

Spencer hasn’t moved since he got to the hospital and you were hurried away straight into surgery. Your eyes opened in the ambulance and Spencer could only cry harder – you used every last bit of strength you had to grip Spencer’s hand and passed out again.

He hasn’t spoken, either. No one can blame him. But changing clothes, cleaning your blood from his hands and forearms and it’s somehow on his neck, that’s progress. It’s about as good as they’ll get until there’s an update on you.

Spencer slumps back out of the toilet, walking clumsily towards his friends with his head facing the floor. The room is too bright, his eyes are beginning to sting from crying, and his heart is hurting because he doesn’t know what’s going to happen. All of it is giving him a headache.

You know how to help him with his headaches. You always know how to help him. You.

There’s movement from the large doors next to Spencer. A doctor comes out, looking frazzled and still in scrubs, and says, “Y/N Y/L/N?”

They all stare.

“She’s stable.”

Penelope lets out a verbal gasp and a “Thank God,”, both Emily and JJ’s heads fall in their hands in disbelief and even Hotch’s head falls back as he lets out a sigh of relief.

Derek’s hand grips Spencer’s shoulder. He’s too shocked to say anything.

“Can we see her?” Derek asks. He knows Spencer will want to see her the second he can, and he’ll spend every moment with her until she’s fully healed.

The doctor gives a pitiful grimace, “Only one at a time, unfortunately. These next twenty-four hours are vital and we don’t want to overwhelm her.”

“I have to see her.” Comes Spencer’s voice, weak and fragile as he still chews his thumb.

Hotch nods, “Of course. Spencer, you stay with her and we’ll come back later.”

He then nods towards the rest of the team and they all filter out slowly, all acknowledging Spencer in one way or another – Penelope kisses his head, Derek and Rossi give his shoulder a squeeze, JJ, Emily and Hotch tell him to text them if he needs anything.

He knows they don’t want to leave, but Spencer would fight every single one of them if any even tried to see you before he could. He needs to see you for himself. Needs to see you breathe.

“Follow me, sir,” The doctor says, “She might look a little off-putting – she had more injuries than we thought. But she’s steady and strong, so we’re confident she’ll make it through.”

She gestures towards your room. Spencer nods and gives a tight lipped smile, mumbling, “Thank you.”

When the door’s pushed open, Spencer chokes on a cry.

He remembers the only time he was shot: that one time in the leg. It wasn’t much. It was a shock to the system, but ultimately he was fine. He’s come to love the scar thanks to you - you’ve placed plenty of kisses on it for him to see it and instantly think of you and the love you bring.

Which is exactly why he can’t lose you. He loves you too much and he knows you love him and he’s never been so sure of anything or anyone in his life until you and he swears to God if you’re taken from him-

He takes a deep breath, pulling the chair towards your bed as close as possible as he moves to interlock his fingers with yours and grip tightly.

Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay.

+++

Penelope is the first to visit. She waddles in, flowers, chocolates, a card, a cuddly bear and some food for the good doctor in her arms. When she walks in she realises Spencer is knocked out in the chair next to you. She’s not surprised; she didn’t want to leave you, but Spencer needed to be with you.

She pokes him gently. And again, when he doesn’t respond.

He jumps awake, immediately going to rub his neck that is stiff after spending hours at an awkward angle.

“Morning, handsome,” Penelope smiles. She hands him the food she brought and, after sparing a glance to your sleeping form, he takes the bag and digs in.

“Thank you,” He says quietly. Penelope looks at you.

“How is she?”

“Not bad. She hasn’t gotten worse, and that’s all I can ask for.”

Penelope leans over and presses a kiss to your head, “She’s a boss. She’ll be up and at it before you know it.”

Spencer pauses in his eating and watches you, feeling nothing but love and pride, and his lower lip began to quiver. He clears his throat and looks away.

His eyes have been rubbed raw from Spencer trying to stop his tears and from trying to stay awake all night, just in case you woke up. He doesn’t remember when he fell asleep.

Derek appears then.

“Hey, you two,” He’s also carrying flowers and a cuddly bear (the team knows you so well – the way to your heart is stereotypical gifts). He gives Penelope a side hug and shoots Spencer a nod, “How you feeling, pretty boy?”

He rubs his eyes, “I’m awesome.”

Derek chuckles, “Uhuh.”

He looks at you, then, and his smile becomes tighter. Penelope grips his arm and tugs him towards her, leaning her head against his shoulder.

“You two look cosy.”

All attention is snapped to you: half lidded, voice coarse, lips dry. Spencer drops the bag of food.

“Hi, pretty,” He grins, eyes filling with tears again when he stands and leans towards you on your bed. God, what do you do to him?

His forehead rests against yours and you close your eyes in comfort. His smell fills you, all familiar and oh so welcome after whatever the hell you went through. Your whole body aches, breathing feels strange and almost unknown, and you’re acutely aware of the tubes in your nose.

Spencer pulls back suddenly, eyes jerking open, and grabs some water for you, “Here, drink.”

You do as he says, gulping it down and gulping down a second and third cup.

“I’ll get the nurse,” Penelope says, having to tear her eyes away from you because you’re awake and it fills her with so much happiness to see you okay.

After a quick visit from the nurse, you’re told you have to stay for a further few days and you pout at the thought. No one likes hospitals. No one likes being stuck in a hospital.

The whole team arrives and Derek and Penelope offer to go meet them to catch them up on everything before they come in. Everyone knows it’s really so you and Spencer have a second alone.

The second the door closes, Spencer kisses you. It’s eager and full of angst. You wish you could wrap your arms around him and pull him in tight, but everything hurts. So that’ll have to wait.

“You had me so worried,” Spencer gasps, forehead against yours and hands cupping your face, “So, so worried.”

“My apologies,” You giggle. It hurts to do it, but Spencer makes you so happy, even in a dreary hospital. “Won’t happen again.”

“It better not.” He smiles. He feels like all the tension has evaporated from his body - you’re here, you’re okay, you’re awake, you’re as perfect as ever. “You had everyone scared.”

“I have fans?”

He can’t help but roll his eyes at you. You just woke up from being shot and going through a long surgery, and you’re joking around?

He loves you so much.

Your arm slowly moves up to loosely hold his wrist. Your eyes look glassy, suddenly.

“I love you, Spence.” You breathe, “My first thought when I got shot was I’d never be able to say that to you again. I love you so, so much.”

Spencer grips your face tighter and pulls your lips back to his. There’s so much passion in the kiss; he wants to tell you he loves you every second of every day for the rest of his life, and he’s trying to show that.

Now you’re here, he can do that. Thank God he can do that.

“I love you too. So much. I’ve never been as scared as I was when I found you, I-“ He gets choked up again, “If you ever do something like that again, we will have issues I swear to God Y/N-“

“Kiss me again you idiot,” You say, all smiles.

When the whole team roll in, Spencer is perched on the very edge of your bed, hand in yours, thumb rubbing back and forth. They all smile at you, holding various gifts that get you very excited, and tell you how glad they are you’re okay.

Derek’s brows furrow, pointing at your heart monitor, “Now what happened while we were gone, cuties?”

Everyone looks towards the monitor, where your heartbeat is still high from kissing and being close to Spencer after being scared you’d never be able to again.

You and Spencer blush, “I’m just very happy to see my team.” You say, trying to suppress a smirk.

“Yeah, yeah,” Derek smirks at you both, “Just couldn’t keep your hands off eachother, huh?”

Spencer sputters, “It would be so inappropriate to do anything like that in a hospital, Morgan! Actually, hospitals…”

As Spencer rambles on, you scan the room and find yourself tearing up. You feel so cared for and loved, surrounded by the people you consider family and holding the hand of the love of your life. You’re so lucky, you realise, despite the situation that led to this, to have such amazing people so close.

You move and lean your head against Spencer’s shoulder and, mid-sentence, he presses a kiss to your forehead.

It’s an honour to be so loved by such lovely people.

[myjjbaby]

jj request where the reader and jj always write their initials on each other’s wrists ... and one day jj x reader are in the shower and he finds that she got a stick and poke of his initials ... and reader is extremely embarrassed and jj is immediately like where did u get it, i want mine done and it just turns into the “you’re it for me” conversation and it’s super soft 🥺🥺 maybe soft teasing from other pogues cause jj is w h i p p e d

stick ‘n poke

author’s note - here’s a major softie lol thank you so much for the response to the bet that’s been absolutely insane!! y’all are honestly the best and I love you 💕💕

synopsis - requested by anon! Kie convinces you to get a tattoo and your boyfriend loves you for it.

warnings - 1.4k of soft boi JJ and a lot of fluff vibes

JJ has always been obsessed with your hands. Playing with your fingers with you cuddled into his chest, twisting your ring, the one he bought for your birthday, and holding yours up to compare their sizes as his curled over the tips of your nails. You first noticed his interest in them when he played with your beaded bracelets and traced ‘J.M.’ into your smooth skin, emitting a giggle from you.

It became a constant, a reminder of the love you held for each other. JJ always needed a concrete proof of affection like holding you at all times, so his rough fingertips would write it over and over again.

‘J.M.’

You’d realized it was his way of knowing you were his, that you wouldn’t disappear when it all became too much. JJ always had the overwhelming anxiety that you’d wake up and realize you deserved better than the broken boy laying beside you. You thought he deserved better, too.

The silent show of affection became a habit for you, tracing your initials with your curly handwriting that JJ always teased you for. The letters would be rubbed across his wrist before your lips would press kisses along his arm and hands. You noticed he found the motion calming, placing his letters into your skin when his breathing turned labored in panic and you reciprocated the touch with your own, affection spilling from every part of your body.

‘J.M.’

Kie was pulling you along towards a little beach shack on Figure Eight after your shift at The Wreck, giggling about you needing to step out of your comfort zone. She clasped your hand in hers before pulling you under the curtain covered entryway.

“Hi Carrie.”

The woman, Carrie, looked up from her desk, bright pink hair wild with little tattoos scattered across her body. The homely owner, you assumed, grinned widely and pulled Kiara into a warm hug.

“My favorite customer and she brought a friend,” she smiled softly at you, “I’m Carrie.”

You introduced yourself, gripping onto Kie tighter really wanting to trace JJ’s arm at this moment.

“What can I do for you?”

“Well, I want a new tattoo and Y/N here does too.”

“I do?”

Kie gave you a wink before starting a conversation with the pink haired women, talking designs, size, and pricing. You heard something along the lines of a dolphin stick ‘n poke. It made sense, the Carrera’s would never approve of a permanent tattoo, though you’re not sure Kie cared what her Kook parents thought.

“Come hold my hand? We can talk about what you want while Carrie does mine, yeah?”

Nodding along with the idea of more time to think, you settled into the large woven chair next to the leather seat Kie was already settled in. You smiled at your friend and squeezed her hand when the needle first pressed to her dark skin.

“So, what are you thinking?”

“I- I don’t know.”

You admired the ink decorating the pink haired artist’s skin. She had birds and flowers. Quotes and letters. Dates and initials. Initials.

“Carrie?”

She hummed at you, not moving her eyes from Kiara’s hip, a dolphin tattoo developing on her skin.

“Could you do initials with stick ‘n poke?”

“Honey,” she winked at you, wiping the excess ink from your friend’s body, “I just did a dolphin. A couple letters is nothing. Kie, girly, you are done!”

The curly haired Pogue flew out of the large brown leather seat and looked at her fresh mark, the outline of a dolphin clear against her tan skin tone.

“You ready?”

Nodding your head, you settle into the seat that Kiara occupies before.

“What are the initials?”

“J.M.”

Kie squealed when she heard your idea, watching as you offered your dainty wrist to Carrie. Kiara grabbed your hand and squeezed like you had when the needle first punctured your delicate skin.

“JJ gonna go wild.”

“Yeah,” you giggled, “if he ever finds it.”

“He’s literally in love with your hands and wrists. He’s gonna find it.”

The two of you continued to chat about everything and nothing, Carrie muttering something about us sounding like laughing gulls. The constant poke of the needle turned dull and you barely noticed she was done until the tattooed artist told you to look.

‘J.M.’

You and Kie laughed and gossiped the whole stroll back to her family restaurant and waited for the boys to show up in John B’s beat up Volkswagen. You grazed the spray paint on the side of the brown van and slipped into the back, laughing at the stupid antics of the Pogue boys.

“Hi, baby.”

JJ’s hands were quick to wrap around the small of your waist and pull you down between his legs. Your blonde boy pressed a kiss to your neck until you rolled your head to the side, feeling his victorious smile against your warm skin.

Much to your luck, JJ was far too invested in your fingers to trace his initials into your wrist. Kissing your temple, he nuzzled into your neck again. His eyes fluttered shut with you finally in his arms and safe in his presence.

The trip back to the chateau was peaceful, the laughter of your friends lulling you to sleep still wrapped in your blue eyed boy. You didn’t notice you’d made it back to the old fishing shack until JJ was carrying you through the screen porch, whispering a soft night to your friends as they crashed in the living room.

Your boyfriend carried you into the bathroom, setting you down on the cold counter and turned to start the shower. He knew you couldn’t fall asleep with salt matted on your skin no matter how sleepy you were.

“C ‘mon, shower and then sleep, yeah?”

You nodded against his shoulder as he quietly undressed you, untying your bikini and walking you into the steaming shower. JJ silently washed the sand from your smooth skin and pressed lingering kisses along the plains of your figure, keeping your weight on him, knowing you couldn’t hold yourself up when you were this drowsy.

Before too long, JJ noticed the pruning on your fingertips and toweled you down. Slipping his worn white long sleeve shirt over your shoulders, he stopped short when your familiar beaded bracelets rolled down your forearms as you held your hands above your head to help him change you. His fingers brushed the now exposed ink and smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to his initials marked in your skin.

“Baby.”

You hummed into his skin, your eyes shut and curled into his chest. You didn’t notice that JJ had found your new accessory.

“What’s on your wrist?”

Your eyes snapped open when he traced over the tattoo of his name.

‘J.M.’

“Kie, she, um, she brought be to this tattoo parlor near the wreck and convinced me to get a stick ‘n poke and I- I don’t know, I thought I’d get your initials because you always trace them,” you watched for his reaction, “it goes away eventually, Kie said like a few years but it fades before that and I could probably get it removed if you don’t lik-”

“Can I get mine done tomorrow?”

“What?”

“I want one too, with your initials and we can match.”

You smiled and kissed the boy on his cheek.

“You sure you like it?”

“I love it, baby. If you didn’t realize already, you’re it for me. Maybe we can get them permanently one day? Like a promise ring?”

“Yeah?”

You couldn’t help but giggle into his skin and finger through his blonde waves. JJ pressed kisses all over you body until working his way down your arm and lovingly pressed his pink lips to your inked skin.

“I’m in it for the long haul.”

“Yeah?”

“Change of plans- I’m getting a permanent one tomorrow. I love you.”

“Love you too, J.”