#like for JJ it's the first time he's let himself actually love another man the way he wants to while for Reggie it's a lot of -

[enhanced-operatives-division]

Points at you. 10 and/or 11 for starstruck?

Two starstruck asks,,,,,,joy of joys,,

Part of an ask game linked here.

#10. What's an au you have for them?

Since them meeting at all is technically an AU i have 3 different ways that they do meet up. There's the one where Juniper ends up with the agency/adjacent to and ends up working with Reggie (have written a fic with this). The next one is Juniper surviving but basically going stealth and living as normal of a life as he can and ending up meeting Reggie through chance (most recent fic I've written). And then there's my personal favourite where Reginald "You're lucky my tracking skills are still up to snuff" Crane keeping himself busy after Phoenix was MIA and finding Juniper still alive (fic I want to write but haven't started mainly because it may end up multi chapter).

In terms of more AU canon bending taking them and putting them in a completely unrelated situation...I have a guilty pleasure Warrior Cats AU for IEYTD in general. Both JJ and Reggie have perfect warrior cats suffixes in their names already (Juniper and Crane) so they're called Junipersong (charcoal bengal) and Craneflight (tabby Norwegian forest cat). It's very silly but the amount of scenes I have in my mind for it...good lord...

#11. How was their first kiss like?

Augh my friend Imp wrote an absolutely excellent fic about it (tragically in the realm of unfinished Google docs) and I'm shaking their hand about it so hard. Basically Juniper kissing Reggie but he like wasn't ready/fully expecting it and Juniper absolutely panicking because he thinks he's misread every interaction between them both since they got closer. The second one is much sweeter though,,

[writersblockedx]

Bachelors

Pairing - JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader Summary - Y/n is the kook JJ has been effortlessly in love with for years now. Only problem being: she didn't date pogues. Warnings - good bit of angst, alcohol use, implications of sex Words - 2.2K

Masterlist

JJ should have been used to it by now. The flashy dresses which hugged her figure like a glove; the way her eyelids would flutter at the sight of any half-decent man; the smile she wore which was ever so slick and sinister. JJ also should have known that any kook with no originality or personality (pretty much all of them) would have brought Y/n here, to the restaurant he worked at.

Some would call it a coincidence that JJ happened to be on shift that night, but the boy himself believed this was God looking to taunt him. Her giggles erupted through the rest of the candle-lit room. Kook couples and families all intertwined, forkfuls of food and a demand for the waiter's attention. Yet the only attention that JJ cared for was Y/n's - and she was giving  her all to the mediocre first date.

"And you know, the Grady White, it's a good boat, but it has nothing on the original." JJ overheard Y/n's date explain. He was some level-headed kook whose personality consisted of the white polo shirt he was currently wearing and boats apparently.

He slowed by their table, struggling to keep any sort of eye contact that wasn't a burning glare. "Can I get you guys anything else?" He questioned. "The bill?" Please say yes, JJ pleaded within his head. Whenever she didn't get another drink after the third course, the date had been a futile one.

But she flashed a smile and flicked her hair around as to face the blond, "Just another wine please." And like that, any hope faded from his pupils. He nodded, gave her date a stare before turning and rushing back to the kitchen.

She'd had two drinks after the third course. JJ knew what that meant: she was taking him home. He had talked to the girl enough as well as watched enough of these dates play out, and he was well aware of her tells. JJ knew when Y/n was interested in actually getting to know the date, when she definitely wasn't and when, like now, she was only interested in taking him home. And no matter how hard he tried, preyed and attempted to slither his way in, JJ was never one of her bachelors.

He was lucky to grab her before she slipped from the restaurant. His hand gently tugging at her arm, prompting her focus on him. "Hey," His voice was breathy, a whisper against the air between them. "You really going home with this idiot?" His head nodded to the door where, passed such, her date was awaiting their taxi.

A laugh escaped her lips, "What? You gonna stop me?" There emerged that smile, that sickening, sweet smile JJ was captivated by.

His hand never left from her arm. It lingered. "I just- he doesn't know what he's talking about." The blond had huffed. "That stuff about boats. I mean that's- it's obscene, you know that, Y/n."

"JJ, I'm not gonna reject him over his preference in boats." Her chuckle steadied as she suddenly became eager to join the man.

But the pogue tilted his head, never daring to let his touch leave her. "Maybe you should." His tone was serious. Only to be broken by the grin which was hanging at Y/n's lips.

"I'll see you later." And like that, she turned, taking steps away from him as his finger tips fell from her forearm.

As he had done a hundred times before, JJ watched the girl leave. He should have been collecting the bill of the other table, but he chose it better to loom for a moment, right until her shadow exited the restaurant completely and he was left wondering if Y/n would ever turn to a pogue and take them on a similar date.

By the next morning, there came no surprise to JJ when the girl wondered in. No longer dressed in her silky, expensive material but rather denim shorts and a t-shirt. The sort of thing she'd never wear to a date. The sort of thing she only wore around her friends, people like JJ for instance who was setting up for their lunch time rush.

"Later than I expected." He called as she drew closer to the boy. He had napkins shoved in both hands, rushing as he placed them down on the different tables.

There still lingered that smile at Y/n's lips. But her nightly experience had urged the enthusiasm to fade. "The guy wouldn't leave till he got my number." She informed, tailing behind him as she did many mornings after dates. "Had to give him a fake one." There came no reply from JJ and Y/n swore she had never seen someone so focused on napkins. "Here, let me-"

Her hands were reaching out to a grasp them, to help her friend, but her offer had been snatched away. JJ turned, a sour look dwindling in his pupils. "I've got it." He huffed before continuing on. "You ever think that maybe this isn't working for you?" He questioned, eyes centred on the tables he was decorating.

Y/n's brow raised, "What do you mean?"

"The dates." Said JJ, finally glancing to meet her dull expression. There came no smile anymore, just a reflection of apathy. "None of them seem to be turning into anything."

She thought on it for a moment but found herself shrugging, "Hm, I guess." JJ paused too as to face the girl. "But I've got the best system going. Possible bachelor walks in and I've already got JJ Maybank as my wingman for the night." She giggled at her words - something JJ hadn't accompanied her with.

"You ever think about dating someone who you've actually had more than one conversation with." He suggested, treading lightly into these uncharted waters.

"And where's the fun in that?" There laid a cheeky glint in her eye that JJ attempted (and failed) to ignore as he shook his head, walking back towards the front of house.

"I wouldn't have to listen to you complaining every week for one." He noted.

Absant-mindedly, Y/n swung an arm around JJ's shoulder. It was in that moment that the boy truly couldn't ignore the glint which settled in her gaze. "But I tip you so much." She argued.

His head tilted, "You mean you get your 'bachelors-" He added the air quotation marks to such, "to pay."

Y/n hummed, "Same difference."

"I honestly don't know why I help you." JJ uttered.

The girl leaned closer to him, "Because you love me." A paused followed before she continued, "And if you didn't, then who would I pretend is my toxic ex-boyfriend whenever a guy starts giving my the creeps."

Her arms slipped from him and she watched this expression mould carefully. All this time Y/n had been bombing on about dates, this and that, she had yet to come to note the sorrow look which was drowning JJ. The glimpse of such had made the smile dissipate from Y/n herself. "I can't do this forever, Y/n." The blond admitted.

"What do you mean?" Her words came with a chuckle as to try and lighten the suddenly thick atmosphere; it hadn't worked.

"I mean, my job isn't to play pretend boyfriend for you, or listen to how terrible or fantastic your date is going." He was seething and Y/n had never seen JJ so agitated. "My job is to wait tables, to clear plates and clean tables. I guess as a kook you don't understand that."

She shifted, a part of her aching just knowing this was how JJ felt, "JJ, I'm sorry, I didn't realise-"

"Of course you didn't." He interjected before giving her the chance to continue with his words. "All you talk to me about is this guy and that one. You know now I think on it, I can't remember the last time you actually gave a shit about what was going on in my life. I shouldn't even be surprised. You're a kook, what's it matter to you the shit that's going on in my pathetic pogue life."

The boy was about to turn, barely having it in him to look at that down-hearted expression the girl wore. But, before he was able to do so, Y/n reached out, her hand cupping his. "I'm sorry that maybe I'm bad at showing it, but I care so much for you JJ." He knew he was weak against her soft gaze. "I really do."

But as his gaze flickered between her and her hands, he couldn't bare it anymore. "Yeah, well maybe it's not that you're bad at showing it, maybe you just don't at all." And like that, he snatched his palm away, turned his back and rushed off so Y/n couldn't follow him.

She stood in the loneliness of the restaurant with thoughts flooding. Never had she stood in the spot she was now without someone at her side. Suddenly, Y/n came to realise how daunting that empty space was. It taunted her and she wanted nothing but than for JJ to return. But it seemed that, without even realising it, she had just drove the boy away.

It lasted a week. Y/n tossed and turned rather than sleeping. Her mind was a wandering mess and she couldn't even fill such with the futile dates she would usually arrange. So, rather, she had no choice but to fumble around her thoughts. Her mind went over and over the words JJ had spat at her that day. And she wondered if she would ever be able to make it up to him.

With JJ's words in mind, she strung together a plan. She contacted the restaurant, making sure he wasn't working that Saturday night and once such was confirmed, she organised the rest of her plan. As was her usual, Y/n was in her silky dresses, her hair perfected and her smile not daring to faulter. The only difference being that this night in particular, she wasn't waiting outside some kook house, or waiting for some flashy sports car to show up. Instead, she was in the cut, wandering up to JJ Maybanks looking like she didn't belong.

Her knuckles gripped the flowers in her hand as she huffed, climbing up to JJ's porch. With her free hand, she knocked against it, waiting patiently as heavy footsteps followed. The door swung open so abruptly it had almost made the girl jump. "Well, hello there, pretty lady." Sung Luke.

Y/n had only met JJ's dad a couple of times. Though, he was usually drunk or high when that had happened. But she'd heard stories. Some from JJ, some from other people on the island. Criminal, scum, dirty pogue. He lived up to the stories. "Erm, sorry, is JJ in?" She questioned, hoping she could keep conversation with Luke to a minimum.

He gave her the once over before his head turned back, "JJ! There's some rich lady at the door for you!" He yelled, loitering at the door before their came rumbles of sound from another part of the house.

"What? Dad I told you to send sales people away-" His words were aimless until he came from his room, his eyes settling on the girl who was standing in the doorway. "Y/n." He spoke her name like a breath of fresh air.

She offered a smile, "Hi."

JJ gave his dad a glance before taking his place, Luke wandering further into the house. "What are you doing here?" He inquired, staring between her dress, the flowers and her features.

"Showing you I care." She passed over the flowers and he took them with knitted brows.

"You bought be flowers?"

The girl could only shrug, "And there's a table booked at 7."

The boy wanted to be mad, but he couldn't. Not with the way she was looking at him. "What? Am I meant to be your date for the night?" There was humour in his tone.

"You'd have to forgive for that." She tested the waters with her words.

And when he took a step out onto the porch, she knew she had won against the odds. "And I here I was thinking you didn't date pogues." He said, coming to her side, offering his arm.

Y/n linked it with her own, "Only you." Her eyes glistened at him. Not like they did with the kooks she walked at the side of. Tonight, they were glistening in relief that the one boy she truly cared for finally saw such.

They hadn't even made it to the car when JJ had leaned over, brow raised, "You are gonna pay for it right?" A giggle escaped her lips. But she certainly owed it him.

[c-m-stuff]

Secret Santa

Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

-Description: You and Spencer are together. It's secret Santa time.

-Warnings: Fluffiness

-Word count: 1157

-Note: A sweet fic for the upcoming holidays. Do you guys love Christmas as much as me?🎄🎁

Masterlist

Y/N POV:

'That was delicious, Dave.' JJ complimented the Italian man, the whole team agreeing.

'You really went all out this year.'

'Of course, I went all out. It's Christmas Eve for God's sake.' he replied, while we all laughed.

'My favorite was the wiiiiine.' Penelope giggled, as she poured herself another glass of wine, causing everyone to chuckle.

It became a tradition to all celebrate Christmas Eve at David's place. It was nice, spending time together without standing next to a dead body. Another tradition was secret Santa. The game you pull blindly a name out of a bowl to thereafter buy a Christmas present for that person. I've always loved it.

'Calm down with the wine, baby girl. We don't want a re-do of last year, when you all told us what's in the presents, before we got to actually open them.'

I giggled at Derek's statement, as I felt someone sitting on the couch next to me. Looking up, it was my genius boyfriend.

After pinning at one another for almost a year, the pretty boy himself admitted his feelings and asked me out for a date. The situation it happened wasn't the normal one, though. It was the end of a workday at the BAU, as the elevator suddenly decided to stop working. While we were in it! After panicking at first, and calling the team, we got stuck for a good hour. Which let us to admit our feelings for one another, all while curled up on the elevator floor. After that, time went on, and so did the dates. And, then there was one special moment were he asked me to be his girlfriend. I am still thankful for that elevator to stop working on that special day.

'It's secret Santa time!' David announced, and everyone went to grab their presents from under the Christmas tree, before heading to the comfortable couch.

JJ pulled Emily's name and bought her a gift card from a nice clothing shop and a tequila bottle. Emily got Aaron and decided to gift him with a black coat and a reading light for if he goes over paperwork in bed. Aaron drew Derek's name and bought him two tickets to a football game and a new tool belt for when he is renovating homes. Derek got David and gifted him new cooking equipment and a bottle of 30 years old scotch. David pulled Penelope's name and decided to gift her a pair of beautiful, pink heels and two tickets to a theater play. Penelope got JJ and presented her with a gorgeous necklace she's been talking about buying but never got around to and a mock with a text saying: "I'm a mom, what's your superpower?".

As everyone was done gifting the other their presents, they all realized Spencer and I drew each others names, considering we're the only ones left.

'Of course the two love birds got each other.' Derek commented, a grin plastered on his face. Although, it didn't went unnoticed by me when Derek winked at JJ, who was already grinning by herself. Then, it hit me that JJ was the one who was in charge of the bowl full of names.

'Okay, pretty girl, you first.' Derek said, as I gave my present to Spencer.

I watched as he carefully tore the wrapping paper off, revealing the first edition copy of the book The Illustrated Man by Ray Bradbury.

'No (Y/N), you did not!' he exclaimed, enthusiastic.

'How did you- Where did you-' he looked flabbergasted and guilty at the same time.

'You didn't have to, I would have been fine with a gift card from the book store. This must have costed you a fortune.'

'Ahh, not quite, genius. Well, I was last helping my grandparents with moving out. They're going to live in an apartment instead of a way too big house, like I told you. And, surprisingly, I found the book on the attic amongst some other books. I got it for free.' he kept staring at me in shock, still flabbergasted. He instantly wrapped me into a greatful hug, pressing multiple kisses on my head.

'Thank you. Thank you so much!'

'That's not all, pretty boy. Open the book.' I told him, as he did. A gift card from the bookstore revealed. Everyone laughed at the earlier mention of a gift card for books, as Spencer once again thanked me with words and a hug.

Then, he gave me a gift bag, covered with Christmas trees. I took the first thing I felt and tore off the wrapping paper. It revealed a stunning vintage camera. My eyes widened, admiring the, in my eyes, piece of art. I've always adored polaroid photos.

'I remembered you saying that you really wanted one. You wanted to capture moments like these, and that you loved the reality of the photos because you have only one shot.'

'Thank you so much! It's amazing!' I pressed him in a tight hug, before he spoke again:

'There's more, though.'

We ended the hug, as I reached for the bag and took the other present out. I was quick in ripping of the wrapping paper, seeing it was a beautiful notebook. He clearly knows my love for notebooks and this one was covered with blue butterflies. Absolutely gorgeous.

'Thank you! I love it!' once again, we shared a tight hug, as Spencer whispered something in my ear.

'That's not everything.' I pulled back and looked at him with a surprised face.

'There is more?' he nodded, gave me the most sweetest smile, and went down on one knee. I gasped, tears already forming into my eyes.

'(Y/N), you're the best thing that ever happened to me. Since the first day I met you, you were nothing but kind, you listened always to my rambling, and you made me a better person. I love you for for being you. You are beautiful, inside and outside. (Y/N), you are my future. Make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?' I was still shocked and couldn't believe this was happening. My soulmate was proposing. I couldn't be more happy.

'YES! YES, I WILL!' I flew in his arms, everyone cheering and clapping.

Tears were now fully pouring out of my eyes, and it wasn't different for Spencer. My fiancé. It felt so good using that word.

'And, I can't wait for you to be my husband.'

'I can't wait for you to be my wife.' he whispered in my ear, as I did the same with him.

_________________________

[downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le]

My Wonder (Spencer Reid x Reader) - The Meeting

My Wonder (Spencer Reid x Reader) - The Meeting Word Count: 1380 Reader insert: she/her pronouns. She is not American unless you are, just has a previous history in American law enforcement Warnings: none Spoilers: none

All his life, Dr. Spencer Reid has been told he is a genius - gifted, different. When you, a new member of the BAU, arrive, he expects the same weirded-out reaction from you as everyone does. But when you don't, and you instead find him interesting, Spencer finds himself forming an attachment to you. And as the years go on, is it really any wonder that he falls for you?

This is one of the six times you secretly say I love you to Spencer: your meeting.

Full story | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Spencer Reid was performing some of his physics magic for his colleagues when he first saw you.

He'd just mixed up the some water with an antacid tablet and placed within a film canister. He'd done it a hundred times on his own, but he'd only just joined the BAU two months ago, and JJ and Derek hadn't seen it before so he just had to do it. Quickly placing the lid on, he said, 'You can turn around now.'

'I don't understand why we had to in the first place,' Derek said as he grumpily turned around.

'A magician never tells his secrets,' Spencer said, rubbing his hands gleefully. To him, showing off his intellect never got boring. 

Well, show off wasn't the proper term. He understood that he could be a lot for some people, knowing so much for a man in his early twenties that looked barely old enough to be out of school, let alone with three Bachelors and PHDs under his belt already. Spouting little known facts or remembering minute details about cases that went back thirty to forty years was just his way of expressing himself. It was his way of contributing to the team. And while his team was getting used to his ramblings and intellect, even demonstrated admiration for it, others would call him a freak.

'If you ask me,' JJ said, 'I wouldn't want to know how he does some things.'

'Fair,' Derek replied, all their eyes on the film canister.

Spencer watched it in anticipation, how the bubbles slipped out between the lid and the canister slowly at first, then started bubbling faster and bigger and-

POP!

The canister rocketed up towards the roof, and all three of them watched with wide eyes as it arced over the bullpen and then down to meet the-

'Ow!'

Spencer ducked into his chair as he watched a young lady in a loose button up shirt, dress pants and boots pat her head. He heard JJ and Derek scurry away, but Spencer remained staring at the woman. Who is she? he thought, his eyes scanning over her.

Your (h/c) hair caught the sunlight, giving it a glow that had Spencer mesmerised. Your (s/c) skin shone with it, making your (e/c) eyes stand out most beautifully. And when you stood back up and made eye contact with him, canister in hand, he found himself frozen, unable to avoid the conclusion that he was the culprit.

'What is this, Reid?' Hotch said, walking up to his desk not looking the least bit impressed. 'Actually, don't answer that. Just don't do it again.'

'Sorry,' Spencer murmured out, a guilty smile stretching his lips slightly.

Hotch blew out a sigh. 'Never mind that now. I would like to introduce you to our new team member. Agent (Y/n) (L/n), a transfer from LA.'

Spencer finally realised that you had walked up with Hotch, and now that you were so close (literally standing a desk apart from one another), he was lost for words at how bright your smile was, and how beautiful you looked that way. 

'So you're the one that thought my head was a good landing place for your little... rocket,' you said offering the film canister back, laughter dancing in your words. 

It took Spencer a moment for him to realise you wanted him to take the canister back, so he scrambled to his feet, fingers fumbling for the canister. 'No, I-I was just showing how a-an antacid reacts with water, and how, put into a small, confined place, that can cause a chemical, gas-like reaction and cause it to exploded.'

'And launch it like a rocket?' you asked.

He paused as he watched your smile slip a little. Oh no. He'd done it again - made someone feel dumber than him. And while technically that was true, he never meant to make anyone feel like that. 

'Y-Yeah?' he answered, awkwardness rising up in his throat, freezing his limbs, his brain.

But then suddenly your smile returned, melting his fear and doubt as you said, 'Cool! I've always loved chemistry. I actually did a Bachelor of Science with a major in archaeological science and a minor in chemistry before I started my BA in Criminology.'

'And now you're here,' he said, a soft smile of his own tugging at his lips. 

You nodded, looking around what would now be your new home. 'And now I'm here.'

'Fascinating,' Spencer breathed out. He didn't mean to, but it made you smile more so he didn't mind. It suddenly occurred to him that he hadn't introduced himself. He struck out his arm, rigid as a board, and offered his hand. 'Sorry, I'm Dr. Spencer Reid.'

'Pleasure to meet you, doctor,' you said, taking his hand and shaking it firmly. You skin was as soft as it looked, Spencer noted. 'I very much look forward to working with you and the rest of the team as we go forward.'

'We've got a briefing in five minutes, Reid,' Hotch interrupted, moving to step away from the conversation. 'I'll introduce you to the rest of the team then, (L/n). And if I find you firing another film canister through the sky, Reid-'

'Yes, yes, sorry, no more rockets. Airspace Reid is officially grounded,' Spencer quickly replied, not wanting to get lectured like a twelve-year-old like he usually did.

Your tinkling laughter drew his attention back to you, and he was baffled by the wonderment dancing in your eyes as you looked at him. 'You are a wonder, Dr. Spencer Reid.'

'T-Thanks?' he replied, although he wasn't quite sure if you were making fun of him or not. Most people did if they didn't straight up tell him he was annoying.

Hotch walked away, but you remained for a moment, leaning in close to whisper, 'That's a good thing, by the way.'

'Oh. Right.' 

You flashed him one last smile before following your new unit chief, falling back into easy conversation with him as you gracefully floated through the chaotic goings of the office. Spencer couldn't take his eyes off you as you did, in awe of your grace and poise, and how you didn't even stumble when you spoke with him. You were genuine, upfront and honest. You couldn't be much older than himself, he noted, perhaps even younger. He was used to being the baby of the team, but it looked like that would be changing.

The prospect of being able to connect with someone his own age sent an unfamiliar but not unwelcome flutter through his heart.

'Oh, you've got it bad.'

Spencer spun in his chair to see JJ and Derek standing behind him once more, watching him with knowing grins. 

'What? What have I got?' he asked. 'I'm not sick... I don't think.'

JJ rolled her eyes and giggled as she walked away, Spencer just catching a quiet, 'This'll be fun,' as she did. But Derek walked closer, placing a firm hand on his shoulder, and that knowing grin stretched wider, more feline and cheeky. 

'Don't worry, pretty boy,' he said. 'You'll figure it out soon. You're smart, right?'

'Well, smart isn't really the quite term for someone with an eidetic memory and an IQ of 187-'

'And pep talk is over,' Derek interrupted, abruptly walking away back to his desk and leaving Spencer in a disarray of emotions.

So he looked back to where you had gone, and found you speaking with Penelope, nodding enthusiastically to whatever she was talking to you about. But you weren't just being polite, you appeared genuinely interested in the conversation, even though Spencer noted you barely contributed to it. 

'You are a wonder, Dr. Spencer Reid.'

All his life, Spencer had been told he was a genius - gifted, different. It had just become an effortless part of who he is. It was almost expected at this point to see weirded-out or overly-amazed expressions from people he didn't know. So why then, when you said that to him, did he feel happy about it?

He checked his watch. Almost briefing time. He got up from his seat and made his way to the briefing room where only a place beside you was available. Maybe he would find out soon enough.

[chaostudee]

kiss the girl- j.m

pairing : jj maybank x female reader summary : after finally coming to terms with his obessesion pope and john b urge him to just "kiss the girl" words : 2.1k warnings : none? a/n : first post on here, pls be kind. wanted to start off with my bby boy <3 feedback would be appreciated.

there was no doubt about the fact that jj maybank was head over heels for you. everyone knew it as he hadn't chosen to disguise his infatuation for you. the only person who was actually oblivious to this was you which seemed ludicrous to say the least since jj was practically drooling anytime he was in a close enough proximity to you.

over the course of the past two months you had been racing through his mind, truthfully the only thing on his mind.

at first when he felt the impulse to touch your hand or to feel his lips against yours he was disgusted in himself. not that having the chance in doing so would repulse him it was just that having known you since you were kids such thoughts didn't seem appropiate to even discuss with himself let alone with you. you were his best friend and he wouldn't want anything the destroy that. he wouldn't let anything destroy that. so keeping his feelings at bay seemed like the chosen option that would be beneficial to him in the long-term.

"dude you are so whipped" john b said as he tied the boat to the dock, struggling to tie a knot in the rope. up until he spoke jj hadn't been focusing on john b or pope nor their presence. his concern was elsewhere where you stood alongside kiara and sarah. he smiled to himself as the corners your mouth perked up at something one of the girls had said.

it wasn't just your smile that enticed him further but the way you held yourself, your hand laying by your side, presenting jj with the urge to do nothing more than to feel his fingers in yours.

"dude shut up so are you" jj scoffed as he turns back to the boys , running a hand through his dirty blonde hair before taking his cap and placing it on top of his fluffy mop sending a smirk over to john b. john b swiped his tongue to the corner of his mouth knowing that he could not further argue with that statement.

"he got you there man" pope chuckled as he came to rest his hand on the back of jj's back in approval.

john b had finally tied the boat to the key with much effort and to feed his satisfaction into his accomplishment he decided to pull out a beer from the cooler. thanks to jj the cooler was always full.

for July in the outer banks it was far more humid and the air much too dry than anticipated meaning that most days were spent lingering by the swamp. the only place where the air held some amount of moistness and the water cool against one's skin.

"so how are things with you and sarah?" pope asks to divert himself from the exclusion that he had tumbled into from the two boys. it wasn't that he was particularly interested in his response because by the looks of it john b was much alike jj. in love.

lowering the glass bottle from his lips john b flashes a small smile, staring off into the far distance. the smile that he showed was one that had been buried deep since the disappearance of his father. now it had come back there was a thesis that it was all sarah's doing. pope was glad of this and at that moment in time he knew that this girl was good for him and he good for her.

"i don't know man i think i love her" he pauses as he turns to look over at sarah, her blonde hair flying in the soft breeze, "she's just.....-".

"everything" jj blurts out as he too turns over to look at the girls. pope eyes jj up and down with his arms folded across his chest.

"yeah". john b agrees with this with a nod before taking another sip .

"guys are you hearing yourselves right now?" pope scoffs to himself as he watches the two practically transfixed with the two girls. sure he had a certain amount of liking towards kiara but at least he chose to be discrete about it.

"if you don't do something about your thing with y/n jj i swear to god-" pope warns jj and it seems that he is serious that he will be the one to confess jj's intimate feelings.

in surrender jj sets down his beer on the edge of the boat and raises his hands in the air. "fine, fine i'll do it tonight" he says, lowering his hands and once again picking up his beer he spots pope rather flabbergasted with his response, john b also.

"is that okay with you?" jj confirms with a smirk knowing that he had truly outsmarted pope which was shocking enough. pope just nods in agreement.

john b laughs to himself for a moment at pope's face of utter shock. it is not long before the three break out into bursts of laughter until they are joined by a few familiar faces. it seemed that the girls were bored without their male companionship.

the three girls boarded the boat, first sarah followed by kiara then you. now that six people resided on the watercraft it had started to become cramped. therefore sarah makes her way over to address her boyfriend.

"hey boys" sarah greeted with a small wave at jj and pope before landing a peck on john b's cheek leaving him "all starry-eyed and shit" according to jj.

jj had barely acknowledged sarah once he spotted you in a close proximity. there you stood your arm linked in kie's as you were in conversation with pope who was seemingly throwing eyes at her.

feeling rather rejected from the whole debacle you turn to see jj fiddling with the rings on his fingers, the numerous rings. just as he looks up he meets your eyes and you smile warmly at him. it was only a matter of seconds before he felt his heart rate increase and his mood escalate.

"hey y/n" jj says lifting up his hand to wave but it just lingers in the air for a moment as he realizes how cheesy it is. once that awkward tension had disintegrated a blush flashed upon his cheeks.

"okay you got to admit that was cute as fuck" kiara whispers into your ear and you could do nothing but agree with her. the golden boy could be indeed classified as cute.

truth be told now that you think about it there was something different that radiated off the maybank boy. it was something that you couldn't quite place your finger on.

deciding to allow jj the pleasure of being in your company you pull yourself from kiara's grasp, leaving her alone with pope. beside him there was an unoccupied space at the foot of the boat so you join him there.

"hey j" you say turning to him only to notice that his cheeks are still tarnished red. "hey" he replies, his voice coming out croaky. slowly pulling the beer bottle from his grasp you take a swig yourself before returning it back to him.

when you pushed it back in his direction for a sliver of a second your finger grazed against his own making you all warm and fuzzy inside, definitely something different that you would feel for him. out of impulse you pull your hand away quickly hoping that he didn't notice but that was near impossible since he had now engraved that moment in his mind.

"how are you?" he asks completely brushing off what had just occurred. you liked this in him, his ability to play it cool and seem so laid-back even though he lacked to show this earlier with that god awful wave. but it was cute.

"i'm good" you nod to yourself once again taking the bottle from him, keeping your hand far away enough from his own.

"you?" you ask. normally the conversation wouldn't be so dry or awkward but it was something that hung in the air, something left unsaid that triggered this.

sarah now came sauntering over, her own beer in hand, empty. "you guys wanna play spin the bottle?". you shrug and turn to jj to see his response. his heart, now pounding faster in his chest is telling him to say yes in the chance that it might happen. that he just might be able to kiss you even if its just for a stupid game.

"sure" jj nods getting up from his position, offering a hand to you. setting down the glass bottle you take his hand once again that feeling arises but this time you accept it and even perhaps enjoy it.

***

"okay so who wants to go first?" kiara asks rubbing her hands excitedly with one another. you wonder why she has such interest in this but then you remember all the flirtatious comments that pope had sent her way, and she didn't seem to dislike them.

the six of you sat in a circle around the infamous beer bottle in the middle that had once shared your lips and jj's. that idea left you to think to yourself....would jj kissing you be so bad?

each of you turn to look at one another waiting on somebody to volunteer their contribution. "i'll go" jj says his hand hovering over the glass in case someone else would allow him leave. his eyes went around the group yet no one gave in but you did notice john b grin widely at jj. strange.

with one flick of his wrist it starts spinning and the group anticipates the outcome. as it comes to a slow it finally comes to rest at your feet.

there is an awkward silence as you keep your eye contact with the ground rather than having to look him in the eye. its not that you don't want to kiss him per say but he's your friend and if you do this will it ever be the same? will you ever the feel the same? but honestly you don't have much of a choice.

slowly but surely you raise your eye line upwards to meet his. normally a situation like this would be nerve-wracking anyways but along with your friends as an audience it was on a whole other level. you now had the pressure of meeting not only meeting his standards but also that of the others.

"come on man kiss the girl" pope urges jj as it is clear that he is growing impatient, voicing the others' thoughts as well. jj gives pope a look as he is clearly planning to do just that.

jj moves closer towards you so now that the circle has become deformed. at this moment in time your hands begin to sweat, now all clammy, your cheeks are heated although luckily enough the sun has just set so it would be unlikely for anyone to notice.

jj, now closer than before leaves just an inch between his lips and your own. "are you sure?" he whispers, his warm breath fanning your face. it smells nice almost like vanilla.

someone coughs and you are now suddenly aware of the others and how awkward it all is.

you don't even answer his question, you don't need to. you move closer presenting him the opportunity to place his lips on yours, its not long before he grasps this moment. he sets his lips upon yours and then it happens, the feeling. its like the first spark hitting a bark of wood and its new and exciting and its all you could ever wish for. allowing yourself to sink deeper into the kiss just reminds you that it has toe end but his hand holding your chin makes up for it. he holds it like his most prized possession. you thought it would be weird but during this moment you wanted nothing more than to stay like this, but sooner or later reality punches back.

it is him who pulls away first which disappoints you but due to his expression you can tell that he is pleased with himself and what you had both just experienced. a tender kiss with your best friend. no, a tender kiss with someone whom you would not like to regard as your "friend" but something more?

"ya'll need to get a room" kiara says leaning back so that her back hits the edge of the boat. "i second that" pope says and john b and sarah both nod.

you laugh it off uncomfortably, jj the same. honestly you decided to drown out what the others were saying after that, knowing it was just going to be dirty ass jokes. all you really wanted to do was experience that feeling again with him, with jj. you wanted him, not as a friend. admitting it to yourself was the first step. jj maybank had made an impression on you and judging by the way his sapphire eyes latched onto yours he would be doing far much more than that.

[s1ater]

best player, best bet.

pairings. jj maybank x fem!reader

part four of four.

about. jj pays you one last visit.

warnings. swearing

ricky rocks. finally finished 🥳🥳🥳 this is also a THIRD repost, because it wouldn’t let me edit the last one 😢

you had won the best player award. jj had stepped down and you didn’t even have to fulfill your side of the deal.

there was a part of you that felt very guilty for not showing up for him, but another part of you that knew you deserved this and it probably didn’t effect jj as largely as you originally thought. ward probably had girls lined up for him and your absence was probably no surprise after what you had saw.

“i honest to god don’t believe you’ll need this many clothes,” rafe grumbles, helping you stuff a bag full of just your shirts. you glanced over to him, laughing to yourself as you packed another bag for your pants. “i mean c’mon, y/n, after the first week you’re not even going to have enough energy to change your pants.”

“whatever rafe,” you shook your head, “i actually care for personal hygiene and looking my best, unlike you—who i could smell the beer off of when you came home for break.”

“oh, boohoo, give me a break, sweetheart. some of us actually know how to have some fun,” he mocked you, setting the bag down before grabbing another. “big surprise, it’s not you.”

you roll your eyes. maybe asking rafe to help you pack for college was a mistake, especially since it wasn’t even twenty minutes in and he was shitting on you.

“hey, y/n/n! someone’s at the door for you!”

you got to your feet at the sound of your mothers words, sharing a look with rafe before you exit your room and toward the front door, “who is it..?”

your question fades the moment jj comes into view and suddenly your mouth is a steel trap in surprisal of the sight of him. you hadn’t expected to see jj after hockey season, not after all these months, but there he was with his hands stuffed in his jean jacket and a sheepish smile that made your stomach flutter.

“long time no see, hockey puck.”

“jj,” his name comes out breathless from your mouth like you had been winded, and it’s almost like you were. “come in?”

“that a question?”

“no,” you smile crookedly, motioning him further into the house. “just come in.”

he slowly strolls to your living room where you follow behind, expecting him to take a seat, but he only stops in the door frame, turning back to face you, “how are you doing, kid?”

“i should be asking you that.”

he scoffs, almost wincing at the tone of your voice and knowing exactly what you’re referring to, “listen, i didn’t come here to make small talk.”

“sounded like you were.”

“okay,” he sighs, already regretting coming to your home, kicking himself for thinking it’d be so easy to talk to you after all this time of distance and tension just waiting to fill the space between the two of you again. “are you happy?”

“what?” you narrow your brows at the question.

“are you happy?” he repeats, “the award ceremony shit—i’m happy for you, proud of you, really.”

you feel your face burn, suddenly looking to the floor at realization of what he was saying. you felt guilty as well as flattered at his kind words falling out of his mouth without a problem. he was being genuine, but something about it still made you feel… ashamed.

“you got what you worked hard for, y/n. should be proud yourself.”

“yeah…” you still stared at the ground, “thanks jj.”

“still disappointed you didn’t show up.”

there is was.

“i wanted to, you should know i did. but i couldn’t,” your eyes move fast to meet his, feeling remorse, but he doesn’t seem sad, or disappointed, or even mad when he looks back at you. it almost looks like he understands, like he doesn’t really care that much. “i would have socked that man in the face of i had to see him again.”

he laughs dryly, slightly shaking his head, “would have loved to see that.”

“probably best it didn’t happen. wouldn’t have wanted to ruin your chances at one of the perfect little colleges he has set up for you.”

“what have i told you before, kid?” his arms slight reach out from his sides in expression. “i’m set for life, no matter how hard i fuck up.”

you shake your head, thinking about how true it was. jj was hooked up way before hockey season even ended.

“when do you leave?” you mumble.

“tomorrow, actually,” he stuffs his hands in his pockets, not satisfied with the answer he gave you either. he just wished he had more time.

shit.

it’s silent now and your whole body feels itchy with uncomfortableness. jj’s eyes are tightly focused on the ground once more, his eyebrows furrowed as if he’s frustrated and having a mental battle with himself in thought.

you watch him carefully, but you want to look away in fear of him catching you shamelessly staring. your drawn to the confusion on his face, to every emotion that crosses his features. he’s almost red in the cheek from shame but you can’t understand why.

“you know, i remember when i first met you…” he laughs a little, cutting himself off. “oh god, the guys would talk about you all the time and how crazy it was that they let a girl on a team… and then i was like ‘hey… i know that girl.’”

“you had always wore those pink barrette things,” he motions to his blonde strands, “so i was shocked to see you kicking our asses that first game.”

“and the second.”

he scoffs, nodding, “and the second.”

you hate the space between the two of you right then. you hate how antsy he is and the way he moves only seems to put more distance between you.

“point is, i’m happy for you… and even if you’re not allowed… to play in college, i’m glad you got that scholarship. you deserve it, all of it.”

oh.

after getting the award and finishing out the season and school—your doubts were getting the best of you about getting a scholarship or even playing in college. like jj had said before, scouts were misogynistic and they weren’t going to change their opinions on girls playing a boys sport. not for any, not for one.

thankfully, colorado was your saving grace—handing you a scholarship, not exactly a spot on the team—but the promise of consideration when time gets there. which everyone really knew what that meant—no.

“thank you, jj,” your eyes fall to the ground. “it’s a shame that i’ll never be able to kick your ass again though,” you shake your head in disappointment, a loud hearty laugh ringing through your ears as jj throws his head back.

“yeah, you wish, sweetheart,” he shakes his head himself at the ridiculousness in your statement. “you’re good, but not that good.”

“yeah, you want to bet, maybank?” your head tips back in a challenging manner, arching a brow.

“give me a time and place, hockey puck, i’ll be there.”

navigation.

@aliyahsutherland @ohoki @multifandom-obsessed @remuslupinluvr @herejustforjj @gabiatthedisco @em-mae05 @brie-gr3y @cryinginsanity @rebbyr @morganwilliams @thecraziestcrayon @thomaslefteyebrow @imagines-r-s @cowboywrites @rejectedfan @myalupinblack @Barzysandmarnersbitch @cc13723things @millavalntyne @smartgirlhuh @sweeth0lland @fruitiseavey @ishwiya @Uselesssapphickitten @black-rose-29 @rrosecar @thedeadlythoughts @pradastardust @rudypankowisdaddy @sunsetcurving @i-love-scott-mccall @voiddtrinity @rottenstyx @ravi0liii @greengarsstuff @rowena-ravenclaws-diadem @dayanaralight @felixulvr @demigirl-with-problems @sunsetcurve-95 @hizziestial @popeheywardssecretgf @youdontlikethatdoyoucupcake @xivilivix @ritz-hell-hotel @fruitiseavey @love-marauders @colorfulpaperthing @strnqer @morganaah @stitch-flo @eichenhouseproperty @calums-betch @ancientimes @1Dcumslut @tenaciousperfectionunknown @bxbyyyjocelyn @thelaststraw3 @navyabhatnagar @iluvt4ylorswift @liltimmyst @falcvns @theresawtf @alexxavicry @simars3 @grxcisxhy-wp @esposadomd @rmeddar123 @lupinsluvbot

[kiaracarrera]

OBX Season 3 Ramblings and Thoughts: Part One:

So can we all collectively agree that Big John was kind of the worst and there was way too much screen time for him and not enough screen time of all the Pouges together? - I did love that the name ‘Big John’ actually fit though and not just in a sense of ‘big = dad’ because the height on Charles Halford alone was enough to make it seem like John B was actually a child and not a grown man playing a child.

I love this show with all my heart and soul but what makes it truely magic to me is the friendships and the togetherness and the found family elements. The lack of that this season really affected my personal viewing pleasure in a negative way.

As much as I loved seeing all the duo pairings this season I am so so annoyed that Kiara, Cleo, JJ and in particular Pope weren’t part of that finale El Dorado cave treasure hunt. I don’t even wanna talk about it because it makes me so annoyed. (I will totally talk about it with anyone that wants too though hahaha)

The emotional journey I went on with John B and Topper as individuals boy oh boy.

John B was my fave in season 1 and my least fave in season 2 and this season I both adored him and he irritated the absolute shit out me, overall I think as the leading character it’s hard not to root for John B but I think his storyline will be greatly improved having Big John out of the picture in Season 4.

Topper whyyyy. I actually fully stanned Topper for like 90% of this season and I have no shame in admitting it. He was ALWAYS down to help Sarah and in turn the Pouges and while some people may find his apprehension to break the law and get himself in near life or death situations frustrating, I personally found it relatable? I’d argue that the Pouges were worse to Topper than Topper was to the Pouges for most of this particular season and the way he was adamant he wasn’t going to get into a fight with John B at Mike and Anna’s anniversary party was hot idc what anyone has to say. Of course we can’t have nice things though so Topper had to fuck things up and burn shit to the ground - literally. Of all Topper’s questionably poor choices this one’s gotta be the one he can’t come back from. I think Austin North is superb as Topper but truthfully I would have payed good money to axe a quarter of the scenes he and Sarah shared and given them to Jiara instead.

Jiara season baby!! LOVED LOVED LOVED the build up of their story this season, it was expected but brilliant none the less. All the almost moments, the back and forth, the ‘I’m just a loser and you’ve got your whole future ahead of you’ angst of it all 😩. Then there’s the “Like I love you dude” - it wasn’t big or grand or showy but it was Kiara and it PERFECTION even if JJ’s reaction wasn’t what I personally would have wanted to see. THE KISSSSS. No words, other than I would have like JJ to be the one to say I love you first here but anyway let it be known that I’ve rewatched that scene too many times and ‘Hanging on the Telephone’ has been on repeat all day, thanks Soundcloud. Admittedly though the aftermath of the kiss was disappointing, with over an hour left of OBX we literally were given CRUMBS of them in that finale episode which was disappointing to say the least. I also have suspicions on where Jiara might be in season 4 with that time jump at the end of the season and the uh lack of interaction or affection between them but that’s a discussion for another day.

Speaking of the time jump - did it really need to be 18 months? Like 3 months great! 6 months fine, even like 8-9 months and I would have been like yeah okay 🤷🏽‍♀️ but 18 months!? A whole year and a half!? So much can happen in that time and that’s so much we’ve missed. Most notably the starting points of Jiara and Cleope!? What do you mean we don’t get to see where their relationship went after those monumental first kisses. I get a time jump because the actors are also aging up but 18 months just felt like too much. I’m interested to see what happens in season 4 at least.

In other shipper news Cleope - loved them. So sweet and Cleo is an absolute queen. Easily one of my favourite characters this season and I really enjoyed the journey her and Pope took and in particular Cleo’s relationship with The Hayward’s as a whole. What a beautiful addition to this show.

Did somebody say toxic? Oh wait it’s just John B and Sarah. I’m sorry, I know this is such a popular ship but I just absolutely cannot with them anymore. I have been so neutral on them over the past two seasons but between Sarah’s cheating and John B’s serious anger issues, at this point I surely can’t be the only one who thinks they both (John B in particular) need time to heal on their own before they come back together (and I mean like at least three quarters of a season broken up not just three episodes). I don’t know, obviously it’s been 18 months and they own a surf shop now and they’re both free of their bad dads so maybe things will be different in season 4 but I have VERY low exceptions.

Sarah’s understandably coping a bit of flack this season but I fall more neutral on my opinion on her this season. In season one she was my least favourite and in season two it was the opposite, this season my opinion on her falls somewhere in the middle. I did love that we got to see more of her friendships with the other Pouges outside of John B though! Another reason why I think it would be beneficial for her character to not be tied to John B’s permanently going forward. Sarah and Kiara’s friendship is always a highlight for me.

Putting this all the way down here at the bottom where people might not see because I’m low key ashamed… but RAFE 🤤 I’m sorrrry he’s just so freaking fine. Well at least until he opens his mouth or you know, moves 😅. I’ve seen a bit of a Rafe/Kiara rise with the new season releasing and look, I’m not judging because their shared scenes this season showed some major chemistry but in the name of all things good and well I’m going to stay strong and say our good sis Kiara deserves way better than to ever be pulled into any storyline that involves Rafe Cameron as a love interest. A friend? Maybe, potentially, I mean for someone who swore he was going to be coming for Kiara he did approximately nothing to fulfil that - which is exactly what good enemies to friends stories are made of, but as a romantic interest I’m going to pass thanks. I’ll stick to nurturing the potential that Jiara has.

Lastly bye bye Ward Cameron. It was fun knowing you truely! What a brilliant villain.

If I didn’t totally bore you and you made it this far please let me know what your fave and least fave moments of this season were and/or who your fave and least fave characters have been!! Would love to chat to you guys about this show 🥰🥰🥰

[crazyunsexycool]

Is it a Crime?

Chapter 2

Pairing: Mob boss Bucky Barnes x Mob boss Reader

Word count: 4.9k

Warnings: Angst, a little teeny tiny bit of fluff, mentions of blood and physical attack on a person, injury to the face and description of a scar, as always if I missed something let me know.

A/N: I literally could not stop writing this chapter. We finally get to see who the mystery date and who the fiancée is. The reader is called mi nina which is spanish for my girl. This fic is inspired by this song which I think kind of fits into the first let me know what you think!!

Series Masterlist

Ch. 1

“Hi Bucky, congratulations on your engagement.” 

The look he sent your way when he heard you congratulate him was enough to stop you in your tracks, it was full of hurt and remorse. His breath was caught in his throat at the sight of you. 10 years of wondering, of trying but failing to find you. It was never supposed to end up like this. He wasn’t supposed to reunite with you after 10 years of missing you with another woman on his arm. Not when you showed up looking more beautiful than he remembered. Bucky would be lying if he said that his heart wasn’t about to beat out of his chest, having you look at him the way you were. 

But there was a sadness shared between the two of you. The longer you stared at each other the more it felt like everything around you faded. No music, no conversations or chairs scraping against the floor as people moved around. It was just the two of you, no one else mattered. No one else would ever matter. You noticed how his hand balled into a fist, restraining himself from reaching out and touching you. His jaw tense as his eyes roamed your figure. You couldn’t help but do the same, he was pure muscle now, even under his black suit you could tell. Change had been inevitable but you were supposed to grow and change side by side, that was always the plan. The uncertainty between you was palpable, the question you both had in mind stayed unanswered. Was everything between you the same? But it couldn’t be, not anymore. Not when the girl that loved him so fiercely changed so much, just as he had.

The hand wrapped around his arm brought you back to reality and it was the first time you had really noticed her. The woman he was going to marry. In an off white dress, blonde hair curled and pinned back. She had a pearl necklace with matching earrings, she looked too innocent for this lifestyle and maybe you thought that it was what Bucky wanted now. But then the ring on her left ring finger told you everything you needed to know. 

He didn’t want to marry her. It was probably part of a deal his father had made. The ring was too big, too flashy and impersonal as if it was picked out of a catalog without much care. Most importantly the ring wasn’t his grandmother’s. He had let it slip once a long time ago, when he proposed it would be with his grandmother’s ring. Your eyes snapped from her ring to his eyes again, and he had followed the movement. Now he knew you were aware of it and he averted his eyes before taking a deep breath.

“How rude of me.” You say trying to compose yourself. “Bucky, I want you to meet my date, JJ.” 

His eyes move to the man next to you. He knew that name but he hadn’t even thought about it in years. The man he was always wary of, thinking he would swoop in and take you away from him. It seemed like his fear had come true.

“My name is actually Jake. It’s great to finally meet you. This one here wouldn’t shu- uff.” You elbow him to get him to shut up.

“Hi Jake. I’m Dot, Bucky’s fiancée.” Her voice was sickly sweet and high pitched, it annoyed you. She turns to you with the biggest fake smile she can muster. “And who might you be?” 

“This is Y/N.” Bucky informs her. Dot’s smile vanishes, she knew about you but how much was the question. 

“Nice to meet you Dot and Congratulations.” You smile at her. “I’ll see you around Barnes.” 

Jake steps back to allow you to go ahead of him, he follows you to a corner of the bar where you order drinks for both of you. Once the bartender places the drinks down you grab yours but you fight the urge down it in one gulp. Instead you turn to look at the crowd. Instantly you find familiar faces looking at you. Steve is the first person you make eye contact with, an incredulous look on his face. He looked good, he was taller and stronger now, by the research you had he was Bucky’s right hand. He was a good choice, it’s who you would have chosen. You saw some of the others, the next generation also looking your way. You raise your glass before taking a sip as you continue to survey the crowd.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like shit just got real.”

“But you’re not alone, we’ve got your back.” 

“I know Jensen, but still they were my friends for a long time. Hopefully they won’t stand in the way.” You finish your drink and turn to order another. 

“Maybe they’ll join you.” He says with a hopeful tone in his voice. Jake pushes his glasses up his nose. As he takes a turn looking around as you both stand in silence. 

“When we have a moment we have got to talk about Dot.” He whispers. 

Which makes you laugh, “fuck yeah we do.” 

“Oh shit, I think he’s angry.”

“Who is?”

“Your man, who hasn’t taken his eyes off of you by the way, probably because I made you laugh.” 

“He isn’t my man, not anymore.” you mumble the last part. 

“If you asked him to, I bet he would leave everything behind and follow you to the ends of the earth.” Jake turns back around and raises his hand toward the bartender, motioning for a refill.

“Y/N, sweetheart is that really you?”

 Your eyes close as the voice reaches your ears. You knew this would be inevitable. So you turn around with a smile. “Mrs. Barnes. How have you been?” 

“Much better now that I have you in front of me.” She moves towards you but you take a step back. She stops, a mix of emotions pass over her but mostly you see she’s hurt. She doesn’t know how much you need a hug from her, she has always treated you like one of her own. But with what you’ve come to do it’s better to keep her at arms length, for her safety. 

“You look lovely, I’m glad to see you’re doing well and that you have someone,” she looks over at Jake curiously. “To take care of you.” 

“Yeah, JJ here has my back.” You look over her shoulder, Dot seems upset as she stares at Mrs. Barnes. Maybe she didn’t like Mrs. Barnes talking to you and that made you smile. “Seems like the bride-to-be is waiting for you.” 

She scoffs, “that ditzy little girl.” She stops herself and sighs. “She isn’t you and never will be.” She reaches her hand out which you do take. “You know where to find me.” 

You give her a curt nod before she turns and heads towards Bucky and Dot. 

“I like her.” Jake says.

“Me too.” You look over at him. “Jake, did you seriously take a whole tray of food? Jesus where does it all go?” 

He taps his head. “I need it to fuel this beautiful mind you love so much.” He grins before holding the tray out towards you. 

“You’re an idiot.” You tell him as you grab something off the tray and pop it in your mouth.

“I’m your idiot.”

 You laugh again as you shake your head, you wouldn’t change your friendship with the big doofus for the world. When you ran into him, you had already been on your own for three years. There was no one you could trust, Alex had sent people after you and you found yourself running constantly. After a close call where you found yourself hurt you literally ran into him. Jake saved you that night and he vouched for you with his group, the losers they called themselves. He knew what happened to your father, his family left the Boston home the minute they heard fearing for their lives. Shortly after that he put his computer skills to use, getting the attention of the team’s leader Clay. You gained their trust and when you were sure of what you wanted to do you told them your plan. They had mostly been doing small jobs here and there, but you guaranteed them more money and somewhere they could settle down if they helped, they agreed. 

The first step to the plan was a success, it had people talking about you. Exactly what you wanted, you wanted him to know you were back. As you made your way around the party, avoiding the more important families, that reunion was for a different day, you would let it slip that you were staying permanently. All so that it would get back to him.  After the time you gave yourself to be there was up, you left quietly with Jake beside you. He made sure to let you know that those steel blue eyes never lost sight of you.

“We found her.” you heard from the hallway outside of your home office. Looking up from the files you had laid out on the desk to find Gamora leaning against the doorframe. 

Gamora was part of the guardians when you met her. They were a small crew just like the losers and just as good. It took some time but after working together for a bit both groups started to get along, it was with them that you finally had everything you needed to get back to New York. They knew what you had promised the losers and they didn’t expect any less and you promised just that.  They however liked to be on the road, they would be your enforcers and would work with the out of state deals you had. They were just waiting for you to take over to start moving their products into New York. They all had skills you needed in order to take down Hydra. T 

he organization that had taken over your territory. Gamora was good at tracking people, how she did it you would never know but she was the best in the business. So her news made you smile.

“Where is she?” 

“She’ll be here in 10 minutes.” 

“Thank you.” The smile you gave her was genuine, something she knew was rare and she mirrored it before leaving. 

You got to your feet and started cleaning up your desk, you thought that there would be more time to prepare mentally but now was as good a time as any. Once you had made the plan with your people Jake searched a list of names for you and on the top of the list was her.

“Hey boss, your guest is here.” 

“Thanks Peter, can you bring her back here?”  he nods and disappears down the hall.

Closing your eyes you take a deep breath. 

“Y/N?” The voice was older now but still familiar. 

“Rosie.” you said in a shaky breath and rushed towards her open arms. Silent tears rolled down your cheeks as you allowed yourself this one moment to let yourself feel all those emotions you had locked away. 

“Let me look at you, mi niña.” she pulled back at arms length, her hands framed your face as she really looked at you. “I can’t believe you’re here. For the longest time I thought the worst had happened to you.”

“Come here, sit.” you motion for the couch against the wall, directly across the door. “I was so worried about you. I wanted to call you, I really did but I was scared they would try to hurt you. I didn’t know they would try anything anyway. I’m sorry.”

“Mi niña, this wasn’t your fault. I knew what I signed up for when I took that job all those years ago.” 

You took in her features, she had always been so beautiful. That accent from the Caribbean was subtle but still there and it was very noticeable if she was angry. Now she’s obviously older, gray hair intertwined within her long black hair, her hands starting to show some wrinkles. She was still beautiful even with what Rumlow did to her. The scar that ran from just below her left eyebrow, barely missing her eye, all the way through her cheek and down to her chin. It was deep and jagged. Made in a way that no matter who stitched it up the scar would always remain. It was punishment for not betraying you or your father. Alex had sent men into her home to try and hurt her and her family, which they weren’t able to do. But they didn’t know Rosie like you did, she was one hell of a fighter and she didn’t let any of them lay a hand on her. Alex sent Rumlow the next night to leave the scar instead. Then for fun he dragged her out of her home almost naked and bleeding out, leaving her in the middle of nowhere just as a snowstorm hit. It was a miracle she even survived that. From that moment she had issues with keeping a job, everyone knew who gave her the scar and they would let her go in fear of retaliation. So you knew financially she was struggling again.

“Still, how they attacked you. It wasn’t right.” 

“Forgive and forget.” She took your hand in hers. “Tell me why are you here? Aren’t you scared he’ll find out?”

“Rosie, I’m going to do the opposite of what you just said. I'm here to make him pay and to take back what’s mine. It’s one of the reasons I wanted to find you.” 

“I’m not going to get involved, I’m too old for that. I’ll give you some tips though.” She laughs. 

“No, Rosie I got that covered.” You hesitate for a moment. “I want you to come work here, for me. There are only so many people I can trust and you’re one of them.”

“Oh sweet child, I don’t know.”

“If you’re concerned for Gabe, don't be. I know he got accepted into Stanford, I can have him on a plane in 12 hours with a place to stay by the time he gets there. I’ll even cover tuition, which was the reason he wouldn’t be able to go in the first place right?” 

“I can’t accept that, it’s too much money. How could you even afford it?”

“Rosie, you were like a mother to me after I lost my own. You were there when even my own father wasn’t and Gabriel is like a little brother. If he goes to California he’ll be safe and I have associates over there that can get to him if needed. I can take care of him financially while he’s out there. As for you, there is a room here ready for you. I want you by my side.”

“Because you’re scared they’ll come after me again?” she raised an eyebrow at you. 

“Because I want you close and yes I want to make sure you’re safe. You don’t even have to do much and you can yell at the guys as much as you want, especially Peter.” 

She takes a deep breath as she considers your offer. You know it’s not an easy choice but it’s the safest option. 

“Ok, I’ll do it. I’ll work for you mi niña.” She smiles. “I can’t wait to tell Gabriel, he’ll be so excited.” 

You hug her. “Thank you Rosie, you don’t know how happy this makes me.”  You smile at her. “I’ll have JJ setup Gabes flight and apartment while Peter and Drax take you back to your place. They’re going to stay with you while you pack what you need. Then you’ll go with them to take Gabe to the airport ok?” 

“You are just like your mother.” She pats your cheek lovingly.

“What?” 

“Sweet child, who do you think ran the business, your father?” She chuckles at your confused expression. “When I come back I’ll show you some things I managed to save that belonged to her.” She gets up with you following close behind her. 

You tell everyone what to do before pulling Jake aside.

“What’s up boss?”

“JJ I need you to pull any information you can on my mother.”

“Are you looking for something in particular?” 

“I don’t know yet, just do a general search and see where it leads you.”

“I’ll let you know what I find.” He smiles down at you.

“Thank you.” 

The neutral zone, where anyone from the families that needed to negotiate would go.No guns, no fighting just talking. It’s where negotiations happened, where tuff wars ended. It hadn’t changed at all, the awning was still a faded burgundy, Vinnie’s was still printed on it in gold letters and the color of the brick was still fading. Through the glass door and matching windows on either side you could see the ‘public’ seating area was empty except for some of their guards which meant the meeting had already started. You knew it would happen, they would meet to discuss you just as you knew they would. This was your chance to tell them why you were back, to warn them of the war that was going to break out. It was their chance to step aside because you weren’t going to back down. 

“Want me to go in with you?” 

“No, I'm good Pooch. Keep the car running. I don't think this is going to take long.” You look at the restaurant again, was it possible to feel nostalgic about a place where you talked about criminal activity in your teenage years? Apparently so. 

Your door opens, allowing you to step out and cross the street with Nebula and Aisha trailing behind you. Aisha reaches for the door, as multiple eyes are on you immediately. There were a lot of newer faces and it took a moment for them to realize who you were but you paid them no mind. Your destination was in the back, past the bathrooms and behind the kitchen.  A door hidden in plain sight. 

“Stay here.” you say over your shoulder to the women who accompanied you. Considering how much time you spent here in your teenage years you had never really looked at the dining area. It was all black and white photographs and vintage decor, something that was supposed to resemble old Italy. The table purposefully looked worn down and the table cloths were mismatched. As you walk further into the restaurant you hear the faint sound of a radio in the manager’s office before walking into the kitchen. You give the cooks a curt nod before walking past them and heading to the door that leads to the meeting room. The conversation is all over the place as you open the door still hidden behind a curtain, they don’t know you’re there. But you are the topic of conversation. 

“Has anyone talked to her?” said one person, before the questions kept coming.

“Where is she staying?” 

“Why is she even back?” 

“I’m glad you asked Tony.” You said as you pushed the curtain to the side. 

The silence that fell over the room as all eyes fell on you was somehow comical. You closed the distance between yourself and Tony who had been pouring himself a drink and took the glass from his hand. 

“Thanks.” you say as you wink at him. They all followed your every move as you walked over to the table and sat in one of the last few available chairs. Right across from Bucky. You settle into your seat, completely relaxed as you know what’s going to happen next. 

You looked around and everyone was still there. Bucky and Steve along with Nat and her younger sister Yelena. Tony and his wife Pepper. Sam and Sarah who seemed happy to see you with her own eyes. But you were curious as to the newcomers at the end of the table. Of course you knew who they were, the Maximoff twins. Very well known in Europe and it seems they were doing business here too. The most powerful families of New York and the east coast were all represented here. It had taken generations for all of them to get along. Everyone in this room would go as far as calling each other friends. Tuff wars didn’t really happen anymore unless it was an outsider trying to take over and of course the occasional lower level members that wanted to get their boss’ attention. They usually didn’t last long. 

“Are you just going to sit there or do you want to enlighten the class?” Tony asks from his spot still by the bar. 

“Tony I’m surprised that no one has tried to kill you yet considering how annoying you still are.” you say jokingly.

“Says you sister, I’ve had 3 guns pointed to my head on separate occasions this month alone.” 

“Two of them were Bucky.” Steve adds from the other side of the table earning a laugh from everyone. They didn’t always see eye to eye but Bucky and Tony could work together when they had to.

“But really why are you here? Are the rumors true?” The question came from Nat this time. The eldest of the Romanoff’s, she was calculating and ruthless when needed. 

“What does the rumor mill say?” you ask back.

“That you’re back permanently. Who’s territory are you in?” 

“I’m on neutral ground for now. As for the rumors, they’re true.” 

Glances are exchanged among them, uncertainty in their eyes at  the prospect of you being back. There was always tension. It was part of this life but it was worse with Hydra being active. 

“Why?” The question came from Yelena who was sitting next to Bucky, you looked at her before your eyes flickered to Bucky for just a moment. You wanted to see if you could read him but his expression made it difficult to do so. 

“It’s simple Lena. I’m going to take down Alexander Pierce.” you said. 

“By yourself, can you even do that?” One of the Maximoff twins spoke up.

“Yes Pietro, I can do that and I will.” 

“Then why did you come here?” Pepper asked from her seat by Tony, usually she handled the legal side of the businesses but every once in a while she would show up to these meetings. 

“Because I came to warn you.”

“Warn us?” Yelena speaks up again. 

“Yes, It’s going to get really ugly and even though it’s been 10 years since we’ve seen each other I don’t wish anything bad to happen to any of you. So this is your warning, I’m not going to back down until all of hydra burns. I just don’t want to see any of you stuck in the middle and burn along with them.” 

Nat was on her feet quickly, her hands flat on the table as she leaned slightly toward you. Her eyes narrowed in your direction. “Are you threatening us? Because if you are I-”

“I don’t  make empty threats Natasha.” You cut her off as you stand and mirror her stance. “I am letting you know as a courtesy, for the fact that we were friends at some point. I am going to end them no matter who stands in my way or tries to stop me. I am done running and Pierce is going to pay for everything he’s done.” 

The room was quiet again but this time the tension was thick. There was no room left for doubt of what your intentions were. Even back when you were still in the city, working alongside your father, training to take over his position no one had ever seen you this angry or determined. After a moment of silence Tony speaks up again.

“If you want our help we can’t.”

“Did you hear me ask for your help? No, because I came prepared to do this myself. I didn’t come back on a whim, I’ve been waiting and planning for 10 years.” you give him a pointed look before standing up straight. 

“When do you plan on making your first move?” Wanda asks. You only shrug in response, you weren’t going to give them the details. 

Tony sighs from his place before standing up, his hand stretched out for Pepper to take. “I guess we should get ready for the hell you’re going to unleash. Good luck sister.”

You give him a curt nod before he disappears. Nat, Yelena and the Maximoffs following suit. The only one’s left were Steve, Bucky, Sarah and Sam who hadn’t spoken since you told them what you were going to do. Steve moves around the table and brings you into his chest for a hug. 

“I’m here for whatever you need.” He whispers in your ear as he slips what you assume is a business card into your hand. He smiles at you as he heads towards the door. Sam and Sarah are right behind him, each of them hugging you tightly. They were one of the reasons you were alive and you owed them that. Still they had offered their help, whatever you needed they would be there for you. They head to the door and are right behind them until you hear someone clearing their throat. You look over your shoulder to find Bucky leaning against the table with his fingers intertwined and resting on his lap. 

You realized it was just the two of you as the soft click of the door closing could be heard in the now empty room. So you turn to look at him. Eventually you wanted to talk to him alone, but not now. Not days after his engagement party, and certainly not at the beginning of what’s going to be a difficult few months. You couldn’t afford a distraction. He stands up straight, the movement taking you out of your thoughts. With every step it feels like the air is being knocked out of you until you’re standing face to face with him.

You look up at him, to find him with the smile he only gave you and after years of being apart it still gives you butterflies. 

“Hey.”  He says.

“Hi.” You whisper back. Afraid to break this little bubble that you have. He presses his forehead to yours as his eyes close. His hands find yours. For the first time you notice he’s wearing gloves but you can’t really focus on that. Not when he’s finally so close.

“I have missed you so much.” He confesses.

“Me too.” 

You move to rest your forehead against his chest. Bucky instinctively rests his chin on top of your head as his arms finally wrap around you. The same way he used to when you were in school. Surrounding you completely trying to protect you from the world.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” He breaks the silence as he pulls back to look at you.

“I don’t have to do what?” You look at him confused. 

“This whole taking down hydra. It’s reckless and you don’t have to put yourself in danger, you can just live here. Move into my territory, I'll protect you.” 

You scoff at that while pulling away from as if his touch suddenly burned. “Are you kidding me?” You start pacing. “After everything he took from me. He’s the reason I had to look over my shoulder all the time.” 

Bucky reaches out to stop you. “Y/N, it’s dangerous and if he wanted you dead he would have made a move already. You don’t have to start a war.” Everything he said was just out of concern for your safety, logically speaking you knew where he was coming from. He didn’t want to see you hurt or worse. But somehow being told to back down made you furious.

“You don’t get it.” You say as you search for some kind of understanding in his eyes. “Do you know what it feels like to lose everything in one night?” 

“I lost you.” 

You let out a humorless chuckle as you shake your head. “You still had Winnie and Becca. Your home. And you had all of our friends by your side. I had nothing.”

“Bug I ju-”

“Don’t. I’m not your concern anymore.” You say over your shoulder as you start to move towards the door.

“You’ll always be my concern.” 

“Tell Dot I said hi.” You say bitterly before leaving the room, hearing him curse under his breath.

You don’t wait for him, instead you move quickly toward the front of the restaurant. To your surprise you hear Steve talking with Aisha and Nebula, who all turn toward the hallway at the sound of your rushed footsteps. 

“Y/N is everything alright?” You hear Steve ask but you choose to ignore him, because the truth was that nothing was alright. As you push the door open you hear Aisha and Nebula behind you.

“What happened?” Nebula asks once you begin to cross the street.

Just as you get in the car the door to Vinnie’s opens again revealing Bucky with Steve right behind him. You look at each other for just a moment before he starts walking towards you. That feeling of loss is somehow stronger now even though you’re just a few feet away from each other. 

“I’ll tell you later. Let’s go Pooch.” You say as you turn your attention forward. 

Leaving Bucky in the middle of the road to stare at the back of the car.

Ch. 3

series taglist:  @snufflet @impala1967666 @justlovelifeblog

Permanent taglist: @kunaikunari @rebekahdawkins @cjand10 @nalny5 @oliviafc15 @Sturchling @angywritesstuff

[thecameronchronicles]

Foster Part 2

TW: slight angst. Language. 

SUMMARY: Your arrival in the Outer Banks doesn't go as expected…in more ways than

WORD COUNT: 1100

*ORIGINAL CONCEPT*

The Foster Part 2

"Hey!" A voice booming, suddenly forced you awake along with the grip around your wrist. 

"Thanks for the ride..." John B teased as you realized you had been uncovered for not having a viable ticket. Pushing through the crowd gathered to collect their loved ones, you were torn beyond the unfamiliar faces before finding refuge in an alcove between two businesses. His body pressed against you just as before. Only now without the tension of uncertainty. 

"Bree?" A slightly accented tone brought your eyes to witness an attractive surfer extinguishing a cigarette once making eye contact to John B. It was only once noticing the incoming side-bro-hug that you made this connection. 

"Guess you came back the same way you left, huh?"

"Only this time, I'm not going back."

"Gotta say, Pope said that they wouldn't get you out of town, let alone out of the state, we had a bet on it...Kiara explained it was only because of the fact you were born in-" He paused, eyes widening when realizing you were not some tourist in passing. 

"JJ..." John B summoned his friend's focus. 

"I knew you were a smooth operator man, but you weren't even gone a week-"

You offered your name, explaining that you had come of your own vindication. 

"Actually, she blackmailed me-"

"I like you already..." JJ grinned. "Pope is gonna lose his shit to know you brought a girl back-"

"It's not like that-" You and John B spoke in unison.

"See, already finishing each other's sentences..." JJ set a hand to his chest, his dramatics unappreciated by both you and John B. Ultimately, the moment came to an end as JJ led the way to a more secluded part of The Outer Banks with water set to the west and a run down cabin-type residence to the right. 

"The Chateau..." John B explained. 

"Make yourself at home...we have..." JJ set himself on the couch, legs spread across an effortlessly beautiful girl as she cast him an expression of annoyed disgust until noticing you. 

"Um...hi..." She scowled at John B. Her skeptic chocolate irises widened to him before ultimately narrowing to you. The way she kneed the bookworm too focused on the pages of The Odyssey to notice your arrival had been enough of an understanding that she was "marking her territory". 

"She is the only reason I got back here so you guys can at least say hi." He directed his words towards her, who gave a half eye roll. 

"Who is she?"

"John B's new girlfriend. They even finish each other's sentences..." JJ teased. 

"She happened to be going this way too...that's all. But make her comfortable and stop acting like being nice to her will make you sick or something-"

"You DO realize that being here, they're gonna look here first." The soft spoken among them explained.

"We'll deal with that when it comes. We have a...other stuff to focus on..." He spoke in some kind of code as this brought the more reserved "pogue" to his feet. 

"Did you tell her?!"

"No."

"Tell me what?" You inquired before everyone began to look at one another before ultimately looking at you. 

"About the Kooks. Pains in the ass... They're so obsessed with us, they never leave us alone…"

"Yeah...I heard..." You explained, unaware just how JJ had directed the conversation to such a vast contrast to the truth. A truth you couldn't possibly have known as it was too outlandish to comprehend. Relief came over the face of his friends before he moved to his feet. 

"I think you need a proper tour of OBX. I'd have our trusted homeboy give it to ya, but anyone sees him and...well...he'd be sent back to where you came from...where did you come from?"

"Enough with the interrogation, JJ..."

"Just curious." He shrugged, flipping his lighter between his fingers, an obvious tick. 

"Kitchen. Bathroom. Bedroom. There. Done." John B spoke somehow charmingly, an arrogant smirk drawing your eyes to his lips before you noticed one door he hadn't described. 

"And that one?"

"My dad's office..." The atmosphere suddenly turned somber. Almost sour. 

"Anyway...I say we celebrate my return...fire tonight?" Smiles returned to his friends. 

"I'll get the supplies. Coming, Kie?"

"Oh, so you mean you're stealing them..." Kiara narrowed her eyes. 

"Charity. The JJ Maybank need to party charity. A worthy cause. Keeps me out of trouble but gets the girls of the Outer Banks something to-" Kiara pinched his arm and pulled him from The Chateau as "Pope", a name you only knew from the conversation, explained he'd make sure they didn't kill each other. Once again, you were left alone with John B. 

"So was your dad a spy or something?" He ran his hand nervously through his hair as you spoke. 

"No he's uh...he's missing."

"Oh shit...I didn't..."

"You'll learn soon enough. At least it was more exciting than just some deadbeat..."

"Oh?" 

"He got uh...lost at sea actually." You looked at him unsure how to respond. Having only known him less than twenty-four hours, you weren't sure if he was pulling some proverbial chain with this attempt at dark humor. But with the sincerity in his face, you found it to be his truth. 

"Wow..."

"Yeah. Anyway...that's why I was in the system...What about you?" You hesitated, not wanting to offer more than the basics as you didn't want to be some little sob story. 

"Same..." His brows raised. .

"Didn't realize it was a common occurrence these days."

"I just meant they aren't around." He held his hands up to surrender. 

"I get it. You don't want to tell me. That's fine...But we definitely need to get you out of those clothes." Your eyes widened in more humor than the horror that rose behind his. 

"I mean you'll draw too much attention." You covered quickly, the blush on his tan cheeks visible from anywhere in the Outer Banks from now. 

"I'm sure Kie has something you can wear..." He left you to survey the space around you, a littered scene of half consumed beer bottles and evidence of marijuana. Somehow both you knew were left by JJ. But each pogue left something set within The Chateau. Pope left behind his book and a bag concealing the same literary accompaniments, where Kiara left a sweater and a bracelet. All identifiable, even in the short introductions, or lack thereof, you came to know.

"Here..." John B returned, a tank and shorts over his arm. 

"I think she might mind..."

"Nah, Kie's cool. " 

"More like frigid" , You thought to yourself. 

"She just takes a bit to trust ya, is all. But I'm sure you'll be friends in no time. But I guess that depends how long you're staying." You paused, having only thought of getting here, not remaining. 

"Oh umm...just going with the flow I guess."

"Lucky for you, that's what pogues do best...." 

A few hours later, you found yourself nursing a warm beer, watching how everyone welcomed John B back as if he'd returned from some grand award. An apparent silent rule of keeping his presence quiet among them. 

"Why the hell is she here?" Kiara grunted as a beautiful blonde made her way from the shadows and to the fire. 

"Who's that?" You asked JJ, the only pogue who seemed to actually find comfort in your presence. 

"That's the kook princess, Sarah Cameron-" Your heart stopped. 

Cameron.

 The reason you were here, walking towards you, completely unaware of just why.

TAGLIST: @hopebaker @drewspisces @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4tangerine @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @camilynn @sweetestdesire @onmykneesforrafe @jjmaybanksangel @phildunphyisadilf @mashdan0916

MASTERLIST

JOHN B ROUTLEDGE MASTERLIST

THE FOSTER MASTERLIST 

MARCH MADNESS MASTERLIST

[odnson]

Please, tell me more about literally all of the wips! What's cooking!

lmao oh gosh, what i have rn are like, very vague ideas and the docs are just full of lines that lead nowhere but….👀

1. jwds mafia

Before this, Joowon had only seen pictures. Dozens of them, featuring different angles and expressions, showcasing his subject in various types of clothing. Often alone, sometimes with his trusted confidante, but never with family.

Now, in the flesh, the first thing that Joowon notices is the slouch. Too relaxed and borderline lazy, and something he unconsciously frowns at.

literally what the filename says 😂😂😂 funny thing is tho, i have an ending for this and a beginning, but i completely have no idea how to stitch them together because all i have are vibes. just sth sth about jw infiltrating a rival clan to help hkh’s rise to power (pretty much the same with his motives in the show originally), going undercover but being busted from day one because lbr, he’s up against ds. but ds is weak to pretty men (canon) and lets jw do what he wants for a while, etc etc. this def revolves around the “love for jw but revenge for ds” premise, only that because i’m me, it doesn’t stay that way for ds ofc. it does, however, get messier and messier, and i cannot go into too many details without spoiling it but!!!! someday i wish to finish this, like, fr.

2. jwds5+1????

Manyang offering him a seat at a table full of people he’d antagonized more than once remains a strange phenomenon to his eyes, but sitting beside Lee Dongsik and letting his warm smile soothe him isn’t.

i got the idea for this while otw to work so hopefully i can finish this in a few days?? pretty excited about this tbh, but it’s essentially about jwds gatekeeping the other from ppl because they’re actually a little too insane for one another, as we all know!!! (the show canon is just too good, really) i think this will be my attempt to be funnier but who knows, maybe this will turn into something else entirely? again, all i have are vibes as of the moment. 🙃

3. jwdsjj

A question now sits in Jeongje’s eyes the longer Dongsik looks at him. Dongsik wonders if he’ll ask.

Then, slowly: “How’s Han Joowon?”

Dongsik blinks, caught off-guard. He thought of a number of questions Jeongje would have for him, the millions of ways he could’ve phrased what he truly wanted to know: what is Dongsik doing here?

But this—Dongsik has to admit that he didn’t foresee this.

The name sparks warmth in him, as it often does. Underneath that blanket of fondness and security is something that burns savagely, and Dongsik feels unmoored, like Jeongje is prying into things he shouldn’t.

“He’s fine,” is what Dongsik settles with. A crumb of a truth is a truth all the same, which is all he can offer for now.

Jeongje’s gaze flits to Dongsik’s side, at the obvious absence of the man in question.

Dongsik sighs. “He’s at home.”

Something seems to hit Jeongje then, like an unseen force: he shifts in his seat, a small smile sitting on his lips. He looks simultaneously victorious and resigned, as if he won a personal wager at the cost of himself.

There was a time, Dongsik remembers, that he’d ache when Jeongje looks that way. When they were young and Jeongje needed him, when he couldn’t fend for himself and Dongsik was still the taller of the two.

this is actually finished but idk, i’m not satisfied with it so i never posted it??? it sits at 5.5k words and while it does start in a way i like, it degenerates to sth that makes me go “hmmmm wait a sec” whenever i reread so yeah. 🙃🙃🙃 anyway, it’s about ds reminiscing and revisiting the love he has for jj (while jj is imprisoned) and realizing that it just couldn’t work for them that way. sounds very sad, i know, but i’m operating on what the show has given all of us lmao. i have to reread it again because i havent touched it in a while but i seem to remember that it’s also about ds seeing just how much jj loved him; it’s just that the love they had for each other didn’t happen at the same time and it was already too late when they both realized it. YEAH. now u might be wondering, how does jw fit into the picture??? that snippet is one of the many ways he does. 😂😂 (and just in case someone’s curious: no, it doesn’t end in a threesome. had i been capable of pwp, it def would’ve but alas.)

anyway this got way too long lmao but thank you, as always, for indulging me!!!! u’re amazing. 💕

[hoffmans-hoffman]

JJ, just JJ

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

“Do you ever just feel„ "JJ you do know how stupid you sound right?"

JJ and Harry Du Bois

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Name: JJ

Aliases: Johnny Jax, Jenny Hart, Jameson Jacobs Jackson Jr(Some think this is his real name)

Nicknames: Big Boy(Harry Du Bois), Pipsqueak, Shivers, Jay(Kim Kitsuragi), Sweetie(His Grandma), *enter every mean skinny nickname*, Spider

Age: 44

Ex Partners: David When, Legs, Denies Rems

Current/Temporary Partners: Harry Du Bois, Kim Kitsuragi

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

“Shhh, I'm thinking„ "Out of free will this time?" “Hey!„

JJ and Kim Kitsuragi

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Archetype: The Lover, Lovers are always looking for ways to make others feel special and to meet their needs.

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

As another man from precinct 57, JJ is known for having compassion and respect for his previous partners, and for his current/temporary ones. He has a sunny disposition most of the time despite everything that's happening.

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

“Kim...I'm going to-„ "Yes I know, Detective back to the task at hand"

JJ and Kim Kitsuragi

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

Personality and Mannerisms

JJ is almost always smiling(unless he's by a body or delivering bad news to a family) it's actually a nervous habit, he fears if he doesn't keep a smile he'll lose all his happiness. He leans against Kim sometimes if they're talking to someone too long as he has back issues. The poor guy uses Like, Uh and um too much so he isn't allowed to question people as the more anxious he gets the worse it gets. If he gets annoyed with someone he'll go “Tck...„ and try to continue listening/Talking to whomever is bothering him. He's known for mouthing words whether it's to a song or when someone else is talking he'll mouth words to himself.

When they(Him, Harry and Kim) are talking to someone he'll peer over Kim, sure he is taller then Kim but it's a habit that can be traced back to his first partner. As his first partner who never really let JJ do anything.

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“Like...Kim said uhhh„ "I said goodnight" “Yeah goodnight„

JJ and Kim Kitsuragi saying goodnight to Harry Du Bois

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Look, Clothes and on his person

JJ is 6'6 and underweight as he tends to focus on his cases more than himself. He has black hair and pukey green eyes. Most of his coworkers call him spider as that is what he reminds them of, his long skinny limbs and his habit of climbing over fences and walls to get to suspects.

His clothes are complex but simple, he wears normal boots and jeans but when it gets to his top half that's where it gets a little weird. His first layer is a short sleeve kinda Hawaiian shirt with flamingos on it. The second layer is just a pair of black suspenders. His third and final layer is a denim jacket (yes sadly he's one of those) the jacket is warn and looks like he's been using it for some years. He has a metal ring on his right middle finger that is a little magnetic. Lastly he has a necklace with a pearl ring hanging from it.

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“You love me„ "Sadly" “....rude„

JJ and Kim Kitsuragi

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[buttercream-squad-imagines]

Tinder in Real Life

Pairings: Harry Lewis x fem!Reader, Sidemen x platonic!Reader Word Count: 2k Warnings: Language some people may find offensive, sexual themes, recycled lines from Sidemen Tinder in Real Life because I'm not at all creative Request: Hey! Could you do reader x Harry imagine where the sidemen do a collab video with the reader who is also a big youtuber and Harrys celebrity crush. And during the video the reader is very flirty, leaving Harry a flustered mess when the flirting is directed towards him, but very jealous when its with any other sidemen.

The Sidemen were one of the biggest groups on YouTube and one that you were very familiar with. At the age of 23, you were a fair bit younger than some of its oldest members but yet you had a close relationship with JJ, whom you had met through YouTube.

You had started your channel when you were 17, just under four years ago, making makeup videos, which was a passion of yours when you were younger. Not that you were any good at it back then. Those videos quickly become unlisted when your channel started blowing up in late 2016, now nearing 20 million at the present time.

It wasn't long before you expanded your horizons and had started making different sorts of videos, including vlogs of your everyday life - which wasn't and still isn't that exciting in your opinion - and those where you just had a laugh, attempting to do stupid challenges that were so popular back then. It was those, however, that grew your channel. Your fans seemed to love them and so you gradually started to make more.

As your small channel began to grow significantly, it caught the attention of KSI, a member of the Sidemen, who reached out to you to for a collab. You were ecstatic. You couldn't believe it at the time, why would someone like KSI with 20 million subscribers want to collaborate with you? By that time, you couldn't exactly call yourself a small channel anymore, with almost 5 million subscribers but it still didn't make any sense to you.

You and JJ quickly bonded after filming together. You had a very similar sense of humour and interests. As the years went, the older boy became one of your best friends, the nature of your relationship being very teasing and flirtatious but the both of you knew it was a joke. It was just the way you both were.

Though despite having known him for nearing 3 years now, you had never met the rest of the Sidemen, with the exception of Simon, as he lived with JJ. Which is why when he texted asking you to collaborate with the Sidemen, you couldn't turn the offer down. You were a fan of the group and the content they were producing. You thought the videos that they made were exceptional, that they were pushing the envelope of the standard of content on YouTube and often found yourself excited for new videos.

He had explained that they were filming another of their 'Tinder in real life' but a YouTuber version with the likes of BambinoBecky and ChiWithAC. You were so excited. You were finally going to meet the rest of JJ's friends and you had the opportunity to be a part of a Sidemen Sunday.

You arrived at the studio the boys were filming at in the afternoon, finding and greeting JJ before he introduced you to the other sidemen in addition to Lux, Freezy and Stephen.

"And you've already met Simon." He finished.

"Yeah. Nice to finally meet you all. JJ tells me a lot about you guys." You laughed.

"Because that's assuring." Ethan pointed out with a chuckle, the other boys letting out agreements.

"Not all bad, I promise." You teased, winking at him. Ethan felt the blood rushing to his face, immediately becoming flustered and stumbling over his words. You found that you often had that effect on people as you could be very direct and flirtatious even when you didn't mean it. To you it was just friendly banter.

"Geez Y/N, stop flirting with people you met literally five minutes ago." JJ rolled his eyes.

"You sound a bit jealous, Jide." You smirked, a teasing grin spread across your face.

"Nah, allow it." There were eruptions of laughter around the room, coming from the boys. You were quick to notice Harry standing out of the way and was significantly quieter than the others, with what seemed to be a forced smile on his face.

Harry was in his own head, barely paying attention to what was going on around him. When JJ had told him that you were going to be in the next Sidemen video, he panicked. You were an accomplished YouTuber who he was quite fond of to say the least. Well, that would be an understatement, he had a fairly large crush on you. A crush that no one but Freezy and Lux knew about.

He knew that JJ had been friends with you for some time now but never considered the possibility of even meeting you. His anxiety acted as a barrier to even the thought of it. But he was currently in the same room as you and had said nothing more than a short 'hello'. He longed to have the confidence Ethan had to speak to you, even more so for you to look at him the way you were.

Already you were flirting with JJ and Ethan, something that caused a pit to form at the bottom of his stomach. He wouldn't admit it, but he could slowly feel the jealousy forming. Not that he had anything to be jealous about in the first place!

You continued to speak with the boys as you got your mic set up, telling them stories you were sure would embarrass JJ.

"Y/N, stop." The older boy whined. He could be like a child sometimes, but it was one of his more endearing qualities. He simply wouldn't be JJ if he wasn't.

"No, carry on." Simon laughed.

"Oh, don't worry, there's plenty more where that came from." You teased.

"I think it's time we started, don't you think?" Harry grumbled.

"Right." You smiled at the boy, who's cheeks became tinted red. He ducked to hide his face and walked around to stand in the line, hiding himself in the middle.

"Hi, I'm Y/N, I'm 23 and I'm from Y/H/T." You spoke to the camera once you were given the go ahead.

"I'm Simon, I'm 28. I like to practice safe sex."

"Always a good start."

"I could tie you to the bed, so you don't fall off." He finished with a giggle. You acted like you were pondering it for a moment before letting out a laugh and swiping right.

"I'm down for that." You teased. The boys all let out rumbles of laughter

"Hi, I'm Ethan, I'm 26 and kiss me if I'm wrong, but you're gonna swipe right."

"What would you rather?" You joked. Ethan shrugged his shoulders and walked closer to the board, sticking his head through with his lips puckered, eliciting a cry of protest from Harry that this wasn't allowed. You laughed and made an over exaggerated motion to swipe to the right, causing him to pout playfully but walked over to the right anyway.

"Hi, I'm Josh, I'm 28. KSI has a top ten single, but you're the only hot single I can see."

"Wow, that was smooth!" You said with a grin. "Definite yes from me."

"I'm Callum, I'm 26. Are you into fitness?" Freezy asked.

"Can't say I am." You replied, unsure of what turn this could take.

"How about you fitness dick in your mouth?"

"I wouldn't get too excited babes, I gag on my toothbrush." You laughed. "We could try though."

You swiped right on him, chuckling as you watched him let out a yes before joining Simon, Ethan, and Josh. You frowned slightly, a crease forming between your brows as you saw Harry whisper something furiously at his friend but ultimately got distracted by Vik stepping up to go next.

"I'm Vik, I'm 25. My ex-girlfriend always said I'd never do better than her, wanna prove her right?" You could hear the cries of the boys in the background, some scolding him, others laughing.

"Man actually said prove her right. Not wrong." JJ shrieked with a shocked look on his face, holding his head with his hands.

"You need to find someone for that." You snarked, swiping left on the boy, who shrugged and walked off.

"Damn! You got told!" Lux cackled.

"Uh hi. I'm Harry. I'm uh 25, no I'm not I'm 24." He stumbled. "Are you sure you're a muggle? Because that ass is magical."

"You should see how magical it can be." You spoke before cringing at yourself and laughing, swiping right to avoid a reply. The boy's face grew a bright shade of red, closely resembling the colour of a tomato.

"Geez, is that an offer?!" Freezy yelled from the right side. You laughed, observing how Harry whispered furiously to the boy to stop and winked at him once he had could see. Your laughter only increased as you watched JJ step up.

"I'm JJ. I'm 28 and are you a raisin? Cause you're raising my dick." The boy in question stood in front of you so confidently, hands clasped together in front of him so seriously that you just lost it. By the time you composed yourself, there were tears almost falling from your eyes.

"A* for effort." You laughed, swiping right eliciting a cry of success.

You had wrapped up filming your segment of the video, which conveniently was the last of the day. You found JJ who you spoke to whilst the other boys were otherwise occupied talking to each other.

"Cheers for coming, Y/N/N. You've been great."

"Anything for you." You joked.

"Don't tempt me." He laughed. You could feel eyes on you, eyes that were burning into your side. You turned your head to see Harry staring you and JJ down before looking away after being caught in the act, and suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

"Does Harry not like me or something?" You whispered to JJ, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden.

"Not that I know of." He frowned looking at the younger boy. "He can be a bit awkward at times and gets flustered a lot."

"Right." You agreed. You excused yourself before sauntering up to the boy in question, calling his name to snap him out of the daze he appeared to be in.

"Oh, um hey Y/N." He stumbled.

"Hi." You smiled gently. "I uh, I was just wondering, do you... have I done something to offend you?"

"Offend me? Why, uh, why would you think that?" He rambled.

"It's just... it's nothing, it's probably just me overthinking things." You waved it off, feeling like a complete idiot.

"I'm sorry if I gave you the impression that I don't like you. I don't not like you, in fact I really like you! Oh, um I mean I like you, you're very pretty." The boy couldn't stop rambling which made you laugh. "No, wait."

"You think I'm pretty?" You blushed interrupting him. Harry felt his mouth go dry, not being able to get anything coherent to come out. "Well, Harry, I really like you too."

"What?" His eyebrows shot up so far it was almost comical. "Really? So, you don't like the other guys?"

"What? No." You laughed. "That's absurd. Why would you think that?"

"You seemed very..." The boy trailed off, not wanting to offend you after you had admitted to liking him.

"Flirty?" You finished, causing him to nod. "I'm like that with everyone, I don't mean to be half the time."

"Oh."

"Well, how about you give me your phone number and when you finally grow a pair, you can ask me out?" Your confidence levels had shot up spontaneously.

"Uh, sure." His cheeks had become a dark shade of red as he passed his phone to you so you could put your number in. You kept looking up at him as you typed, putting your name under 'Y/N x' in his contacts before handing it back to him.

"Y/N! Come on! We're going to Nando's!" JJ called from the other side of the room.

"Call me." You winked. Your bottom lip was caught between your teeth and was currently the only thing from stopping the wide grin from spreading across your face. A grin that hadn't disappeared from your face for the rest of the day, much to the curiosity of JJ, who was disappointed when you refused to tell him why, or more appropriately who, had put the smile on your face.

[criminalmindzjunkie]

Hungry Eyes

masterlist

Summary: Spencer is tired of hiding your relationship. 

A/N: The idea for this fic came from a lovely anon that requested a fic based on She’s So Nice by Pink Guy. I also drew inspo from Hungry Eyes by Eric Carmen (strange mix, but stay with me here.) So basically, a lot of Dom!Spencer goodness. I’d like to say a huge thank you for almost 1k followers, because wow. I never imagined 5 people would actually want to read my writing. I love you all, and I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future works!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Warnings: swearing, jealousy, degradation, spitting, slapping, oral sex (male and female receiving), spanking, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex

Word Count: 5.5k

           “That is one fine piece of ass. Don’t think I could get any work done with a sweet little thing like that prancing around my precinct,” mutters yet another sleezeball detective, beady eyes trained on you like a lion might study their prospective prey. It’s moments like these that Spencer has to remind himself that patience is a virtue – that he must bite his tongue because he’s at work and that means he has to act professional. Even if those around him don’t seem capable of affording him the same luxury.

           So, it’s with a clenched jaw and all the self-restraint that he can muster that Spencer forces himself to focus on the task at hand. Because Spencer is a professional, and there are more pressing matters that demand his undivided attention. The detective could be dealt with later – in the form of a complaint to the higher ups. But for now, patience.

           Usually, this wouldn’t be a problem. Years on the job had taught Spencer to remain level headed no matter the circumstance. Usually, Spencer could tune out the locker room talk in favor of immersing himself into the case. But when it came to you, or rather, people who dared to look upon you with eyes laden with lustful intentions, Spencer had a rather short fuse.

           It happens often, and he supposes that he shouldn’t be surprised. You’d certainly turned his head the first time he was fortunate enough to lay eyes on you. He’d nearly broken his neck trying to steal another glimpse of you as you walked past him on your way to Emily’s office on your first day. No one would ever describe Spencer Reid as forward, but on that day, he was the most brazen he’d ever been.

           Throwing caution to the wind, Spencer made a split-second decision stop you and introduce himself.

           It was the best decision he would ever make.

           So, yes – he understood why the head of everyone you passed turned your way, eager to bask in your unparalleled beauty. But that didn’t mean that he had to like it. In fact, every time Spencer caught some imprudent bastard leering at you, he had to remind himself that enacting physical force on another person with no real reason could cost him his job. That, and he was above resorting to violence – or at least he was, until you came around.  

           Part of his anger was rooted in the obvious lack of respect. It didn’t matter if Spencer held your hand in his as the two of you walked down the street, or if he kissed you on the lips in the middle of a crowded restaurant. All the PDA in the world did nothing to assuage the lingering stares, and Spencer felt his sanity chip away with every passing day.

           In the beginning, keeping his relationship with you a secret from your colleagues seemed like a good enough idea. Both of you were in agreement that you didn’t want to your personal relationship to affect your professional one, so when the elevator doors opened up and the two of you stepped out into the bullpen, you both were on your best behavior. And it was okay at first – Spencer was able to put his romantic feelings aside and focus on his work, all while still being able to make eyes at you from across the room. It was the perfect arrangement.

           Until it wasn’t.

           Because it wasn’t enough that you were gorgeous – you were also the most selfless person that Spencer had ever met. Always eager to lend a hand to anyone in need – always seeing the best in everyone, regardless of if they deserve it or not. It was an admirable quality to have, and he loved you for it, but on days like today he wishes you were a little more perceptive.

           That, and he wishes you’d chosen to wear anything but the tight little skirt and low-cut top that you were currently sporting. Not that he didn’t love the way the fabric clung to your figure like it was tailor-made for you – because he did - it was just that every other male in the precinct seemed to enjoy it as much as he did. And that made Spencer’s blood boil.

           The tipping point comes when, just as Spencer is trying to hunt you down and propose a quick lunch break, he finds you engaging in conversation with the very same detective that had been spouting lewd comments about you all morning. You’re seated at the breakroom table, clutching a fresh cup of coffee in hand as you look up at the man, a polite smile upturning your lips as you listen to him drone on about how his amateur baseball team had won some stupid fucking tournament the previous weekend. He’s smiling down at you, endlessly smug and way too pleased with himself at having captured your attention.

           It makes Spencer sick.

           His reprieve comes when your eyes flit to the doorway and you flash him a breathtaking smile. It makes him warm from the inside out, and Spencer wants nothing more than to plant kiss after kiss on your lips. Unfortunately, he can’t, so he settles on returning your smile.

           “There you are,” Spencer greets as he crosses the room before coming to a stop next to you. “I was thinking we could go grab lunch.”

           “Is it really lunch time already?” you murmur as you glance down at your watch. “I guess I let the day get away from me. Detective Yarborough was just telling me about the baseball game his team won this weekend.”

           “Oh, was he now,” Spencer feigns interest as he turns to face the man.

           “Yup,” you say, completely oblivious to the uncomfortable tension. “Didn’t you tell me you played in a baseball game once?”

           This piques the interest of Yarborough and he raises an eyebrow at Spencer.

           “You play?” he asks, tone laden with disbelief.

           “Not exactly.”

           The detective merely harrumphs in response, and an uncomfortable silence falls on the room.

           Your eyes dart between the two men and your brows furrow adorably as you try to make sense of the almost palpable animosity.

           “Okay… So, lunch. Did you have anything in mind, Spence?”

           “There’s a really good pizza joint two blocks from here,” Yarborough chimes in. “I could show you, if you like.”

           He acts as if the offer extends to you both, but the way he looks only at you when he says it tells Spencer otherwise.

           “The hospitality is appreciated, but that won’t be necessary,” Spencer breezes, clipped and to the point. He’s able to see in his peripheral vision the way your eyebrows raise in shock, but he’s too busy glaring at the detective to care.

           “Uh, yeah. Thanks anyways, Detective,” you mutter confusedly as you stand.

           “Anything for a pretty lady such as yourself,” he replies. “And you can call me Trevor.”

           Spencer’s hands are clenched into fists and he has to actually bite down on his tongue to keep from doing something he’d surely regret later. You bid Trevor ado with a smile and a parting wave, and then Spencer’s ushering you out of the room and down the hall, hand placed firmly on your back. He can’t do much in regards to initiating physical contact, but he allows himself this miniscule act of PDA. The feeling of your warmth radiating through your blouse is the only thing keeping him from giving into his primal instincts. Instincts that are screaming at him to put that smarmy bastard in his place.

--

           The hours after lunch pass by rather uneventfully. You accompany Tara when she goes to interview the victim’s family, and for the first-time all-day Spencer is able to repress his frustration long enough to focus on piecing together a geographical profile. By the time you and Tara return, the sun has long since disappeared from the sky and fatigue is rolling off everyone in waves. When Emily finally announces the end of the day, she’s met with absolutely no resistance.

           Spencer immediately scans the room for you, only to frown when he sees that you’re nowhere in sight. In fact, he hasn’t set eyes on you in well over an hour, too busy wrapping up the days’ work to notice your absence until now.

           “Has anyone seen Y/N?” Spencer calls out. His question is met by several shaking heads.

           “I think she’s busy,” JJ sing-songs, eyebrows waggling suggestively. Spencer’s frown only deepens.

           “Busy?”

           JJ nods.

           “Yarborough has been chomping at the bit to ask her to dinner. My guess is he’s got her cornered somewhere.”

           Of fucking course.

           Spencer’s out of his seat and stomping through the precinct in second, oblivious to the way his coworkers exchange curious glances as he storms off.

           He finds the two of you in much the same way as before, only this time Trevor is blocking your path to the doorway, hand in the air as he moves to tuck a stray piece of your hair behind your ear.

           “– C’mon, babe. Say you’ll go to dinner with me,” Trevor croons in a way that’s supposed to come off as seductive. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

           You lean backwards in an attempt to evade his touch, and you barely get the chance to open your mouth when Spencer intervenes.

           “She’s not interested.”

           The detective whips around, snorting in annoyance when he sees Spencer standing in the doorway.

           “What are you, her fucking keeper?” Trevor sneers, before turning back to face you. “Who does this guy think he is?”

           Something in Spencer snaps, then – the same something that has been swelling inside him for months, threatening to spill over every time he had to pretend that the stares didn’t enrage him. He’s tired of pretending, tired of hiding, and so, so fucking tired of not putting assholes like Trevor Yarborough in their place.

           Fueled by months of suppressed anger, Spencer manages to cross the room in about two seconds. He has several inches on the detective, standing at an intimidating six-foot one inch in height, so when he comes to a stop right in front of the detective, he’s looming over him threateningly.

           “I’m her fucking boyfriend, and if you so much as try to touch her again, I’ll break your goddamn hand,” Spencer spits out, and he’d be lying if he said the way Trevor’s eyes widen in fear doesn’t thrill him. “Are we clear?”

           “Uh, yeah. Sorry, dude,” Trevor splutters, raising his hands in surrender. “Didn’t know she was taken. My bad.”

           Spencer tears his eyes away from the detective and takes in the way you’re watching on with an amused expression. He reaches out, and you’re quick to place your hand in his. Without speaking another word to the detective, Spencer leads you from the room and out the back entrance of the precinct.

           “What was that?” you tease, eyes glistening mischievously underneath the street lights. “I thought we agreed that we weren’t taking things public just yet?”

           Spencer crowds you against the brick wall of the building, pressing his body flush against yours. He ducks down swiftly, pulling you into a frenzied kiss. His lips drag against yours relentlessly, and all it takes is one breathy moan before he’s licking into your mouth possessively. Spencer slots his knee in between your legs, simultaneously groping at your chest with one hand as the other tangles in your hair.

           When Spencer pulls away, he doesn’t go far. His lips leave a trail of wet kisses down your neck as you writhe against him, hands clinging tightly to his dress shirt. You whimper when his teeth nip at the tender spot right under your ear, and you can’t help the way your hips cant up when Spencer’s tongue brushes against reddened skin.

           “I’m tired of pretending,” Spencer murmurs as his mouth continues to move against you, sucking purple bruises against your flesh. “Don’t fucking care about how it will affect the job. Tomorrow, everyone’s gonna know that you’re mine. Gonna mark every inch of you tonight – gonna fuck you until you can’t fucking walk.”

           “Please,” you slur as you guide Spencer’s hand down until his fingers graze the end of your skirt. Spencer chuckles darkly against your neck when his hand brushes against the soiled lace of your panties.

           “Didn’t mean I’d fuck you right here,” he laughs, prompting you to let out an impatient whine. The hand that was previously tangled in your hair slides down until it’s wrapped around your throat, and Spencer’s cock twitches eagerly in his pants when you push your throat harder into his palm. “Such a needy little slut for me. Ready and willing for me to fuck you out in the open, where anyone could walk by and see how fucking desperate you are for my cock.”

           “M’ your slut,” you pant as Spencer’s middle and index fingers ghost across your center. “Only yours, Spence. I don’t care who sees, just - please fuck me!”

           “I fucking own you,” Spencer growls against your lips as he tightens his hold on your throat. “And as much as I’d love to take you right against this wall, the things I have planned for you would elicit quite an audience. I know how loud you like to be.”

           Spencer pushes your panties to the side and you let out a low hiss as he drags a finger across where want him most. You cry out in frustration when he removes his hand to bring it up to his mouth, tongue darting out to lick his finger clean.

           “Just needed a little taste to tide me over,” Spencer murmurs, smirking devilishly at you as he steps back from you. “Let’s head back to the hotel. I’ve got lots I wanna do to you, pretty girl.”

--

           As soon as the door to the hotel room clicks shut, clothes are flying off as the two of you make your way to the bed. It’s a mad dash as you both undress, and as soon as the last garment leaves your body, Spencer pounces on you. Your lips meet in a passionate kiss, and the way you immediately go pliant as Spencer’s mouth works against yours makes him hum appreciatively.

           “Don’t feel like being nice tonight. Are you gonna let me use that pretty little pussy however I want?” Spencer inquires, though he already knows the answer. He’s known how tonight would pan out ever since the first roll of your hips against his back at the police station.

           You nod fervently, hopelessly, and Spencer moves his hand up to grip your chin in his hand. The pad of his thumb traces over the swollen skin of your kiss bruised lips.

           “What about this?” he asks, tapping lightly against your lip. “Are you gonna let me fuck this slutty little mouth of yours?” Spencer slips his thumb into your mouth and you immediately close your lips around the digit, suckling lightly. Your eyes never leave his.

           “You’d do anything I asked you to, wouldn’t you, pet?” Spencer muses, pressing his thumb farther into your mouth until you gag around him. Spencer withdraws his thumb and his hand tugs hard on the hair at the back of your scalp. “Open.”

           You oblige immediately, and Spencer spits into your waiting mouth. You swallow without being instructed, and the visual of it makes Spencer let out a low groan.

           “Get on your knees,” Spencer barks out, and the way you scramble to follow his order makes him let out a chuckle. “So eager to have my cock in your mouth,” he hums as he taps his dick teasingly against your cheek. You open your mouth wide for him, and Spencer guides your mouth down onto his dick at a tantalizingly slow pace. You let out a moan as you hollow your cheeks around his head, tongue lapping greedily at the precum that gathered there before Spencer makes you take him deeper.

           “Everyone thinks you’re such an innocent little thing, but here you are, letting me use you like a cheap whore while you enjoy every minute of it,” Spencer says through gritted teeth as you moan wantonly around his cock. It isn’t until he’s halfway down your throat that your eyes begin to water, mascara running down your cheeks as he fucks into your mouth.

           Spencer lets out a choked sound when your nose brushes against the skin of his abdomen, and he has to fight the urge to throw his head back in pleasure. He doesn’t want to look away, not even for a moment. Not when you’re looking up at him like that, tears running down your face as you swallow around his length.

           He pulls you off him just the tiniest bit before he’s forcing you back down, a string of curses falling from his lips as your head bobs up and down.

           “You take my cock so well, pretty girl,” Spencer praises, prompting you to let out a muffled moan around him. The vibrations send a shock of pleasure through him and he can help the way his hips stutter. “Fuck, baby. You like it when I tell you what a perfect little whore you are, don’t you?”

           You’re unable to answer, because Spencer presses down on the back of your head until you’ve taken all of him again. The pressure he puts on you doesn’t relent, not even when you gag around him.

           “Fucking choke on it, slut,” Spencer grunts. “Don’t act like you don’t want this. You were just begging me to fuck you in an alley not twenty minutes ago, like some pathetic fucking tramp. You wanna act like a tramp, I’m gonna treat you like one.”

           Spencer’s lips curl into a debauched grin when your hands come up and grip the backs of his thighs, pulling him closer and further down your throat.

           “That’s what I fucking thought,” Spencer moans, giving several more harsh thrusts before pulling you off of him completely. Spencer reaches down to wipe at the spit that coats your lips as you look up at him with a shy smile.

           “You okay, pretty girl?” Spencer asks as he caresses the side of your face.

           “Mm,” you hum, nuzzling your face against his palm. “Keep going, please. Don’t hold back.”

           “God, I fucking love you,” Spencer sighs happily. “Get on the bed.”

           By the time Spencer fishes a tie out of his suitcase, you’re sprawled out across the bed, head resting against the pillows with your legs spread wide. Your teeth are nestled against your bottom lip as you watch him stalk towards you, eyes running up and down his naked figure appreciatively.

           Spencer crawls onto the bed until he’s settled in between your legs. You present your wrists to him, just like you’ve done a million times before, and Spencer feels that familiar thrum of excitement rush through his body. He fucking lives for moments like these – moments where all his problems melt away to nothing. Moments where he has no other thought than wrecking you, thoroughly and completely.

           Once your wrists are bound you hold them above you, and Spencer sits back on his heels, eyes raking up and down every inch of you.

           “M’ so fucking lucky to be the only one who gets to see you like this.”

           Spencer pinches your right nipple in between his fingers and you let out a squeak, hips bucking up, desperate for some friction. He kneads your breast in his hand as he lowers his mouth to the other one, tongue laving around you. A light nip from his teeth is all that it takes for you to cry out, eyelids fluttering closed.

           “Spence, please. Need you to touch me now, pl-”

           Spencer’s hand connecting with your cheek stops you from finishing your sentence.

           “Do not tell me what to do,” Spencer seethes, once again gripping your chin to keep you from looking away. “Ungrateful slut. I should just leave you here, fucking dripping and desperate for a release that you won’t get. Maybe then you’d learn to take what’s given to you.”

           “Please, no! I’ll be good, I swear. I’m sorry!”

           Spencer narrows his eyes at you, contemplative.

           “Open.”

           You do as he says, and without another word Spencer inserts two fingers into your mouth, pressing down hard on your tongue.

           “Get them nice and wet, and maybe I’ll think about using them on you.”

           You do as he tells you, and by the time Spencer removes his fingers from your mouth, you’re trembling underneath him from anticipation.

           “D-Did I do good?” you stutter out, batting your lashes at him as you squirm under his gaze.

           “So good, baby. I think you’ve earned my fingers,” Spencer hums. “Need you to be still, okay? You’re not gonna like what happens if you try to move.”

           You nod enthusiastically, eyes fluttering shut when his fingers brush across your clit. Spencer spends ample time rubbing deliciously slow circles over your sensitive bundle of nerves, relishing in every gasp and whimper that falls from your lips. Lips that he’d very much like to kiss, so he does, and you’re more than happy to reciprocate. Spencer lets out a happy sigh into your mouth.

           You get lost in the kiss, so lost in the way that Spencer licks into your mouth that it catches you completely off guard when he slides two fingers into you.

           “Oh, God,” you moan when Spencer curls his fingers against your walls, fucking them in and out of you, slow and unrelenting.

           “S’that feel good, princess?” Spencer asks, a teasing lilt to his voice. “Tell me how it feels.”

           Your head falls back against the pillows as you struggle to keep your hips firmly placed on the mattress.

           “Feels amazing, Spence. Always feels so good with you. Never want anyone else, only you.”

           And fuck, if that sentiment doesn’t shoot straight to his heart - amongst other places. Spencer places a tender kiss to your cheek before he’s moving down to your neck and sucking a bruise right under your jaw.

           “Yeah?” Spencer prompts. “Not even that stupid fucking detective? I’m sure he’d love a chance to see you like this.”

           “So, you were jealous,” you chuckle between moans, and Spencer bites down hard where your neck meets your shoulder.

           “F-Fuck, Spencer!”

           “Should I be jealous?” Spencer speeds up the onslaught of his fingers, scissoring them at such an unforgiving pace that you can’t help but roll your hips against them.

           You regret this instantly, because Spencer’s fingers immediately pull out of you, leaving you empty and cold. Spencer tuts, shaking his head disappointedly.

           “Dumb little whore can’t even sit still long enough to cum on my fingers.”

           “Please, let me try again. I’ll do better, I promise!”

           Spencer shakes his head and scoots up until his back is rested against the pillows.

           “C’mere,” he commands. “Lay across my lap. Or can you not follow simple commands?”

           “I-I can,” you whisper as you crawl across him, splaying out so that you rest on your elbows with your ass in the air.

           Spencer grabs a handful of your ass and kneads it in his hands.

           “How many do you think you deserve?”

           You blush and smile shyly at him from over your shoulder.

           “However many you want to give me. I can take it.”

           Spencer returns your smile.

           “Good answer. I think you can handle fifteen. How does that sound?”

           “Sounds perfect. T-Thank you, Spencer,” you mumble, cheeks burning red. Spencer continues to caress the tender skin of your bare ass, admiring the way the skin is completely blank; the perfect canvas.

           You let out a whimper when his hand comes down hard on your ass before kneading the sensitive, reddening skin.

           “T-Thank you,” you gasp out, and Spencer is quick to follow up with another strike against the opposite cheek.

           It goes on like this until it’s time for the fifteenth strike, and by then you’ve devolved into garbled whines, ass bright red and marked up with the imprint of Spencer’s hands. His dick is painfully hard underneath you, and you’re in a similar state – arousal dripping onto Spencer’s thigh, coating it.

           “Last one, baby. Do you think you can handle it?”

          “Y-Yes,” you choke out. “Please, I need it. Hurt me, please.”

           The desperation in your voice does things to him, makes him practically feral with the need to fucking tear you apart, and Spencer is quick to deliver the final blow. You barely even have it in you to cry out anymore – a feeble sob is all that falls from your lips.

          Spencer’s hand ghosts down across your bruised skin until his fingertips trace over where you drip for him.

          “You like it when I punish you, don’t you, dirty girl?” Spencer hums as his fingers glide over your soaked folds. 

          “Y-Yes,” you mewl, shifting so that your cunt grinds back onto his hand. Spencer indulges you - allows you to rock your hips against his palm as he watches on in awe, soaking up every desperate sound that tumbles past your lips. 

          Spencer pulls his hand away after a moment and you keen in protest.

           “Can you sit up for me, sweet girl?” Spencer asks, and you nod, because of course you do – you’d do anything if you thought it’d please him. You struggle to pull yourself up with shaky limbs, and Spencer puts a hand on your lower back to steady you. “Can you straddle my leg? Yeah, just like that.” Spencer pulls you down and places a slow kiss to your lips, one hand coming up to wipe away the tears gliding down your face. After a moment of slow, sweet kisses are shared, Spencer unties your wrists.

           “I want you to ride my thigh – can you do that, princess?”

           You whimper as you lower yourself down onto his leg, eyes fluttering shut as you begin to rock against the hardened muscle of his leg.

           Spencer continues placing kisses on your lips, your face, your neck – worshipping every inch of skin he can reach with his mouth, all while whispering praises against you.

           “So perfect for me. Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs as he grips your hips with steady hands, urging you to increase the speed of your hips. “Can’t wait to have that perfect pussy wrapped around my cock. Always so tight, yet you take it so well every time.”

           “S-Spence, m’ close,” you slur, hands clinging desperately to his shoulders.

           “Already? You usually last a bit longer than that, baby.”

           “P-Please, Spencer, I can’t-” you whimper, tears once again pricking at the corners of your eyes at the thought of having to wait a second longer.

           “Shh, baby. It’s okay, you can cum,” Spencer reassures you, and your shoulders visibly untense. “Cum for me, pretty girl.”

           It takes two more rolls of your hips for you to cum on Spencer’s thigh with a cry of his name. Spencer rubs soothing circles into your hips as you ride out your high, murmuring broken thank yous as you come down.

           Finally, you still, and your eyes open, pupils so dilated that your eyes look almost black in the dim light of the hotel room.

          “You okay, princess?”

           You give a weak nod.

           “M’great,” you smile, sounding as fucked out as he’s ever heard you. You lean down and slot your mouth against his, and the kiss is slow and languid – soft and unhurried.

            Spencer is the first to pull away.

           “Need you to get on all fours for me,” he instructs. “Don’t think you need to put any pressure on that pretty little ass of yours right now.”

           You giggle at that, before crawling off of Spencer’s lap. You assume the position, and Spencer places a pillow underneath your hips before trailing a line of kisses down your spine. By the time he reaches your ass, you’re writing against him, wiggling your hips eagerly. Spencer places a kiss to both of your bruised cheeks before pulling away.

           You let out a startled oh! when Spencer licks up your center, parting you with his fingers before fucking in and out of you with his tongue.

           “S-Spence, oh my God, yes!” you cry out, hands fisting in the sheets as he continues to work his mouth against your core.

           “Love your fucking pussy so much,” Spencer sighs against you, lapping at your clit hungrily. “Could fucking lick you out for hours. You taste so perfect, Y/N.”

            Spencer lets out a filthy groan against you, and that’s all it takes for you to fall over the edge, wrecked moans filling the otherwise silent hotel room. This orgasm hits you both quicker and harder than the first, and he can’t help but smile against you as you rock back against his face, desperate to prolong the sensation. Spencer continues to work you through your orgasm, stopping only when you cease to twitch underneath him.

           “Such a good girl for me. Think you can handle one more?”

            You raise up just enough that you can look at him from over your shoulder.

           “Yes, please,” you beg, voice scratchy and raw. “Please, fuck me.”

           “Yes, ma’am,” Spencer chuckles. “Do you think you can lay on your back? I wanna see that pretty face when I make you cum on my cock.”

           You answer by rolling over, wincing slightly when your ass comes in contact with the sheets. You look up at Spencer with wide, doe eyes. You have mascara smeared all down your cheeks and your lips are swollen, and to top it all off, deep, purple love bites are dusted across the entire expanse of your neck and chest. Spencer had set out to mark you as his – so that no one would be able to deny that you belonged to him – and he’d done a spectacular job, if he said so himself.

           “God, you’re so fucking pretty.”

           “Then come fuck me already,” you challenge, looking sated in every possible way – yet still, your eyes hold the same hunger that he’s sure is reflected in his own eyes.

           Spencer leans down and traps your lips in a bruising kiss, and without warning he thrusts in you to the hilt. You cry out into the kiss, startled by the sudden intrusion, but Spencer sets a brutal pace that leaves you no time to recover.

           “You said you wanted me to fuck you,” he growls against your lips. “Now fucking take it.”

           He’s fucking into you so hard that you can’t even manage a reply – you just tighten your legs around his waist and drag your nails across the expanse of his back, no doubt leaving bright red marks in your wake. Spencer can feel his own release fast approaching – honestly, he’s been close ever since the first drag of his tongue against your pussy. And now that he’s finally enveloped into your tight, wet heat, that all too familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach is threatening to consume him.

           Spencer’s hand descends from its place next to your head down to your clit, and your whole body jolts with the first swipe of his thumb. You clench around him as a litany of particularly filthy utterances escapes you, and Spencer’s hips stutter.

           “Fuck, princess,” he groans, head coming to rest on your shoulder as he struggles to regain his rhythm. “You don’t even know what you do to me. You’ve ruined me for anyone else. Never fucking want to lose you. Love you so much.”

           “I love you, I love you, I love you,” you chant into his ear, sounding like some kind of siren, luring him straight to his inevitable ruination. “I’m so close, Spence. Cum with me, please? I want to feel you. Please, baby.”

           “Y-Yeah, fuck,” Spencer chokes out. “Say my name when you cum, princess. Want everyone to know how good I fuck you.”

           And when you cum with a shout of his name, walls pulsating deliciously around his cock, Spencer is quick to join you. He continues to roll his hips against yours as you both ride it out, whispers of almost intelligible affirmations being shared between slow, loving kisses.

           After a moment of post-orgasm bliss, Spencer leaves and returns with a bottle of cocoa butter lotion and a warm, wet rag. You watch on with heavy lidded eyes as he cleans you up, and for a moment, he thinks you’ve fallen asleep. It’s not until he finishes slathering your reddened backside with lotion that you speak again.

           “You shouldn’t be jealous, by the way,” you murmur as he lays down beside you. “You’re it for me, Spencer Reid. I don’t ever want you to doubt that I’m anything less than crazy about you.”

           It’s everything that Spencer’s ever wanted to hear, and just like that, every fear – every insecurity that had plagued him in the past several months – fell away to nothing. Suddenly, he couldn’t remember why he’d ever been worried in the first place.

           “You’re it for me, too,” Spencer whispers as he pulls you until his arms and presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.

           “We’re going to have a lot of explaining to do tomorrow, you know,” you remark as you nuzzle into Spencer’s side.

           “Don’t care,” he sighs happily. “I’ll shout it from the roof tops if I have to. I want everyone to know you’re my girl.”

           “You’re a sap, Doctor Reid.”

           “Only for you.”

           A moment of blissful silence passes, before the sound of your growling stomach sets you both into a fit of giggles.

           “We never did get dinner, did we?” Spencer muses as he lightly runs his fingernails across your scalp. You hum appreciatively and a pleased shiver rolls through you.

           “Nope. You were a little too preoccupied with marking your territory to even offer to feed me,” you tease as you run your fingertips down the planes of his chest.

           “Well, now that that’s been taken care of - could I interest you in some takeout?”

          “Possibly,” you sigh, flattening your palm on his chest, right over his heart. “Do you think that pizza place Trevor mentioned delivers?”

          “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

          “Is that a no?”

          “... Look up the number.”

-

-

-

taglist: @90spumkin​ @moon-light-jukebox​ @thebookamongmen​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @itsametaphorbriansblog​ @eldahae​

[scuttling]

Paper Rings

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 10,191 Tags: SFW, Fluff, Literature, Friends to lovers, Everyone thinks they're dating, There was only one bed, Some angst with a happy ending, Confessing love in the rain, TW fire and blood/wound Summary: Some of my favorite tropes rolled into one cute fic inspired by Taylor Swift's Paper Rings. (lyrics and music) Link to A03 or read below! “Good morning, my friendly neighborhood crime fighters,” Penelope says as she enters the briefing room, wearing a dress that is bright bubblegum pink, with fingerless gloves and glasses to match. You, Derek, and Spencer groan your replies, because you just got home from a case last night, with less than seven hours between arriving at your apartment and returning to the office, and that is everyone’s least favorite thing.

You can’t deny that her typical sunny disposition makes you smile a little bit brighter, but you’re still exhausted, and even your usual extra large travel mug of breakfast blend is barely taking the edge off.

That’s probably why, when Aaron enters with trays of steaming espresso drinks from the cafe down the street, and a striped box of donuts, you act like a kid on Christmas morning.

“Oh my god, I love you. Thank you, I love you.” He got an array of basic drinks based on everyone’s usual orders, and you scan for one that has something with latte, but he takes one out and hands it to you, smiling when you take a sip and sigh—okay, he’s smiling with his eyes, but you are well versed in his body language and facial expressions, and he’s practically grinning at getting your order (triple one pump hazelnut extra hot latte) correct.

You are not the only one to notice.

“Get a room, you two; it’s just coffee,” Derek says, taking the white mocha from the tray and drinking half of it in one sip. “Now if you tell me there’s a bear claw in there, I’ll confess my undying love too.”

“I don’t know; I asked for an assortment,” he says, and it’s clear he did, but your cup has your name on it; you cover the ink with your hand and take another grateful sip. “I do know there’s a plain glazed in there, though,” he says a bit lower, just for you, and you smile, give his wrist a squeeze, and dive for it before Jennifer Jareau can get her hands on it.

That’s all the morning meeting consists of—bickering and bantering and caffeine and carb consumption—and when the group disperses, you follow Aaron to his office and sit down in the chair across from his.

“Thanks again for breakfast. You definitely raised the morale of the troops,” you say with a sip of your perfect latte, and he shares the hint of a smile.

“You’re welcome. It helps that you’re all so easy to appease.” He flips open his bag, pulls out a small, worn, paperback book, tosses it toward you. You pick it up, run your hand over the well-loved cover, and hum.

“The Call of the Wild—this made it into the Aaron Hotchner Nightstand Collection?” He arches a brow.

“It’s so overrated that it’s underrated; no one ever actually reads it, they just assume they know what it’s about. It’s a great book, if you’ll give it a chance.”

“Hey, you’ve read all of mine without complaint; of course I’ll give it a chance.” You take the last, sad sip of your latte and stand up, point out the door with your thumb. “Speaking of, mine’s still downstairs on my desk. I’ll be right back.”

Exchanging books started as an offhand comment one night, on a flight home from Georgia, when he’d mentioned that he never buys new books, only cycles through the same ten or twelve he’s been reading since college. He knows what he likes, finds something different in the text each time he reads, and you’d found something so profoundly beautiful about that that you’d asked for the list. You wanted to know more about the books that tug at his emotions enough that he’s read them day in and day out for over twenty years with no boredom in sight.

He’d done you one better, said he’d be happy to lend them to you, if you’d like, and that was an offer you couldn’t refuse. Seeing college-aged Aaron’s notes in the margins of battered paperback novels was a prospect too good to be true.

Of course, you couldn’t accept the gesture without returning one of your own, so you’d offered to share your favorite books with him too, only... you don’t exactly give him your favorite books. You purposefully buy the cheesiest romance novels you can get your hands on, pass them off to him while he hands you poignant, classic novels that have won literary awards and Nobel prizes.

Today’s is called Lord of Scoundrels, complete with a shirtless man on the cover, kissing a woman with dark, flowing hair and a light blue dress; you snicker the whole way to your desk and back up to his office—earning curious glances from the rest of the team—and when you drop it on the desk in front of Aaron, you watch closely for a reaction.

As usual, he doesn’t really give you one, just flips the book over, skims the summary on the back, and nods.

“Sounds interesting,” he says, and your heart does a little flip.

He could easily hand the book back, laugh in your face, refuse to read something so clearly out of his wheelhouse, but he thinks these novels are important to you, and he never fails to read them, offering his favorite parts the same way you do for his.

The world probably doesn’t deserve Aaron Hotchner; you definitely don’t.

“I think you’ll really like it. Sebastian and Jessica start out kind of indifferent toward each other, but the more they interact, the more they find they have in common. It’s very acquaintances to friends to lovers, if you’re into that.” He looks up with an expression you place as uncertainty, even if you’re not quite sure the reason for it. You smile softly. “I should get to work, but thanks for the book. I’ll see you at lunch?”

It’s been so nice lately that you started taking your lunch outside, sitting on a bench beneath a huge, shady oak tree, and Aaron had taken to doing the same; you both quickly realized it was stupid to sit outside together, apart, so you meet up in the bullpen now and walk out side by side, spend the hour talking about your books or the team or Jack or life in general. He shakes the uncertain expression, nods his head.

“Of course. Thank you,” he says with a wave of the book, and you head back downstairs to start your day.

You’ve become mostly accustomed to the feeling, but it still surprises you a little when all that gets you through the day is thinking about your next conversation with Aaron. A week later, you’re on a case in Pittsburgh, and you and Aaron are paired up to room together. That’s nothing unusual—it seems like you’ve been rooming together more often than not lately, which is fine by you; he’s tidy, quiet, always interested in a late night snack, pretty much the perfect roommate—but when he opens the door and you step inside, the single king size bed in the middle of the room takes you by surprise.

“Uh… do you think it’s a mistake? Or maybe they just ran out of doubles?” you suggest; he's kind of frozen in place, and while it’s not ideal, you know it’s not actually going to be a problem. You’ve shared a bed with JJ before, and Spencer, and even though you don’t feel the same way about them as you do about Aaron, you think you can manage a couple nights in close quarters.

“Probably just ran out of doubles,” he agrees after a moment; he doesn’t bring up calling the front desk to ask for another room, so you don’t either, just hang your clothes and head into the bathroom to change into your pajamas and do your nightly routine.

It’s a little awkward at first, and you don’t know why; over the last six months or so, he’s actually become your closest friend on the team, and conversation usually comes easily, but silence settles over the room uncomfortably as you slip between the sheets on your side of the bed.

He goes into the bathroom, does his own nightly routine, then comes out in his pajamas and turns on CNN.

You take out your book, pay no attention to Aaron, but the longer he sits on the edge of the bed, staring at the news ticker on the television screen but not actually watching it, the more you wish he’d just get over himself and come to bed. If he’s trying to wait for you to fall asleep, he’s going to be waiting a while.

“So you were right; I love Buck,” you say as a way to start some conversation, to bring some normalcy to this unusual situation. You hold up the book you’re reading, the one he let you borrow. “His struggle between remaining loyal to his owner and answering the call of the wild—I love dogs, but I never imagined a book about a dog could be so moving.”

He turns back with a soft smile, then switches off the tv and heads over to his side of the bed; he pulls back the comforter, slides between the sheets, meets you toward the middle of the bed.

“I told you you’d like it; what chapter are you on?” He leans over to look, so close it wouldn’t take much to lift a hand and brush it over his hair; it looks unfairly soft, and part of you wants to card your fingers through it, to tug on it and mess it up a little. He probably wouldn’t even mind if you did.

“Chapter 7—I only have a few pages left.” You snuggle more comfortably against your pillow, lean into his shoulder, and move the book so it’s more evenly between you. “Want to finish it with me?”

He does, and you read silently at a similar pace; he reaches up to turn the pages, and you think about how these hands have flipped through this book so many times before, what he might have been thinking, feeling, while reading. It’s a more intimate act than you’ve shared with anyone in a really long time.

When you finish the book, you sigh, let the feeling of reading a really great story envelope you; you turn to face Aaron, and he’s looking at you… and then there’s a knock at the door that startles you both.

He gets up, walks over and checks the peep hole, then opens the door.

“Are you sure?” you hear JJ ask, and he steps back so she can enter the room; when she sees you tucked snugly into the middle of the bed, she shoots you a soft smile and mouths you’re welcome, which makes absolutely no sense without context. You’ll have to bring it up to her later and ask what exactly you’re supposed to be thanking her for.

“So you said the detective called?” Aaron prompts her, and she looks away from you, nods.

“Yes, he wanted me to ask if we could have a few agents meet him at the second crime scene tomorrow instead of the precinct, figured it could save a little time.” Aaron looks confused, like he doesn’t see why this couldn’t have waited until tomorrow, but he ultimately agrees.

“Sure. You, Reid, and Prentiss can head straight there, if that’s what he wants. I’ll let them know in the morning.” JJ nods, and looks over at you, and then back at Aaron, who makes a kind but curious face. “Was there something else?”

“Huh? Oh, no, that’s it. I just didn’t want to forget. I’ll let you guys go—enjoy the rest of your night,” she says with a smile and a wave, and when he closes the door behind her, you both exchange a look.

She’s definitely acting a little weird, but it’s late, so you give her the benefit of the doubt.

You scoot over to your side, put the book on the nightstand and switch off your lamp; Aaron climbs back into bed and switches his off, too, and he turns to face the wall while you lay on your back and stare at the ceiling.

It takes about half an hour, but he falls asleep first; you turn to face him, watching his back, following the rise and fall as he softly breathes in sleep, and the peaceful rhythm lulls you into submission, and you drift off as well.

When you wake up a couple hours later, he is on his stomach with his face pressed into his pillow, and you are draped over his back with your cheek against his t-shirt. It’s soft, and warm, and smells like him, and you glance at the clock and realize it’s too early to do anything but get comfortable and fall back asleep, so that’s exactly what you do.

The next time you wake up, to light creeping in between the curtains, Aaron is no longer in bed, but you’re holding his pillow, still warm beneath your cheek. He doesn’t act weird when you get up and start moving around, just pops out of the bathroom with his toothbrush dangling from his mouth.

“Got you a latte,” he says around it, gesturing to the desk and the pair of paper cups that sit on it, and you grin.

“Seriously, you’re my favorite human,” you answer, and you grab your coffee and lean against the doorframe, sipping and sighing until you’re a little more clear-headed. “Sorry if I crushed you; guess I was restless last night. I usually don’t move around that much.”

He just shrugs, spits out a mouthful of foam into the sink.

“You didn’t crush me. I’m pretty solid, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“I’ve noticed,” you tease, looking at him over the lid as you take another sip. “Now hurry up and quit hogging the bathroom if you want to leave here at a decent hour.” He rinses, zips up his toiletry bag noisily for dramatic effect, and slips past you, rubbing a hand over your unruly bed head as he goes. The day passes quickly, with lots of interviewing witnesses, following dead-end leads, and bad police station coffee. When Aaron calls it and tells everyone to get some dinner, you all split off into smaller groups—Spencer and Derek go for Chinese, JJ and Emily opt for pizza, and you and Aaron end up at a retro diner with burgers and milkshakes and a plate of fries between you to share.

“I think we should be focusing more on the docks,” you say, dipping a fry in ketchup and taking a bite. “Even if that’s not where the bodies end up, it seems to be where the unsub is meeting with the victims. We could stake it out tonight, maybe. If you want.” You never want to step on his toes, because he is the boss, the leader, even if you’re friends too; you try to be careful how you phrase things, especially in front of other people, because you don’t want your comfort to look like disrespect, however unintentional.

“That’s a good idea. You and I can head down there after this; I’ll let the others know to patrol nearby, in case we need backup.”

He dusts off his fingers and pulls out his phone, types out a text, and you look around the restaurant—the place looks like it was ripped right out of the 50s, with a checkered floor and lots of red vinyl, a shiny jukebox in the corner. Out of place is a flatscreen tv behind the counter; during the day, when it’s busier, it might play news or sports, but you two are the only ones here at the moment, so the staff is hanging out beneath it watching a movie. It’s Titanic, you realize, when the iconic ‘Rose floating on a piece of debris’ scene plays, and you snort, take a long drag of your chocolate shake.

“I always hated this part. They could have found a way for him to survive, too. Unnecessary death for the heartache factor,” you say, and Aaron looks up from his phone to the screen, makes a sound of contemplation.

“I always thought it was kind of romantic. When you love someone, you’d do anything for them to be okay, even at your own expense. Even if it’s stupid.” You look over his face, study the features you know like the back of your hand, and you guess you can kind of see that, but you can’t say that, so you just sigh.

“I suppose you think Romeo and Juliet is romantic, too,” you tease, and he looks back at you, rolls his eyes.

“It’s very much of its time; it's a lot harder to suffer a miscommunication like that these days. And there is something to be said for star-crossed lovers—people who shouldn’t be together, for one reason or another, but can’t help but drift close anyway.” You swirl your straw in the metal cup, thinking briefly of how that happens to describe the two of you, and when you look up at him, you think you see a hint of that same thought on his face.

More likely, that’s just wishful thinking.

“I like the sword-fights,” you say to lighten the mood, and he laughs, and you both polish off the rest of your food and then head for the docks.

Two hours in and absolutely nothing has happened, but just when you’re ready to complain, or suggest playing I Spy or something, there’s movement from one of the shipping containers to your right. You nudge Aaron, point to the container, and you both creep closer, trying to make out the situation.

When you’re just around the corner, it’s clearly two men fighting, but you obviously don’t know if this is your unsub, two random guys having it out on the docks, or what, so you mutually agree to wait until you have some kind of sign that this is your guy. When one of them pulls out a hunting knife that looks vaguely similar to your murder weapon—as close as you can tell in the dark, anyway—you raise your guns and identify yourselves as FBI.

The unsub drops the knife, but fists his hands in the other guy’s jacket, manhandles him to the edge of the dock, and shoves him into the water, then jumps as well. You swear, and Aaron takes off his jacket, throws it on the ground, then his phone on top of it, and looks back at you.

“Stay here and call for backup,” he instructs, and then he jumps in too; you call the team from your comms, get a response from Emily, and then toss your phone onto Aaron’s jacket and follow him.

He, of course, went for the victim first, so you look for the unsub, who is not visible above the water. You completely submerge yourself, feeling for more than looking for him, because the water is cloudy on a good day and pitch black at ten o’clock at night; when you pop your head up for air, you see Aaron getting the victim up onto the dock, and the unsub bobbing a bit further out. You swim to him, limbs aching, and he seems to know it’s time to give up.

He’s winded, gasping for breath, so you keep him above the water to your own detriment, dragging him by his wet jacket instead of cuffing him, because you’re not trying to kill the guy or lug his unconscious body back to shore. You just barely keep your own head above water most of the time, coming up for big gulps of air when absolutely necessary.

You finally make it to the dock, and your team has arrived, so Derek pulls him out of the water, makes sure he’s alright, and puts some cuffs on him. Aaron’s hands are on you right after, getting you up on the dock, wrapping a towel around your shoulders.

Despite the warm spring breeze, the water was freezing, and you can feel your teeth chattering. He rubs your arms for warmth, crouches down to look you seriously in the eyes.

“Thought I told you to stay here,” he says with an arched brow, a scowl you can tell is more concerned than angry. You wet your frozen lips and try your best to smile.

“You jump, I jump, Jack.”

He looks at you like you’re an idiot, but fondly, if that’s possible, then hugs you so tightly, guides your face to press against his warm neck. How he’s not teetering on the edge of hypothermia is anyone’s guess.

“Your lips are practically blue. Stupid,” he murmurs, but his mouth dusts over your temple in what is unmistakably a kiss, and when you’re able to feel your lips again, you reciprocate, press them a little harder against his throat while you shiver in his arms.

It doesn’t mean anything except I’m happy we’re both alive. Probably.

That night in bed, he faces the wall, and you stare at the ceiling, but you wake up with your nose against the back of his neck. The way he’s breathing tells you he’s not asleep, and when you wrap your arms around him, he holds them tight. Things don’t change after Pittsburgh, and that’s okay. You are comfortable with the way things are, and you love what you have—lunches under the oak tree, the exchange of books, late night texts when you both can’t sleep, hands brushing when you walk to the parking garage, glances shared across the jet. All those things make it easy not to focus on what you don’t have, what you’re not even sure Aaron would want anyway.

You exchange books again on Friday at lunch: he hands you Beloved by Toni Morrison, a book you already know and adore, and you hand him Ravished by Amanda Quick.

“Dubbed the Beast of Blackthorne Hall for his scarred face and lecherous past, Gideon,” Aaron shoots you a glance—“that’s purely coincidental”—“was strong and fierce and notoriously menacing. Yet Harriet could not find it in her heart to fear him. For in his tawny gaze she sensed a savage pain she longed to soothe... and a searing passion she yearned to answer.”

You hold back a smile.

“It’s a modern retelling of a classic story—Beauty and the Beast,” you add, taking a bite of your sandwich. He looks you over like there’s something he wants to say, but he just tucks it under his arm and steals a piece of melon from your lunch.

“I have Jack this weekend, so I probably won’t get to read much, but it sounds intriguing.”

“Well I hope you like it when you read it. Tell him I said hi; it’s been too long since I saw him. I bet he’s looking more like you every day,” you say, popping a piece of melon into your mouth. He smiles softly.

“A little, but Haley says she sees her father in him, and I have to agree. We may have to wait a few years until he looks like me; he’s too cute for that now.” He doesn’t sound self-deprecating, just fond, but you can’t let a comment like that stand, regardless.

“You’re cute; the difference is that kids are cute all the time. You’re an adult, so sometimes you’re handsome, sometimes you’re cute, sometimes you’re hot… it can be hard to reconcile.” This time, he looks you over with something light and playful in his eyes, and it’s something you want to explore, but the timer on your phone goes off, indicating that lunch is over, so you just exhale softly and pack up your things.

You don’t talk much after that—his Fridays are usually busy with meetings, and he leaves in a hurry to pick up Jack, which is understandable.

Emily, JJ, and Penelope invite you out for drinks and dinner—“because we know Hotch is busy,” Penelope says, which has literally nothing to do with your weekend plans, but you don’t correct them—so you don’t linger either.

You go out for Italian, so you are sleepy and full of wine and pasta by the end of the evening, and you smile at your friends.

“Thanks for inviting me out tonight, guys. I had a really good time.”

“Of course,” Emily says, taking her last sip of Pinot Noir. “We barely see you anymore; it was long overdue.”

“Definitely,” you agree. “I should really try to drag my ass out of bed more often.” You can’t help it, though, that after a long day, your bed and a good book just call your name. You’ve always been introverted in that way. JJ laughs softly, chin in her palm, elbow on the table.

“Honeymoon phase. Give it another couple months and you’ll be past that.” You do have a new memory foam mattress that has made sinking into the pillows and blankets all that more indulgent, but you didn’t think JJ knew about that. And you’ve never heard of a honeymoon phase for a mattress before.

“Eh, I don’t think so. There’s literally nothing more satisfying on this earth.” The three of them exchange an amused look, but your phone vibrates, and that catches your attention; you smile when it’s Aaron, sending you a photo of Jack with a toothy grin and his hands covered in fingerpaint. You look up to the sound of chairs scraping against the floor.

“Alright, we’ve lost her. See you all Monday,” Emily says, pulling you in for a hug; when she steps back, she smiles. “And tell Hotch we said hi.”

“I will,” you promise as you hug the other two. You hang back a moment, type out a reply—Looks like you’re having lots of fun without me!—and get into your car to head home.

You change into comfy clothes, drink a glass of water, and climb into bed with Beloved, and at around 9:30 you receive a reply.

Having the most fun we can without you. Maybe next time Jack is over, we can tempt you with dinosaur chicken nuggets and fingerpaint?

You smile, the happiest you’ve been all night—and that’s saying something, because you really did have a great time—and send back, It’s a date. Come Monday, you’re feeling pretty good, well-rested and relaxed from probably too much time in bed, but Aaron looks upset when he walks into the morning meeting. He keeps it short and sweet, and everyone disperses quickly, giving you sympathetic looks as you hang back to try to have a word with him. He clears off the white board, tidies up the table that doesn’t need tidying, and you place a hand on his back, gentle and comforting. He sighs, and you can feel the tension leave him almost instantly.

“Hey. What’s bothering you?” you ask softly, leaning around to try to catch his expression; he looks tired, sad, and maybe a little conflicted, leans into your touch.

“Taking Jack back to Haley’s was rough last night; it always is, but yesterday was really bad.” You know a little about this from weekends past, how Jack always cries when Aaron has to leave, how he feels terrible about it for the rest of the evening, but it must have been extreme for him to still be so upset. “And Haley…” He sighs again, runs his hand through his hair. “It’s like it’s one step forward, two steps back with her sometimes.”

“Why don’t we go sit in your office and you can tell me more?” You want to continue discussing this—that’s what friends are for, and he’s clearly in a bad state emotionally, you think it could help—but he just shakes his head.

“No, I… it’s okay. I don’t want to weigh you down with my problems.” You take your hand off his back, lean a hip against the table and look up at him.

“I’m not just your friend when it’s all easy breezy, lunch in the sunshine, talking about our favorite books,” you say with a sad smile; he reciprocates a little, which is more than you expected. “I’m here when things are complicated, when you have bad days, too. The Monday blues especially.” One of his hands rests on the table, and you cover it with yours, lean in to press your forehead to his shoulder. “Let me be here, okay? Even if all you need me to do is listen.”

It takes a moment, and his eyes are wet when he finally responds; he inhales deeply, nods, and brushes his free hand over your head in something of a hug, murmurs a rough, “okay.”

You sit in his office for an hour—which, again, is more than you expected—listening to him talk about his weekend with Jack, how heartbreaking it was to take him back to Haley’s, how he tried talking to her about taking him more often and she just wasn’t sure she could trust him to do what he says he’ll do. He understands where she’s coming from, knows he’s been unable to keep his word in the past, thinks he doesn’t deserve the benefit of the doubt; he hasn’t asked for advice, seems to just want to vent, so you just listen.

“Then I mentioned you, that you might come for dinner next time he’s over, and she was worried about that,” he says, exasperated, and you frown.

“Why would she worry about that? I’ve been around him lots of times.” It doesn't make sense, because Haley has always been nothing but sweet to you; Aaron looks up at your question, and it seems a little like maybe he hadn’t meant to say that part, though you can’t imagine why.

“It’s just different now… because he’s older,” he says after a brief moment of hesitation. “She doesn’t want him getting attached to someone who might not always be around, you know.” You sigh softly, because if that’s all it is…

You lean forward, take his hand, squeeze it tight.

“I’m always going to be around, Aaron. I can talk to her, if you want, tell her that.”

“No, it’s—you don’t have to do that.” He squeezes your hand back, closes his eyes for a beat. “Just hearing you say it, it makes things easier. I’ll talk to her again next time.”

You talk a little more, and he seems a lot better afterward, even if he is a bit less expressive during lunch; you figure any progress is good, but it makes you sad to see him so down, so naturally, you formulate a plan to help get him back to the Aaron you know and love.

At the end of the day, when he makes his way to the bullpen, you spin around in your chair, take him by the sleeve.

“You’re coming home with me tonight,” you say in no uncertain tone of voice. “For a few hours. I’ll bring you back for your car.” He agrees with a fond look, and you lose yourself in the expression for a moment, then stand up, grab your things, and walk with him out to the garage.

Rush hour traffic is what it is, and you leave Aaron in charge of the music, which means you get The Beatles and The Who, Rolling Stones and Neil Diamond, and you’re both singing along and so much happier by the time you pull into the parking lot of the bodega nearest your apartment.

“Just running in for provisions—be right back,” you say with a grin, and when you return with two paper bags of loot, he looks at you like you might be his favorite person in the world with an age in the double digits. It’s a look you love putting on his face.

“Do I get to see what provisions you’ve acquired?” he asks, teasing, but you shake your head and tell him he’ll see it when you get there.

With a pit stop in your apartment to grab a blanket and a few throw pillows, you take him up to the roof and get things ready for your makeshift picnic. There is white wine, still mostly chilled; cubed cheese, far from gourmet but no less delicious; crusty french bread that was fresh this morning but at this hour is a little extra crusty; blueberries, because they didn’t have grapes; dark chocolate, because you share a fondness for it; and paper cups for the wine.

Aaron takes a look at your bounty, spread over the blanket, and smiles the first real smile you’ve seen all day.

“Fancy,” he teases, and he takes off his jacket, gets on the ground with you. You pour each of you some wine, pop a blueberry in your mouth.

“No, but I thought a meal—and I do call it that loosely—under the stars might do you some good.” You lift your paper cup and tap it against his, brush your fingers over his hand. “To the best boss, best dad, best friend I could ask for.” You take a sip, but he doesn’t at first, watches you with something simmering behind his eyes.

“Do I get to make a toast?” he asks after a few beats, and you smile, nod, and hold up your cup. “To the only person stupid enough to jump into a freezing cold river after me. To the only person I would consider eating a bodega dinner with. To the only person who sees me the way you do.” You both take a sip, which is hard to swallow around the lump in your throat. He looks into your eyes, then breaks the dark chocolate into slivers and hands you a piece like he didn’t just say the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to you before.

You eat, and talk, and drink, and when you’re done with dinner you put everything back in the bags and lay back on the blanket, side by side, and stare up at the stars. The moon is high and full, shining while the stars twinkle around it, and you can’t think of a single time you’ve ever felt more at peace.

“This was really perfect,” Aaron says, almost a whisper, after about twenty minutes of companionable silence. “I can’t thank you enough for being there for me today.” You turn to face him, hands curled up under your chin, and he turns toward you as well. He’s so handsome in the moonlight your heart almost aches.

“You don’t have to thank me. I just wanted to see you happy.” You feel your eyes well up with tears, because he deserves to be happy; you sigh, blink them away, and he leans in and presses his lips to your forehead, rests them there for a long time. When he eventually pulls back, you bring a hand to his hair, brush it back at his temple, and then the creaking of the door makes you pull back, sit up.

It’s your neighbor from 422, who you’ve seen on the roof a handful of times, sneaking away from his wife to smoke a cigarette. He squints in the dark, recognizes you, and waves.

“Hey, 418! You’re not alone tonight.” Aaron sits up too, and you laugh softly.

“Nope, but we were just leaving. The roof is all yours.” Aaron stands, pulls you up, and you grab the blanket and pillows while he grabs the bags, and the two of you head back down to your place.

It’s after ten when you get the groceries put away, and you stand next to Aaron in your small kitchen, contemplating what you want to say next. Your mouth betrays your brain, says what you’ve been thinking but weren’t quite sure how to approach.

“It’s late; I know I said I’d take you back to your car, but you could stay here if you want. I have a spare toothbrush, and I know you have a spare suit at the office, and it’s not like it’s the first time we’ve shared a bed before.”

You’d completely understand if he’d rather go home—you hate when your plans are changed at the last minute, and you prefer to do your full nightly routine for your sanity’s sake—but he only nods, and you lead your way to the bedroom, show him the master bath.

You are in your pajamas, tucked into bed, when he comes out in his boxers and undershirt; he hangs up his suit in your closet where you’d left him some space, then climbs in beside you. He looks over at you, then past you, at your nightstand, which has a stack of books on it—none of them romance novels. You grin, busted after months of book exchanges, and he leans over you to look at the titles.

“Persuasion, To Kill A Mockingbird, One Hundred Years of Solitude—Beloved.” He looks from your copy of the novel to his, which you hold in your hands, and you shrug sheepishly.

“I like reading the notes you put in the margins,” you say meekly, hoping he’s not angry, but all he does is laugh.

“Let me guess: you don’t actually like romance novels.” He leans back against your pillow, and so do you, resting the book on your lap.

“I mean, I don’t not like them… but I’ve been buying those just for you.” The smile on his face is brilliant, and only makes you yearn for him more; things you have been purposefully not feeling are flooding your heart and mind and body now, with him so close, laughing over this stupid secret you’ve been hiding for so long. “And you, sweet man that you are, have been reading them, and discussing them.” You put your hand on his shoulder, and he ducks his head to laugh again.

“Since we’re being honest… I didn’t read all of them. I tried,” he says when you act offended, shoving the shoulder you’re resting against, “but some of them were so bad. I just flipped through, found something I thought could pass as my favorite part, and hoped to hell you didn't ask too many questions.”

You both laugh until you’re breathless—he is so different from how he was this morning it makes you want to cry—and when your laughter dies down you look at each other, sharing breath, two heads on one pillow; is it any wonder you bridge the distance, pull him close for a warm, gentle kiss?

When you break the kiss, you are instantly worried about what Aaron will do—you aren’t drunk, aren’t even tipsy, so you know he can’t be, so much bigger and more solid than you, but will he think it’s a mistake? He kissed back, you’re pretty sure, but maybe that was an accident, something done on autopilot—

He leans in for a second kiss, mouth deceptively soft, and you curl your arm around his back, press into it with lips desperate not to let this end now that it’s started. When you separate, you are both looking into each other’s eyes again, breathing a bit heavily, and you meet in the middle for a third kiss, the best kiss you’ve ever had in your life.

That kiss ends when you yawn in his face, and he chuckles softly, leans over and switches off your bedside lamp; you smile at the ceiling, and he wraps his arms around you, presses his lips to your shoulder, and tells you good night. The next day, the two of you arrive at work early so he can shower and change into his fresh clothes without anyone on the team noticing—not that you think they would really care, but they’re nosy, and a little annoying, so you both agree that’s probably for the best.

You don’t talk about the kisses, even though they’ve been the only thing running through your mind since they happened; you promise to discuss it at lunch, though, and that’s such a sweet, romantic prospect that you think you prefer it better that way anyway.

Only, you don’t ever get to lunch, because there’s an urgent case in Minneapolis, an all hands on deck situation, meaning even Penelope joins you on the jet. You debrief on the flight, hunker down in the conference room, and split up to cover more ground; you barely get to speak to Aaron the whole time you’re there except to be given instructions and to fill him on what, if anything, you’ve learned.

You don’t even make it to your hotel that night, working around the clock to catch the people responsible for terrorizing the city. It takes not one, but almost two full days, and when you board the jet on Wednesday evening, everyone is dead on their feet. You barely remember the flight or the trip home, and you fall onto your bed fully clothed and crash just like that.

Thursday is your birthday, which you almost forgot, and so you assumed everyone else would too. You should have known better, because even if your team can be annoying, they are still your friends, and they love you, so you are well and truly spoiled.

You are treated to a latte and bagels from Emily, purple cupcakes with silver sprinkles from Penelope, a piggy back ride from Derek, a book of poetry you’ve had your eye on from Spencer, and a card from JJ—really, it turns out, from all of them.

“Enjoy a romantic getaway on us?” There’s some kind of certificate in the card, and when you flip it over, you discover that it’s for a hotel and spa that offers couples massages, mud baths, intimate aromatherapy? You arch a brow. “Uh, thanks, guys. Are you trying to tell me something here?” JJ’s face falls a little and she points to the card.

“It’s a romantic getaway. For you and Hotch? Since things have been so hectic lately,” she says, but your ears are kind of ringing and your brain is stuck on the for you and Hotch part.

“Oh. Um. Sorry—it’s just kind of soon, I think? How do you guys even know about that?” you murmur. The two of you haven’t had time to discuss Monday yet, and you haven’t spoken a word to anyone; you wouldn’t have guessed Aaron would have either, but there is a gift certificate for a romantic getaway in your hands, and you’re kind of spiraling.

“Well come on, we haven’t exactly been pretending we don’t know,” Emily says, and you can feel the confusion in your features when you look up at her. “And you guys haven’t been exactly secretive. We’re happy for you, though.”

“I mean, we haven’t been secretive, but we haven’t really had a chance to talk about it yet. It’s only been three days.” You are met with looks similar to the one on your own face.

“What do you mean, three days?” Spencer asks with a frown. “You and Hotch have been dating for almost two months. Right?” he says, looking at the others, and they nod, but it’s tentative. Your first reaction is to flush, and you close the card, fan your face with it.

“You guys think… You guys thought…” You look at them, then up at Aaron’s office; there’s no way he can know that you’re having a moment, but he chooses then to come downstairs, coincidentally. He’s smiling at first, but it falls when he looks at your face.

“Hey. Is everything okay?” He presses a cool hand to your hot cheek, flicks his eyes over yours, and JJ makes a noise; when you glance over at her, she’s gesturing between the two of you.

“I’m sorry, we were wrong? What were we supposed to think?” Aaron frowns, not following, and you take a deep breath.

“They got me a gift certificate for my birthday. To a spa. For you and I to have a romantic getaway, because they were under the assumption we’ve been dating… for two months.” The way he pulls back quickly makes your stomach ache a little, but you say nothing. You should have known.

“You say I love you,” Derek begins like he’s listing evidence. “You have lunch together every day. You’re always smiling at each other.”

“Seriously, some of the softest, gooiest smiles I’ve ever seen,” Penelope adds.

“You eat together on cases, you’re texting all the time when you’re not together.”

“I’ve been pairing the two of you up in hotels since I first figured out you were dating,” JJ says, and the whole ‘you’re welcome’ thing suddenly makes some sense. “I booked you that room with just the one bed so you’d maybe feel more comfortable about us knowing, so you’d see that we don’t mind.”

“You’re always looking at each other, always touching,” Spencer says. “In Pittsburgh—that was the first time you really hugged or kissed each other in front of us. We were trying to pretend it wasn’t a big deal, but it was kind of a big deal.”

You look over at Aaron, try to gauge his reaction, but for the first time in a long time you can’t tell what he’s feeling. You can’t really tell what you’re feeling, either. Sadness. Worry. Loss? But what have you lost?

“We’re friends,” you say, even if it sounds weak to your own ears. “We’re… close.”

“We wouldn’t exactly make sense as a couple, would we?” Aaron asks rhetorically, and your heart clenches when he says that. He told you this morning that he’d made dinner plans for you, both for your birthday and to discuss the kisses, what they mean, where you go from here, but that doesn’t sound very promising anymore. “We’re just—”

“Star-crossed,” you say, but you feel like your eyes are vacant. You can hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You’re stupid for kissing him, for letting yourself think he could feel the same way you feel, have felt for a while. Isn’t friendship enough? Don’t you already have this special bond so unlike what you have with anyone else in your life? Why press your luck? You know better than that. “We should get back to work.”

You don’t look at Aaron, so you don’t know whether or not he looks at you. JJ does, and you can tell she knows you’re upset, but she just nudges everyone on their way, and you take a seat at your desk—it’s covered in balloons and streamers, the Penelope special.

You’ve never felt less like celebrating.

At lunchtime, Aaron stops at your desk, and the two of you walk out to the bench, open your bags in silence. You’re almost halfway through the hour before he tries to speak.

“Uh. I. About earlier,” he finally gets out, looking down at his sandwich, and you shake your head even though he’s not watching you.

“It’s fine. We don’t have to.” You take a bite of your salad even though you don’t taste it. “You’re right, it doesn’t make sense. You are who you are,” smart, sweet, handsome, tender, caring, “and I am who I am.” Too quiet, too young, too impulsive, too silly, too emotional. He nods, looks at your face for the first time in a while, swallows.

“Right.” You’re due to exchange books back—his is on your lap, yours is on his—and he picks them both up. “I’m like this,” he says, holding up Beloved. “Faded cover, dog-eared pages, scribbles in the margins: middle-aged, divorced, a little broken, barely holding it together for the kid I don’t get to spend enough time with. You’re like this,” he says, holding up Ravished. “Fresh and glossy and shiny and new, with your whole life ahead of you, the whole world ahead of you. You could do anything, with anyone.”

You frown, because this is not what you meant, at all. How could he think that about himself, when the well-loved cover and the dog-eared pages and the scribbles in the margins are all the best parts of him?

“Aaron,” you say, but it sounds like pleading; you reach out to put your hands on his arms, but he pulls them back. His eyes are rimmed red, lips pressed together to hold back everything he’s not saying.

“I think lunch is almost over.” He packs up his things, leaves you with tears in your eyes and a wilted salad and a brand new romance novel you’re never going to read.

Later, he cancels dinner, says something came up, and you go home to your empty bed and watch Titanic and bawl your eyes out when Rose tells Jack she’ll never let go. Friday, you get another case. Weekend cases are no one’s favorite, but especially not yours, when you desperately needed that buffer of time away from Aaron to sort out your feelings and get back to some sense of normalcy. Instead, you’re flying to a small town outside of Nashville to catch a serial arsonist, and when you get to your hotel, you and Aaron are sharing a room.

At least there are two beds, this time.

You go with Emily and Spencer to a crime scene, walking around a house that was once picture perfect and is now all charred wood and ash, and you quickly tell yourself to get a grip and not look for metaphors for your own life while trying to solve a case. What kind of investigator are you? Pathetic, apparently.

You work until evening, and when it’s time to break for dinner, you buy a sad looking assortment of items from the police station vending machine and eat in the conference room by yourself.

It’s a good thing you do, because they get a call about the fire while everyone is still away, and you and a few locals are the first on the scene.

It doesn’t start out bad, mostly located in the back of the house, but you know how quickly these things can spread, and the fire department is working hard to put it out. One of the officers is talking to the family, and the mother is crying, so you come closer to figure out why.

“She said the daughter was supposed to be staying at a friend’s, but sometimes she changes her mind at the last minute and comes home. She can’t get ahold of her,” the officer says, and you nod, thinking.

“Where would she be? The front or the back?”

“Her room is in the front, second floor; if she’s here, that’s where she’d be,” the mother says, wiping her eyes with a tissue, and you tell the officer to stay with them, that you’ll take care of it. You talk to the firefighters—this town is so small there are only two that were able to respond, and they’re both busy trying to put out the fire, but they clear you to go in if you stick to the front of the building and get out of there as fast as you can.

Your team isn’t here yet either, too far out for comms to be effective, and you can’t get ahold of Aaron, so you make a judgement call and head inside.

The front of the house is so eerily normal it’s almost easy to calm your nerves and pretend the back isn’t in the process of being destroyed. You open the front door, run up the staircase, and call out for the girl; she answers, not from the front of the house, but the back—a bathroom maybe? Flames lick up the wall beside it, but you can get to the knob, and she comes rushing out, into your arms, terrified. You weren't expecting that, and you both fall back: your head hits off the floor, but she seems okay, so you tell her to run out the front door and find her mom.

You press a hand to the back of your head, and it comes back tacky with blood. There’s ringing in your ears for a couple of minutes, and then your favorite voice in the world comes through.

“Where are you? We’re here, where are you?” You’re getting hotter, and when you crane your neck up, you can see why: the fire is getting closer, creeping toward the staircase, creeping toward you. You inhale, cough, and press your walkie button.

“I’m upstairs in the hall; hit my head. It’s not safe.”

“I’m coming for you.” You groan. Stubborn man.

“It’s not safe, Aaron.” You hear the crackle of static, hope maybe he heard your warning and will wait until more firefighters arrive—but knowing him the way you do, that’s just wishful thinking. His voice rings out again, and despite the pain, you can’t help but smile.

“You jump, I jump, Jack. Just stay put; I’ll be right there.” You close your eyes, drift in and out of consciousness; when you see him, all you can think is how ridiculously in love with him you are, and that you really hope you’ll be around to tell him. You are, of course, fine. Your head is the worst of it, even the smoke inhalation was mild, and the fire didn’t touch you, so there are no burns. Aaron doesn’t leave your side the entire time you’re being checked over, looks serious and concerned, though he smiles when the mother comes over and squeezes you so tightly you wince a little. It starts to rain, making the firefighters' jobs a little easier, and it feels oddly cleansing, after the day you’ve had. Someone offers you an umbrella, but you decline.

The fire is successfully put out, and the half of your team that didn’t respond to the scene responded to a call for suspicious activity, which ends up being your unsub. You are all happy no one was killed this time, and since you’re staying the night again, the group decides to grab a drink to celebrate. You don’t have a concussion, but your head still aches, so you pass, and Aaron passes with you.

You head to the hotel, park in the lot, but you don’t even make it halfway across before you stop, a hand on his arm.

“I need to say something,” you tell him, and he looks up at the dark sky like, right here? Right now?, even though you’re both already drenched. You nod, because if you don’t do this now you might never—almost dying always gives you an unhealthy amount of confidence, which you attribute to equal amounts of adrenaline and stupidity. “When we first met, I didn’t think we’d have a lot in common. We’re both quiet, but in wildly different ways, and I’m quick to trust and let people in while your guard is almost never down.”

He looks a little sad at that, and you realize you’re kind of doing what he did, putting the two of you into completely different categories, emphasizing the ways you don’t belong together. But that’s dumb, so you don’t give him time to focus on that for long.

“But being your friend, Aaron—the more time I spent with you, the more I came to feel like no one has ever understood me the way you do. No one has ever seen me the way you do.” Rain is pouring down all around you, beating against the pavement, flattening your hair against your head, but you don’t care. Regardless of his reaction, this is actually kind of perfect. “I didn’t mean to fall in love with you—that was an accident, I admit. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You step closer to him, put your hands on his waist; he doesn’t pull away. “I don’t need shiny, glossy things; you're the one I want—faded cover, dog-eared pages, notes in the margins. I love you exactly as you are.”

He is gorgeous in the rain, water in his hair, dripping off his nose. His expression looks hopeful, and you pray to god that’s not wishful thinking.

“Say something, anything,” you beg, anticipation killing you, and he presses his hands to your cheeks and pulls you close for a deep, passionate, soulful kiss that says it all.

The words are nice to hear, though.

“I didn’t mean to fall in love with you either,” he breathes against your lips when the kiss breaks. “I told myself it was just a crush, because someone so young and beautiful was paying so much attention to me, treating me like more than just the guy giving orders. But the more time I spent with you, the more undeniable it became. You are everything good about the world—bright, optimistic, caring, funny, sweet. How could anyone not fall in love with you?”

You swallow hard, lean up to press your lips against his again.

“When you said we wouldn’t make sense as a couple…” He shakes his head.

“That was just me chickening out. After we kissed, I was all but ready to ask you to go steady,” he says, and you both smile, because he’s such an old fashioned dork, but god, do you love him. “And then we found out that the team thought we’d been together for months, and you looked freaked out, so I freaked out. I’m sorry. I should have made us talk about it sooner.”

“Classic pointless miscommunication,” you say with a laugh, and he chuckles too, kisses you again.

“Let’s go inside and get dried off; there’s a birthday gift in my bag I’ve been meaning to give you.” He takes your hand, and you head up, duck into the bathroom to change into dry clothes, squeeze the water out of your hair. There is a small, flat, wrapped present on your bed when you emerge, and you smile, sink down to open it.

It’s Romeo and Juliet, a brand new copy, but when you flip through it, there are blue inked notes in the margins. Aaron comes to sit beside you, touches your face like you’re something precious.

“The course of true love never did run smooth,” he murmurs, and you smack him on the arm with the book.

“That’s from A Midsummer Night's Dream, and I know you know that,” you say with a grin. He nods in admission, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, lean in for a warm, loving kiss. When you pull back, it’s with a soft smile. “Give me my sin again?”

“My pleasure,” he whispers, and you sink into his embrace and promise never to let go. The following week, you both leave work at noon on Friday so you can enjoy your romantic getaway. You drive to the spa, and Aaron reads over the brochure on his phone with a tone you find hilarious.

“Mud bath—I’m not bathing in mud. That’s counterintuitive.”

“It’s special mud; more like clay,” you say, but he snorts, scrolls.

“Seaweed wrap—nobody is wrapping me in seaweed. That sounds like a nightmare.” You laugh softly and take your exit.

“It’s supposed to be rejuvenating. JJ recommended it.”

“JJ weighs fifty pounds. It would take all the seaweed in the Atlantic to wrap me,” he says, and you roll your eyes, jab your finger into his ribs.

“But what if I get to unwrap you?” you ask, eyebrows raised; you briefly glance over and he makes a face of contemplation.

“Okay, that’s a maybe. Intimate aromatherapy—what does that even mean?”

“I think it means we do something that makes us smell good and then we go back to our room and kiss and stuff.”

“Now that doesn’t sound half bad,” he murmurs. “Foot massage? I’m not letting a stranger touch my feet, that’s weird.” You look over at him, squinting.

“You literally plugged someone’s bullet wound with your finger yesterday, but someone touching your feet is where you draw the line? Will you do anything on the list?” He scrolls down it, and his extended silence makes you laugh.

“Meditation. Couples massage,” he says, reaching over to rest a hand on your thigh. “There’s a sauna.” You think of him, sweat-drenched in a fluffy white towel, and take a deep, calming breath. “I bet the room is nice; did you bring a book?” You smile indulgently, reach out a hand to brush through his hair.

“Yep. It’s called A Duke’s Wild Kiss…” He gives you a mildly withering look, and you lightly tap the bridge of his nose. “Just kidding. I brought To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf.” His answering smile is brilliant.

“Are you serious?” You nod, and he gestures to the backseat, where your bags are. “That’s what I brought, too.”

You spend too much of your romantic getaway in your room, but it is really nice; you do the couples massage, though, and aromatherapy, and the sauna, and then you take turns giving each other a foot massage while the other reads To the Lighthouse out loud.

The world probably doesn’t deserve Aaron Hotchner; you definitely don’t, but somehow you get to keep him anyway. A/N: Though I snuck in a few parts of a few different lyrics, two lines in particular inspired this fic: 'Now I've read all of the books beside your bed' and 'I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this.' A lot of my fics lately have incorporated books... guess I better get reading!

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner

[reidingmelodies]

Finders Keepers

A/N:  It’s been ages since I’ve written anything, so I figured it was about time I got back into it!  Hope you enjoy, any feedback is appreciated :) Warnings: None Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.7K

“What’s wrong with you, Pretty Boy?” Morgan questioned as Spencer rushed into the BAU Tuesday morning, fingers threading through his curls and a look of pure agitation gracing his features.  As if he didn’t hear the question directed towards him, Spencer continued to storm through the room, nearly stumbling into Morgan in his quest to reach his desk.

Pupils dilating, Morgan looked towards JJ who had taken stock of the scene from her chair, brows already furrowed and legs moving to stand and head towards her fellow colleague.

Taking the lead, JJ swiftly headed to Spencer’s side, moving to place a hand on his shoulder before thinking better of it and placing both hands on the edge of his desk instead, Mama Bear instincts dialed all the way up.  “Everything okay, Spence?  You seem annoyed.”  

Morgan scoffed before thinking better of it, “I’d say he’s a bit more than annoyed, JJ”.  No sooner than the words had left his mouth he was given a swift elbow in his side from JJ and an eye roll from Spencer and all that was left for Morgan to do was raise his hands in defeat.

Sighing, Spencer turned back to his desk before mumbling a response back to them, “I’m fine, guys.  I think I lost my copy of War and Peace on the Metro this morning.  It was in my bag when I left my place, it must have fallen out when I was trying to grab my umbrella.  I thought maybe I just forgot and left it here, but apparently not”.

“You and I both know you don’t forget anything, Pretty Boy,” Morgan chimed in, visibly less tense now that he knew there wasn’t any immediate danger.

“Actually Morgan that’s not entirely true.  I have an eidetic memory which means-”

“There’s the Reid we all know and love,” JJ chuckled, heading back to her desk to get ready for the day ahead of them.  Morgan followed, leaving the bullpen in search of Garcia and Spencer sighed, trying to move past the fact that one of his favorite books was no longer in his possession.  Logically, he knew he could buy a replacement copy after work, but deep down he knew it wasn’t the same.

The words dancing across the page would be the same ones that brought him entertainment and the comfort found in familiarity throughout his life, but the book within his hands wouldn’t hold the same nostalgic memories.  He wouldn’t look down at the tattered cover and reminisce on his first jet ride with the BAU, thinking back on how he brushed his fingers against the book’s familiar spine while trying to calm his stomach filled with nervous jitters at the prospect of working with unfamiliar people.  He wouldn’t look at the dog-eared pages and remember how the words on those exact pages brought him comfort on nights he would escape to his bedroom and try to leave memories of aggressive classmates and whispering peers behind.  

Any thought of potentially buying a new copy of the book after the workday was dispelled though as Garcia called everyone into the conference room to discuss a pending case in Phoenix, no sooner followed by a “wheels up in thirty” announcement from Hotch.  Grabbing his go-bag and leaving the bullpen, Spencer filled his head with thoughts of the case, half of his brain racing ahead to connect victimology and significant locations while the other half was stuck repeating a never-ending mantra of “it’s just a book” in the back of his mind.

***

As Spencer was boarding a jet to head 468 miles north, Y/N was playing with a loose thread on her sweater, thinking about the long day of work ahead of her.  Breaking her trance, she looked up and instead glanced up at the now empty row of seats in front of her.  Her brows furrowed as she saw a book stuck in the crack between the far left seat cushion and the back of the chair, and before she knew it her curiosity overtook her.  Y/N found herself standing from the seat, travel mug and bag in tow, before reaching for the dictionary-like book that was calling to her.  The title War and Peace glared back at her, and a quick turn of the cover revealed faded words written in blue ink proclaiming that the book was the “Property of Spencer Reid”.   With the announcement of her stop blaring over the loudspeaker and the weight of someone else’s book in their hand, Y/N made a split second decision to stuff the book into her bag, leaving the Metro with not only thoughts of the upcoming workday but visions of whom the mysterious Spencer Reid could be.

The workday passed by slowly, each passing second filled with the overwhelming desire to search for Spencer Reid on Google.  By the time Y/N was on the Metro ride home, any and all motivation to search for the book’s rightful owner went out the door as her irritation grew with the rising heat of the increasingly packed subway car.  Needing a distraction, her hand reached into her bag, initially moving for her cell phone but making a last second switch as her hand brushed the spine of the book.  May as well spend my time doing something productive, she thought as she gently pulled the book out of it’s temporary home.  With a final sigh, she turned to the first page and began to read.

As Y/N was tearing through the pages of War and Peace at an alarmingly quicker rate than she anticipated that night, Spencer was filling out a WMTA lost and found form in the hopes that someone had the decency to return his book.  Knowing his luck, he assumed it was long gone and in the trash somewhere, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt to make one last ditch effort at finding it.  Groaning, Spencer called it a night and went to bed, silently vowing to find his book the second he stepped foot off the BAU jet again.        

***

Six days later the BAU team landed in Quantico, making plans to head to a bar for a drink before a well deserved day off.  As designated drivers were assigned and phone calls home were made Spencer gathered his things, making a beeline to the door in the hopes of reaching the WMTA’s designated lost and found area before it closed for the night.  He was a foot away from the door before a soft hand grasped his wrist, immediately stopping him in his tracks.

“Skipping out on the bar tonight, Reid?” Emily questioned, head tilted as she noticed how frazzled her friend was.

“I’m just gonna go home and watch a bit of Dr.Who” Spencer began, desperately trying to think of something that would let him out the door without further questions.  “Speaking of Dr. Who, did you know that it was originally created to be an educational show for kids?  It’s actually really interesting-”

“Say no more, Dr. Reid,” Emily laughed, letting go of his wrist and heading back towards the others, “enjoy your night”.  Spencer tightly smiled, leaving the bullpen and making his way to downtown DC in search of his book.  An hour later and he wasn’t any closer to finding his book, ultimately giving up and heading to the bookstore to buy himself another copy.

It was at that same time JJ and Derek found themselves hysterically laughing at a corner booth in the bar, thinking about how Spencer probably missed out on meeting the love of his life that night- a woman sitting in the booth directly across from them, War and Peace open on the table in front of her and a pen and highlighter busy at work marking up post its that were being meticulously placed on the book’s pages.

***

A month and a half went by and Spencer had officially given up hope on finding his lost book.  In the six weeks since he had last seen it he refrained from reading his new copy, not willing to give up the small amount of hope he had that he would be reunited with his original book.  That evening though, as the Metro had yet another delay and the subway car continued to get hotter and hotter, he figured there was no better time than the present and pulled out his new copy of War and Peace.  A few pages in, a sudden jolt of the car made him glance up and almost immediately he locked eyes with the woman across from him.  In the span of ten seconds, his thoughts ranged from she’s beautiful to hold on- she’s holding my book and before his legs fully alerted his brain what was happening he found himself on his feet and sitting in the empty seat directly next to her.

As Spencer’s brain began to register just how bad of an idea it was to sit next to a stranger as abruptly as he just did, the woman next to him gripped her bag slightly tighter, tilting her head to the side as she peaked a look at the man next to her.

Her mouth opened to speak, but before she could do so Spencer interrupted her, desperately trying to save himself from any embarrassment her words could bring.

“That’s my book,” he bluntly stated, mentally hitting himself as he watched her adorably confused features morph into a look of defense.

“No.. that’s your book,” she pointed down to his lap, where his new copy of War and Peace was resting between his palms.

“No it’s not- well, it is but it isn’t really?” Spencer tried to explain, his face growing more and more red with each word that left his mouth.

“So it’s your book, but not your book?” She questioned, lips curling up into a slight smile as she witnessed the sweet agitation of the man in front of her.

“Yes!  I lost my book on the metro almost two months ago.  This is just my replacement copy, and I don’t know how I know, but I’m positive the book in your hands right now is the one that I lost.”  Spencer finished his spiel, watching as the woman’s eyes widened in realization and her mouth formed an “o” shape.

“You’re Spencer Reid?” she asked, and now it was his turn to play the part of the confused companion.

“I- yes? But, how do you know my name?” As soon as the question left his mouth the image of the title page of his book filled his head and all too soon he was practically yelling with joy in the poor woman’s face.  “Wait, that is my book then!  Does it say Property of Spencer Reid on the cover page?”

The woman laughed, and Spencer watched as any traces of tension left her body.  “I’m so sorry!  I found it on the Metro on my way to work, and I meant to look you up- not in a creepy way,” she continued, growing more flustered with each passing second.  “I was gonna try and find you to return it but then I started reading it and I liked it more than I thought I would and I just,” She stooped, taking a breath and giving him the most adorable set of puppy dog eyes he’s ever seen.  “I’m just really sorry, I shouldn’t have held onto it as long as I did”.  She finished, and held the book up, holding it out towards Spencer’s hands.  “I think this belongs to you”.

“It’s not a problem at all, I promise,” Spencer reassured her with a warm smile on his face, “thanks for keeping it safe”.  Something about her filled his stomach with joy, and as he looked at her he saw a similar smile mirrored back at him.  It was at that moment he knew he would do anything to keep that look of happiness on her face, stranger or not.  “You know what,” he continued, “you should keep it- finders keepers and all that”.

Y/N laughed in disbelief, immediately shaking her head and pushing the book closer to its rightful owner.  “It’s bad enough I’ve had it this long,” she admitted.  “It belongs with you”.

“At least take this one then?”  Spencer’s brain continued to be a few steps ahead of him, and before he knew it he was taking the book in the stranger’s outstretched hands and placing his new copy in her grasp.  “It looks like you still have a hundred pages or so left and I wouldn’t want to keep you from finishing it.  Besides, I definitely don’t need two copies”.

The woman smiled and gave him an enthusiastic nod, and Spencer couldn’t help but think he just made the best decision of his life.  The speaker above them announced the next stop, and with a sudden jump she left her seat, discarding the new book into her bag and turning towards Spencer on her way to the door.  “Thanks, Spencer!” she exclaimed, “maybe I’ll see you around sometime”.  Another smile was sent his way, and before he earned up the nerve to ask for her name she was gone, disappearing into a growing crowd of commuters desperate to get back to the comfort of their homes and begin the weekend ahead.

***

The following morning, Spencer found himself in his living room with a mug of coffee in his hand, completely lost in his thoughts.  He was trying to calculate the chances of seeing the mystery woman again, considering it took six weeks after losing his book to see her for the first time at all.  

He groaned, inwardly cursing himself for his lack of courage the day before and wishing he at least had a name to match to the face that wouldn’t leave his mind.  As the coffee cooled, he found his gaze wandering to the coffee table where he had laid the book and his satchel the previous night.  With a sigh, Spencer picked up the book only to notice a bright orange post-it sticking out of one of the pages.

“The strongest of all warriors are these two- time and patience” was written in loopy writing, highlighted in yellow with exactly twelve exclamation points in red ink under it.  He was a man of science, but he couldn’t help but feel as though finding one of his favorite quotes from the novel staring up at him was a sign.

As he continued to skim the pages, he found note after note filled with quotes, reactions, and doodles and he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of admiration for the stranger who put them all there.  It was a book that held countless memories for Spencer, but already he could tell that this was going to be his ultimate favorite.  

Backtracking to the front page, Spencer saw his familiar scrawl had been slightly covered by a light blue post it note.  “If this book gets lost a second time I don’t want to make the same mistake as the first guy… please call Y/N at-” Spencer laughed, immediately grabbing his phone to dial the number before he has time to talk himself out of it.

As the phone began to ring, he thought about how he couldn’t picture her name being anything else.  It was as beautiful as she was, and he longed to properly meet the woman who managed to get his heart racing with just a few post-it notes.

“Hello?” the voice on the other end of his phone answered, and Spencer could immediately tell it was the same woman from the subway.

“Hi, is this Y/N?” he began, fingers nervously twiddling together.  At her hum of acknowledgement he continues, “This is Spencer, the guy who’s book you had?  I was just looking through the post-its you left behind and I love the perspective you have on the book.  Plus, it was so nice of you to even hold onto it in the first place so I was wondering if you’d wanna get coffee, maybe?  So I can say thank you for everything and talk about the book with you?”

The opposite end of the phone was silent and Spencer’s face grew red, his hands moving to his hair because how could he possibly think she wanted to meet him, she didn’t even know him and-

“I was hoping you’d find that post-it note,” she giggled, and with the sound all of Spencer’s worries completely washed away.  “Absolutely”.

***

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[yourmidnightlover]

never go back

Summary: spencer notices how your boyfriend takes advantage of you and finally does something about it.

TW: titty sucking, oral (female receiving), cheating, dom!spencer, scratching, slapping (only one), cursing, choking, spencer dirty talk lol, penetrative sex, creampie. *let me know if i missed anything*

WC: 3,724

A/N - i'm using noah as the 'other man' schtick in probably all of my future one shots bc i can't find it within myself to create a new character each and every time. so your douche of a bf will always be noah miller. if you ever get a nice bf i'll be sure to change his name but for now this is what we're working with. got it? got it.

masterlist

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

there are many things that people should go back to. schooling, maybe an old job, an old vacation spot.

your boyfriend was not one of those things.

mostly because your boyfriend sucked.

it was now a fact that spencer reid himself had come to believe quite a while ago and now, well now he had reason.

he had always felt as though you were too good for noah, similar for practically anyone in existence (himself included). he was always a complete ass to you no matter the circumstance.

there was one time the entire team had been back really late from a case that took a toll on all of you. it was emotionally and physically draining. the flight back had been delayed because of weather issues in the state you had been in, meaning you couldn't leave until days after it was solved.

any time you had gone to answer the phone, spencer would be able to see your stance and body language through the glass window. you had been apologizing for something you couldn't even control. you would narrow your brows the way you only did when you were being yelled at. you bit your lip the way you did when you were being made to feel guilty.

he was guilt tripping you for something you couldn't even control.

when you had gotten back it wasn't any better. noah had been giving you the cold shoulder. he was defensive when you asked what was wrong.

and that was only 3 weeks into the relationship.

after being together for 2 months, you had gotten flowers delivered on your desk. you assumed they were from your boyfriend, reasonably so, and went to go thank him. spencer saw the shock in your eyes when you saw your boyfriend huddled in the corner with some new intern. spencer saw the look in your eye change from sadness to anger in the blink of his own.

you took a deep breath, and walked away from the situation, completely missing the way he tucked the intern's hair behind her ear as he leaned in to whisper something to make her giggle. when you got back to your desk you threw the flowers in the garbage can, not even bothering to read the note.

it was pretty indirect, but looking into it he realized it was an issue that should've been addressed. every time the team would go out together, everyone was clearly invited. you would always decline because 'noah wanted to take me out tonight' or 'noah said he needs me, so i'll have to rain check'.

it wasn't because you were a bad person, the opposite actually. it was because noah was taking advantage of your kindness.

because any time you needed him, 'noah's out with the boys' or 'noah had to work late' or, here's a kicker, 'noah had a hard time at work'. as if you don't have a hard time looking at dead bodies while he just has to write up reports.

even when you got injured during a case, shot in the shoulder, noah seemed as though he couldn't have cared less. he wouldn't even go to your apartment to visit you while you were in recovery because 'noah didn't have time to visit'.

spencer could even recall when you went out with the girls one night, spencer being the designated driver, that you had told them how 'noah didn't want you to dress too provocatively so you had to wear something more modest'.

now, spencer doesn't care all to much about what you wear because, frankly, it's none of his business. but now that he heard how noah cared oh-so-much, he decided to wrack his brain for the 'provocative' outfits you've worn. there was not a single one that anyone should make a comment about. you looked stunning no matter what you wore, so you'd grab any man's attention no matter the clothing on your body.

but spencer? he made sure to never be that much of an asshole to you. he made sure to make up for him being an asshole.

he would grab you some morning coffee like you always had before you had a boyfriend. he would make sure to tell you that you looked lovely when you were able to go out with the team. he would visit you when you injured yourself and were lonely, he even stayed back for a few days with you to help you get through it.

hell, he was the one to get you the flowers. you had been having a rough week and spencer thought it might cheer you up. he had gifted you a bouquet of 12, blue chiffon flowers because those were your favorite.

but this was his breaking point. you had come to his apartment, once again in the middle of the night, talking about noah fucking miller cheating on you.

he had done it once before when he was 'out with the boys' you decided to stop by when he said he'd be back, wanting to just be the amazing girlfriend that you are. so when you walk in and hear your boyfriend moaning along with another woman that isn't you, you immediately run back out. you run back out and drive all the way to spencer's.  

and here you are again. spencer wasn't mad at you, it was noah he was mad at. he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

spencer had always liked you, no, he's always loved you. everything about you. how could he not? you're perfect.

but loving you how he does and seeing you being used as a toy to fuck for a certain noah miller not only made his heart ache but also made his blood boil.

spencer wasn't an idiot. he had heard the way the old morgan had referred to women. the thing is, noah is way more of a fuckboy than the old morgan ever was. and that scared spencer to pieces. he knew that you would only be missing out on team outings just to get fucked by a douchebag. he knew that the only reason said douchebag wouldn't visit you was because you couldn't fuck. he knew that the reason said douchebag was cornering that intern was to fuck her, too.

so when you arrived at spencer's place, this time you weren't crying. you were furious. you were angry and upset, as was spencer.

"he did it again, spence," you breathed out as you paced across his living room floor. "i was supposed to meet him in a few hours but i was going to surprise him and i caught him with another tramp! i didn't even confront him. i just- i just left!"

"cheated? noah?" he asked as if he didn't believe it at first, not wanting to seem like as much of a dick as noah.

"yes! cheated. god! i am so ANGRY!" you ran your hand through your hair, a grunt leaving your mouth. "and... and frustrated! and... UGH!" you sighed aggressively.

"and what?" spencer asked as he stood up, slowly making his way to you. "what else?" he said, his hand now brushing that stubborn strand of hair behind your ear.

"i-i'm..." you trailed off, getting lost in his beautiful eyes.

if you were honest with yourself, you'd admit how much you loved spencer. but you thought he'd never love you like that. not since you helped him through jj getting married. he really thought she was it for him, at least that's what you'd come to think he believed. over the years you had grown so much closer and grown such an attraction for each other that the other person knew about. it was ironic, truly.

"say it, y/n," spencer leaned over you, his lips ghosting over yours. "i need to hear you say it."

"god, just kiss me," you said, your hands flying to the back of his hair to push his mouth to yours.

there was no hesitation from spencer to give you everything he had. his hand on the side of your face remained there as his other hand drifted to your waist to pull you closer to his body. your tongues met fervently with covetous, passion, and longing yet with just gentle firmness that felt protecting and as if it was how everything was supposed to be.

"please, spencer," you quietly whispered once you unlatched from one another.

"please what, princess," he asked, his hand running through your hair.

"i just... i need you," she pleaded with him, her hands still tugging gently on his hair. "please," you put your foreheads together, breathing in each others air as you silently begged him to help you in any way that he could.

"i'd do anything for you," he whispered so delicately as if the entire team were standing right beside you. "you know i'd do anything for you."

"then do something," you demanded.

spencer took action by kissing you just as intensely as before, this time his hands went to your ass. he grabbed your thighs to signal for you to jump, once you did you wrapped your legs around his torso as he carried you into his bedroom. he set you down just in front of the bed before you began to undo his shirt, him returning the favor by undoing yours.

"god, i've wanted you for so long," he growled, nipping gently at your earlobe as he laid you back on the bed. "lift your hips," he ordered, you obeyed his every command. you always would. "good girl," he praised as he ran his hands down your now bare waist.

"please," you begged, your hips bucking up to get any source of friction. "spencer..." you trailed off.

"i know, princess. i know," he said before climbing on top of you, connecting your lips with his once again, this time much more eager than before if that were possible.

as you arched your back, he took the opportunity to unclasp the hook on your bra. you shrugged it off your shoulders to allow him to throw the bra somewhere else in his room. he finally took a breath, removing his lips from yours to admire the view in front of him.

"god, you're so beautiful," he growled before placing gentle but eager kisses along the tops of your breasts, massaging the one his mouth wasn't on.

he pressed his knee between your legs, allowing you to buck your hips up to get that release you wanted so bad. you whined as he took your nipple in his mouth, his tongue flicking past it rapidly as he occasionally nibbled on it gently.

"spen-spencer," you ran your hands through his hair, tugging gently on the roots.

"mmm," he sat his head up, trailed kisses up your throat. "god, i love you so much."

"i-i love you," you moaned, pulling his head up to connect your lips together. "i love you so so much."

"i'm so glad to hear that," he huffed a sigh of relief. "because otherwise it'd be awkward when i did this," he began trailing kisses down your body, leading down towards your center. "i'll show you what it's like to be with a man that actually loves and respects you, yea? show you what it feels like to actually be pleased by a man? what it's like to be with a real man?" he teased.

his fingers trailed around your entrance, gathering your arousal that'd been building for what felt like ages. he pressed gentle kisses around your pussy before finally connecting his lips with your clit, a low groan emitting from your body because of the contact.

"yes, please," you shot your head back, relishing in the feeling of the direct skin contact.

"hey," spencer slapped your thigh, your head shot back up to see him between your legs, a truly beautiful sight that you'd never get tired of. "eyes on me," he demanded before going back down on you, not breaking eye contact as he brought out sounds from you that you weren't even sure you could make. "talk to me, princess. let me know how it feels."

"fe-feels so good," you sighed, taking your breasts in your hands and massaging them. "i-i can-can't even think," you stuttered out, too caught up in the pleasure to form a coherent sentence.

you had felt so good as he sucked on your clit, succeeding in bringing you closer to the edge than noah ever has, but when he inserted two fingers into your entrance...

"oh my fuck!" your hands shot down to grab onto his locks, pushing him further into your body, a low groan leaving him.

his fingers didn't stop their work. he curled them at just the right spot, sending you flying over the edge. spencer used his free hand to grab onto your thigh to keep them from closing in completely on his head, still working you through your high. he placed a kiss on your clit once more before he brought his head up to you, connecting your lips passionately.

"could noah ever make you come like that? huh? could he make you feel so good you could barely even think?" he grabbed your chin in his hands, holding it in place to look at him as you shook your head the best you could. "no?"

"mm-mm," you tried to shake your head 'no' once more.

"did you think of him while i was going down on you? were you thinking about how he fucked that little tramp?" he asked harshly, you shook your head 'no' again. "oh, what were you thinking, princess?" he finally released your face so you could speak.

"ab-about how well you know my body. about how, how good you looked between my legs. about how much i love you," you replied quickly, knowing exactly what to say.

"right answer," he connected your lips once more. "what do you want, love?" he asked, peppering soft kisses along your jaw where his hands once held your throat firmly.

"you. i-i want you in-inside me," you swallowed, your hand finding his and pulling it up to your lips to press a kiss to it, then another, then another, then another. "please, doctor?" you used your best puppy dog eyes you knew he couldn't resist.

"god, call me that again," he rasped lowly.

"what... doctor?" you took his hand and started sucking on his fingers, letting them slip in and out slowly and then moving onto the next.

"fuck, yes," he growled as he pressed another kiss to your lips before lining himself up at your center. "are you sure, princess?" he traced your jaw with the fingers you were previously sucking on.

"yes, sir," you nodded. "i'm sure."

you felt him slowly push inside of you slowly to allow you to adjust to his size. you had your suspicions of how big he was, but feeling him inside of you made it all much more real.

"fuck, you're so tight," he moaned into your ear quietly as he slowly pulled back out, going in just as slow.

"sp-spence-"

"wrong," he slapped your face gently, a whimper leaving your lips before he grasped your face to make you look him in the eyes.

"doc-doctor," you corrected yourself.

"good girl," he said, feeling your pussy clench from the praise. "oh you like that?" he felt it again. "maybe you just like hearing me talk, yea?" his pace began picking up slowly. "you like hearing how this pussy makes me feel? how tight... and warm... and wet it is?"

"u--uh huh," you nodded your head the best you could as he began thrusting much more rapid, hitting that special spot inside of you with each movement.

"it seems like you haven't felt this good in a long time huh? haven't had your pussy pounded like this in a while?" he asked as he was catching his breath.

"ne-never, doctor," you confirmed, hands reaching around his back and dragging your nails down, surely leaving scratch marks all down them.

"fuck," he growled. "noah never made you feel this good princess? never made you forget how to speak in sentences? never knew how to get you going like this?"

"n-no, no! never! god, never!" you cried as you pulled his body even closer to you. "i-i'm close, please!"

"you wanna come all over my dick, yea? you want to show me how much your pussy loves it when a real man fucks it?"

that was it to let that spring burst inside of you, parts flying everywhere. you cried his name as he worked you through your orgasm, holding onto his shoulders and hair to keep you grounded.

"cum inside me, please," you begged. "fi-fill me up."

"fuck, whatever you want, princess," he kept pounding into you at a rapid pace. "god, i'm gonna come inside you, and send you back to that scumbag of a boyfriend so he can see that you're mine now. so he can see what happens when his girlfriend is mistreated and fucked by someone who knows what they're doing, yea?"

"yea, yea!" you whined, nails digging back into his skin as he released his load into you, thrusting it gently back inside after.

"god, i love you so much," he moaned into your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek by your ear.

"i love you," you replied, stroking his hair to help him come down, him still inside of you. he began thrusting inside of you once again.

"don't want any of it to spill out before you get to him," he felt you clench around him one more time. "you're very responsive, princess. i like that about you."

"it-it's just you, spence. it's always been you," you pulled him in for another kiss.

this one was full of passion but not the kind of eagerness. it was full of desire and longing, pent up emotions flowing out into one another fluidly.

"now let me go see my soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend," you huffed as he pulled out of you, wincing from the overstimulation. "i'll see you later?"

"i'll see you later," he pressed a kiss to your forehead before helping you gather your clothes.

driving back to his apartment, you felt rather giddy with yourself. should you have felt bad? absolutely not. he's a manipulative asshole who's used you for sex on numerous occasions, so he deserved the bittersweet irony of what was coming to him.

*get it, coming to him? lol i'm sorry i had to :)*

you knocked on the door softly, greeted by a rather chipper noah who grabbed your face as soon as he saw you, connecting your lips. his kiss was nothing like spencer's. his lips weren't as soft and tentative. they weren't plump and round, they were harsh and rough and unpleasant.

he quickly led you to the bedroom, not to your surprise. he sat down on the bed, you straddled his hips, acting as if it were spencer instead - which was pretty hard to do after knowing what he was like in the sack.

you felt his boner through his pants quickly after you got on top of him. then when he flipped you over and pulled your pants and underwear down, he was met with a surprise.

"someone's excited to see me," he chuckled before licking a thick stripe from your slit to clit, very aggressive to where it almost hurt to have the pressure. "god you taste so good, doll."

he continued at this for a while, inserting his tongue to your hole very once in a while and licking up yours and spencer's arousal with it. you faked your moans and whimpers as his ministrations became more eager, not really getting you anywhere.

after he was finished with your turn - no, he didn't even make you cum - he laid back on the bed as if he were waiting for you to get on top of him again.

"actually," you stood up from the bed, pulling up your clothes with you. "i'm done with this. we're over."

you watched his face as he took in the information just released to him. it changed from surprised and shocked, to confused, to disgusted, to angry and frustrated.

"what the fuck?" he sat up from the bed, a disgruntled look on his face. "you wait until after you cum to tell me this?" he walked over to you, arms flailing in the air.

"yea. i did. and by the way, i didn't cum," you informed him. "that's something you've never really been good at making me do. although i'm not sure how you've been able to convince me to do anything with the way you treat me."

"what do you mean? i'm a good gu-"

"shut up for one second, please," you rolled your eyes, running your hand through your hair. "i know you've cheated on me numerable times. i stayed because i thought that maybe there was a reason, but i've come to realize that i was just... settling with you," you shrugged.

"you've treated me like crap since this 'relationship' started and i'm tired of it. i know someone who not only treats me with respect and kindness, but can also actually make me cum. shocker," you chuckled.

"who is this asshole? what the hell-"

"i wasn't finished, sweetie," you spat out viciously. "he's not an asshole. you're the asshole. you're the one that's getting dumped. so this is goodbye," you turned around to walk out of his room before leaving him with one more thought. "how did his cum taste with mine?" you tilted your head innocently, smiling at his shocked face as he realized what you meant before walking out.

and you were never more glad that you didn't have to go back to him anymore.

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