#penelope garcia x black!fem!reader

[ro-presents-penelopegarciashorts]

NOT REQUESTED

penelope garcia x stud!reader

jus reader and penelope. brief encounter with unnamed florist. brief mention of kevin.

After not having been able to spend quality time with your girlfriend for two weeks, you plan something special to remind her of what she means to you.

Pure Fluff

Established relationship. Mentions of lust and arousal, hints of future smut. Vague mentions of insecurity. No use of Y/N.

2.1k WORDS

You haven't seen your girlfriend, Penelope, for two weeks. Not really. Sure, the two of you shared a bed, but you guys never got home around the same time. Especially not with both of your jobs being kind of hectic right now. When you got home sometimes, Penelope was already soundly asleep. When you woke, she was already gone. Then, there were times where that pattern was reversed, but it all just depended on what was going on at you guys' respective jobs. That said, you two had been in this share a bed only space for a little over a month now, and it was really starting to drive you both crazy.

Things had calmed down at your job a bit. You guys had wrapped up a big project a few days ago, and the post-project chaotic buzz was finally starting to wear off. Penelope had texted you today, informing you that her team had just wrapped their latest case, and that there was a chance she could be home by seven tonight. That was when the gears in your head begin to turn.

Able to leave work early, you had headed straight to the grocery store, bought all the ingredients for her favorite dinner. Now, you were at a flower shop. There was this surprise arrangement that she liked that you did for her. It always consisted of her favorite flower being dominating with other pretty, unfamiliar flowers sprinkled in. She liked to look up the meaning of the flowers later.

"Excuse me, I need flowers," you says and the woman gives you a smile that politely says obviously, and you continue for clarification, "My bad. What I mean is, I need a bouquet that tells a specific emotional story, conveys a message, really."

"Mkay," the woman nods, "And, what would you like your flowers to say?"

"I love you, I've missed you. It's an honor to be with you. I'm so proud of you and the work you do," you say with ease. Never is it hard to pinpoint of verbalize your feelings for your girlfriend. Maybe in the beginning, but after four years, you've gotten more attached to your own emotions and thus, more expressive. "Um, just a giant thank you for being who she is, and for choosing me, choosing us every day, and throw in a good chunk of daffodils because those are her favorites. I also want it to be as colorful as she is, really bright and beautiful."

"Love, longing, pride and admiration and gratitude," she murmurs to herself as she writes in a little notepad. She looks back up at you, "And, as bright, beautiful and colorful as she is, and who is the she in question, for reference?"

Your eyes light up as you pull out your phone. It's easy enough to find a photo of her. Penelope is both your lockscreen and your phone screen, and she happens to take up about 75% percent of your camera roll. You show her a slew of photos, finding yourself sharing the memories behind each. God, did you miss actually spending time with her.

"Beautiful smile," the worker compliments your girlfriend as you pull your phone away.

"I know, huh?" And, your smile is gleaming with pride. She finds it cute, how in love you are. She takes you around the store then. Showing you various flowers that fit all of your requirments. It's hard to choose, to narrow it down. Before you've realized it, your bouquet has turned into an arrangement. But, it's fine. More money than you had anticipated spending, but you want to make her melt when she gets home tonight, and money is but a small sacrifice.

You head straight home afterward. It's difficult, sometimes, to pinpoint when Penelope will be home. The romantic dinner set up has to be done before then, so there's no room in your time schedule to make any other stops. When you get home, you jump straight into the set up, wanting everything to be absolutely perfect for when Penelope comes home.

Which doesn't happen. You're only about a quarter of the way finished with your meal by the time she gets home, but you did set up. So, when she walks through the door of you guys' home, you hear a delighted squeal of awe at how beautiful everything looked. Turning the stove down, you dash out of the kitchen, shouting in a frantic dismay, pleading for her to close her eyes and cover them. When you reach her, her eyes are still open and she's got the most adorable confused expression on her face.

"My surprise," you say, covering her eyes for her as you begin to guide her to you guys' bedroom, "for you is incomplete, and I don't want you to see anything else until I am completely ready so you can't be up here," you inform her, nudging the bedroom door open with your foot. When you've guided her to the bed, you gently push her down. You grab a pin. "Look into the pen."

She giggles, "I'm looking." You click the pen, and playing along, she blinks, mimicking confusion rather well minus the smile in her eyes. "Where am I? How did I get here?" She asks, unable to stop her giggles from escaping her yet again. You smile, loving her a little bit more now for having played along with your mind wiping pen, Men in Black reference without so much as a second thought. You really didn't think it was possible for you to have a better girlfriend.

You lean down and kiss her before dashing out of the room. "I'll come back for you when everything is ready!"

She swoons, watching you sprint back to the front. You were quite possible the sweetest person she's ever known. If not that, you were definitely the sweetest, most kind person she had ever dated. If you were going to go out of your way to surprise her, she would do a little something to surprise you as well. While you work on your preparations, she pulls out your favorite dress of hers. She showers her day away before slipping into it and redoing her hair and make up, wearing your favorite piece of lingrie underneath. She didn't know what you had in store, but she wanted you to fall to your knees the next time you saw her.

After some time, you finished up cooking the meal. Taking your time, you were so careful how you set the table, about making sure you set out the forks and such the correct way. It was never something you personally remembered; you'd had to google. Penelope wouldn't be able to tell, either. If the placements were correct or not. but every time you guys had ever gone to one of those fancy restaraunts that care about placements like that, she always got excited about how nice everything was. She always commented on the silverware, and it was always so precious to you. So, yeah, you made sure to get it right. You were also extremely careful about the presentation of the food as you fix you guys' plates. She liked to take pictures so you wanted it to be picture perfect. When you were satisfied with your efforts, you make good on your promise to go back and get her.

Upon opening your bedroom door, you see Penelope, examining herself in the mirror, wearing that dress that makes your knees go weak. The one that's in your favorite color, the one that hugs her curves and highlights the beauty of her shape in the most heavenly of ways. The one that does absolute wonders for her cleavage. The one that makes you damn near drool, makes you want to drop to your knees and have a different kind of meal. As your eyes trail back upward to meet her eyes, you find her smirking at the unabashed lust in your eyes. You pull yourself together. You want tonight to be so much more than just about sexual intimacy, and you had put so much energy into preparing everything to give her a full experience. You've waited weeks. You could a bit longer. You clench your jaw and clear your throat.

Extending your arm for her to take, "M'lady, your dinner awaits."

Coming forward to you, she takes your hand and kisses your cheek. Continuing to hold her hand, you wrap free arm around her waist and start to guide her down the hall. Eyes uncovered this time, she gasps in wonderment at the bright, white Christmas lights you've hung in arches in the hall way. She loves the face that she's walking on rose petals, even if they are fake ones. She swoons at how you've turned the entire apartment into a romantic wonderland on a random weekday, for no reason at all. The more she takes it all in, the more anxious she finds herself to repay you later on tonight. Reaching the kitchen, the first thing she sees is the arrangement you had made acting as a centerpiece.

She squeezes your hand, "Oh my God," she gushes, "They're so lucious and so so beautiful!"

You feel your heart flutter in your chest at the sound of her joy. Buying her flowers and plants was a big thing for you. You always stressed over it so much because you knew how much she valued plant life and pretty things. You'd yet to gift her a plant, bouquet or flower arrangement that she didn't like, but a part of you still held your breath until she saw it every time.

"I have a card of the names of all the flowers in the arrangement on it." You tell her and she looks at you with the softest eyes. "I know how you like to look up the meanings for yourself later." You add, as the two of you get closer to the table. When you guys are close enough, you let her go so you can pull out her chair. as your doing this, she leans in to smell the arrangement. With her chair pulled out, you help her sit before pushing her chair back in, pouring her a glass of wine before doing the same for yourself at taking your seat.

"Ooh!" she exclaims, "How fancy!" And you smile, not even having to look at her to know she's referencing the silverware placements. "And, dinner smells amazing, baby, thank you."

You shrug, downplaying your efforts, "I just wanted to do a little somethin' for you."

"A little something?" She asks, eyebrows raised, giggling, "Baby, you've turned our home into a five star dining experience." She notes, squinting just a little, "What is all this?"

"Nothing really," you answer, "I've just missed you a lot, and I wanted to do something for you."

Penelope all but melts in her chair. She doesn't think she'll ever say it outloud, because she's ashamed of the thought, but for a while, she thought Kevin was as good as she was ever going to get. Even after they broke up. But, then, she met you, and sometimes, she still feels like you aren't really.

"Where did you come from?"

"I materialized from your sweetest dreams," is your answer with a grin.

She snorts, playfully, "I couldn't have imagined you if I tried. You, my love, are more magical than unicorns."

Your smile widens, "I think that might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

The two of you start in on your meal after that, and she moans at the first bite. You guys talk, really talk for the first time in two weeks, catching up on all things new. You talk about work, but not about any of the dark or boring parts, no. You two keep it light, tell each other about the new gossip updates in your respective offices. You've missed this more than you had realized. For a brief moment, your heartbreaks a little for people who don't get to experience what you two share.

"You know," she says with a light air of casualness, "I have a surprise for you of my own tonight." And, the implication is clear. It hangs heavy in the air as you resort to speechlessness in favor of sputtering your words. Penelope knew exactly what to do to make your brain melt out of your head, to take every bit of intellect in you and wash it away. That statement, in that dress, it takes all your effort to get through dinner. It's hard to focus on anything with your boxers becoming more increasingly soaked in anticipation of what she had in store for you later.

[v1olentdelights]

Just saw the Barbie movie, so a quick thought???

Spencer reid x reader There are no spoilers, but just to be safe, don't read unless you've seen the movie.

Spencer and you had finally had a day off, and though your work colleagues invited you to hang out with them, you already had plans.

"Do I really have to wear this?" Spencer complains about his pink sweater vest.

"Yes, Spence! I tried to make it as comfortable as I could for you. Everyone is doing it, and I want to as well. Plus, you can't say no to me, right?" You heard him huff and then shuffle around the living room. Presumably looking for his keys and wallet. Though they were in your room, so you grabbed them as you walked out.

"Do you know where my..." He trailed off as he saw your outfit. Pink, that was the first and only word that came to mind.

"What do you think?!" Passing him the keys and wallet you twirled about and smiled happily. He took longer than you expected to answer, and it made your heart drop a bit. Was this too much? You didn't want to go crazy, but you wanted to have fun.

But as he stepped closer to you, a smile grew on his face. He reached for your hand and spun you around before pulling you close.

"You are the most stunning Barbie I have ever seen." He kissed you all over your face causing you to pull back.

"Don't ruin the makeup, baby!" You rushed over to the couch to pick up your zip up before pulling him out the door.

~~~~

Handing you a tissue from his pocket, you gratefully took it. Spencer then moved to rub your back gently.

The movie had ended, and your heart felt a little less heavy. All those years ago, you remember playing with your Barbie, all the places you brought her. She was your best friend, someone you confided in about all the trivial arguments you had with your mother.

Stepping out of the theater was almost worse. It felt like you were saying goodbye to part of your childhood again. But you leaned on Spencer, much like you always have, because he was your rock. He was your Allan.

Wiping your nose before quickly discarding the tissue, you kissed Spencer on the cheek, his nose scrunched up as you did.

"Thank you for coming with me, Spencer. That meant a lot." You could still hear the stuffiness in your nose. But he just looked down at you and smiled, something shining in his eyes.

"Of course, sweetheart." He returned the kiss with one of his own to the top of your head.

On your way out, you saw turns of pink going out and in of the theater. Though someone caught your eye.

"Y/N!!! SPENCER!!!" You heard the familiar heel clacking and the heavy boots scuffing the ground. Then you almost got tackled by Penelope without even getting a good look at her. She squeezed you incredibly tight. You could hear Derek patting Spencer on the shoulder.

"Did you guys just watch it, too?" Spencer questioned, though when Penelope pulled back, and you got a good look at her face, you could tell the answer. If you were the definition of pink right now, Penelope was double pink. And she looked gorgeous.

"You got dragged into watching it, too?" Derek chuckled. But you saw how his eyes were the slightest bit puffy. "I thought the ending was a bit... eh."

Yours and Penelopes heads snapped towards him. Then he looked like a deer caught in headlights. Spencer even looked a bit taken back.

"What?!" You and Penelope asked in unison.

"Well, I just mean, I wish they showed more with the mom and Barbie. You know?" He crossed his arms, not once breaking eye contact.

In a moment, the rage that had built in you dulled. That made sense. It ended perfectly in your opinion, and Derek's point was valid.

"Okay. You get a pass, Derek Morgan, that was a reasonable thought." Penelope announced. "Now, shall we go get some ice cream? It's the boys' treat!" She exclaimed as she linked arms with you. The boys laughed before following.

[ro-presents-under-the-nola-stars]

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈

𝐆𝐞𝐧

𝐏𝐆

𝐍𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝, 𝐉𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐚 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐫.

𝟑.𝟏𝐊 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬

A full seven days. That's how long it takes for JJ to actually look at the burnt CD again. She'd kept it in her purse since she had gotten back. Over the course of the week, she'd find herself digging for it in her bag. She'd put hand on it, breathe a little, revealing a sense of calm that she now associated acutely with her time in New Orleans. She would think about pulling it out, calling the number written on it.

Then, she would be overwhelmed with panic. With worry that nothing would ever top the initial spark. That they would try to like, maybe even try to love each other and it would twist into something dark and ugly like everything else in her life. That eventually that night and day spent with Shy in New Orleans, in her home, would leave a bitter, sickening taste of regret in her mouth rather than something to reminisce upon when she was having a bad day. At that thought, she would drop the disc like it were on fire and get back to work or clean her apartment.

But, one day, she had awaken with that melody in her head. That sweet, jazzy tone. It haunted her like a ghost that was begging to be noticed. It haunted her like unfinished business. By two thirty in the afternoon, she'd had more than enough. She found herself tearing her office apart looking for her CD player. She knows she has one for work. She keeps it for the plane, for when she's really stressed or overwhelmed. It's the first thing she unpacks from her go bag but this day? It takes her forever to find. By the time she find it, her office looks ransacked. As if it wasn't messy enough before all this, she's surely fucked her cluttered system all the way up.

She paused when she got hands on the CD. As if just simply listening to it had some massive set of ramifications. She found herself staring at the number until it found itself burning into her brain. Until it was the only thing she could see. She wrote down the tracklist before popping in the CD, sliding on her headphones. She cleaned the wreckage she had left in her wake, letting the music overtake her. It was only a random assortment of songs but they were so soulful, so smooth, so filled with love that despite there being no story direction in the tracklisting order, despite JJ having the memory and knowledge of the fact that Jasira gave it to her because she had needed something to write her phone number on, JJ had deluded herself into believing there was a grand meaning to this parting gift. That it was a sign of sorts.

Still, sign or no sign. JJ can't bring herself to dial the number. She tries for a few days, but each time, her stomach starts to flip, twist and turn and she can't. She hates being scared. She doesn't think she's ever been this scared of anyone, and she sat across Jacob Dawes, who wanted to sniff her hair before he died. She wishes she had the confidence she had when she thought she was never going to see her again.

---

It's a random off day when her phone rings. She's in the kitchen, trying to replicate a recipe for shrimp and grits that she doesn't have, that she's trying to replicate from memory, that isn't going well at all. Her phone is in the bedroom. Upon hearing the tone, going off, she jumps with excitement, sprints to her bedroom. Just in case. It isn't until she gets it and sees Emily's name that she remembers, she didn't give Jasira her number. It's a disappointing thing to remember. She's never been so disappointed to recieve a call from Emily before.

"Hello?"

"Jayje," Emily greets and JJ can immediately envision that soft, sweet smile she tends to have when she calls her that. Emily's a sweet friend, but still, not who she wanted to hear from, "Hey."

"Hi."

"So," Emily starts, "Derek and Pen and myself are going to spend the day together in the city, and it absolutely would not be the same if you weren't there. Reid already can't make it."

JJ remembers her food, that isn't at all good, by the way, and heads back to the kitchen because she doesn't want to deal with the hassle of it burning.

"Oh, um," she pauses. She doesn't have anything to do, but she's not sure she wants to be around two profilers who are much too good at their jobs as well as her extremely pushy, nosy best friend while she's feeling like a lovesick puppy right now. But, then, she remembers, she has a new list of artists who's albums she wants to buy and says, "Sure, sure. Why not?"

"Perfect," Emily answers, pulling her phone away from her ear a bit, "She's going to hang," she informs their friends. She puts the phone back closer, "Okay, we're on our way to you. We'll see you in about 20."

When they get off the phone, JJ takes her failed attempt of a meal of the stove eye and turns it off. She goes to get changed. She's barely had a chance to finish getting ready before she hears a knock at the door. She checks the time on her phone because she's sure a full twenty minutes hasn't passed. And, she's right. It's only been ten. Which means she already knows who's driving because Morgan speeds like Dominic Torretto. She goes to answer the door, not at all self conscious about only being in jeans and a sports bar. Morgan lets out a low whistle, resulting in both Garcia and Emily slapping him in the chest.

"You keep driving how you do, Derek, and even your federal agent status won't be able to help you keep your license." JJ says, as she lets them in.

He scoffs, "How do you know I was driving?"

"Because you were twenty minutes away," JJ says, simply, "You are a speedracer."

"Okay," he scoffs, lazily throwing his hands up in defense, "I do not speed outside of work."

Emily rolls her eyes, chortling, "Morgan, you are too fast, too furious."

JJ let out a chuckle that was mostly released through her nose with a smile on her lips so subtle, none of her friends seemed to see it. She excused herself to go finish getting dressed. She rejoined them in a second. It was briefly debated upon whether or not they would drive her car and let her drive to keep Morgan out of the driver's seat. But, that was shot down. By her because she barely wanted to hang out in the first place, driving would really damper her mood.

In the car, JJ sat in the back of Derek's SUV with Emily as Penelope sat up front with him. The usual arrangement. No way anyone gets the front seat in Derek's care if his precious baby girl is a passenger. As soon as they pulled out of the driveway, Morgan got comfortable. No doubt, manspreading as much as the car space would allow, one hand dropping from the steering wheel and the other taking hold of Penelope's; he also leaned into the slightly tilted front seat. That's when the fast and furious side of him came out.

It would have been a little terrifying if they weren't so used to it. Maybe would have been anyway because riding with him always puts JJ on edge a bit, if she had been able to do anything but stare at the joining of Derek and Penelope's hands.

She hated this, the unfamiliarity of being so stuck on a person that everything reminds her of them. It's stupid because Derek is lighter than Jasira by a few hues but still, the contrast of his skin and Garcia's is giving her flashbacks. She crosses her legs and tries to breathe. She's not even thinking of the sex itself. As remarkable as it was, it's not what she thinks of the most when her mind wanders in her direction.

No, she thinks more about the way she smiled at her over her shoulder in the club. Hell, even just her general presence has JJ feel like she's losing her grip on her sanity. It's the sound of her voice, that accent, her laugh. She thinks about her showing her family pictures and telling their stories. She thinks about her cooking. She thinks about how she rubs her back in her sleep even when she's deeply asleep herself. She thinks about how soft her skin is and she remembers what it's like to hold her hand. She thinks about the height difference, about how well Jasira fits in her lap like a missing puzzle piece and how sweet she looks, looking up at her with those deep, brown eyes of hers. How pure. She thinks about how just breathing her in makes her feel like maybe she can do this, even though she isn't a hundred percent sure what this is.

Then, of course, she thinks the sex. That electrifying chemistry between them. She's never been pressed for sex or lacking in that department; the longest she had ever gone without was eight months and that's just because the team had been that busy, but she has never ever connected like that with anyone during. And, whenever she gets those flashbacks, she spends far too much time with her vibrator. She just hates that she's suddenly thinking about it now, in the car with three of her best friends.

But it was just a night and like, six hours. That's no time at all. Certainly not enough time to be feeling like this. Maybe she's idealizing it. Maybe it's but an illusion, and they can never be so happy again. She knows herself. There's a reason she doesn't do relationships much. She's been in relationships before, but she knows that she doesn't know how to let people in and she knows how fast she loses interest in people, maybe because of that. It's a fault that she isn't sure she's capable of changing. Not without professional help, maybe and she's so against that. She would break Jasira's heart in five different places. Therein lies the issue, her fear; why she's at a standstill. Why she hasn't brought herself to call her even though there is nothing in the world she wants to do more.

"Jayje?" Emily's whisper is forceful enough to make her jump a bit. Emily gives her a sympathetic gaze. Every since the thing with the dogs, Emily gives her this look any time she catches her off guard. "I'm sorry," Emily says, seeing her friend's reaction to her, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I had just been trying to get your attention and you were a little out of it."

"No," JJ forces a smile, "It's okay. You're okay."

Emily gave a reassured smile, "Good. Are you okay, JJ?" Her eyebrows furrowed. "You're a little misty and flushed and your jaw is clenched pretty tight."

"I'm fine," she says but her jaw is tight. Emily doesn't believe her and it's clear, "Really. I'm okay. I just have a lot on my mind."

"Yeah," Emily nods, not wanting to push, but knowing there was more to the story. Seems like there always is with JJ, "yeah. I'm sure. I'm here for you, you know?"

"Em, I appreciate you, but I'm fine."

Emily backed off of her then, but she knew she wasn't okay. She's been a bit weird since New Orleans. Emily figures that detective must have made some strong impression on her. It's just that JJ's been so out of it lately when they hang out or talk, that Emily is having trouble making out what kind impression he'd made. JJ's a difficult person for her profile.

They park somewhere downtown in the center of pretty much everything. They don't have any real plans, just to enjoy each other and their surroundings. They're cracking jokes, just enjoying each other's company. Teasing Morgan mostly because that's the way it usually goes when he's the only guy around. It's easy, he makes it so and he's a good sport about being dunked on. Despite the fact that nothing remarkable has happened, JJ is happy to that she agreed to come out. Something to keep her mind from settling in on Shy, even if it keeps drifting there. It's the best she can do because she hasn't left her mind since JJ had to leave her. It's not a total relief but it's something, and she's appreciative.

She keeps looking at Morgan and Garcia, though. They're a good part of the distraction. Watching them and speculating. They aren't too different than how they are at work, just much more physical. And, sometimes, Derek makes an innuendo that has to be too close for comfort because Garcia will go cherry red and punch him. Or, push him into traffic. In private moments with Garcia, JJ isn't shy about thinking that the two of them should stop joking around and start doing. JJ, for one, doesn't trust anyone else with Garcia's heart, but also — even from a sense of practicality — they just make sense. And, she thinks that's rare. That people fit perfect on paper and are like puzzle pieces in real life as well. Soulmates is a stupid concept, she thinks, but if any two people were to change her mind on that, it would be Morgan and Garcia.

She knows by the way Garcia flushes and hurriedly shuts down the suggestion that she wants him as bad as JJ wants them to be a proper thing. Garcia fears and has worries about whether or not Derek would actually ever want her, however. But, JJ knows he does. She can't say how she knows. She just does. Today, watching them makes her feel like maybe Garcia actually knows that now, finally. Like it's been proven to her, by him because he's the only one who could have done such a thing. It makes JJ think that maybe, if even he can settle down a bit, then maybe commitment isn't a dark monster hiding in your closet.

On their quest to find a restaurant, not even necessarily something they all agreed on, just something that at least one of them was in the mood for, they pass a record store.

"Oh," JJ speaks up, "Pit stop," she says and they turn to look at her with inquisition, evidently not really realizing where they were standing, "I have to run inside here and buy some new albums."

"Yes!" Garcia agrees, loving to have a reason to explore music and her tone is giddy in a way that's only usually typical of drunk Garcia but Morgan has had his arm around her shoulder and been whispering to her off and on for five blocks now so JJ supposes she may as well be.

"I would never say no to adding to my vinyl collection," Emily says, subtly bumping JJ's shoulder, as a show of support, nodding toward the entrance way of the building immediately after.

"Alright, baby," Derek says in the same exact tone as Garcia, "I'm down for wherever you wanna take me." He and Garcia follow behind Emily, who had been following behind JJ.

JJ found the R&B section with ease. She didn't need a list. She had memorized every artist as is. She has to check the track list to make sure she was getting the right albums first. She'd had half a mind to just grab anything with the artists' names attached, but she was still diving into them. Into this genre as a whole. So, she stuck to the albums that held songs that she already knew she loved.

"Didn't take you for an R&B fan," Derek said, his voice a sudden intrusion that made her jump out of her skin a bit. He chuckled, soft and full of humor, "Easy, Blondie, it's just me."

She ignores his second comment, "It's a new discovery."

He takes a few CDs from her hands, reading, "Chante Moore, D'Angelo, Jahiem, After 7, Ciara, Michel'le, 112..." He trailed off, sifting through the rest of her CDs, looking up at her, "Damn, girl, this is pretty all over the place for you to be new to the genre."

JJ isn't the best liar in the world. Not when she's pulling out of a thin air on a whim, but dancing with the truth? That was her strength. She gives an easy smile that feels tight on her face.

"I bought a burnt mix down in New Orleans."

"Oooh!" he exclaims full of excitement, "Can I borrow it? I would love to hear that mix."

In the moment he asks, all JJ can see is Jasira's number sprawled out over the top of it. For a brief second, sure, she imagines herself being questioned about it. Then, she imagines something worse. Morgan calling the number. Be it out of genuine curiosity or to tease her. She imagines him falling for that voice and her falling for the confidence in him that she lacks right now. She imagines herself (and Penelope) being left out in the cold. These thoughts run through her mind. She pales and answers faster than what was necessary, fast enough for it to be suspicious.

"No!" She raises her voice and his eyebrows crease, "It's just that it's the only thing I've been listening to lately. I'm not ready to part with it." Which is true.

He nods slowly, giving her that profiler look and she tries her damnedest to not grind her teeth. Then, Garcia calls him, and he turns his attention away. He all but sprints to her. JJ breathes easier.

---

JJ doesn't get home until well after dark with a small bag of CDs and a take out box. She can't lie, she's had a great time. In the quiet of her own apartment, though, her mind floats back to Jasira and stays there. Maybe, it's the high of joy she's riding from her day. Maybe, it's because she's spent all day watching Morgan and Garcia throw caution into the wind and be true lovebirds. Whatever it is, she doesn't even wait until she's settled in. As soon as the door is locked behind her, she pulls out her cellphone. Her phone number has been been burned so deep in her brain that she dials it like she's done it a million times before. Like it's second nature.

JJ comes crashing down from her high when the call isn't answered. Whatever fleeting moment of hope she has goes crashing and burning into nothing.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━ NEXT CHAPTER

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━ TABLE OF CONTENTS

[lipstickstainedreid]

Tequila shots

Pairing: Spencer Reid X Reader

Summary: You and the team go out. Tequila shots are flowing, which leads to a closeness you hadn't expected.

Wordcount: 2787

NSFW, fem!dom!reader, Sub!Spencer, Praisekink

------------------------------------------------------------------------------The team decided that it was a good night to go out, after an especially hard case to celebrate. You were happy to find a nice black top in the back of your car. It’s off the shoulder and accentuates your cleavage nicely without being too much. 

You stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror of the bar. Sighing you touch up your lipstick and fluff your hair for more volume. 

“Y/n!” you hear Emily knock on the bathroom door. 

“Coming!” You yell back. 

You give yourself one more look before heading back into the bar. 

Everybody is stuffed into a booth in the back. The Rolling Stones playing over the speakers gives the bar a nice vibe. A few small groups are scattered around, a couple of guys playing darts. Overall it’s not as busy as you’d expect.

You sit down next to Emily. “What are we talking ‘bout?” You smile. 

Your eyes scan the table, everybody already has a drink. Morgan slides a beer towards you. You smile gratefully at him. 

Your eyes get stuck on Spencer, he took off his blazer and the tight-fitting dark purple shirt is very visible. You let your eyes wander over his chest, the buttons are slightly pulling on the fabric. Over the past year, he grew out of his lanky frame and into a man with broad shoulders and arms. His sleeves rolled up making his arms look even bigger. God, he looked delicious. 

“Well, Prentiss, JJ and I are convincing everyone else to go to this club a block away,” Morgan spoke.

“The average age here is 50.” Prentis sighed head resting on her hand, with the other she was waving her beer around to point at a group of elderly men. 

Rossi quirked an eyebrow in her direction.

“No offence.” She quickly mumbled. 

Spencer seemed to get nervous at the thought of going to a club. His hand ran through his hair. 

“Come on guys, we want to dance!” JJ exclaimed. Garcia gave in with a little “Whooo,” sending a wink your way. 

A night of dancing would be a good way to get your mind off of all the brutal cases you’ve seen lately. Besides it’s been forever since you had some drunken stupid fun. Who knows, what is the worst thing that could happen with your colleagues?

You take a big swig of beer. “Okay, I’m in!” You laughed. Half of the table burst out in cheers.

Hotch, Rossi and Reid still needed to be convinced. Prentis starts a small chant, tapping her beer on the table. “Clubbing, clubbing, clubbing.” JJ and Garcia join in quickly. 

“Come on Hotch, scared you can’t keep up anymore.” Morgan taunts. 

Hotch glances at the man next to him about to answer, when Rossi intervenes. “Come on Hotch let’s show these kids how it’s done.” 

More cheers erupt from the table. 

Reid is fidgeting with his hands looking up at you worried. you smile at him reassuringly and mouth “You’ll be okay.” He nods and gives you a small smile. His eyes were still a bit worried. 

The team finishes their beers and gets ready to walk to the club. 

Standing at the coat check you can already feel the bass coming from down the hall. You start feeling a little giddy, excitement filling your chest. “Y/n! you ready?” Penelope grabs your hand to pull you down the hallway. 

The music hits you like a wall. There are speakers all around the room blasting what the DJ is playing. Different coloured lights are flashing everywhere. Reid comes up next to you, anxiety visible in his shoulders and jaw. You reach over and give his hand a small squeeze. He smiles at you and lets out a breath before walking in with you. 

Prentis comes up to your group and waves everybody over. Derek is standing at the bar guarding a row of shots with his life. Everybody piles around the shots. You lick your hand and pour some salt over it. Getting ready holding the glass and lime. 

“One, two, three, shot!” Morgan yells.

The tequila burns a little going down and you grimace at the taste. The lime helps a bit. You lock eyes with Reid who seemed to have a worse experience than you. Before you can talk to him the girls pull you back on the dancefloor.

In the bathroom, you look at your phone”, the text is starting to become blurry. 2:00 AM. Your mother's voice echoes in your head “Nothing good happens after 2:00 AM.” You shake your head and look in the mirror. Why do you always feel more drunk in the bathroom than out on the dancefloor? You reapply your lipstick and tousle your hair around a little bit. You stumble a little to the door before heading back out. 

Walking past the bar you see Derek and Spencer standing around a group of girls. A small pang of jealousy hits your chest. Reid runs a hand through his hair and smiles at one of the girls. God, why did he have to look so hot today? All those girls are probably throwing themselves at him. It’s, not like he’s yours or anything but still, that doesn’t mean you have to like these girls flirting with him. Surely if you were sober this wouldn’t bother you as much. Right now your head is dizzy with alcohol, and you can’t think straight. 

As you march over there Morgan calls out “Y/n come do a shot with us!” Spencer's hair was starting to stick to his forehead from the heat and he unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt. You could see the blonde girl beside him whisper something in his ear. Her hand very clearly touching his arm. Could she be even more obvious? 

Reid his cheeks were turning red by the second as he gulped. 

“Okay, it’s Reid's turn,” Morgan calls out, and all the girls cheer. Confusion is written all over your face, Derek smirks at you. 

Spencer looks even more uncomfortable wiping his hands on his trousers. 

“Okay pretty boy, it’s salt, shot, lime remember?” Reid nods, nervously looking around. 

Derek comes closer to your ear, so you can hear him over the music. “Can you help boy genius out?” 

“Sure, what do I need to do?” you answer.

“Stand there and look pretty we’ll do the rest.” 

Sounds ominous but you’re sure Derek would never do anything you’re uncomfortable with. 

He walks back to get some stuff from the bar and comes to stand behind you. 

“Don’t be scared pretty girl.” 

You feel something cold on your neck going down parallel to your collarbone. You turn your head to see salt getting poured over the same line. Derek stands in front of you now and hands you the lime. “Hold this in your mouth.” 

You do as he says. Surely this is not the most professional thing you could do but you can’t see anyone else from the BAU around. 

Spencer gets pulled by Derek to stand behind you. The blonde girl glares at you, obviously jealous of the position you’re in. 

You can feel the heat radiate from the man behind you. He’s holding the shot glass in one hand. 

Derek yells from the group of girls “One, two, three, shot!”

Spencer's big hand holds your arm as he moves even closer. You feel him completely pressed behind you as he dips his head down. His tongue moving across the strip of salt. 

Tingles shoot up and down your spine. Just as fast as his mouth leaves your neck he turns you around. He takes the shot and puts the glass down. Both of his hands hold your face. He pulls you close to take the lime from between your lips. 

Your breath stops. You’ve never been this close to the man in front of you. Your mind is consumed by the thought of this man. All you can think about is closing the gap between your lips. You lock eyes as he moves away. The confidence in his actions seems to fade away as he steps away from your body. 

“Okay, Y/n now it’s your turn!” Morgan exclaims from behind you. His words slowly bring you back to where you are. “Pretty boy, you want to return the favour?” he taunts. 

Spencer mumbles something which gets taken as a yes. The blonde girl drags the lime over the space on his chest now visible with the part of the shirt that’s unbuttoned. She shakes the shaker to pour salt over his chest. She gives him a wink before walking away. Reid takes the lime from Morgan, who hands you the shot after.

Something about this girl so obnoxiously flirting with Spencer is setting something off in you. Maybe you had some unresolved feelings about this man. You knew you were attracted to him, who wouldn’t be? This was a jealousy deeper than that. 

You were aware these girls wanted to go home with Spencer tonight. Something switched in your mind. Fuck it let’s give them a show.

You approach the taller man, who’s staring nervously at you. With your free hand, you move the shirt out of the way and you lick a long strip over his chest, not breaking the eye contact. Spencer's eyes darken as he looks down at you. You take the shot and use both hands to pull Spencer down by his shirt. You’re filled with longing as you hold him there. Taking the lime from his lips, you feel his breath hitch in the closeness shared for a split second. 

“Let’s go,” you growl in his ear. Reids's hand grabs yours as he pulls away. He manoeuvres you across the dancefloor filled with partygoers. When he finds an empty bathroom he pulls you inside and closes the door. 

You push him against the door and with your other hand you lock it. Your lips connect in a passionate kiss. Fireworks go off in your chest as you’re mind is buzzing with alcohol and lust. Your lips move against his with hunger. His hands try to touch you anywhere he can. They move from your hips to your waist to pull you closer to him to your face. Your hands are unbuttoning his shirt. When his shirt is open you push it from his shoulders and let it fall on the bathroom floor. You break the kiss and a soft whine escapes the taller man. You let your eyes travel over Spencer. His blonde hair all tousled, cheeks red and lips flushed, his eyes stay focussed on yours. 

“Such a pretty boy” you whisper against his ear as you leave wet kisses down his neck. He lets out a quiet breath from the feeling. You smile against his neck and suck harder leaving maroon and purple bruises all over his collarbone. 

His knees almost buckle from the feeling. Your hands move down from his chest to his thighs. You softly brush against his groin feeling how hard he already is. 

“Are you so needy already?” You coo. 

Spencer nods feverishly “Please let me make you feel good.” He begs. 

“Not yet baby,” your hands move to his belt slowly undoing it. “There is something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.” You quickly pull his pants and boxers down.

He gasps at the feeling of the cold air on his dick. A drop of precum already collecting at the tip. You smile as you slowly move your hand around his shaft. You go teasingly slow at first looking up at the man in front of you. 

Spencer is leaning his head against the door, eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed together. 

You start licking at the tip, then moving from the base down his shaft. Spencer lets out a moan at the feeling. You take the tip in your mouth as his hand buries in your hair. 

You start bobbing up and down his dick, your cheeks hollow. Enjoying the pretty sounds he’s making. Your hands grab his thighs. You notice Spencer is starting to move with your head trying to go deeper down your throat. He feels heavy on your tongue. 

“Please Y/n,” he whimpers “Please let me cum.”

You move away from him. “Not so fast baby. Slowly standing up you keep one hand on his length, moving it teasingly slow. You feel him trying to gain some more friction by moving his hips. You loved having this incredible man so desperate for you. 

“You’re being so good for me baby.”

Spencer moans at the praise. 

“You want to fuck me, make me feel good?” 

He nods his hands again trying to pull you closer. 

“Please miss.”

You bring him towards the sink as you jump up on the counter. Pulling on his blonde locks you lock lips again. His tongue brushes against your lips, you let him in. Your tongues circle each other. Spencer's hands move to the bottom of your shirt. 

“Can I take it off?” He murmurs against your lips. You nod in response. 

He quickly moves his head away to remove the top and throws it down on the ground. He stares at you for a moment. His lips connect to your chest as his hands find their way to the clasps of your bra. 

You moan at the feeling of his lips all over you. He slides the bands of your bra down your arms as it joins the pile on the floor. 

His kisses move to your right nipple, and his hand finds your left boob. He kisses and sucks on it while his hand massages the other. His teeth softly pull on it. 

“You make me feel so good baby, suck a good boy.” 

He whimpers against your chest. His hands move your skirt up to your hips as his mouth continues making its way down.  You gasp at the cold counter against your bare ass.

He hooks his fingers around your panties and moves them down your legs. They get tossed aside without looking. Spencer's mouth latches to your thigh. Wet kisses up and down your thighs. 

You feel yourself getting wetter with each passing second as your breathing becomes more heavy. 

After what feels like ages his lips find their way around your clit. His tongue moves circles around it gently applying pressure. Your hands are buried in his hair.

“Fuck Spence,” you moan. 

his tongue licks around your entrance as he continues to suck on your clit. 

Softly you feel one finger nearing your entrance. He moves it in and out of you with ease. Fuck he has long fingers. 

A second one joins. 

“Fuck baby,” He curls his fingers to hit your g-spot “you feel so good.” Your moans come out broken from the pleasure.

He continues eating you out as if his life depended on it. 

A familiar tightness forms and your legs start shaking.

“Don’t stop Spence, I’m so close.” This only seems to make him more enthusiastic. His tongue still circling your clit. His long fingers fucking you. You can’t take it anymore.

“I’m gonna cum Spence.” You warn him. 

Your sweet release covers his face as you moan his name. 

The man comes up from between your legs with a hazy smile. You brush his hair out of his face. 

“You did so good sweetheart.”

You give him a soft kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. Something that sends a wave of endorphins through you. 

Your hand moves down to his shaft again, still standing ready. With your other hand on his shoulder, you pull him closer to you. You give him a few pumps before lining him up with your entrance.

He moves into you. You both moan at the feeling as he slowly bottoms out. 

“Fuck you’re so big baby, you make me feel so good.” 

He whimpers “Thank you miss.”

Spencer starts thrusting slowly first, moaning at the feeling of you surrounding him.

“Faster baby.” At these words, he starts fucking you faster. 

You press your nails into his shoulders. Whispering encouragements and praise into his ear. 

His hips snapping into you faster and faster. 

You feel your walls fluttering around him, feeling the familiar tightening in your stomach. Spencer starts moving faster and deeper. You can tell he’s getting close.

“Be a good boy and cum for me.”

That’s all it takes for Spencer and you to fall over the edge. His hips stutter as he lets out loud moans. He lets his head hang against yours as he fills you up. 

You kiss his head.

“Such a good boy.”

[1-800-local-slut]

House of Memories (Spencer's Version)

Spencer Reid x Black! Fem! FBI! Reader

A look at your life with Spencer through the eyes of his team mates

Warnings: none really, just fluff, the team being observant, adult objects (condoms, alcohol, etc.,), not a warning but a note: reader isn't in the BAU but she works in the FBI, through Emily's POV

“I wasn’t expecting an invite from you, Reid. Thanks for having me over.” The front door to the apartment opened. Emily was holding a bottle of cheap wine that she grabbed from the liquor store down the street when she realized she forgot to bring a house gift. It was a close call too, she was literally driving past it when she realized and had to make a very hasty u-turn. 

“It’s no problem, thank you for coming! Derek, Garcia and Hotch are in the living room, Rossi’s in the bathroom and JJ’s coming late. Her loss though, I think she’d really enjoy Interstellar and if she comes late I know she’s going to complain. Come in, just take your shoes off if you don’t mind.” Emily nodded, after Spencer gave her a light side hug and accepted the bottle from her. 

He wore a white tee-shirt, pajama bottoms, and smelt fresh. His hair was damp as well, like he’d showered a few hours ago but his hair is so thick that it takes a minute for it to dry. She noticed his light shrug, as if it wasn’t his preference but he would take it anyways. 

Ghosting through the threshold, she bent down and slipped off her boots. She heard light chatter, music, smelt a vanilla and sea salt (it was a rough guess) candle burning, and heard the clatter of pots in the kitchen. 

She couldn’t help it, her analytical mind working before she could stop it. Sometimes she would find herself profiling strangers even when it was rude. And profiling your coworker who invited you into his home was very rude. 

Spencer’s shoes were thrown on the floor, one knocked on its side but still close together. As if it was an attempt on his end to be some sort of neat. Pairs of heels, pumps, boots were lined on the shoe rack but after doing a quick count, she noticed something. There were far more womens shoes than there were mens shoes. About six pairs of men's shoes to a 10 women’s shoe ratio.

Aaron, David, Derek make three, and the other three were clearly Spencer’s. Pen’s shoes obviously were one of those female shoes. The bright purple heels sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the browns, blacks, and deep reds of the female shoes. 

‘Enough Emily, stop being rude.’ 

“Your house is beautiful Spencer.” She couldn’t help but look around in slight awe. She wasn’t expecting Spencer’s house to be so…neat? No, that sounds mean. Neat in a way that didn’t seem like it was all Spencer. Sure Spencer’s little unique touches were sprinkled about the apartment and she was still standing at the doorway.

There were pictures of nature hanging on the wall, of a young black woman standing in front of a large pond far from the camera. She wore a pink baseball cap and had her hands flung out as if to emphasize how big the pond was. Who was that? A secret lover? She looked familiar, like a face Emily had seen in passing.

“Oh thanks. I just moved in a few months ago so not everything is fully set up.” Spencer called from the kitchen, and there were three clicks from the stove. Then he slid out, wiping his hands on a towel. As she walked through the house, she noticed more.

Potted plants with lush green leaves, knitted plant holders hanging from the ceiling, a red and dark blue patterned rug on the floor in the hall. From where she stood, she could see there was a small dining area. A nice wooden table, with papers and files scattered all over. 

She found her way to the living room and saw her coworkers engaged in whispers on the couch. More papers and files were on the small tables on either side of the couch, a contrast to the neatness of the rest of the house.

“Hey everybody, what’s up?” Emily asked. Heads snapped towards her, and she noticed Penelope’s eyes curved up in a mischievous grin. 

“Hi! Come sit, come sit.” Penelope motioned next to her, Derek and Rossi sliding over to make room for her. 

“Did you make it in okay?” Hotch asked and Emily nodded while she slipped onto the brown leather sofa. A dark purple hand knitted black was thrown over the back of it. Did Spencer take up knitting or was this just a nice purchase? 

Spencer plopped down into the brown leather armchair and rested his feet on the pouf in front of him. Emily noticed how spotless the glass coffee table in front of them was. 

The whole house was ridiculously clean. The wooden floors sparkled, the carpets meticulously vacuumed, the TV sparkled and the speakers next to the TV were flawlessly dusted. The large oak bookshelf that was up against the wall that was closest to the kitchen was also dusted and the books neatly organized. 

When would Spencer have time to clean his house so thoroughly? They were on a mission all of last week, got back two nights ago and have been at work since then. Sure, it’s Spencer he could just be very clean but the way things sparkled, it was clear they were cleaned merely a few hours ago. 

When they did go home it was late at night and they were back at work early the next day. Did he spend his whole Saturday afternoon scrubbing his floors, and preparing to cook for them? Spencer wasn’t the type to have a housekeeper, especially when he does his work all over and you can’t exactly leave FBI documents in the eye of the eye of a random house keeper.

“Sorry about the paperwork, I still have to set up my study. I have to put up my desk and everything.” Everyone voiced a consolation, some variation of ‘I don’t mind’ or ‘you should see my place’.

“Not the handyman?” Derek teased, wiggling his eyebrows. Spencer chuckled and shook his head. Spencer’s been smiling a lot more lately.

“I like keeping myself out of the hospital. Did you know every 45 minutes a piece of furniture falls on someone, and 25,000 people a year are treated at the hospital for a furniture related incident?” Spencer rattled off, emphasizing the numbers with his fingers.

Before anyone else could say anything, the doorbell rang. Spencer glanced back at the door, before he sprung to his feet with enthusiasm like he was expecting  Emily and Penelope exchanged looks, giggling while Rossi lightly rolled his eyes.

“Of course he knows that. Also, did any of you know that Spencer moved to a new place?” Derek asked.

“Well I knew. I know where all of you live. But it was very considerate of him to invite us over.” Hotch nodded, taking a sip of a bottle of water. Not Spencer’s usual brand but she did notice a switch some time ago. From Purelife to Poland Spring.

“Did you see the coat? Hanging by the door rack?” Penelope whispered, motioning for everyone to come in closer. There was a devilish twinkle in her eyes, her brain working overtime.

“What, you think he has some… extra company? A secret lover?” Rossi chuckled. Of course she noticed, but she just thought it was Penelope’s. 

“Maybe! Do you think?” Penelope asked excitedly, her hands flapping around with enthusiasm. Oh Penelope, ever the romantic. Derek giggled next to Penelope. He was lightly smacked by Penelope as a rebuttal and he giggled as if the slaps tickled him and they heard Spencer’s reapproaching foot steps along with an extra pair of heels. 

They all turned, eager to see who it was. Would it be the woman in the photo? His mom? Someone else?

“JJ!” Emily exclaimed when the final member of their team came in. She twisted around in her seat, happy to see her friend. JJ wasn’t able to make it on their last assignment so it had been a minute since they’d seen her. For people who practically live together, spending almost every moment together while at work was normal. They’d all fallen into a natural balance of being around each other. Of course they’d missed JJ while she was out sick.

“Hi!” She held her arms open for hugs, while the entire team voiced their hellos.

“Sorry I’m late, the grocery store was ridiculous. You wouldn’t believe what I saw, some lady's ex boyfriend came there and she called the cops on him like right there in the store. Apparently, he gave her something on purpose. She got on the speaker and called him ‘Dirty Dick David’. And then they fired her for playing with the mic that way!” She told her story while passing out hugs and then plopped down in the opposite arm chair across from the one Spencer was sitting in before.

“What?” Spencer laughed while he sat back down. 

“Right there it happened.” The whole team was laughing and Emily remembered that this was why she got along with her team so well. The easy laughter was so simple and refreshing.

“Woah, right there is insane! I guess she was sick of him.” Emily leaned slightly into Penny, allowing herself more comfort

“Imagine being at work and your ex who purposely infected you with something shows up to both you? I’d be pissed too.” Derek chuckled.

“I’ve been through three wives and never got a reaction like that, Dirty Dick David certainly had it coming.” Rossi added before they all laughed even harder.

Then there was a loud ringing noise. Spencer’s phone was going off and he patted himself down, lifting himself up checking to see if he was sitting on it. Then he got up, his face making a tiny expression like he could finally recall.

“I’ll be right back guys.” He ran into the kitchen and Penelope pulled everyone into a huddle.

“Okay, here’s what you missed JJ, you ready?”

“I’m ready?” She asked with an arch eyebrow and a nervous smile.

“There’s a bunch of lady stuff around here, like a coat and I don’t know if you saw the shoes but there are a lot of lady shoes. Rossi was in the bathroom and saw a bunch of lady stuff too, like a special face cleanser but he didn’t wanna snoop. I think he should’ve gone for it but whatever. Also I don’t know if you know but I know that Spencer doesn’t cook. 

His house is also really clean like really really clean like it was just clean but when would he have gotten the time to clean it? I mean we got off work like three hours ago. Running theories? Spencer has a housekeeper, a secret girlfriend, or his moms visiting. Got it? Okay, got it.” 

JJ blinked after Garcia’s rapid rundown, Derek nodding like he was able to keep up with that and Hotch all around looked displeased.

“We are guests in Spencer’s home, don’t go looking through his stuff. Maybe Spencer likes that stuff, that’s not any of our concern.” He frowned with a crease in his eyebrows. 

“Yeah Garcia, besides if Spence did get a girlfriend then I think that’s great for him.” JJ chuckled and Derek rubbed her shoulder comfortingly.

“I’m back! I picked up the shrimp and some wine. I also got some beers if you want any. The coolers are for me, you can have one but don’t take any of the pink ones. I like those ones.”  A familiar voice sounded through the house.

The sound of socks hitting the floor padded through the house and a young woman walked in. The woman from the photo more specifically. Her hair was in long braids that curled around her waist. She was gorgeous, a red scarf was wrapped around her neck to protect her from the chilly winter air. More specifically she was familiar. 

More specifically she was from a different team. More specifically a member of the HRT. The Hostage Rescue Unit. They’ve seen Spencer speaking with her a lot. They’ve teased him for their closeness multiple times, and knew they were a bit closer. But Emily didn’t know they were such close friends. For her to just walk into his home this way.

No offense to Spencer but when Emily said she was hot, she meant she was hot. Like she just stepped out of a magazine. And she never thought Spencer would have it in him to pull. Spencer was certainly nothing to sneeze at but my god was this woman attractive.

She was making her way through the house, to the kitchen lightly waddling. She held a bag of groceries and as if she could feel all the eyes on her she turned. 

“Oh hi! I’m sorry, I ran out to the grocery store. I didn’t realize we ran out of shrimp but the food will be done soon.” She beamed at them and put one of her hands on her hips. And Emily did as profilers do. She profiled even if she didn’t truly mean too. She was wearing pajama pants, and a puffy coat that was zipped open to reveal a white tank top. Above all she radiated joy, confidence and comfort.

“It’s nice to see you again.” Hotch cleared his throat, and she nodded at the members of the BAU.

“You got the shrimp?” Spencer called, coming out of the kitchen, slipping his phone into the pocket of his pants. He came up behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist. She instinctively angled her head to his and pushed herself up onto her tippy toes to plant a kiss on his lips.

Penelope was on the verge of exploding, her mouth open in a wide grin. She let out an excited squeal. The two agents jumped upon hearing the high pitched noise and everyone on the couch turned to face her.

“What?! Oh my god, when were you gonna tell us?!” Penelope asked, bounding up from the couch. Spencer looked confused above all as Penelope raced towards him and his apparent girlfriend.

“I didn’t think I had to, we weren’t exactly shy about it.” Spencer laughed as he looked at Penelope basically bouncing up and down in front of him. She giggled and Penelope paused.

“Dude we thought you were just friends?” Derek questioned from the couch. Spencer shook his head, looking more and more shocked by the second.

“So how long has this been going on?” Emily asked with a laugh. She had to laugh! How could she not be happy for Spencer? He looked so happy, he literally hadn’t stopped smiling since she came into the door and they kissed.

“Like a year? I mean, I know we jumped the gun with moving, but my lease was up and I decided that this would work and I couldn’t find anywhere close enough to work. We decided to go for it.” Spencer added, scratching the back of his neck.

“You guys really had no idea? I mean I tell you guys that we go out every weekend, I have a picture of her on my desk. We literally come to work together everyday.” Spencer exclaimed, motioning around with his hands.

“I don't see you that often at work, they probably don’t really notice those things.” She rationalized to him and rubbed a hand over his chest. He never moved his hand from around her waist. 

It all made sense. The candles littered around the house, the small basket of yarn and needles on the floor next to one of the arm chairs. The food even smelt too seasoned to be like anything Spencer could cook, the photos that Emily was just now realizing were taken of Spencer. The romance novel that Emily saw sitting on the glass coffee table. How spotless the entire house was. The shoes, the coat, Emily was just mad at herself for not recognizing the photo.

“Well. Way to go Reid, I didn’t know you had it in you.” She smirked at Derek’s remark and stood on her toes again. She whispered something in Spencer’s ear and he cackled with his mouth open in shock. 

He was turning a bashful shade of red and his voice squeaked as he sent her away. 

“I’ll be finished with your food soon, you guys.” Trailing into the kitchen, Spencer glanced over as if to check if she needed anything.

“Oh gosh, you didn’t have to cook for us! Thank you so much!” Emily exclaimed, realizing that she was just sitting there like a fish with her mouth wide open. 

“Let her cook, why not enjoy dinner and a movie?” Rossi joked. It seemed like the shock had dissipated and JJ giggled, her blonde hair shining like the Sun and Emily noted how her entire face lit up like a star.

“Honey, can you come help me with these groceries?” Spencer nodded, following her into the kitchen. They watched, waiting to watch them fully go into the kitchen. Then like little girls at a sleepover, they leaned back into their huddle. 

“Wow!”

“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves.” Hotch tried to keep the peace before his team of impatient agents ran rampant. Emily herself felt like she needed answers and she needed them now. 

“Did you see the way he looked at her? They’re so cute, I had a feeling when he came to work that one time smelling like perfume and wearing the same clothes but they were like all up on each other.” Penelope whispered excitedly. 

“I always knew opposites attract. You know they make a handsome couple too.” The excitement died down for a second and everyone had to look at Rossi. Who even used that phrasing anymore?

“You’re so old, Rossi.” JJ giggled and Hotch shook his head. Rossi smiled playfully, the way he always did when they made fun of him for being ancient.

“What do they even talk about? I mean sure they have stuff in common but for a whole year? I wasn’t expecting that!” Emily exclaimed.

“Reid’s never short on things to talk about.” Derek teased and Penelope swatted him again.

“I mean I noticed he’d been a bit happier but I wasn’t expecting this! I guess you just never know.” JJ added in, glancing over to the kitchen to make sure the two weren’t standing right there. 

“We can find out what they talk about.” No one wanted to admit it but they wanted to snoop so bad. So bad that when Penelope suggested it the best thing to do was to stop talking and be extra quiet so they could hear. Even Hotch, slowly reclined.

Over the clatter of pans, the soft clinking of bottles and things being put away, and dishes being taken out they heard her voice. 

“Emily brought us some wine. Pink.” Spencer’s voice broke through and Emily tensed up. Oh god, what if they hated the wine? 

“Oh my favorite. I’ve always liked that Emily. If it wasn’t for you, I’d go for her.” She laughed and plopped something into what sounded like a liquid. 

Derek made some funny eyebrows at Emily and Emily felt her cheeks heat up. JJ and Penelope both grabbed each other to stifle a laugh. As bad as it was to listen to your teammate and his girlfriend's conversation, they couldn’t stop.

“Aw babe don’t pout.” Then a kissing noise.

“There’s that smile. Also I picked up some condoms, we were down to six and you know we go through those like crazy. Speaking of which, I was thinking, do we really need those? I mean I’m on the pill and at the rate we go we’d save more money just not having sex. To be honest we spend a bit too much money on that stuff anyways and I don’t want to replace another bed frame. I like this one and we literally just got it. That or we just need to stop having sex so often. The call is totally yours but that bitch who works at the front cashier keeps looking at me funny everytime she sees me walk up.” It took a moment for everyone to process what she was talking about. It really took a moment. An identical frown spread over both Rossi and Hotch, and Derek had to put his fist in his mouth to avoid cackling. 

Oh god, this was an awful idea. Now there was just awkward silence. None of them could say anything even if they wanted to.

“So my options are death, death or going raw?” Spencer whined immediately.  Emily focused her eyes on something else instantly, the patterned carpet on the floor, the TV that was showing different scenery as it was in rest mode.

“Oh my god, you are so dramatic! You’re not going to die if we don’t have sexy every day.” The sound of a spoon clattering down and then she broke out into a fit of giggles.

“But how do you know!” He whined again.

“Like I said, it's your choice. It doesn’t really matter to me, I’m just sick of always having to go to the store. And you’re squeezing my ribs.”

“I like your idea. Besides, we have abortion money.” She gasped softly and then broke into light laughter. JJ’s jaw dropped open and Derek snorted before he covered his nose. Of everything that was expected it wasn’t that.

“That’s awful, baby.” She scolded and Emily got a mental image of the two. Was she standing in front of the stove, the smell of food wafting through the house, Spencer standing behind her with arms wrapped firmly around her? If Emily wasn’t so uncomfortable right now her mouth would be watering. It would also warm her heart to hear how happy her friend was.

“I’m sorry.” He joined in on the laughter.

“Oh my god we’re being awful host! Plate up the soup and I’ll pour the wine.”

Once the two came back out, it was hard to even look at Spencer knowing that he had apparently helped break a bed frame. Even if he was holding trays of the most mouth watering gumbo.

“Who wants to watch Interstellar?”

[theheartbreakprincesss]

red lips and rosy cheeks, a criminal minds imagine

pairings: fem!reader x bau!team (platonically of course) and fem!reader x spencer reid (if you squint a little)

word count: 800ish

warnings: none i think. no use of y/n because i don’t really vibe with that. no angst, a little fluff, maybe? it’s mostly just funny i think. also not beta-read, or like we say in ao3, no beta we die like men.

author’s note: i have been binge-watching criminal minds for a couple weeks now and of course i’m obsessed with it, and this visual of spencer becoming a little flustered over seeing his crush all dressed up popped into my mind. it’s my first time writing an imagine with the reader as the main piece in the story, so idk be gentle with me? i also never wrote for criminal minds and i’m only in season 4. i just wrote this instead of sleeping or actually writing my other fics. sorry if this is terrible anyway. i’m open to feedback! thanks for reading <3

Working for the FBI could be a handful, sometimes, but the job had its benefits. You could catch criminals and help people, make a difference, you know? But something you would never expect to count as a benefit was the possibility of being called in the middle of a date.

You didn’t even want to go on that date, but your long-time friend Emma had insisted she knew a guy that would be perfect for you. Emma knew you since you both were undergraduates working on their degrees, so you had figured it wouldn’t hurt to give the guy a chance.

It wasn’t your best moment.

Not that the guy turned out to be a psychopath or something like that. But the ice of your drink had barely started to melt when it became clear that Sean wasn’t the guy for you, and by the end of your martini, you could see that Sean was too self-centered and trying too hard to be something he was not, with the fake watch and the well-pressed but clearly cheap suit and exaggerated tales of his life. An hour into the date and you were begging to the universe to offer you a way out of that bar.

Thankfully the universe seemed to listen to your plea, and you let out a relieved sigh when you saw Garcia’s name on the screen as the phone rang. Apparently, Hotch wanted everyone at the office right that moment.

That hurry was what prompted you to go into the BAU headquarters straight from your date, thinking that a stop by your apartment to change would take too much time and that you could take the clothes out of your go bag and change out of your outfit once you got there.

“Hey there.” you greeted as you walked into the bullpen. “Is everyone here yet?”

“Rossi and Prentiss are on their way.” Morgan said from his desk. “Wonder boy is getting coffee.”

“Oh, okay.” you mumbled, moving to take off your coat and wondering if you would have time to wipe off the red lipstick before the briefing.

“Damn, pretty girl.” you heard Morgan say, that suggestive tone in his voice that annoyed the life out of you. “Did we interrupt something?”

“Only the most boring date I have ever been on.” you scoffed, nervously fixing your dress. It wasn’t inappropriate or something, just very different from what you used to wear. It had been Emma’s idea, actually, to pair that black sleeveless dress with knee-high boots. “He spent the entire time talking about himself.” you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, look at you!” Garcia exclaimed as she got into the bullpen. “You look like a million bucks, darling.”

“Thank you, Pen.” you said. “What’s the case about?”

“A woman went missing in Indiana this morning in the same way three more disappeared in the last month before they were found dead.” JJ told, walking out of her office. “Oh, hot date tonight?” she asked.

“Disappointing, actually.” you laughed. “Can we not talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” you heard Spencer’s voice from behind Penelope.

“About her date.” Garcia said. Spencer joined them as they all stood near your desk, two coffee mugs in his hands. His messy hair was the first thing you noticed, looking like he had been dragged out of his bed. He handed you the second coffee mug, the one with little cartoon kittens stamped on it, then his eyes really focused on you.

“Oh, thank you.” you mumbled, taking a sip of it.

“I– yeah, I…” he stammered, eyes moving up and down, up and down.

“Are you alright, Doc?” you asked, using the nickname you had given him a few weeks into working together.

“Ooh, I think you broke pretty boy.” Morgan laughed.

“It’s probably the red lipstick.” Garcia pointed out, joining Derek in his laughs. You waited for one of Spencer’s famous info-dumps, where he would talk about how red lipstick used to be made out of crushed beetles in Ancient Egypt or something, but he was still silent, lips parted like he meant to say something but couldn’t figure out what.

“Do you need me to reset you or something?” you were now having a bit of fun with it. It wasn’t like you were trying to be mean, but both of you had been dancing around unspoken feelings for a while now.

“I… you look pretty.” Spencer finally managed to say.

You put the mug to your lips, trying to hide the blood that was rushing to your cheeks as Morgan whistled.

“Go on, wonder boy.”

“Derek? Shut up.” then, you looked at Spencer again, who was timidly smiling at you.“Thanks.” you mumbled.

Spencer looked at the mug on your hands, focusing on the stain of your lipstick on the rim of the mug.

“Uh, did you know that the first known red lipsticks were created by crushing gemstones in Mesopotamia over 5.000 years ago?”

•

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

I Can See You | Spencer Reid

Add yourself to my taglist! | Here’s my masterlist!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: When Penelope's best friend comes to help out the BAU on a couple of cases, there's an immediate connection with the youngest of the team. After longing glances, soft touches and wild fantasies, the truth comes out accidentally. What is the resident genius going to do with that information?

Warnings: mention of serial killers and bombings, inappropriate thoughts

Author's note: I've wanted to write this one every single time I listened to the song but when @pastanest wrote it first, I was scared to do it too because that one is just too good (read it here)!! Anyways, hope y'all like this one, too :)

Words: 3K

Being Penelope Garcia’s best friend came with a lot of perks. Aside from it being impossible to ever be sad around her, it also came with the perk of doing the odd job at Quantico. We had met during her days as the Black Queen online and ever since, she had taught me all she knew about hacking and tech analysis. While she worked for the FBI, I worked across the yard at the Capitol as tech support. 

Her job was a little more tantalizing – sometimes more traumatizing – than mine. While I simply helped the employees with their technical issues, Penelope actually helped save people. 

And sometimes, she called for my help with a case whenever she figured everything would go so much faster with some helping hands and flexible fingers. 

The first time she had called me on a case, I didn’t even know what I was in for. She just told me to get to Quantico as soon as I possibly could, that it was a matter of life and death. So, I packed everything up, and rushed across the street to the FBI building. I didn’t even bother to tell my boss. I was certain Penelope’s boss would vouch for me and get me out of trouble, even though I had  never met him. 

“Thank you so much for coming, y/n/n,” said Penelope as she took me into a hug as soon as I burst through the front doors and into the hallway. 

“Penny, what’s happening? Are you okay?” I asked and held her at a short distance to inspect her for any injuries. 

She waved away my question. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she said and grabbed my hand to drag me towards reception where I had to register. It wasn’t until after my bag had been inspected and I passed through security that she started to explain what was happening. “We’re working on this really tough case and though my dainty fingers are quick at tip tapping away on the keyboard, I’m gonna need your genius to get me the answers twice as fast.” 

On the way up to the sixth floor, she briefed me about the case, just so I was up to speed before we actually started. I was too distracted listening to her rambles that I didn’t even notice another person rushing through the hallway on our way from the elevators to her office. 

My shoulder bumped into theirs, causing me to stumble ever so slightly, but firm hands on my shoulders kept me from actually falling. “Oof, sorry!” The both of us apologized at the same time. 

What I didn’t expect to happen when I looked up at the person was being so taken aback by the beautiful pair of eyes that locked onto mine. The hazel orbs had tiny gold specks in them, making them look almost honey-colored. 

I was so distracted by his eyes, I didn’t catch Penelope’s mischievous smirk she would only get whenever she had expertly set me up with someone when we were out at a bar or a party. 

“Y/N/N, this is my wonderful colleague and resident genius, Spencer Reid. Reid, this is my almost-as-sexy-and-smart-as-me best friend, y/n y/l/n,” she introduced us as the guy – Spencer – retracted his hands from my shoulders, convinced I was steady enough on my feet. 

He offered me a smile that nearly wiped me off my feet again. “Hi, nice to meet you.” 

My lips curled into a smile that mirrored his. He didn’t offer his hand to shake, so I decided not to offer mine, either. “Ditto, Spencer,” I said instead, unable to tear my eyes away from his. 

“Okay,” Penelope then interrupted, “Enough chit-chat. We gotta go!” As I managed a quick wave at Spencer, my best friend pulled me along to her office where we settled behind her computer screens. While she explained how her system worked, my mind involuntarily drifted off to the disarming genius I met in the hallway. 

For hours, Penelope and I worked on the case together, taking turns in getting drinks and food to keep us nutritioned. We were discussing a list of potential UnSubs after we had finished our lunch and I was chewing on the straw of my Sprite when Spencer burst into the room. 

“Garcia, y/l/n, I’ve got something to narrow the search,” he said, causing my heart to flutter at how my last name sounded from his lips. He leaned between us, placing a piece of paper on the desk. His stomach was pressed against my shoulder whilst his arm brushed mine. 

A chill ran down my spine, but I remained poised, trying to be professional. “Those are the places he went to in the last twenty-four hours?” I asked, deducting the theory from the map in front of me. 

Spencer had drawn lines across the map, connecting at least five dots. “Uh-huh,” he hummed, then leaned in closer, his face right next to mine. “We were able to get these locations from the GPS of the rental car he used and ditched at the last murder site.” 

His breath felt hot against my skin, but it didn’t stop me from starting to tap away on the keyboard, trying to find any CCTV footage from any of the establishments in the neighborhood of those locations. Within seconds, I’d found some footage from a service station where the UnSub was seen leaving the shop. 

“Was this what you needed?” I asked sassily and turned my head to look at him. He was a lot closer than I anticipated him to be, my nose nearly grazed his cheek. Even up close he was pretty. 

He stood up straight again, much to my dismay, and offered me a shy smile. “Only if you can give me a name, too,” he told me. 

Raising my eyebrows challengingly, I turned back to the computer and ran the footage through Penelope’s software. Within seconds, I found a name, his age and address, which was someone on the list of suspects Penelope and I had been looking at for the past ten minutes. 

“Can you send that to the team?” he asked as he took out his phone, already dialing one of the team’s numbers. 

“Already did, pretty boy,” I smirked and watched as he walked away with a quick ‘thank you’ thrown over his shoulder towards us. When I turned back to Penelope, she looked at me with that teasing look she would only ever give me when she was about to give me shit. “What?” I asked. 

“Nothing,” she sang, though her face said something else entirely. 

I didn’t feel like getting into it. It wasn’t like I was going to see Spencer again. This was a one-time thing. Or at least, that was what I thought. It wasn’t until Penelope called me two weeks later with the same request. Even then I managed to stay somewhat professional around Spencer. 

But they didn’t leave it at two times. At least five more cases, I was asked to help Penelope out on. It didn’t bother me, at all. In fact, I actually enjoyed helping the BAU team on their cases. It gave me the opportunity to work together with my very best friend as well as secretly flirt with the young doctor. And, you know, learn something new and everything.

Every time I saw him, I could just imagine him pushing me against a wall and kissing me senseless. Every brush of the arm, every longing gaze we directed to one another. It all drove me completely insane, but there was not much I could do about it but sit back and act as professional as I possibly could. 

When we finished case number five, I was packing up my stuff and exited Penelope’s lair. My mind was still racing with the images I had seen about this gruesome case, but all of it seemingly cleared up when my eyes landed on the person standing at the very end of the hallway. 

“Oh, hi, Spencer,” I greeted with a smile as I approached him. 

He offered me that same knee-buckling smile. “Hi, y/n. I wanted to-uh, I wanted to check up on you. See if you were doing all right?” 

I wanted to push him against the wall and kiss his jaw. That man was the most considerate person alive and it was absolutely turning me on. Coughing, I recomposed myself. I couldn’t act upon these feelings building inside of me. 

“I am,” I said. “Though, I got to admit, this last case was a whole lot more brutal than the previous ones I helped on. It’s gonna haunt me for days.” I let out a chuckle, taking my eyes off him for a second. 

Spencer hummed. “Yeah, it, uh, it takes a while to get used to it.” 

“Do you ever get used to that?” 

Chuckling, Spencer shook his head. “No, not really…” 

A chuckle rolled off my lips too and for a moment, the two of us fell silent. It was a comfortable silence with the two of us just gazing into each other’s eyes as if we were under a spell. I knew that if I didn’t break eye contact, I would actually kiss him. 

“I, uh, I’m gonna go home,” I told him and finally tore my gaze off him. 

“Right,” he mumbled and turned towards the elevator. “You-uh, you want me to walk you to your car?” 

Eyes widening, I almost immediately let out a sharp, “No!” The moment he and I would’ve stepped out together, I would’ve jumped his bones. I coughed to recompose myself again. “No, I’m okay,” I repeated, softer this time. 

“Oh, okay,” Spencer nodded and stepped aside. “Well, I’ll, uh… I’ll see you another time then?” 

I offered him a smile. “Yeah, see you next time.” 

From the second I left the BAU, Spencer occupied my mind for the foreseeable future. Every corner I turned, every meal I had, every day I worked at my regular day job at the Capitol,... Spencer had taken over my mind and every fiber of my being. 

It had been a good week since I had last seen the BAU team, since I had last spoken to Spencer. I couldn’t focus at all. He was all I could think about to the point where I couldn’t even properly function. I had to do something about it. Even if it was just getting that feeling of frustration off my chest. 

That was why I had marched my way over to the BAU, went through the protocol at FBI security and clipped on my Visitor’s badge before trudging down to Penelope’s lair where I burst through the door without even knocking. She had given me the code to get in, so I didn’t have to knock. 

“Y/N? What are you–”

I ignored her and plopped down on the sofa with a groan. “I don’t know what to do anymore, Penny,” I told her defeatedly, resting my head back against the back of the sofa and looking up at the ceiling. 

“About what?” she asked. 

“Spencer, of course.” I didn’t catch Penelope’s wide-eyed look as I continued my tirade. “Unfortunately, I need him in a way that will defy the laws of space and time and set feminism back seventy years.” Rubbing my hands over my face, I rolled my head back to look at my best friend, who hadn’t given her unsolicited opinion immediately like she always did. 

That was when I saw the look of horror on her face. “Sugar plum,” she started, “Don’t be mad but…” My eyes landed on the device with the blinking red light behind her. She had been on a call and I could all but guess who was on that call. 

“No,” I muttered, my heart plummeting to my stomach and my cheeks heating up in embarrassment. “Don’t tell me –” 

Penelope pressed a button, putting her coworkers on speaker rather than through her headset. All I could hear was Derek’s and Emily’s giggles. “Wow, y/n,” came JJ’s voice, a bemused lilt in her tone. “I did not expect that coming from you.” 

I squeezed my eyes shut before rushing forward and pressing what I thought to be the mute button. “Why didn’t you mute us as soon as I came in?” I asked before starting to pace the length of the room, but didn’t give Penelope the chance to answer. “Now everyone knows and to make it all worse – Spencer now knows.” 

“Oh, mama, it’s not like we didn’t already know,” came Morgan’s voice through hiccups of laughter. 

“PENELOPE!” I screeched, realizing I hadn’t pressed the right button. 

With a simple shrug, Penelope turned to me. “Maybe it’s not so bad?” she tried and I just groaned in frustration before turning on my heel and leaving her lair. Now I had to debate whether to wait for Spencer to come back and explain everything to him or to just go home and never show my face here again. 

There wasn’t much of a chance for me to think about it because the team quickly filed back into the offices. As soon as my eyes landed on Spencer, I froze. Our eyes met and I could tell he wanted to tell me something, but there was a serial bomber to catch. Rather than leaving and going home, I decided to stick around and help Penelope. 

But before I could head over to Penelope’s lair, it was impossible to avoid the other’s relentless comments. Through a sea of giggles and quoting of what I had said to Penelope in confidence, I made my way through the bullpen, rolling my eyes. 

“I’m gonna get a cup of tea,” I told Penelope, getting up from my seat in her lair. “You want one?” 

“Yes, please, sugar,” she answered without taking her eyes off her screen. 

With a chuckle, I left the office and made my way to the break room where I put on the kettle for two cups of tea. While I busied myself picking out a flavor, my mind drifted off to what I could possibly say to Spencer if I ever got the chance. 

“Oh,” I heard the mumble behind me and when I turned around, I found Spencer in the doorway. “Hi.” He smiled a little awkwardly before making his way to the coffee pot. 

I returned the gesture. “Hi.” 

My eyes were trained on him while he poured the coffee and scribbled something down on a notepad beside him. My mind filtered through every possible word combination possible. I was so distracted, the click of the kettle turning off startled me. 

As I poured the hot water into two cups, Spencer placed a folded piece of paper in front of me on the counter and scurried away before I could possibly react. Curiosity rising within me, I unfolded the piece of paper, only to find “Meet me tonight” written in his scrawny handwriting. 

“That’s not vague at all,” I scoffed before pocketing it and continuing making the tea. Once the teabags were in, I made my way back to Penelope’s office, but not without one last glance at Spencer in the bullpen. Together with Derek and Emily, he was bent over a file on Emily’s desk. 

He seemingly felt my eyes on him as he, too, looked at me. Feeling my cheeks heat up underneath his gaze, I quickly looked away and rushed towards my best friend. I leaned my back against the door as soon as I shut it, trying to catch my breath. 

“What’s gotten into you, pumpkin?” Penelope asked when she saw the state of me. 

I chuckled and rolled my eyes, annoyed at myself that I let a man make me feel this way. “Not Spencer, unfortunately.” My best friend let out a loud cackle. “He gave me this note–” I placed her octopus mug in front of her before handing her the note. 

“That’s vague,” she mumbled, her brows furrowed. 

“Exactly what I thought,” I grumbled. “He was gone before I could even ask.” 

Penelope tsked before patting the chair that had been mine for the last couple of weeks. With a sigh, I plopped down carefully so as to not spill my hot tea. For the next hour, I tried to focus on the case more than on Spencer and what I was going to say to him. 

However, it was hard not to think about him. 

So, once the case was wrapped up, I packed up my stuff and went out to the hall where Spencer had waited for me merely a week ago. I didn’t even bother to say goodbye to Penelope as I would be seeing her soon anyway and she knew I had to do what I had to do. 

It took a couple of minutes before Spencer walked out of the bullpen, eyes focused on the phone in his hand. 

“‘Meet me tonight’?” I asked, capturing his attention. His honey eyes met mine, his lips twitching into a smile. “Could you be any more vague?” 

“Sorry,” he chuckled and chucked his phone into his pocket again. “I just–” he sighed, unable to finish his sentence. Another soft laugh rolled off his lips as he looked down to the squeaky-clean floor of the FBI Headquarters. He looked back up at me, his eyes tender and searching for something I didn’t even know. 

“What?”

Not even bothering to answer my question, Spencer grabbed my hand and tugged me into the closest room, which happened to be the family room. As soon as the door was shut, he pushed me against the wall by kissing me, his hands on my hips to hold me in place. 

“Does this set feminism back seventy years?” he asked between kisses to my lips and jaw. 

My toes curled and my stomach fluttered. This was all I had been dreaming of ever since I met him that first day. I had wanted him flush against me, fingers tangling up in my hair and his tongue warm against mine. 

“No,” I breathed while he worked his way down my neck in open-mouthed kisses. “But it does defy the laws of space and time.” 

The words seemingly set something animalistically off in Spencer as his kisses became hungrier and his hands roamed my body in ways I had never been touched before. He gave me enough to brag to Penelope about the next day. 

He gave me everything I had been dreaming of. 

Everything taglist: @calamitykaty@littlemissaddict @n0wornever @wanniiieeeee @unnowhatthisistbhbh

Criminal Minds Taglist: @boimlers-gonna-boim @samsbirks@tinaasthings @dysphoricsanity @love4lando @elenamoncada-ibarra @r-3dlips @magstheslayer @astess 

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Something Old, Something New

Spencer Reid used to know everything about Y/N Y/L/N. But what happens when ten years after they last saw each other, they just so happen to bump into one another.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~2.7k

TW: Brief mentions of domestic violence, the slightest implications of DV, mentions of guns, Spencer hating JJ, colorful language.

Notes: This is my first ever fan fiction and so I’d absolutely love some feedback! I really want to expand this into either a full sized fic, or a series. Would anyone be interested in that ???? This takes place during S7E1 in which the team is on Trial because of their actions with Ian Doyle, Declan Doyle, and the others. One of my fav Reid episodes, and just a good one overall. Side note, it’s barely edited, apologies in advance. 

GIF not mine.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“If you want to punish me for taking a risk, then I encourage you to do that, but do not put the rest of my team on trial for something I suggested.” The words flew out of his mouth. Some might think it was because he wasn’t thinking clearly. But he was. Senator Cramer was not amused. “Calm down Agent.”

“This is calm, and it’s doctor.”

“That’s all then, Doctor Reid.”  

“Thank you, Senator.” His chair scraped across the floor as he stood up. Spencer turned around and exited the jury room, door slamming behind him.

The team all stared as he stalked past them, and out towards the bathroom. JJ started to follow him before Derek put his hand up in front of her.

“Derek–”

“Let him go JJ.”

She sighed before turning around and walking the opposite direction. Just then, one of the clerks opened the door to the room and requested that Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia enter next.

As Spencer walked towards the bathroom, his mind was racing a million miles an hour. His anger was surely justified and the Senator was not listening to him, at all. Especially since the only thing the committee really even wants to do is have an excuse to transplant every one of his teammates—

“Shit!”

Spencer had collided with someone. Head on.

“O-oh, I’m..” He quickly bent down to help her pick up the various items now strewn across the floor, due to his negligence to his surroundings.

“I’m so sorry.” He managed to sputter out before actually managing to look up to the person he bumped into, holding out the remaining item on the floor–a small black binder, clearly heavier than it looked.

The woman he had run into smiled quickly, but kindly at him.

“It’s okay—thank you—don’t worry about it. Could’ve had a coffee or something in my hand and then we would have had a serious issue.” She placed the binder back into her bag, somehow already neatly organized despite being completely empty and on the floor a minute before. She laughed a little before smiling at him.

Reid smiled back at her.

“I-I really am sorry about all your….” He tapered off. “Y/N?”

Y/N really looked at him for a moment before her whole face shifted. “Spencer?”

Both stared at one another in the hallway until a voice called over to the two of them “Hey Pretty Boy, we’re getting called in.”

Y/N tilted her head, a small smirk making its way across her lips.

“...Pretty Boy?”

“Yeah—–Well. No. It’s his nickname for me, uh..”

“Reid!”

She smiled at him. “Go Spencer. I’m here all day. Maybe you should look for me downstairs in the library when you’re done testifying in…” she peered around him and looked at where Derek was standing. “Federal Court? Oh Spencer, didn’t know you had become such a rule breaker.”

“A lot’s happened in the past ten years Y/N.” He smiled at her before turning around and walking towards Derek who pushed his lips together, trying not to make a bigger scene than before.

“Are we going to talk about whoever that is?”

“Nope.” Spencer pushed past Derek and into the courtroom.

_________________________________________________________

Once the team, except for Prentiss, was released into the hallway, JJ tried to grab Spencer's hand.

“Spence—”

“Not now Jennifer.” Spencer quickly maneuvered himself away from JJ, and headed towards the double doors at the end of the hall.

“Reid…” JJ tried again, but Spencer just pushed past the doors and walked down the stairs. He walked down two flights before exiting the stairwell. He found himself in front of the library, next to a small local cafe that clearly catered to exhausted lawyers and their incessant clients. Reid walked past the little cafe and entered the library. He realized that he didn’t know what type of Law Y/N practiced so he wouldn’t know where in the library she would be, but it wouldn’t matter since she was sitting at one of the tables next to the windows, trying to soak up as much sun while she withered away in the library. She sat with her back to the doors, maybe because the glare was too blinding on the laptop in front of her, or maybe because she couldn’t stop looking up at the entrance hoping a certain Doctor would enter.

Spencer approached her and stood in front of the empty chair.

“This taken?”

Y/N looked up, smiled, and nodded.

“By you Doctor Reid. Please, have a seat.”

Spencer laughed lightly and sat down.

“I feel like I’m in a client meeting.”

Y/N shook her head and closed her laptop.

“Not unless you have something you need a divorce lawyer for Reid.”

Reid looked at the books scattered in front of her, noting what books she had, and what cases she had opened them to.

“Tough case?” He nodded towards the books that she was busy tidying and shoving off to the side. Y/N sighed and stacked the books on the side of the table near the window.

“Not necessarily anything I can’t deal with, it’s just brutal to see someone be repeatedly assaulted by their husband, and–I’m sorry. That’s so…That’s so grim, I didn’t mean to bring the mood, um, down.” She laughed nervously and tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear.

“Believe it or not, that is probably a regular topic on a weekly basis for me.” Spencer gave her a sheepish smile.

“Wh-” She smiled and shook her head. A ray of sun was slowly stretched across her face, illuminating her eyes, and captivating Spencer. “Well, Doctor Reid. Tell me what a man like you is doing with three PhDs and multiple Bachelor's degrees these days in which you deal with such graphic topics and have to be on trial in Federal Court?”

Reid smiled at his folded hands. “I’m a–uh–profiler for the FBI’s BAU—Behavioural Analysis Unit. We, uh, look at the way an unsub–unknown subject–behaves, as well as the victims behavior, and create profiles based off of that information to help law enforcement agencies, at every level, across the country.” Spencer finished his ramble by biting his bottom lip, and smiling at her. “As for the trail…my team led an operation that was…not at all by the book.”

Y/n nodded, choosing, for Spencer’s sake, to not prod further into the reason he was at the courthouse.“So can you analyze people just by…looking at them?”

Spencer nodded at her. “Yeah, I mean that’s not all that we do. We make preliminary personality profiles yes, but I’ve also made linguistic profiles and geographical profiles–But, uh, y-yeah I can do that…”

“So profile me then Doctor Reid.”

Reid’s brain short circuited at that moment. “I-uh, you. Um. You want me to….”

“Profile me. Yes.” Y/N bit her lip. “Unless, you’re lying to me Spencer.”

Spencer took a breath before locking eyes with her.

“You’re wearing a tailor made dress for you, which means you have enough money to be able to buy nice clothes, and buy someone’s labor to make them for you. Since the dress is well made and uses an expensive material, the case today is really important to you–from the books I’m assuming a messy divorce involving domestic abuse since that is what all of your books are about, and it involves weapons of some type, most likely guns, because one of those books is dedicated entirely to United States versus Hayes, which deals with convicted domestic abusers not being allowed to purchase guns or have a gun license. When I sat down you also had one of the books open to District of Columbia versus Heller, which deals with an individual’s right to possess a firearm unless they’re a convicted felon or mentally ill. You’re not wearing any makeup which means you’re confident about this case, and your client, regardless of her current physical state. It also means you’re confident in yourself, and don't feel the need to hide your face in any way. You’re wearing shoes that add about three inches to your height so that you’ll appear taller in court to make yourself seem like a bigger presence, as well as assert your previously mentioned confidence in this case and your stance in it. The binder you carry is smaller in size, but heavier than expected meaning you probably have a tablet, maybe an IPad, in there for any paper you don’t actually need a physical copy of, which tells me you’re environmentally conscious, or you’re trying to be. Because you also had a plastic water bottle in your purse which means that you knew you had a long day today, but probably also had a long day and or night yesterday since your prep towards yourself was minimal—shall I keep going?”

Y/N was looking at him with that look he simply could not figure out. “If you want Spencer. I’m quite enjoying it.”

He licked his lips before nodding at the coffee cup on the table. “You’re exhausted. I can tell since you’re no longer wearing your shoes, and your hair is now up. You probably work better with your hair up, which stems from the fact that you danced as a child. Hair up means getting to work. You’re also exhausted since you needed espresso. That cup says you’re drinking four shots of espresso in your latte. But it’s probably because you’ve put a lot of thought and time into this case. Which is good for your clients since they need someone who is compassionate and empathizes—” Spencer stopped short. His realization did not go unnoticed by her.

“Did you figure something out, Doctor Reid?”

“You…..Was it….?”

“No.” She sighed before reaching across the table and putting her hand on top of Reid’s clasped ones. His entire body was immediately filled with static.

“No Spencer. But maybe that’s enough profiling for the day, yeah?”

Spencer nodded before darting his eyes around the library.

“Would you, uh, maybe want to go get lunch, um, with me?”

Y/N smiled at him and nodded. “I would love nothing more, Doctor. Shall we?”

Spencer nodded and stood up, watching as she quickly, yet efficiently packed away her laptop, the binder and the rest of her things. She stood up, grabbed all three of the books, her bag, and her coffee.

“At least let me carry one of those books y/n–”

“Spencer, thank you, but I got this. Remember? Strong, confident woman here.” She teased him before walking over and dropping them off at the librarians desk. Reid followed behind her, still trying to fully decode the woman he once knew everything about.

“Want to take the stairs? I have this irrational fear that I’ll get stuck or die in an elevator, or both.” she mused looking at Spencer.

“As someone who has gotten stuck in an elevator, I have to agree. Did you know that according to the National Elevator Industry, there are approximately 27 recorded elevator-related deaths a year, with over 10,000 related injuries?”

Y/N paused before she opened the door to the stairwell. Spencer thought she was going to cancel the lunch. He had spewed before they even made it out of the building. But instead, she laughed a little bit.

“There’s a National Elevator Industry Company?” Out of all the things to come out of her mouth, that was not what he had expected.

“Well, yes. They’re technically the National Elevator Industry Incorporated, but yeah.”

She made a sound surprise before nodding and heading into the stairwell. “Well I’m glad we’re not volunteering to be victims 28 and 29 then.”

Spencer smiled again, and let out a laugh of agreement.  

“I did want to ask you about that sweater vest though. It’s quite....something Spencer...”

______________________________________________________________

By the time the two had reached the main doors to the outside, both were giggling incessantly as Reid recalled the time he got stuck in an elevator with his coworker, Derek. Y/N paused their conversation to say a quick goodbye to the security guards working.

“You know all of their names?” Spencer was slightly astonished, knowing how quick the turnaround was for a job like that, barely even considering the sheer amount of security guards.

“It’s important to thank them since they have to stand there and deal with every single person who comes in or out of the Court. Might as well try to make their day a little better. Besides..” She opened the door for Reid to exit through. “When you’re nice, they’re a little more lenient about…oh I don’t know…plastic water bottles and other things that you’re not technically allowed to bring into a courthouse.”

Spencer smiled at her as they walked down the steps. “And you called me a rule breaker.”

“Well Pretty Boy, I can’t follow all the rules, what fun would that be?” Spencer became flustered as she smiled politely and waved to some of her colleagues as they finished walking down the steps.

“So Mr. Profiler, where are you taking me to lun–”

“Spence!”

Spencer outwardly rolled his eyes, his face steeling up at the sound of the heels coming towards them. Y/n was now profiling him as he excused himself and turned around to face JJ.

“What.”

“Wow–uh—Spence look, I–”

Spencer huffed in annoyance. “Is there something you want Jennifer?”

JJ gave Y/n an apologetic smile before turning towards Spencer. “Hotch and Strauss need us back at the office. We have to, uh, discuss next steps in case of reassignment.”

Y/n watched as Spencer managed to steel himself up tighter than before. “Yeah. Alright. I’ll meet you all there.”

“Well actually we—”

Spencer tried to cut her off again before Derek decided to interrupt, He had been watching the whole interaction. He moved over to the small group. “Reid, we have to leave now.”

Spencer huffed in annoyance and shot him a look but Serek didn’t notice. He had turned towards Y/n at that point, and turned on that classic Derek Morgan Charm. “Didn’t know Pretty Boy could even associate with such a beautiful woman. The name’s Derek.”

He held out his hand for Y/n to take. And she did, shaking it twice before retreating her hand.

Spencer turned to you, with the hint of a devious smile, and nodded in Derek’s direction. “That’s the Derek.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up with amusement, before turning back to Derek. A smile burst across her face. “Oh my god, Spence. This is him?”

Derek looked at Reid, and then back at Y/n, and then back at Reid. “Reid, what is she talking about…”

Spencer just shrugged before turning his back completely to JJ, who seemed more upset by the second at Spencer’s distantness than at Morgan’s blatant attempt to charm his way into Y/n’s heart.

“Yes! Doctor Reid here was just telling me about your adventures on the BAU.”

Derek smiled and nodded at Spencer. “All good things I hope.”

“Oh absolutely. It’s an honor to meet the person who got stuck in an elevator and freaked the fuck out with Spencer all those years ago.”

Derek’s jaw hit the floor, and JJ was pretty speechless herself. Spencer had the smirk of a lifetime written all over his face. Y/n took the opportunity to walk over, and give Spencer a quick kiss on the cheek.

“You still owe me lunch sometime, Doctor Reid.” She winked at him before pulling out her ringing phone, and answering.

Spencer, JJ, and Derek watched her walk away.

“Who the hell was that?” Derek eventually managed out before looking at Reid with a mixture of awe and proudness across his face.

“My former ‘girl next door’.” Spencer smiled, before walking off towards Hotch, Rossi, Garcia, and Emily, ready to head back to the BAU with a newfound determination. The first was to get this god forsaken meeting over with. And the second was to find out everything he could about Y/F/N, Y/L/N.

[radiant-reid]

An Out of The Ordinary Meeting

Summary: Derek sets Spencer up with a friend of his... an ex-girlfriend, who also knows another member of the BAU personally

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (fluff)

Content Warning: couple of suggestive comments

Word Count: 2.5k

Masterlist | Navigation

Since Spencer confided in Elle about his struggles to get a date, she has been a little worried about him. After three years, he has roots in DC and is an eligible candidate for a girlfriend. Even if he's not saying anything, she can tell he wishes he had someone, someone to talk to and spend time with.

So, like any good friend, she hates a plan with someone with a lot of dating experience. "We need to get Reid a girlfriend." She tells Morgan.

"What, he can't do it himself?" Morgan asks.

Elle glares at him but answers honestly. "No, I don't think he can."

"Exactly." He says. "How could I possibly help him? You've got to admit he's awkward with girls." She nods in agreement. She had seen it before. Even if he wasn't interested in dating them, he couldn't talk to them. "He's uncoachable."

She shakes her head, trying a different strategy. "Surely you know someone who would date him."

"Yeah, maybe, but I'd have to whisper in his ear what to say." He disagrees. "And I do not want to be doing that at the end of the night if you know what I mean."

Unfortunately, she did know, and she didn't like that. "Yuck!" She exclaims, but she spots a reinforcement. "Garcia." She calls their friend over.

"No, no, no." Morgan shakes his head.

"What's wrong?" Elle teases as Penelope joins them.

"You're playing dirty getting my baby girl involved." Morgan answers.

Penelope frowns at both of them. "Involved in what?"

"Reid's dating life." Elle says, determined to talk first to get her point across. "He needs to meet someone and Derek is refusing to help."

"I practice charity in other ways." Morgan defends himself, promptly getting jabbed in the ribs by Penelope. "Ouch."

She scowls at him. "You need to help him out." She instructs him. "He might be awkward but he's sweet and he deserves to have someone great. Introduce him to someone, although you should tell me her name first so I can double-check."

If Morgan thought he was losing to Elle, he knows he's got no chance of opting out if they're both in agreement. "Alright, fine. I might know someone." He concedes. "Not sure she'll even agree, though."

"Oh, there's a story there." Penelope, although not a profiler, catches his tone.

Morgan sits down at his desk, sighing. "Yes, there is."

~

One of the last people Y/n is expecting to get a call from one random Tuesday night is Derek Morgan, but she answers, feeling more worry than she feels bothered. He wouldn't call unless something had happened, which is probably the only reason she kept his number. "Hey, Derek." She says, crossing her legs where she sits on the couch.

"Y/n, hi." He replies. "How are you?"

It's not what she was expecting him to ask. "Good. Is this an annual booty call?" She wonders playfully. There's no bad blood, but they didn't stay friends after the breakup.

"It's not." He assures her before adding a typical Derek Morgan line. "Unless you want it to be."

She scoffs, shaking her head even though he can't see. "Nope, sorry, D. Why'd you call?"

"I need a favor." He tells her.

"For me to sleep with you?" She wonders, both of them laughing.

"For you to sleep with someone else." He says. "Eventually."

She frowns at what he's saying, unsure about what his game is. "Like you're a pimp?"

"Like I'm cupid." He returns quickly. "I'm trying to find you your soulmate."

She laughs slightly at his offer. "That's an awful lot for my ex-boyfriend to be doing for me."

"I promise there's no other game here," Derek says, and she's inclined to believe him. "He's a good guy, smart, respectful, heroic."

"I usually go for gym-loving black belts with muscles for days." She jokes. "He sounds maybe more like your type."

He laughs at that, shaking his head. "So you'll go out with him?" He asks hopefully. He hears her sigh through the phone. "One date, and if he's the worst date ever, I'll stay out of your love life. And when you get married, I want to be the best man."

"Whoa, slow your roll, cowboy." She stops him. "I'll agree to meet him, but I really don't think you should be meddling in my love life."

He chuckles. "It's a little unconventional." He agrees. "Also, you know I'm a Bears fan."

It's hard to forget. "Chicago through and through."

"Tuesday night, I'll text you where." He tells her. "Wear something sexy."

"Derek Morgan-"

"Bye."

Her growling gets cut off by his farewell, and she knows he hung up smirking.

~

She’s not sure why she agrees, but she has time to think about it over the next few days. Maybe it’s because she wanted an excuse to get out of HITT with her colleagues. If it is Derek, and she’s 50% sure it’s going to be, she can make him pay for a delicious lobster dinner, flirt with him, and leave him hanging, and if it’s not… well, she just hopes Derek’s friends are hot, then the evening might have a fun ending.

He’s picked an upscale restaurant- somewhere she wouldn’t pick if she had to foot the bill entirely- and she’s glad she put on fancier make up after work as well as pulling out a new dress, figuring it might as well get some wear.

“Derek Morgan for two.” She tells the hostess. “Or maybe Y/n L/n?”

“It’s under Derek Morgan.” She informs her, slipping out from behind the desk to guide her to the table. “You’re the first to arrive.”

She’s early but being late is a Morgan move. Like the time in college when he left her in the library for an extra two hours while he was doing whatever he was doing- his hair, she had guessed- for their date. Karma got him when he failed the test she spent the time studying for.

Their table is by the window of the restaurant where she can see out at the Potomac and the setting sun. Between that and picking out a cocktail, she doesn’t notice someone’s in front of her until he clears his throat.

It is not Derek Morgan.

He's about as different from Derek as it gets.

The differences are physical, and almost nothing about them lines up, but it's how they carry themselves, too. Whoever this is isn't half as confident as Derek.

He's dressed in a suit, expensive and probably Italian. The deep blue suits him well, and between his cheekbones and styled hair, he’s gorgeous.

"I'm S-Spencer- Doctor Spencer, uh, Reid." He introduces himself with as much gaucheness as he can muster. Something about it is endearing. "You don't have to call me Doctor. Or Reid, just- just Spencer works."

She rises to shake his hand. "I'm Y/n L/n." She introduces herself. "Derek didn't tell me you'd be so cute."

And he blushes, a bright red hue filling his cheeks at the compliment. It's almost cuter than the little smile he first gave her. He clears his throat, frantically searching for what to say. "Th-thank you."

"Sit, if you like." Y/n offers, realizing he's far too timid to take control of the situation.

He's much different than anyone she's ever been on a date with, totally opposing her strong, confident type. But it's yet to work out with one of them, so she figures she should give Spencer a chance.

And he's funny. With some wine in him, he's less awkward and more comfortable cracking jokes and telling stories. He's trying to impress her, not just expecting her to be impressed by his long list of degrees and achievements. He asks all the right questions, talking about himself the right amount. She can't find anything that's a reason not to like him.

Spencer pays for dinner without a second thought, slipping his card into the bill without looking at the total. It's not sinister or with expectations of where the evening's going.

"You know I don't usually do this," Y/n says once they're back outside. "But is there any chance you're in the mood for coffee back at my place?" She offers.

He doesn't catch the implication. "Yeah, I like coffee."

They have coffee that night...and the following morning.

She's glad she followed Derek's instructions and wore something sexy. Just seeing the look in Spencer's eyes when her dress slid off, revealing deep red lingerie, was worth it.

He didn't get any less sweet during their evening together, inexperienced and nervous but so willing to please. It was perfect.

Spencer left early the next morning to get to Quantico on time, not without them exchanging numbers and ways they knew Derek. Spencer tried to keep his reaction neutral, but he didn't expect her to be his friend's ex-girlfriend.

"Why did you tell me?" He demands when sees Derek sitting at his desk, interrupting the chatter between Derek, Garcia, and Elle rudely.

"Tell you what?" Morgan asks confused, spinning back in his chair.

Spencer glares at him. "That Y/n, who you set me up with, is your ex-girlfriend." Truthfully, he's mad about it. How does he stand a chance when she dated someone like Derek Morgan?

Garcia's mouth drops open as Elle's eyes widen. "No, you didn't!" Garcia says in horror, like he's committed a crime.

And maybe it is a crime against Bro-code, although usually, the rule is against dating your friend's ex-girlfriends, not against setting your ex-girlfriend up with your friend.

Either way, it's complicated.

Elle jumps in with Garcia's scolding. "Derek, come on!"

"Hey, hey, hey." He holds his hands up in defense when he's listened to them telling him off for long enough. "It clearly wasn't a problem."

Spencer frowns as the girls do, but he's more concerned than confused. "Wh-what? Why do you say that?" He splutters out quickly, voice getting squeaky and his cheeks going bright red.

"Come on!" Derek complains. "He's wearing the same thing he wore yesterday. He just put a cardigan over top of it."

Guilty.

He's been caught red-handed, and he doesn't know what to do besides awkwardly standing there, realizing they all know he got lucky last night.

"That's... that's beside the point," Spencer says quietly, chewing on his bottom lip.

Derek laughs loudly, shaking his head while the girls tease him. "You should be thanking me, man." He reminds his friend.

Spencer is thankful and so damn grateful. He's never had a connection with someone- intellectually, romantically, sexually- like he has with Y/n.

"Thank you." He whispers quietly before taking a seat at his desk.

Elle has one last serious question. "How do you know her, Morgan?"

"College," Morgan answers briefly. "But all I'll say is I'm not the only BAU member that knows her."

He keeps to his promise, not saying anything else despite the girls and Spencer pestering him about what he meant by that statement.

Who else knew her? She's too young to have dated Hotch or Gideon, so maybe she's a friend of JJ's. That's the best they come up with.

Thankfully, they don't have to wait long because not even ten minutes later, Y/n's walking through the glass doors of the sixth floor of the FBI. Spencer, more than anyone else, is very very surprised. He expected to see her again, but right here, right now?

She walks straight over to their desks, but Morgan's the first one she greets, wrapping her arms around his neck while he hugs her back. "Hey, D, good to see you." She says.

"You, too." He replies, letting her go after a moment. "So, you know Reid." He jokes, nodding to the flustered boy genius squirming in his seat.

"Yeah." She nods, squeezing his shoulder. "How are you doing Doctor Reid?"

"W-well." He answers, beaming up at her. "Re-really good."

She smirks back at him before turning to the two very excited and slightly confused women who are watching the interaction play out eagerly. "I'm Y/n L/n, the ex-girlfriend." She nods to Derek. "And the  new something." Her next nod is to Spencer.

Spencer's never been someone's something, but it sounds perfect. Elle and Garcia both excitedly shake her hand.

Unfortunately, they don't have the chance to ask all of their questions before Hotch makes himself known. "There she is!" He exclaims.

Y/n breaks away from the group, turning around to give him a hug. "Hey, dad."

"Dad?!" Spencer squeals in a whisper-yell, mostly directed at Morgan for not revealing that vital piece of information.

"Yup." Morgan agrees. "That was a surprise for me as well."

Spencer stands there petrified, looking between Y/n and Hotch. "This isn't a joke?" He asks.

"Nope," Morgan answers before filling him in on the details, finally. "Apparently, he was college-age. I met her at Northwestern Law, had no idea Hotch was her dad. It made for a very awkward reintroduction when she came by the BAU, and she had to fill him in on how I was the law school jerk she dated."

At least it wasn't that bad for Spencer. Hotch seemed to like him, but still, he might have negative feelings about Spencer being involved with his daughter.

Once Y/n is briefly caught up with her dad, she turns her attention back to Morgan. "Hey, can I have a word?"

"Sure." He agrees, following her to the conference room and leaving Spencer with Hotch.

Honestly, it's the last place he wants to be. Hotch must know. He's got to, and the more Spencer worries about Hotch figuring out he slept with his daughter, the redder and jumpier he gets.

"Reid, don't worry," Hotch says, not doing the overprotective dad speech that Spencer expected. Knowing Hotch like he knows him, there's no way he isn't protective over his daughter. Add to that two guns, and Spencer's self-preservation instinct is activated. "You can't be a worse boyfriend than Morgan was. Just treat her well, and there won't be a problem."

Spencer gulps, nodding and keeping his head down, only being able to breathe when Hotch returns to his office.

Y/n and Morgan's conversation also has one instructing, but it's Y/n instructing Morgan on something. "When the time comes, you're going to have to help him propose." She tells him, looking out the window subtly at Spencer. He's so cute she can't help her mind travel there.

"I'm a good pimp." Morgan jokes, earning himself a slap on the chest.

"Shush." She tells him. "But thank you. I know it's unconventional, but thanks for setting us up."

He squeezes her shoulder. "You're welcome."

"We're good?" She asks, offering out her hand.

Derek gives her a hug instead. "Always. Now go get your dream guy."

She nods with a smile. "I'm going to. As long as my father hasn't scared him off."

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[milla984]

It's the Great Pumpkin, Spencer Reid

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

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

Category: smut (NSFW, 18+, MDNI)

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

Word Count: 5.4k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You felt his other hand on your waist, hesitant. 

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

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

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

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

“Wait…” he whined, squirming under you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure, no! Ditto,” you confirmed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y– yes…” he muttered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, no… it’s good, I like it…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your brain was going in severe overdrive. 

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

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

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

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

“Your microexpressions say otherwise,” you retorted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Spencer…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How do I feel? Spence...?”

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

“You like it?”

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

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

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

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

“Spence, I need more…” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What if I get…? I mean... again?!”

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

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

[ro-presents-penelopegarciashorts]

NOT REQUESTED

penelope garcia x stud!reader

primarily penelope and the reader. introduces the team at the end, only mentions hotch, derek and jj by name. brief mention of kevin.

Starting your first day at the BAU, you find yourself trapped in the elevator for hours with a beautiful woman that you can't stop yourself from being attracted to.

Pure Fluff.

Unspecified age gap, but reader is an adult. No use of Y/N.

2K WORDS.

"Hold it!" You hear as you step into the elevator. You turn, your back facing the back wall of the elevator. You almost don't hold it, but then, she calls again, "Hold the elevator, please!" 

And, that's when your eyes zero in on her. She's a stand out, if you've ever seen one. Colorful and bright as ever, she reminds you of both a sunshine and a rainbow after a rainy day. You reach out, catching the elevator doors before they could close, willing them to react to you and open up. Her heels clack louder as she puts a pep in her step to catch up, thanking you her entire way there. You don't let go or step back until she makes it into the elevator. She thanks you once again, and you assure her thanks isn't necessary. She turns to you, really, turns to you. 

"I don't think I've ever seen you before," she says, outstretching her hand for you to shake, "Penelope Garcia. My friends call me Garcia. 

You shake her hand as you introduce yourself to her and smirk, "Are you saying you want to be my friend?" 

Garcia smiles and her entire face lights up when she does, "Well, I'm always open to making new friends." 

"Where are you headed to?" You ask. 

"I am going to the BAU." 

Well, this must be fate of sorts. Either that or it was the kindest of coincidences. You were happy for it, regardless. This was your first day training for the reopening of the liasion position. You had been hoping that you would meet someone kind to help you transition into the new job. Your smile overtakes you. 

"Same." 

Penelope looks at you again, like really. Your name bouncing between her ears as she tries to place you. If you were headed there, surely she must have at least heard of you. She knows about all the changes to the unit. Well, the ones that aren't impromtu, anyway. Sometimes, Hotch makes a quick decision that doesn't go all the way through proper channels until after the decision has been made. But, other than that, she knows about it. And, then, it dawns on her. 

"Oh, OH! You're our new liasion!" She puts together, and you nod. "Well, I guess I'm going to have to pay closer attention to BAU pres conferences, now." She says, eyes trailing you from head to toe. Not onces but twice. 

"Ms. Garcia," you say, turning fully to face her, leaning in just a little, "you coming onto me?" 

Her face goes beet red as she giggles, eyes twinkling under her glasses. She opens her mouth to respond, but before she can, the elevator does a psuedo drop before halting completely. It goes dark for a moment, and then the emergency lights come back on. When the lights come back on, the two of you see each other hugging your own corner of the elevator. You kind of fucking hate elavators. 

"Please, tell me this doesn't happen often," you say, breaking the ice. She just shakes her head as she tries to get a handle of her breathing. "It can't be like this for long, can it?" You ask, trying to soothe yourself. She ignores you, still trying to get her breathing under control so she can soothe herself. It takes a lot of mental strength for you to push yourself out of your corner and into hers. You wrap your arms around her, gently, when you cross over and ease the two of you down to the floor. You place her hand on your stomach and model slow deep breaths for her to mimick. It takes a moment for her brain to catch up to the moment, but it does. She follows your league until it works, and she's relaxed a bit. Relaxed enough so that her breathing isn't a source of worry. You give her a gentle smile, then, "No worries. I'm going to just call my new boss and tell him where we are." 

"Good idea, call Hotch." She says, watching as you retrieve your phone from your pocket. Your face drops and so does her heart. Frowning she asks, a little frantic, "What is it? What's wrong?" 

"I don't have service," you mutter, restarting your phone, hoping for it to not be the case. But it is, and you mutter again, "I don't have service." 

She retrieves her own phone from her purse, heart dropping further, "Neither do I." 

You takes a deep breath. You don't know Penelope that well, but you are fairly certain that if you lose your shit, she's going to lose hers. So, you can't. Even though, you want to cry a little. Even though, you are terrified that this metal coffin will become you guys' final resting place. You force yourself to be optimistic, though, for both of your sakes. 

"Okay, it's fine. They'll notice we aren't here, and the generators will start working, and we'll be out of hear in no time." 

No time, has turned into four hours, and it's killing you to not know just how long you're going to be stuck here. But, you guys have found a way to not just pass the time but to keep each other sane. The ultimate question game. Where you combine this or that, would you rather, one must go, where do you stand?, and fact or fiction with the general questions game. It was lighthearted, helped you get to know your coworker, who was becoming forbidden fruit as your attraction started to grow, and most importantly, it kept your mind off the whole being trapping in a floating metal coffin thing. 

"Wine or beer?" She asks. 

"Wine," you say without a second thought. "Would you rather walk a mile of hot coals or swim across a lake of razors and lemon juice?" 

She laughs through a scoff, jaw dropping just so, "What a sadistic question." You shrug, pleased with the dilemna you've created. "You answer," she insists. 

"You can't turn it back around on me," you remind her, "We agreed. It's against the rules." 

She huffs, "I really hate the mile of hot coals, but I am not the strongest swimmer. So, I don't really have a choice, do I?" You shake your head. She huffs, "So, what made you want to join the BAU?" 

"Well, I've always been intrigued by how much the media can sway and swing things. How it can speak to the public and change the way they think, how it can send messages to people, to reach people exactly the way it needed to be reach. So, I worked behind the season, helping to produce a national news show. We reported on a lot, from crime to celebrity scandal to politics. The works. But, some of the messages we were sending, how they were reaching people, it just," you shrugged, "I wasn't happy with what I was doing. I saw first hand how dangerous it could be when the intention wasn't solely to help, and I felt sleazy all the time. So, I changed careers. I wanted to better serve the public. Then, they reopened this position, and I had to apply." 

Penelope smirk, curiousity taking over her as she was geared up to break another rule. "What channel did you work for?" 

"No, it's my turn." You remind her, playfully swatting her thigh, "Stop breaking the rules." 

"You know, I was hoping the first time you spanked would be somewhere more private, but I'll take it." 

You play along, "I mean, can it get any more private that this?" 

There's this brief change in her eyes. Almost lustful, but it is so fleeting. You've seen it before, though. It's happened of the last few hours. She looks away, but you keep your eyes on her. 

"Ask your question." 

You don't know why you don't stop yourself from asking this but, "Do you date women?" 

"Are you asking for a friend?" She asks, looking back at you. 

"Nope, just me." 

She blushes, looking away again, trying to see if this moment is real or if maybe she hit her head when the elevator jumped. She does that a lot. Every time the temperature rises between the two of you, she looks away. It's probably the smart thing to do. Trying to break the fever in the air. She is forbidden fruit, after all. You hate to shit where you eat, but you can't remember the last time you were quite this tempted. Especially in a situation like this with absolutely no prying eyes. With little to nothing to remind you that interoffice romance was a bad idea. And, everything just fueling this attraction you feel towards her. You do something bold. A gentle pair of fingers on her chin, pulling her face back to yours. 

"Answer my question." You demand, softly, even though, you are fairly certain you know the answer. 

"I do, actually," she answers, and you smile like you've just won a prize. 

"Your turn." 

"Aren't you a little young to be asking about my dating preferences?" 

You snort out a chuckle, having been with your fair share of older women. If you were being perfectly honest, the youngest woman you had ever been with -- at all -- was seven years your senior. Beyond that, though, you were grown. 

"I'm old enough to be starting my second career, and be something of a veteran at my old one," is your answer. Though, to be fair, you went to college early. Finished early, too, and you were the youngest producer on your staff but a decent margin. Always ahead of the curve you were, but it didn't take away from the truth of your statement. Or, the implication. You were old enough to know what you liked. You were old enough to be her colleague. You were old enough to be her equal. 

"Your turn." She says, because touche. 

"Are you seeing someone right now?" 

"Nothing serious," she answers, "You?" 

You shake your head, "Nothing at all." 

She smiles, then. You, in her mind, were also something of forbidden fruit. She wasn't opposed to dating a techincal coworker. Obviously, Kevin, but someone in her unit? She couldn't let herself go there. She wouldn't. She didn't want to risk the fallout. Especially not with you. You were so new here; she didn't want to taint your experience with relationship drama. Even if you were the sexiest thing to walk into this building since Derek Morgan. Still, it made her happy to know that her future fantasies didn't have to contend with another. She was mildly selfish that way. 

She was about to respond when the regular lights came on, and the emergency lights when off. Not long after, the lights came back on, the doors opened, and the two of you come face to face with six concerned faces. You stand, hasitly, helping her to her feet the moment you were on yours. 

A blonde comes forward, wrapping her arms around Penelope, holding her for a moment. When she releases her, Penelope gives brief hugs to everyone else, until she reaches a bigger guy. Real buff and pretty, like a model. He hugs her as tight and as long as the blonde had. When he releases her, she merely smiles at the man you know to be Aaron Hotchner. 

"Are you okay?" 

"Yes! I am perfectly fine," She says, "Thanks to this lovely human," she says, reaching back for you, "I found our new liaison." She tells the group. You smile and wave, introducing yourself. They all introduce themselves to you. "If it wasn't for her, I would have lost my mind in there." 

Derek makes sure to shake your hand, "Thank you for taking care of her." 

Your eyes settle on her, and you try to contain your smile. Your eyes give you away, though, as you say, "Always," before Hotch connects you with JJ. You recongized her before she even introduced herself. You'd seen her conferences online before. Her older ones. Hotch informs you that she's going to be shadowing and training you for the next couple of weeks while you find your footing, and that your first case is today. You link up with JJ as the team and Penelope separate. When you turn to glance back at her, you find her looking back at you. You smile at each other, already missing the private bubble the two of you shared. 

[hotchs-big-hands]

The Slaughterhouse

Aaron Hotchner x plus-size fem!reader part 1 5.3k words

Minors dni please

Warning(s): VERY DARK, graphic murder description, injury, gore, blood, fatphobia, extreme angst (with a happy ending), sort-of enemies to lovers, kidnapping, torture, references to SA, derogatory nsfw comments. Oh and I use the word fat because I personally reclaimed it to not rly insult me as it is merely a descriptive word. I do not use it in an insulting way even once in the series.

Please heed the warnings, this series is going to be dark asf. No smut in this series tho.

An escalating string of gruesomely murdered fat women begin to stack up with no end in sight. What started as an unfortunate routine case for the BAU team, takes a disturbing turn as you become entangled in the unsub's web, danger approaching closer and closer. It's only a matter of time before it's too late to bring the madness to an end.

Hiiiii everyone! I'm really happy to start my new series! It's a vast departure from my previous series lol but I hope you all enjoy regardless! As stated tho in the warnings it's gonna get dark so feel free to skip if you're not comfortable! But if you'd like to be tagged then please let me know! Happy reading 💖💖💖

A thin trail of red tinged water trickled down into the drain, not quite blending together more so than the red slowly spread out in the clear liquid like drops of crimson ink.

"Has Pen got a cute bandaid I could use, you think?" You asked the woman beside you as you rinsed a papercut you'd gained from the insultingly tall stack of paperwork on your desk. The woman, Emily Prentiss, shrugged slightly, tussling her silky, black hair.

"Maybe. I'll text her and ask."

"Thanks."

It didn't take long for the door to the women's restroom to burst open, almost slamming into the wall as a frantic Penelope Garcia rushed over to you, a pink first aid kit in her bejewelled hands.

"I'm here, I'm here! Nurse Garcia to the rescue!!" She cried, her blonde curls bouncing with every step. You chuckled at her as Emily stepped out of the way.

"Thank goodness, I was really starting to have second thoughts about my survival rate here."

Penelope was quick to spring into action, setting the kit down and upon opening it she retrieved an antiseptic wipe.

"Give me your hand, I'm going to clean the area." She instructed, eyes a little narrowed as she began to concentrate. You winced slightly when the antiseptic stung a little, but soon you were sporting an adorable pink bandaid with a Hello Kitty pattern on it. You held your hand out to admire it with a grin.

"Thanks so much, Pen!"

The ditzy blonde woman smiled.

"You are so welcome, my lovely."

"Come on, we need to head back to the bullpen before somebody notices we disappeared." Emily said pointedly, glancing at Penelope who returned the look. You grimaced slightly and took the empty bandaid wrapper to shove in the trashcan under your desk.

"Yeah true, we should go before I end up with another stack of paperwork." You muttered, heading towards the door and pulling it towards you. That somebody was none other than your up-tight, impersonal boss and unit chief Aaron Hotchner. Well, impersonal with you that is.

 Your time in the BAU had only been a mere year, but it was long enough to form relationships with your coworkers. Whenever possible, you attended ladies' nights with Penelope, Emily and the only other woman in the BAU; Jennifer 'JJ' Jareau, spent time with the ever charmer Derek Morgan whilst he worked on his house projects and happily listened to the young Doctor Spencer Reid as he spoke extensively about chemistry or some sort of engineering related topic. Hell, sometimes you even offered an ear to the oldest member of the team; David Rossi, discussing his passion for cooking and other such things from his life.

But no matter what you tried, there was no breaking down the walls around Aaron Hotchner and at this point you'd begun to stop trying. And it hurt like hell. Not because he was your boss, you didn't care so much about that, but because you happened to like him very much. Probably too much even. He was gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous. Even now you couldn't stop yourself from letting your eyes wander over to glance at him, to take in his tall stature and handsomely seasoned features. And you knew he had a kind and loving side to him as well from the interactions you'd witnessed between him and your coworkers. But the same couldn't be said for you. He never offered that olive branch to you, never spoke to you besides work related discussion when on cases. Hell, you basically knew nothing of his son besides the snippets the others had told you of the elusive boy. Not from Agent Hotchner, but from Emily, Derek, Penny...

There was no way of saying it didn't sting, because it did very much so. And it had been this way right from when you walked through the door per section chief Erin Strauss' recommendation. Your interview was tense between yourself, Hotchner and Rossi with the two of them seemingly being in disagreement about you. Rossi, on one hand, was adamant about your capabilities and of what you would bring to the team, whereas your now boss was reluctant. Nitpicky. Wanting to find something to use to keep you from the position in the team. And when he realised you were officially in the team on your first day, walking into the bullpen with your slightly busted brown box of desk essentials and trinkets, was when the walls were raised to impenetrable heights.

Sighing quietly, you returned to the bullpen, fingers of your uninjured hand fiddling with the balled up wrapper. Your eyes flicked to the familiar windowed office above the main desk area. The blinds were open. He no doubt knew yourself and Emily had disappeared for a short while. You scowled a little to yourself. What did it matter? As long as you got your work completed all the same then it didn't matter if you were at your desk the whole day or not. And it didn't matter what he thought, or if he even did take notice of your absence or if he knew why you were gone. Or if he worried over you. It didn't matter, you told yourself.

"Hey sweet thing, what's that frown for, huh?" You blinked as you were brought to the present by the voice of your friend Derek Morgan. You turned in your chair to face him with a sheepish grin.

"Oh, I'm just annoyed I got a papercut. Like are you kidding me?" You said humourously and the dark skinned man laughed, his teeth gleaming under the artificial office lights.

"Aww I'm sorry, did you accidentally touch these abs or something?" His eyes were shining mischievously now and you rolled your own with a scoff.

"Yeah yeah, you wish. The culprit was this pile of paperwork though."

In response, Derek formed a heart shape with his hands, only to break it when he moved his hands away from one another, pouting sadly as he slumped back in his chair. You giggled quietly and rolled your eyes before you returned your attention to the casefiles on your desk. But it wasn't long before you spotted the colourfully dressed Penny again as she rushed towards your unit chief's office, meaning there was a case about to unfold. You eyed your coworkers, who returned the glance, then automatically made a move to close the casefile you had open on your desk and added it to the paper tower. You rose from your seat just as the office door swung open again and Penny reappeared with Hotch behind her. As she made her way to the conference room the tall man leaned over the walkway in the direction of your colleagues and yourself.

"We have a case. Be in the conference room in 2 minutes." He said curtly, eyes flicking between each face. They lingered on you for a moment, brows pulled together in a deep frown, then moved away as he followed the blonde woman. Over time you'd come to understand that look; this case was bad. Very bad.

JJ was already in the conference room when you trailed in behind Reid, Rossi following behind you and closing the door as the last person in the room. You took a seat near the far side of the round table from the doorway, Emily moving to sit on your left. Your eyes drifted around the room, brows furrowing very slightly when you couldn't find the unit chief in his usual position at the table. The chair beside you made a sound as it was pulled out and to your horror you realised none other than Derek Morgan had taken Hotch's seat, which meant...

You heard Aaron Hotchner clear his throat to your right as he shifted to get comfortable in the chair, the leather squeaking beneath his weight. You didn't dare look his way, instead turning your head to Emily with a slightly skittish look in your eyes. To your horror she was already looking at you, a devilish smirk battling its way on her face.

"You okay there, (L/n)?" She asked sweetly. You scoffed.

"Always am."

You could have sworn you heard the man beside you draw in a sharp breath.

"Let's get started." He said in his smooth, deep voice.

JJ had laid out the casefiles for everyone to look at, but as you reached forward to grab your copy a tanned, hairy hand gently grasped your wrist. You flinched, body turning to the culprit as none other than your boss. He stared back, brows furrowed deeply and his emotions guarded.

"Careful."

You knew all eyes were on the two of you, the burn of the stares was almost unbearable, like fire ants crawling all over you. And then Penelope cleared her throat, ending the moment. Hotch retracted his hand from your wrist carefully and you turned your attention to the two blonde women about to present the case.

It became very apparent almost immediately why your boss was hesitant for you to open your casefile.

You had seen all manner of depravity in this field of work. And while you didn't exactly enjoy seeing the bodies of victims, even the most gruesome crimes didn't really affect you as much as they used to. But what you didn't expect was seeing the horribly mutilated corpses of women, women who had a common similarity with you. Every single one was fat like you. Well, as best as you could tell through the extent of the mutilations to the bodies. With the side-by-side comparison of the photos of the victims as they were alive and happy, their cheerful smiles besides the butchered bodies was... difficult. Hell, you could effortlessly imagine a photo of yourself alongside theirs with how similar their bodies were to yours.

The voices of your colleagues around you seemed distant as your eyes read the current details of the case. Over the course of 4 months, seven women of varied ethnicities, between the ages of 19 and 25, had all been found dumped naked in a variety of locations in a large town in Texas. Their bodies were butchered and there was evidence of violent sexual assault. A chilling detail was each victim had had their blood drained entirely. You couldn't stop your eyes from drifting back to the photos of their faces.

"(L/n)?"

You blinked, looking up to see who had spoken. All eyes were on you, causing you to wince slightly.

"Yeah?"

Beside you, Emily placed her hand on your arm.

"You alright?" She asked quietly. You were quiet for a moment.

"Oh, yeah I'm... fine. I was just reading the details." You managed to murmur.

"Any thoughts so far?" Rossi cut in, staring at you intently.

"Mhm, this killer holds a lot of resentment towards fat women from the way they've sliced and butchered their bodies. The blood draining is a bit unusual, however I don't think it's for ritualistic purposes."

"What do you suspect it to be about?" JJ spoke. You narrowed your eyes a little as you thought about it.

"I'm... not sure. Maybe there isn't a purpose other than to get rid of the mess."

Beside you, the leather of the chair Hotch sat on creaked under his movement when he closed his copy of the casefile and pushed away from the table.

"We'll continue to discuss theories on the plane. For now, get yourselves ready to go. Wheels up in thirty." He concluded and stood up from his seat, everyone else following along. You closed your file and made a move to follow behind Emily, when the familiar touch of Hotch's hand grasped your wrist gently again. "(L/n), a word."

Helplessly, you watched everyone file out of the room and you sighed gently. His hand dropped away and as you glanced down at your feet you could feel his scrutinizing stare.

"I need you to remain by my side for this case." He said bluntly.

"Huh?"

You frowned at him. This certainly wasn't what you thought he was going to say. You watched as his brow creased.

"I want to keep an eye on you."

What? You blinked at him.

"Why's that, sir? I don't quite follow."

"I don't want to be insensitive but you have seen the victims the unsub targeted. I just want to make sure you're safe." Hotch explained in as gentle of a way he had ever spoken to you. Oh... You swallowed thickly and nodded once.

"I see. Uh, well I appreciate it, sir. I should be okay though, I have you all around me after all."

It was your boss' turn to frown now, evidently displeased with your response. But he didn't push it, picking his casefile off the table and fixing his watch around his wrist.

"If you insist. But I don't approve of this though."

You nodded and cleared your throat, following him as he stalked out of the conference room. As he made a right turn towards his office, you continued forward until you were with the others again. JJ was the first to break the air of curiosity.

"What did Hotch want?" She asked you as she checked she had everything she needed in her go bag. You sighed and crossed over to your desk.

"Said he wants me to stay by his side, given the nature of what we're dealing with."

"And are you doing that?" Derek asked, eyeing you pointedly. You shook your head.

"I don't really want to have to hang back from working on this case as much as I intend on doing so."

Emily lightly nudged you when she approached your desk, her bag slung over one shoulder.

"Maybe he has a point though." She offered but you scrunched your nose up.

"I also don't really feel like spending the whole time with someone who acts like I'm as worthy of their time as a plank of rotting wood would be." You muttered to yourself as you shoved the casefile in your bag, missing the uncomfortable shared glances of your team mates when the subject of your conversation approached the group.

You felt Emily nudge you again and you straightened up, sealing your bag shut.

"Alright, alright I'm ready to go n..ow..." she wasn't looking at you, you realised, and your body tensed when you heard him speak.

"Let's head out." Agent Hotchner said roughly and turned to leave, face sour. Damn, you strongly hoped he hadn't heard you just now but judging from his expression you knew he must have done. Sighing softly, you picked your bag up and swung it over your shoulder. And followed behind the others to head to the airport. It was never a good idea to start a case off with conflict.

Work began immediately when the team met up with the Police department in Memphis, with everyone splitting up to take care of different tasks. Much to your relief, Hotch had teamed you up with Derek to visit the bar the latest victim had been last seen before her disappearance and murder. Despite the time in the day it was rowdy inside, a significant hum of conversation ever present as the two of you navigated around to interview staff and patrons. So far, there had been no luck though with finding any information on whoever was responsible for the crimes.

As your eyes drifted around the room they settled on a young woman who had just entered the bar. She stood around five feet six inches tall with dyed red curls which ended around her shoulders and her figure was similar to your own, albeit slightly bigger. Someone the unsub would target, you thought to yourself bitterly. Her eyes found you and she nervously approached you, gaze darting around. Nudging Derek subtly, you met the girl halfway across the bar. She was shaking.

"Hey, I'm agent (Y/n) (L/n) and this is agent Derek Morgan of the FBI. Are you alright?" You asked her gently and she cleared her throat.

"You're... you're investigating the murders, aren't you?" Her voice was quiet. You nodded and brought your hands up to take hold of her arms.

"I understand it's very frightening right now, but we're here to do whatever we can to find this person."

Derek eyed the young woman, gaze sincere but analysing.

"Do you have anyone of note who could be a person of interest?" He questioned her. Her eyes flitted to him.

"I... I'm not sure. There's a lot of people who treat us badly," She shifted around, folding her arms close to her body. "J-just five months ago there was a girl who got- um, assaulted because she rejected someone. She was like us, a bigger woman."

Derek's frown deepened.

"Is there records of the assault?"

She shook her head.

"Only of her initial report and visit to the hospital. She was um, too scared to say who it was." She scrunched her eyes shut for a second and shuddered. "H-her name was Amelia Dougherty."

A coldness sunk deep within your abdomen and you fought off the twitch of your lower lip. That was the first victim found dead four months ago. You offered a gentle squeeze of her arms.

"What's your name, lovey?" You said sweetly, feeling the young woman relax under your touch slightly.

"Carla. Carla Reynolds, ma'am."

Your thumbs soothingly brushed against her arms, hopeful she took it as encouragement.

"Well, Carla. I want to thank you for talking to us today. Right now though I need you to head home, protect yourself. Try your best not to go out and about alone if you can help it, yeah?" You instructed her and she nodded.

"Okay..."

With one last squeeze, you let go of her and smiled faintly. Beside you, Derek slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small rectangle of card.

"If you think of anything or see anything suspicious, call my number. Thank you for your time, Miss Reynolds." He said politely, but not unkindly and you both watched as she quickly left the bar. You exhaled softly and turned to the man beside you.

"We certainly know the possible trigger that started this whole murder spree." You murmured. The man beside you nodded and pulled his phone from his pocket with the intention to make a call.

"We'll head back to the station with what we know. I'm gonna ask Garcia for any files on assault reports within the last few months before the murders." He said as he pressed his phone to his ear.

"Sure, I'll just have one last sweep around."

As the man turned to make a call, you let your eyes drift around the room again to analyse everyone. None seemed to stand out, nor were there any other larger women around at this point. Distantly, you could hear Derek chatting lightly to Penny on the other end of the line but you paid little mind to it. But as you turned around to make your way outside a flurry of people entered the bar and, as a consequence, someone bumped into you and caused you to stumble.

"Hey! Watch it, man!" You heard your companion snap, but whoever it was had long since disappeared into the crowd. You sighed and fixed your clothing.

"It's fine, Der. We have more important things to focus on right now anyway." 

You could tell from the expression on Derek's face that he was reluctant to let this drop, but he didn't challenge you. And at this point he had finished the call anyway, so without any further delay the two of you headed outside to drive back to the station.

There were no patterns between any of the assault victims from before the murders. All were a much wider range of women, a wider age range, varying body types and there was a multitude of perpetrators committing these assaults as opposed to one, who was suspected to be acting alone committing the murders. And this didn't even include male victims either. The first day of the case was chalking up to being a frustrating dead-end.

Standing in front of the whiteboard that was covered in tacked on pictures and scrawled out notes, you rubbed a hand over your face as you felt your brain turn into cotton in your skull. It was then you felt a presence beside you, causing you to stiffen slightly.

"Got anything?" You heard the soft, deep rumble of Hotch's voice. You exhaled. As you glanced to your side you realised how close to one another you were and the scent of his cologne hit your senses. It made your head feel a bit fuzzy.

"Other than what we already have, no. Maybe just theories on why the unsub picked out these women in particular." You murmured.

"Let's talk about them."

You turned to him with a slight nod, eyes reluctant to leave the board.

"Well, the photographs; the body language suggests a lot of discomfort. The women don't really like being the centre of attention. They're insecure." You began, motioning to the pictures of the victims from when they were still alive. "The unsub will have taken advantage of this, approaching the women in clubs and bars to flirt with them."

Hotch hummed, his focus entirely on you.

"It would seem likely, yes."

"But why go with the guy if they were so insecure?" A different voice chimed into the conversation, causing the two of you to turn. Behind you, Spencer stared with a furrowed brow and you sighed gently.

"If you're in a position where you've never had anyone show interest in you, or at least never seem genuine about it, it really messes with your self esteem. So having someone spend time with you flirting with you will inevitably cause you to drop your defense a bit. Because, well, you've never experienced this before." You turned to the board again and grabbed one of the markers to write some notes down. "With this I can only imagine the unsub is definitely above average in attractiveness but not so much to the point where the victims wouldn't trust their supposed interest."

"Most likely in the late twenties to early thirties. But we'll continue the profile with fresh eyes in the morning." Hotch said and he motioned to address the others. "We should stop for the night and check in to the hotel. We'll be up early in the morning."

There was a mutual sound of agreement from your colleagues but before you could say anything more to your unit chief, he was walking away briskly and pulling his phone out of his pocket to seemingly make a call. He never seemed to linger around you more than what was required of him. You puffed out a breath and capped the pen in your hand again before setting it down. To your left, you were aware of Emily approaching you.

"Sooo..." She began and you huffed.

"Oh, don't start."

"I didn't say anything!"

With a scowl you turned to her, noting the grin she was trying desperately to fend off. You folded your arms.

"Don't be sly with me, dumbass." You spat and she chuckled.

"You know I don't mean any ill-will. Just wondering how you're getting on."

You scoffed.

"Yeah, yeah sure you are."

"Well, I'm sure it's not easy working beside the man you're definitely not interested in!"

A tired grumble left you as you crossed the room to grab your casefile.

“Girl, we are literally trying to solve a serial murder case right now. I got no time to be thinking about anything but this.”

Emily chuckled and leaned her weight onto her hand braced on the table in the centre of the room.

“I know you’re struggling hard not to think about him though.”

You jabbed her with your elbow and scowled at her.

“That’s enough out of you. Now come on, we’re done for the day.” You said and tucked the manila folder under your arm, not missing the little chuckle from the raven haired woman. Once everyone was ready to depart, you found yourself in the same car as the girls and Reid, sitting in the back as you scrolled through your phone. There was a group chat you all used, originally created for strictly case related situations, but with Garcia around there was no way it was going to remain professional for long. And so now it was a mix of light-hearted conversation and sharing as well as more serious messages. The aforementioned had sent a series of messages in response to knowing you were all retiring for the night and you idly sent your own, typically the one to try and send things that would bring a smile to everyone’s faces. The lights from distant buildings and streetlamps would occasionally light up the interior of the car, illuminating your grip on your phone and the face of Reid sitting beside you in the back seat.

Before long, you had reached your destination following behind the car Derek, Rossi and Hotch were in. After parking up, you all grabbed your bags and trailed in behind the two eldest members of the team as they strode towards the reception desk. After a few minutes, the remainder of you decided to take up the couches in the foyer, realising Hotch and Rossi were taking longer than you thought to sort out the rooms. This was not a good sign, only further proven when they turned to the group, mild agitation on their faces. You sighed.

“Oh no, they don’t look too happy, do they?” You mumbled to Derek, leaning towards him. He chuckled.

“No, they do not. I can only imagine what that means.”

And soon enough the situation was brought to light.

“There was a mishap with the booking and there’s no longer enough rooms for one each,” Hotch said flatly, his shoulders slumped and his jaw clenched. “We’ll have to double up.”

Shit. Your eyes flicked to Emily immediately and your heart jolted upon realising she was staring at you with a widening grin. Oh no.

She pushed up off the couch and grabbed her bag, throwing the strap over her shoulder.

“Let’s go, JJ.” She declared and the blonde woman’s head shot up, gaze switching between the two of you. And much to your dismay, she too stood up and followed Emily to grab their room keys.

“Sure.”

Your eyes drifted towards Derek and Reid, feeling slightly hopeful knowing Derek didn’t often enjoy sharing with the young doctor. It startled you when he winked at you, then dragged the wild-haired man to stand up with him.

“C’mon, pretty boy. It’s you and me now.”

Reid seemingly had nothing to say, his brow crooked as slight confusion settled in. Now all that remained was the last two eldest members. Slowly, you turned to look at the eldest.

“...Rossi?”

“Actually, you’ll be sharing with me.” the man beside him spoke, drawing your attention. Hotch eyed you carefully, his brows pulled together slightly. You swallowed.

“I could always take the single room..?” you offered weakly.

“No, I would feel more at ease if you were sharing.”

Rossi raised his brows as he sniffed loudly, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards.

“And I need my peace and quiet, so I will take the single.” he said and before you could protest the seasoned agent spun on his heel and retreated towards the elevators.

You sighed gently, slowly rising to your feet and awkwardly approaching Hotch.

“Okay… I guess that leaves us then.”

“Yes. If you don’t mind.” he said, brows pulled together. You held your tongue.

“I don’t.”

With a slight nod, he turned away to find the elevators and you quickly followed, pattering after him with your go-bag held at your side. Hotch reached the elevators quickly, holding the doors open for you then pressing the number for your floor. The ride up was silent, painfully so and despite being less than a minute long it felt as though the seconds had been dragged out to an hour long. Tiredly, you dumped your bag in front of you, eyes wandering around the steel walls around you the longer the ride took. Should you speak? You had no idea, unsure what to even say to the man. As though feeling the same discomfort, Hotch cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to another in the empty space the both of you were in. The chime of the elevator stopping to open its doors startled you, blinking a few times at the sound.

As you turned your attention to your bag, Hotch’s hand appeared in view and briskly grabbed the handles of your bag and picked it up. You gasped, looking up at him and realising he was watching you. You drew in a sharp breath.

“Um, thanks.”

“Mhm.”

Once again, he held the elevator door open with his elbow, his hands full with your bag and his. You didn’t comment on it, instead smiling sheepishly and uttering another ‘thank you’ as you passed him. He led the way again, stalking down the carpeted corridor until he stopped in front of a random door. He placed the bags down and made a move to unlock the door, the keys jangling being the only noise in that moment. You both heard the click of the lock coming loose and, after picking the bags up again, Hotch pushed the door open to step inside. But as you followed, you bumped into his solid form and earned a quiet grunt from him, not expecting him to have stopped so suddenly.

“What’s wrong?” you wondered aloud, inching around him to see the problem- oh. Hm.

One king-sized bed sat in the centre of the room against the left wall, not the two beds you were both expecting. Fuck.

“I’ll return to the front desk and see if there’s anything they can do to change this.” Hotch said and you turned to look back at him.

“You know there isn’t anything available, though. Let’s just, um, head in and sort out in the morning.”

The longer you stared at the seeming displeasure on his face, the worse you began to feel about sharing with him. Great, he probably was regretting this now.

“Are you certain?”

It made you frown.

“I’m tired, sir. I just want to have a shower and get some rest.” you muttered. He let out a heavy sigh, deepening the uncomfortable feeling in your lower abdomen, but relented by following you inside the room and closing the door when he had deposited the bags onto the bed.

“You can take the first shower.” he offered quietly and your face twitched into a miniature smile.

“Thanks. Won’t be long. You can choose which side to sleep on.”

Unpacking your toiletries and your (regretful choice) of pyjamas, you tiptoed towards the shower room after kicking your shoes off. Hotch had already made claim of the table in the room, spreading out his work across the surface. You closed the door behind you quickly when he shrugged his suit jacket off and loosened his tie, electing to restrict yourself from seeing him in anything less than his standard clothing for your own wellbeing.

You began to undress, untucking your shirt from your trousers, when you finally noticed something truly off.

Your FBI ID was gone. With one brow quirked, you searched through your pockets and in your toiletry bag, expecting to have maybe misplaced it in a sleepy state. But no… You swallowed thickly and opened the shower room door again. Automatically, Hotch’s head moved to your direction from where he was seated on the side of the bed nearest the hotel room door and he tilted his head.

“What is it?”

You cleared your throat.

“U-uhm… My ID; it’s gone.”

Wooooooo spooooky idk idk I HOPE PPL ENJOYED THIS FIRST PART it's not gonna be jolly from here on out until the end 🥴 if you'd like to be tagged let me know!

Taglist:

@southernraven, @deludedfruitcake , @tgskitten , @zaddyhotch , @cm-slvts-31 , @dins-cyarika @midnghtprentiss

[lemonadeinfuser]

Holiday House

Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

In short: Hotch needs help, and you need a job. Part 1 of ?? we shall see how far this goes :) Warnings for mentions of alcohol (very infrequent) possible mentions of smut/cut to black scenes in the future! ;) __ Is in place of Y/N!!

“And the town said, ‘How did a middle class divorcee do it?’”

Aaron Hotchner was never one to admit to needing help, let alone one to ask for it. But as he sat in the dim light of the kitchen, a case file in one hand, a glass of whiskey in the other, a million thoughts ran through his head. His thumb rubs his temple gingerly, averting his gaze from the graphic crime scene polaroids, over to his son’s bedroom. Just a few hours earlier, he had called off abruptly to pick up Jack prematurely from school, after he had climbed to the very top of the jungle gym in an attempt to do something Garcia called “parkour”.

He survived with only a few scrapes and bruises, but it was clearly a drastic cry for attention.The door was open ajar, illuminated only by the dinosaur night light, casting a soft blue glow over the sleeping boy. When Haley had died, he had quickly realized that being a full-time father would not prove easy with his job. As time went on, it only got more difficult for him to divide his attention- and Jack’s recent episode at school was a cruel wake up call. One thing was evident- he needed someone to attend fully to him, and Hotch needed the ability to commit fully to his team, and to the BAU.

So, first thing in the morning, Penelope was faced with a curt knock on her office door. Spinning around in her chair, she rises and opens the door, Starbucks in hand. “Fancy seeing you here, hands- Oh, hello, sir, m-my apologies. I thought you were Derek.” She cleared her throat, but arched an eyebrow as she detected a faint twinkle in Hotch’s eyes. “Garcia.” “What do you need sir? Stats? Access to a secure database?” She spins around quickly, already typing the nearest case details into her supercomputer. “Well, actually, it’s more of a personal question. Do you happen to know any, uh, childcare workers?” “Like a nanny, sir?” He cringed at the cutesy word, but nodded nonetheless.

“Yes, I suppose.” Garcia pushed her glasses up her nose slightly, observing the man in front of her. Although she wasn’t technically a profiler, she knew Hotch well enough to find things out of place, as they were now. “Actually, yes, sir, I know just the person.” A slight plot began to form in her head, as she sent a number through her printer and into Hotch’s hands. “That’s my friend, __. She’s perfect, lots of experience, Jack would love her. Actually, sir, you would too..” Hotch fumbles for a second, before raising an eyebrow in her direction. “That’s quite enough, Penelope. This is strictly for Jack’s benefit. I appreciate this, however.” He nods curtly, backing out and bumping straight into a coffee-bearing Morgan. “Trying to steal my girlfriend, boss-man? Not cool.” Derek chuckles, pushing past him politely and planting a kiss on Penelope’s cheek. “Damn, I beat you to it!” He gestures to the coffee already in her hand. “I can always use more,” Penelope giggles.

Hotch shuts the door quickly, glancing down at the number in his hands. He walks quickly back to his office, passing right by Spencer and Rossi arguing about something or another. “With all due respect, sir, Logan Paul has absolutely nothing against Mike Tyson-” “He’s a billion years old!” Shaking his head slightly at his team’s banter, Aaron sinks into his chair, punching the number into the landline on his desk. Everyone else may use cellphones now, but Aaron still preferred the old fashioned way, when it came to business.

You had just finished an extremely degrading night shift at the diner, picking up your phone with a raised brow as you exited the back room. “Hello?” “Hello, this is SSA Aaron Hotchner. Is this __?” Your heart rate picked up- maybe from the fact that an FBI agent was calling you, maybe because his voice was low and steady and weirdly attractive. “O-oh, um, hello sir do you- need something?” Hotch takes notice of the light and airy pitched voice on the other side of the line, and something about it makes his heart skip a beat. He ignores it, proceeding, “I was wondering if you were prepared to interview for an in-home, uh, nanny job? For lack of a better word. Penelope Garcia gave me your number, and I trust her judgment for better or worse.” A smile spread across your face. “Absolutely, sir. When would be a good time to meet, Mr Hotchner?”

It’s strange. Aaron gets called sir about a hundred times a day, but something about your innocent voice sends a shiver down his spine that he can’t explain, but does his best to ignore. “Why don’t you stop by my house at around 6 tonight? We can talk, you can meet Jack, and we can go from there.” “That works for me, sir.” You smoothen out your skirt, a sudden blush chasing your cheeks as you think about meeting this mystery man, one you’d only heard anecdotes about from your best friend and her boyfriend. “Perfect. I’ll have Garcia send over my address.” The line clicks before you get the chance to respond, leaving you slightly flustered, with your hands wrapped around your cellphone a little more tightly than you thought, almost as if you were holding onto the idea of him. The poor man, left alone with his son, with a job like that.. You shake your head, quickly grabbing your purse, clattering your nametag down on the counter with a defiant “I quit.” to your manager as you happily left that damn place for the last time.

Back at the office, Aaron watches his team out in the bullpen, Morgan and Garcia enveloped in something on his desk while Spencer spins a rubix cube towards Emily, with a “good luck” sort of look. He’s not sure what the emotion he’s feeling is, but whatever it is, he brushes it off and grabs the case file dropped off earlier, emerging into the open office, with the same professional air as always- if a little less uptight than usual.

“Who knows, if she never showed up, what could have been?”

A/N: AHHH this was so so much fun to write!! I hope my writing style and the way I write Hotch is okay, I’m still new to the fandom and show but I did my very best! Suggestions are always welcome! Please like, comment, reblog and send me requests!

-e.a <33

[b00inazkaban]

MASTERLIST #2

Navigation!

Let me know if there are any characters you’d like added and I’ll look into it! :)

Smut = **

What I will NOT write for under any circumstance: R@pe, incest, anything to do with pee or poo, hardcore bdsm or anything like that type of smut, kidnapping reader for love, anything stalker, abuse unless it’s for angst but I won’t go into detail about the abuse (though I will do like slapping/spanking for smut it cannot have malicious meaning behind it, and there is always consent for that)

Also let me put this by itself, pregnancy is also way off the table. It’s 6 feet underground. I understand it’s part of life and it’s beautiful , and that’s for people to decide but personally I find just the concept of that horrifying and gross. I do breeding kink yes, but no description of pregnancy. (No hate to pregnant people I just can’t stand the concept of pregnancy in any form.)

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☆ Tony Stark

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☆Aaron Hotchner

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Queen charlotte x reader x King George

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Poly!TMNT x Fem!Reader; April 4-in-1; turtles are manspreading and you want payback 😚

Poly!TMNT x Fem!Reader; Casey tries to flirt with reader but she puts down the idea and the turtles are proud

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☆ Pete Mitchell "Maverick"

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☆ Thorin

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☆ Katniss Everdeen

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☆ Lucifer Morningstar

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☆ Hiccup Haddock

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☆ Tuffnut

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Across The SpiderVerse:

☆ Miles Morales

☆ Miguel O'Hara

Spider thoughts!

☆ Peter B. Parker

Spider thoughts!

☆ Hobie Brown

☆ Gwen Stacy

☆ Spider-Noir

Spider thoughts!

Poly Requests:

Descendants:

☆ Mal

☆ Evie

☆ Carlos

☆ Jay

☆ Gil

☆ Harry

☆ Uma

Poly Requests:

MATCHUPS/MOODBOARDS:

☆ @thoughtfulcreatornight x Raphael matchup

☆ Anonymous x Remus Lupin matchup

꧁〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎꧂

I’ve redone my masterlist because I was vey unhappy with my first one, and I wanted to add pictures to go with it! I’ll also be adding all my new work onto here and my old work will be on the first masterlist! Love y’all! 💗

[greg-montgomery]

Ivy - Part 6

gif by: @hotch-girl <3

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader (Sean Hotchner x Fem!Reader)

Series summary: Your relationship with your boyfriend, Sean, is going great. Well, that is until you meet his older brother, Aaron.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Warnings: this chapter is nsfw - 18+

Minors DNI

Chapter summary: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) lmfaooo

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Relief was such a wonderful feeling.

You were smiling and breathing again; because he was.

“Wild horses, sir. Just...wild horses,” you heard Garcia say. You were so grateful for her. Seeing her hugging him and giving him a kiss on the forehead made your heart swell. Aaron deserved to be loved like this.

She turned around and her smile grew even bigger when she noticed you standing on the door. Your hand was soon in hers. “I’ll call everyone. Sean too,” she said. You had sent Sean home, knowing he was running on a few hours of sleep. “You go to him,” she added.

Penelope winked at you and you wondered if she knew. You didn’t mind.

“Two minutes. I left for two minutes,” you said, walking towards his bed.

“Sorry, I needed some peace and quiet waking up,” he replied.

“I knew you did it on purpose.”

His laugh was weak, but genuine.

You sat on the chair next to him, but pulled it closer so it was almost attached to his bed.     

Aaron lifted his hand to touch your cheek with his fingertips. “What’s that?” he said softly. “Have you been crying?”           

You placed your hand over his and kissed his palm. “Of course I have. I didn’t know if you’d be okay.”

“As if I’d ever leave you,” he whispered.

“It was so scary. I’ve never had anyone I lo-” you held yourself back and stumbled over your words. “Anyone close to me,” you corrected yourself, “In a hospital before.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that, sweetheart,” he said.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

Aaron let out a heavy sigh and spoke again. “Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Could you do me a favor?”

“Anything in the world,” you smiled.

“Jack is coming. I hate that he has to see me like this again. Can you please stay? You’re a comforting presence to him and I think it would be good for him to see you here too.”

“Aaron, of course.” Of course.

--

You stood next to Jessica, watching the way Jack clung tightly to his dad. Their bond was special, and you supposed that Haley’s passing had only made it stronger.

When they broke their hug, Jack made himself comfortable next to Aaron, his short legs hanging off the side of the hospital bed.

“Aunt Jess,” he said and pointed at you. “This is Y/N. She’s my other aunt!” he added with pride.

“Oh, the famous Y/N. He talks about you a lot,” Jessica said and offered you a kind smile.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” you said, shaking her hand. “I wish it was under different circumstances.”

Leaving Aaron alone with Jessica to give them some privacy, you ended up with Jack on your lap. Your hand was playing with his blond hair as you were chatting with him.

He had many questions and you couldn’t blame him.

“Is daddy in pain?”

“Not anymore,” you said. “The doctors made him okay.”

“Then why is he still in the hospital?”

“It’s because the doctors have to make sure he stays okay.”

“But is he coming home soon?”

“Of course.” You left a sweet kiss on the top of his head to comfort him.

“Will you come with us?”

“I’m sorry, my angel, I can’t. I have to go home to uncle Sean.”

Jack pouted and rested his head on your chest. “I wish you were daddy’s girlfriend instead.”

--

Sean insisted on picking you up from the hospital himself.

You found him outside, leaning on his car and bringing a cigarette between his lips.

He was wearing a black leather jacket. And he looked good. He looked like a bad boy out of a movie.

It reminded you of your first date. That was exactly how he had been waiting for you outside of your house that night. Back then your heart was beating like crazy.

This time, your heart was just sad.

He took a drag of his cigarette as you approached him. “How is he?”

“He’s gonna be okay,” you said.

“Are you okay?” You couldn’t tell whether his tone was caring or passive aggressive. “Now that you saw him awake?” he added.

You weren’t sure what to reply.

“You were pretty upset.”

“I hate hospitals,” you simply said. It wasn’t convincing. He pretended that it was anyway.

--

You wanted nothing more than to be there for Aaron when he returned home; to take care of him, cook for him, hold him…

But after that short conversation with Sean, you felt like you were walking on eggshells around him. Especially when it came to his brother. You couldn’t risk sneaking out. Not that soon.

So you went back to the thing you and Aaron knew how to do best: phone calls.

The problem was they weren’t enough. They never were.

And now some time had passed and Aaron had already returned to work and you still hadn’t seen him.

“I was just now thinking of you,” you said, answering your phone.

“Hey,” Aaron said. Just one word from his mouth was enough for you to decide what kind of mood he was in.

“Tough case?” you asked.

“Yeah. Just needed to hear your voice.”

“I wish I was there to hold you,” you whispered. You didn’t hide your thoughts from him anymore.

“Come to me then,” he simply said.

“Aaron, don’t say things like that to me because I’ll do it,” you warned him.

“I want you to.”

There was a moment of silence and you had both made up your minds.

You hopped in the shower before wearing your prettiest underwear. Something inside you was telling you that you were gonna be doing more than just hold him.

--

Aaron opened the door and a second later you were in his arms, his lips pressed against yours.

“We’re alone,” he murmured against your mouth.

“Good,” you said and let him lift you up in his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He was strong again.

“I’m not hurting you, am I?” you asked him as he led you to his bedroom. It was more teasing than concern. You knew he was okay, he reassured you about it every single day.

“Don’t worry,” he said and softly laid you down on his bed. He crawled on top of you and looked into your eyes with a smirk. “I’m healed. And I can finally fuck my baby the way she deserves.”

His lips were finally on yours again and you pulled him close to your body using both your hands and legs.

“Need you…” you whined.

“I’ll give you everything,” he said. “Everything.”

You helped him out of his clothes and he did the same until you were both in your underwear.

He kneeled between your legs, looking at you, staring and admiring. You had never felt prettier than you felt that moment under his gaze.

“I bought them for you,” you said, running your hands over your chest and down to your panties.

He smiled.

“He’s never seen them.” You didn’t need to say his name for him to understand you were referring to Sean.

He leaned in and kissed your lips. “Good girl,” he said and your tummy felt funny.

Aaron started pressing kisses against your cheek and then your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, your stomach…until his face was between your legs.

“Are you wet?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He mouthed you over the fabric of your lingerie. “You were just as desperate the first time I touched you,” he said. He lifted his gaze to look at you, removing his mouth from you for a moment.

You held back a whine at the loss of contact, as if it would cover up the desperation he had just mentioned.

“Can I take them off, baby?” he asked sweetly.

You nodded your head and he grabbed the sides of your panties, pulling them down.

Aaron was taking his sweet time and the anticipation was killing you.

“Aaron…” you said with urgency.

He wrapped an arm around your thigh and brought it over his shoulder. “A bit impatient, aren’t we?”

He left a few kisses on the inside of your thigh. You thought that he was trying to drive you crazy – and even though he was doing just that– you soon realized that he was simply trying to savor every moment of your first time.

The feeling of his tongue on you made you arch your back and shut your eyes. Your hands went immediately to his hair, tugging at it at every wave of pleasure that went through your body.

Aaron’s hands were gripping your thighs, and you would be worried about your skin bruising if you weren’t feeling so damn good.

You opened your eyes to look at him. Seeing his black hair between your legs reminded you of your first fantasy about him.

“Fuck…” you moaned at the feeling of him sucking on your clit. “Mm Aaron…”

His hands went to your bra, cupping your tits; your nipples hardening under his touch.

“Take it off,” he ordered and you did without wasting a second. His hands grabbed them again.

Aaron moaned with you - his voice muffled since his mouth was occupied – and that was exactly what you needed to finally let go and cum against his tongue.

He gave a last long lick to your pussy that ended at the beginning of your stomach and then he kissed his way up to your neck. “You’re perfect.”

You cupped his face and made him look at you. “I want you finally inside me.”

His lips were shiny and it was all because of you. You couldn’t resist tracing his lips and then slipping your thumb into his mouth. Aaron sucked on it and then took it out of his mouth, kissing the pad of your finger.

“I want you so bad,” you admitted. “I’ve never wanted anyone like that before.”

“Me neither.”

Soon he was out of his boxers and with a condom in his hands that he had just grabbed from his nightstand.

You stared at him as he put it on. You wanted to see him, observe him, memorize him. You could finally see all of him. That was all you ever wanted, to see and know all of him; know the man that was so closed off and serious, in ways everyone else didn’t. You weren’t the first woman to see him naked but maybe…maybe, you hoped, it was different with you.

He towered over you and lowered himself to kiss you. You wrapped your hands around his neck, deepening the kiss. You could feel his cock pressing on you and it made you even more impatient so you used the heels of your feet to push him closer to you.

“Now, Aaron,” you said.

He pressed a soft kiss against your forehead and suddenly he was inside you.

You were moving slowly at first, his hand was wrapped around your neck but not with the intention of chocking you but more to keep your face in place so he could keep staring into your eyes.

You never knew you could love eye contact that much.

Aaron then grabbed your hands and pulled them over your head so he could intertwine your fingers. You kept looking at him even though he wasn’t forcing you to anymore. Pleasure looked good on him.

“Go faster. Please,” you said breathless and you didn’t need to ask twice.

“Fuck, it’s so good, baby,” he sighed. “It’s so good, it’s perfect.”

He wasn’t going to last long, it was obvious, but you didn’t mind. You were close too.

“I wish I didn’t have to wear a condom,” he said, his hands now on your hips, pushing you harshly against him. “I wish I could fill your pretty pussy with my cum and make you mine.”

“I’m already yours,” you moaned. “Yours.”

You wrapped your arms around him as he came, wanting to feel as close to him as possible. Your own orgasm followed right after his.

He collapsed next to you and you both turned your heads to the side so you could look at each other.

“Shit,” you said with a weak breath and the two of you started laughing.

He kissed the tip of your nose and threw the condom away as you made your way to the bathroom.

When you came back he was waiting for you with a glass of cold water.

“My prince,” you joked, taking it from his hands and bringing it to your lips. It was exactly what you needed.

Aaron lied down and stretched out his arm, signaling you to join him in bed. You, of course, wanted nothing more than to cuddle with him so you were in his arms in no time.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in. “This isn’t enough, I need to crawl inside you,” you said making him giggle.

“Y/N?” he said, playing with your hair.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” You said it with no hesitation. After almost losing him it was clear to you who your heart belonged to.

“I’m gonna leave him,” you said after a few moments of silence. He didn’t reply so you continued. “I made the decision the moment your lips touched mine for the first time. I was gonna do it the next day I swear.”

He used his finger to tilt your chin up so he could look into your eyes.

“But then he started talking,” you said. “He said all these things about finally being happy. About how grateful he is to have me. And I couldn’t do it, Aaron. I couldn’t. And I hate myself for it, because what I’m doing to him now is much worse.”

“Hey…” he whispered and moved his thumb back and forth against your cheek. “It’s okay.”

It wasn’t. But his voice was so soft and sweet that you believed him. Even if it wasn’t okay, it would be, as long as you had him by your side.

“I’m never gonna leave you alone,” he said as if he had read your thoughts. “We’re gonna figure everything out together. I promise.”

“Why didn’t I meet you first?” you whined, hiding your face on his chest.

“I wish I had a time machine,” he said. “I would walk into that bar the night you met him and I would tell you ‘Hello, I’m Aaron. You don’t know me but I’m saving us from a lot of trouble right now.’ Then I’d pick you up, throw you over my shoulder and steal you away.”

You giggled. “What’s concerning is that I’d show no resistance ‘cause I’d think you’re so handsome.”

He laughed loudly and pulled you so close to him you were on top of his body.

“Is that right?” he smirked.

“Mhm…” you nodded and kissed his lips with a lovesick smile. He kissed you back with the same smile on his face.

Part 7

ivy tag  list:

@preciousbabypeter @buckysmainhxe @galaxyofmyown @ssamorganhotchner @romanogersendgame @elhotchner @louderfortheback @northschild @iammirrorball @rousethemouse @kishie8 @save-the-sky @ssacharcoalgrey @realdirectionx @itsmytimetoodream @art-and-thoughts @red-red-rogue @dellalyra @feetgypsy @stella95827 @katieslotherford @jazzymariexoxoc @quietlyignoringyou @justarandommom @sebastiansstanswhore @lelifesaver @aaron-hotchners-girlfriend @whyamihere96 @dadcomfort @redbleedingrosesss @222brooke

[demonicbaby666]

The bar opening

One shot | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: JJ x fem!Reader

Genre: Smut & Angst

Words: 3k+

Warnings: jealous JJ, top!JJ, bottom!reader, fingering, alcohol mentioned, public toilet sex, possession.

 Summary: Y/n and JJ had previously had a on and off relationship. JJ didn’t want to tell anyone on the team, or progress past casual hook ups. Y/n broke things off a couple weeks prior and since them JJ had been giving her the cold shoulder until one night at a new bar opening where her jealously becomes overwhelming.

A/n: I’m completely new to writing one shots so please bare with me. If there are typos I apologise. Im willing to take requests so throw them my way! Without further ado, enjoy🧡

Emily and y/n made their way into the crowded bar searching for the two blondes they’d planned to meet at the new bar opening.

Then she saw her. JJ leaned against the bar, waiting for the bartender to make her drink. She was wearing a pair of tight-fitting jeans and a sheer black blouse with a black lacey bralette underneath. Y/n drank up the view in front of her stopping as her eyes settled on JJ’s taut abs. She hungrily licked her lips.

“Pick your jaw off the floor idiot,” Emily whispered.

“You’re here!” Penelope excitedly shouted over the noise of people talking and started to run over to hug y/n and Emily.

JJ stayed at the bar waiting for their drinks but her eyeline followed Garcia, stopping as they reached their target. Her breath hitched and her throat suddenly became dry, she needed that drink asap.

Y/n was wearing a tight-fitting black dress, accompanied by a leather jacket and booted heels. Her hair was done to perfection as was her makeup. She looked jaw-droppingly good.

Y/n sauntered towards the bar; JJ’s eyes unapologetically remained on her. The women half-heartedly hugged y/n to keep up appearances.

Y/n broke away from the sorry excuse of a hug and ordered her drink. She noted the bartender clearly had wandering eyes, shamelessly checking her out whilst taking her order, delivering her martini before she even started making the other ladies’ drinks.

JJ caught the hunger in the young bartender’s eyes, she clenched her jaw, and her stomach began to churn. Once the drinks were ready the four women made their way to a circular booth and began chit-chatting. The conversation took an unexpected turn.

“She was totally checking you out y/n!” Emily teased gesturing to the bartender. “You should go talk to her.”

“Emily, don’t start,” y/n said shaking her head.

“I think she practically undressed you with her eyes.” JJ retorted openly rolling her eyes.

“Ohhhhh. That’s why you got your drink first?!” Penelope gasped. “She’s cute, I agree go talk to her, maybe we can get some free drinks.”

 JJ plastered a fake smile on her face as everyone joined in on psyching y/n up, one hand curling to make a fist under the table and the other gripping her glass, her knuckles now noticeably turning white.

 The bartender was undeniably attractive; dirty blonde hair, dark lipstick, and adorned in a tight-fitting shirt and mini skirt. It was the idea of flirting in front of JJ that just didn’t sit right with her.

The pair had called it quits, more so y/n than JJ. Though it seems more than mutual and there was no fight from JJ in the matter. Y/b was sick of being used for what she believed to be meaningless sex and hidden apartment dates. The sex was definitely enjoyable, it was mind-bending, but being called at absurd times of the night and avoiding the topic of dating with friends was taking its toll. She wanted more and when JJ wasn’t keen on the idea of letting people know about them and going public, enough was enough for y/n.

“Maybe later, I came here to spend time with you guys, not to flirt.” She proclaimed. She looked to the petite blonde in front of her, who had found a sudden interest in the liquid in her glass. She kept her eyes glued to her trying to get JJ to look at her. No luck there.

Emily and Garcia had dubbed y/n the ‘drink orderer’ in an attempt to get her to talk to the bartender, each time she returned quickly with their drinks. Despite the pair purposefully ordering at different times, she refrained from engaging in conversation with the gorgeous bartender. JJ offered to get her own drink, though that was so she could give the bartender a death stare.

After an hour y/n made her way to the bar to order everyone a third round, refusing to get them individually from now on. JJ’s eyes never left her as she walked up to the bar. Y/n could practically feel them boring holes into her back.

“I could be wrong, but I have a feeling your friends over there have an ulterior motive to continuously getting you to order.” The bartender gestured to the group. When y/n turned around all their heads whipped back around, and laughter erupted from the table, more so from Emily and Garcia.

“I think they want free drinks,” she laughed.

 “I tell you what, things are getting more and more hectic so how about you come behind the bar and help me make their drinks?” She asked with a wink. “They’ll be on the house.”

Y/n couldn’t resist, mainly because it seemed like it’d be fun more than anything, though the idea of making JJ envious echoed in the back of her head.

Smirking y/n replied, “Sounds like a fair deal.” She made her way behind the bar and did as she was instructed by the blonde.

Anger pulsed through JJ’s veins as she sat watching the bartender snake behind y/n, one hand on her waist. She grabbed the alcohol bottle and poured the contents into the mixer in front of y/n. JJ had seen enough and adverted her gaze anywhere other than the bar.

A few minutes passed before Garcia whisper and shouted as she gawked at the view in front of her, “OMG!”

 JJ shot her eyes now filled with fire in the direction of the bar, y/n started slowly licking the salt off the back of the bartender's hand causing JJ's whole bottle to freeze up. Y/n head bent back at a slight angle as the bartender started to pour tequila from the bottle into her mouth.

Y/n winced slightly as the alcohol made its way down her throat. The bartender then placed a lime wedge into her own mouth maintaining eye contact as she urged y/n to pry it from her mouth.

Y/n was hesitant to do so, but the alcohol took won over, inebriating her judgment. Fuck it, if JJ didn’t want to do anything like this with her in public she could watch as she did it with someone else.

The blonde’s blood was now boiling, her jaw clenched tightly. Her grip on the glass was deadly tight that it almost cracked under her unyielding grasp.

Everyone sat by the bar started to cheer and y/n burst out laughing at the show she’d unknowingly put on for them. She made her way out of the bar and took a bow. She brought the free drinks over with help from Emily and the bartender. They also received some free shots on the house which no one complained about.

“She seems fucking pissed,” Emily whispered into y/n’s ear as the two sat down. Y/n’s eyes landed on JJ who was sat directly across her, impressively avoiding eye contact but the rage in her eyes was unmissable. Y/n tried not to seem too proud, JJ didn’t want anything like this so she had no right to be jealous. Y/n didn’t belong to her.

“What’s her name?” Garcia asked, clearly the alcohol had taken its hold of her. “D-did you get her numbaaaa?”

“Her name’s Erika, and yes, I gave her my number after making it clear that I’d love to hang out as friends, which she was cool with.”

“That’s a shame, you two looked like you hit off,” Penelope said with a sad pout, “Sure you didn’t feel anything?”

“I’m not interested in her in that way,” Y/n said smiling sympathetically, Penelope was most definitely drunk and looked like she was going to cry.

“Clearly.” JJ scoffed quietly with a tight-lipped smile. It may have been said quietly but y/n heard it loud and clear.

“You can’t choose who you fall for I guess,” Emily said her eyes darting between JJ and y/n. JJ felt her heart drop at the comment. Reaching over she took Penelope’s hand.

“Come on, let’s get you some air.” She said a sudden shift in her tone which annoyingly warmed y/n’s heart. How could someone be so cold yet so kind and caring? It perplexed y/n and she hated that after everything she still wanted to understand how the cogs turned and worked in JJ’s mind.

Emily and y/n decided to head over to the small dance floor, it was more populated now than when they had first entered the bar. Erika finished her shift and asked if she could join them, her answer was provided in the form of Emily pulling the woman in to dance with them.

After two songs Penelope and JJ came and joined everyone on the dance floor. Y/n watched JJ dance from the corner of her eyes, she bit her lip as she noticed how her shirt began to cling to her from all the sweat. Her whole torso was on display through the sheer material of her shirt and it was driving y/n crazy. All she wanted was to feel the blonde on her again.

JJ watched the space between Erika and y/n get smaller and smaller as Erika pretended to pull y/n towards her with an imaginary fishing line. As much as it pissed her off, she couldn’t take her eyes off of y/n, her hips swaying in time with the music, it was mesmerising and turned her on.

Y/n moved her hands up and down her own body sensually sensing JJ’s eyes on her, unashamed of the fact she wanted to taut the blonde further. JJ felt heat rise between her legs, her heart began to race as she pictured all the things she wanted to do to y/n.

Erika’s hands snaked around y/n’s hips and pulled their bodies together. Y/n was practically grinding on her, her anger took hold yet again and she’d seen enough, storming to the toilets.

Y/n heard JJ’s heels, watching as she shook the earth beneath her with the force of her strides. She couldn’t stop herself from going after her. She swung the door open. “I spend too much time with Derek.”

JJ was leaning against the sink taking deep breaths whilst looking into the mirror. Her eyes shot up as she saw y/n appear through the door.

“Are you okay?” y/n asked her voice laced with worry. It was hard not to care after everything they’d been through, feelings like that don’t just disappear. Walking over she placed her hand on the small of JJ’s back trying to provide some comfort.

“Do you need to be such a flirt for fucks sake, her hands were all over you.” she choked out through pursed lips, looking up at y/n with a mixture of anger, sadness, and confusion plastered on her face.

Y/n sighed, retracting her hand from JJ’s back, she ran it through her hair in frustration. JJ confounded her, did she want her or not? It was all too much to understand with alcohol freely swimming through her bloodstream. She knew only one thing, and that was that she’d had enough of JJ’s bullshit.

“JJ, I don’t know what you want from me. These last few weeks you’ve given me the cold shoulder and everyone’s noticed it, so don’t fucking tell me they haven’t. You didn’t want to tell anyone about us, but they know something happened and I can’t say shit. I’m trying to get over this but you’re making it impossible. I’m not going to be your dirty little secret and plaything for when you’re horny. I fucking love-“ y/n caught herself before continuing, “loved you, I loved you. I thought we had something which you made abundantly clear didn’t. You can shove your jealously where the sun doesn’t shine because you don’t own me and I can let whoever I want touch me, when and where I want. So tell me, what is it you want from me Jennifer.” She let out a breath of relief feeling lighter now the truth was out there, it was exhausting playing these games.

JJ turned her whole body to face y/n, no longer leaning on the sink she was slightly taller. She placed a finger under y/n’s chin and lifted her head up so that she could look at her properly.

“JJ, please.” Y/n pleaded slightly taken aback by the contact.

In that moment JJ saw what she had done, she was responsible for making y/n feel this way, she’d given her so many mixed signals in a misguided attempt to protect her that she ended up hurting her in the process. She knew it was pathetic that she didn’t want to let y/n fully into her life. If she let her into her heart she could lose her, she’d been through so much and the hurt she carried would be too much for anyone.

She moved her hand from y/n’s chin to her cheek. The young woman relaxed and closed her eyes, focussing only on JJ’s soft fingers against her skin. She resented her body for becoming less tense by the light touch.

“Y/n.” JJ stepped closer and leaned forward so their foreheads were now touching, keeping her hand planted firmly on y/n’s cheek she finally responded, “I don’t know.”

Y/n felt JJ’s breath tickle her lips, the space between their bodies no longer existed, and somewhere amidst everything JJ’s other hand found its way onto her waist. JJ moved her head slightly back their faces were now millimetres away from each other.

“We can’t do this anymore. I can’t do this anymore.” Y/n tried to push away, though her legs refused, JJ’s hand on her waist held her firm and she felt herself getting lost in the moment and the piercing blue eyes staring directly into hers.

They stared at each other before both gazes drifted down to their lips. JJ’s lips came crashing onto y/n’s. She grabbed hold of y/n’s waist with both hands trying to pull her closer. The younger woman didn’t fight back and let herself be taken by JJ. The woman had so much power over her and she wasn’t ready to let it go.

Y/n felt a tongue glide again her bottom lip asking for permission to be let in. Y/n conceded once again and opened her mouth slightly, allowing JJ to explore freely.

She grabbed a fistful of JJ’s blonde hair as she was pushed backward. Both refused to pull their lips apart as they went crashing into a cubicle. Y/n was wedged between the wall and JJ’s body as hands began to explore her body. She moved her tongue into JJ’s mouth, and she felt JJ moan deep into her throat.

JJ moved y/n’s hair to one side and pulled her lips away, before y/n could protest the loss of contact, JJ brought her lips back down, now placing them on y/n’s neck. Waves of pleasure washed over her whole body and her core tightened. JJ moved one of her hands further down her body. Y/n pulled her dress up and felt JJ smirking against her neck at the act of submission. She bit down lightly on y/n’s sweet spot.

“Fuck.” she quietly moaned

“Who do you want?” JJ demanded.

Y/n didn’t want to give in, she knew JJ had full control over her, but she didn’t want to admit it.

JJ lightly stroked over her underwear and y/n sharply inhaled. She traced the hem of y/n’s underwear.

“Who?” JJ bit down harder on y/n’s neck demanding an answer.

Pain coursed through y/n’s veins but quickly subsided to pleasure.

JJ kept teasing the younger woman as she moved her hands to her inner thigh. 

“Jayje, please.” her breath was shallow, and not having JJ in her became too much, she needed the blonde to fill her. “You, I want you JJ, please just fuck me.”

In one swift movement, JJ shoved her hand into y/n’s underwear and inserted two fingers into her, slowly pumping them in and out. Y/n gasped as JJ curled her fingers slightly, hitting her g spot perfectly. Y/n’s moans started to get louder. She tightened her grip on JJ’s hair pulling her back up and the two met in a fiery kiss.

Y/n let have her whole, she gave herself to JJ completely and relinquished any hopes of having control when the blonde knew her body so well.

“Do you want Erica to fuck you like this?” JJ taunted as she slowed her pace.

“No, only you JJ. Please don’t stop. I only want you.” It was driving y/n crazy, all her dignity flew out the window wanting to chase her orgasm. She was instantly rewarded as JJ's thrusts sped back up and she plunged her fingers into y/n harder and impossibly deeper.

“Good girl.” She whispered into her lips and deepened their kiss once again. She opened her mouth slightly, swallowing every single one of y/n’s moans.

Y/n placed her free hand under JJ’s shirt, running her hand along the bare skin, she felt her orgasm steadily approaching, but not fast enough. She began grinding her hips back and forth, and JJ kept pumping her fingers in and out of her. The blonde pressed her thumb against y/n’s clit and began to draw tight circles.

Y/n moans were nearly screams and she was certain people could hear from outside the toilets, but she didn’t care, not when JJ was pushing her into a euphoric state.

“Only I can make you feel like this y/n. Say it.”

“F-fuck, only you can, fuck JJ, I’m-.” she whimpered against the blonde’s lips. Her legs began to uncontrollably shake, and JJ was practically holding her up. She dug her nails into JJ’s back earning a raspy groan, the sound itself threw her over the edge.

Her back arched against the wall, and her head back was thrown back from the power of her orgasm, she let out a loud and final moan. She was gasping for air as JJ slowed down but didn’t stop until y/n rode out the full length of her orgasm.

JJ peppered kisses down her jawline to her neck and finally pulled her fingers out. She brought her head back up and leaned it to y/n’s. Finally catching her own breath she spoke up.

“I want you, I want us y/n.”

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