#while we have Penelope the face of composure who’s loved him for as long as she can remember to the point where it has become white noise

[polin-erospsyche]

I love the difference between Pen and Colin. She’s loved him for years, silently but unwavering. While he’s just come to the realisation that somewhere along the line he’s fallen completely head over heels for her and he is UNHINGED about it. All I’m saying is Colin wouldn’t last a minute in the asylum where they raised her.

[katieb96]

What if Penelope had gone with the boys to Romney Hall?

A/N: Hi! I’ve never written anything before, but I couldn’t get this idea out of my head. If you happen upon this, thanks for reading! Also, if other versions of this story exist, I want to read them! So please tag me if you write them, or shout out other writers in the comments so I can hype them up!

As he nears unconsciousness, the Viscount Bridgerton pinning him to the wall of his dining room by his throat, Sir Phillip Crane wonders if Eloise will stay to care for the children after he’s gone, when suddenly…

“BRIDGERTONS!” A new voice rings out through the hall, and the siblings freeze, eyes wide. “Penelope?” He believes he hears Eloise whisper in disbelief. Phillip blinks through the haze of his blurred vision to catch a glimpse of the savior who had caused the viscount to loosen the grip on his neck.

He must be more oxygen-deprived than he had realized, because he is having a hard time believing that the small, soft, redheaded woman standing in the doorway could be the one striking such fear into all five Bridgertons.

“Have you all lost your minds completely?” The tiny terror bellows, planting her fists on her hips. “Anthony, unhand the man at once. Eloise, get off of your brother’s back this instant. And you two,” her commanding glare turns on the men who had kept their distance, “Were you just going to stand there gawking like schoolboys while your brothers brutalized this man in his own home?”

The older of the chastised schoolboys approaches the crimson angel, warily, but protectively. “Pen, darling,” he coos, eyes pleading, as he reaches her side, “we agreed that you would stay in the carriage until we knew it was safe.” The woman, who Phillip deduced must be his wife, eyes him reproachfully before replying, “And that would have been a fine plan if you lot hadn’t left the singular family braincell in there with me!”

The young lady, ‘Penelope’ he reminds himself, takes a deep, cleansing breath, and sets her eyes on Phillip, softening significantly. “Hello, Sir Phillip,“ she smiles sweetly, “I sincerely apologize for my husband and his brothers. They tend to take leave of their senses when they suspect one they love to be in danger. Especially when that one flees London without a word in the middle of a ball, forcing her best friend to ransack her bedchamber in search of any clue as to her whereabouts or safety while the rest of the family comforts their panicking mother.” Her unamused gaze had turned toward Eloise, wringing her hands and avoiding Penelope’s stare.

For a second, Phillip thinks he might have an ally in this fight. But then he sees the instant Penelope notices Eloise’s black eye. Oh, he’s a dead man.

He watches her posture stiffen, eyes momentarily darkening with quiet fury. She regains her composure remarkably quickly and turns back to him with the calm, powerful expression of a woman who knows she holds his life in her hands. This expression seems far too at home on her kind face, and Phillip wonders how many men she has destroyed in her few years.

Her eyes do not leave Phillip as she says, “I suggest you gentlemen return to dinner while Eloise and I assist each other in freshening up. It has been a long day for all of us.” Phillip, he is an educated man, after all, sees this for what it actually means, “I have decided to spare you. For now.” Oh, she is very good.

“Please,” Phillip rasps, his voice just now returning to him, “ask the housekeeper for anything you may require.” The terrifying woman gives him a small smile and a nod before turning to Eloise. “Shall we?” Eloise nods sheepishly and begins walking toward the hall, Penelope following behind.

Before she exits, Mrs. Bridgerton turns toward her husband and brothers-in-law. “We shall return shortly,” she says with a smile, though everyone can see the warning in her eyes. There will be consequences if they do not play nice while she is gone.

The youngest man turns toward Mrs. Bridgerton’s husband, exasperated, “You just had to bring her, didn’t you Colin?”

Mr. Penelope Bridgerton puffs his chest, “Greggy, if you are ever fortunate enough to have a wife as… clever as mine,” the unabashed desire in his voice making the rest of them quite uncomfortable, “just try convincing her that she must not only be separated from her husband of only a few weeks but also entrust the safety of her dearest friend and sister to said husband and his idiot brothers.” The viscount scoffs at this.

“As if you even tried to fight her,” the brother Eloise had tackled now teases with a crooked smile. The goddess’ humble servant husband simply shrugs. “Well, she can be very… convincing,” he says, grinning wickedly as he sits down to dig into the bowl of soup he had somehow acquired amongst the chaos.

‘Bloody hell,’ Phillip thinks to himself, ‘what have I gotten myself into?’

[mggpleasedontlookhere]

liar liar

request: I have a request, the reader is dating Spencer, and she and JJ are the ones that know that Emily faked her death. I’m thinking of it taking place in “It Takes A Village,” and she has to deal with Spencer being upset with her, like he was with JJ, but it has a fluff ending? Thanks!

for: @flklrevrmre​

word count: 3,722                                                                                     reading time: 15 mins

a/n: i) if you guys want to be added to my taglist lmk ii) can we all simultaneously fall in love with asa butterfield so i can read more fanfic about him? iii) it’s good to be back ;)

masterlist

You’d think that in a room of profilers they’d be able to recognize the antsy twitches of my ankles and the incessant rubbing of my wrists. Let alone the fact that one of those profilers was someone who knew the inside of my skin better than I did. My staggered breath elicited an involuntary gulp from my esophagus, throwing off my composure.

I pretended to stare at the blank screen of the television in the round table room, dissociating myself from the events to come. Curious murmurs and the shuffling of feet behind me became a chilling tether that reminded me of my circumstances. My breath hitched slightly at the presence of Spencer’s voice, although even the comforting thought of him only aggravated the disquietude bubbling at the bottom of my stomach.

I feel like I’m standing on the precipice of a cliff with the rocks rumbling beneath me. I knew this was a burden, a responsibility that I had to keep for the team--for Emily. I know that I’m not alone on this cliff, but I also know that the weight of this secret was slowly pushing all of us on edge.

-

“Hotch, are you sure you want to do this now?” JJ questioned him with an astonishing look. I tucked my hands into my pockets, leaning against the round table to give his proposition some thought.

“It’s time,” he sighed, lost in his world of thought. “We’ve kept this for months, and Doyle won’t speak about Declan. We need Emily,” he continued, pulling out his phone to ready an alert for the team.

“You don’t think Morgan can get through Doyle without her?” she reasoned.

“No,” he firmly answered, pulling his phone to his ear, and walked out of the room to call Penelope.

JJ shook her head in disapproval, taking a seat on the tabletop behind her. “I don’t know about this Y/N,” she announced, turning her head to gauge my reaction. “I just feel like...it’s too soon,” she expressed.

I chewed on my bottom lip, my mind engulfed by one thing: Spencer.

“What?” I snapped out of my thoughts, JJ’s voice finally registering in my head.

“It’s too soon, don’t you think?” she sought my confidence, but in all honesty, I wasn’t sure either. “I’m sorry, JJ but I don’t know,” I confessed, unable to gather my thoughts, “All I can...all I can think about is Spencer. I know it’s selfish, but…” My voice was caught on my tongue. Although there is a reason for that, I’ve been lying to someone I loved for seven months.

At the mention of Spencer’s name, JJ moved from her position to sit idly next to me. She observed the solemn and grief-stricken expression on my face, reaching over to lay a tender hand on top of mine. “I know,” she reassured.

“But Hotch is right,” I reasoned, “Emily--t-the team--they have the right to know,” I stammered over my words as I took a calming breath, exhaling out my worries. “JJ, he’s going to be devastated.”

“Then...we’ll tell him together,” she justified, a motherly yet comforting air radiating from her.

-

Together. That was the plan.

“Everybody take a seat,” Hotch gestured to the team. He folded his arms together and peered at his colleagues with a stern yet apologetic expression. “Seven months ago, I made a decision that affected this team.”

Everyone looked around at each other with curious glances. Spencer, on the other hand, turned to me for an explanation. Although when I refused to meet his eyes, it was evident that something serious had occurred.

“As you know, Emily lost a lot of blood in her fight with Doyle,” Hotch lamented, observing the sudden pensive atmosphere of the room. From the corner of my eye, I saw Morgan clench and unclench his fists, empathetic about the guilt that still haunted him. “But the doctors were still able to stabilize her.”

An audible gasp escaped Garcia’s lips, instinctively turning to gauge at Derek’s countenance. But the only emotion present was turmoil. His features had hardened into bewilderment, letting Hotch’s words resonate in his mind. Rossi looked to Hotch while Spencer faced me and JJ. The expression on Spencer’s face was similar to Derek’s, he was in between disbelief and denial. Although what I couldn’t face was his pleading eyes that begged for my confirmation.

“...and she was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under convert exfiltration,” Hotch continued to explain, receiving pained looks from his peers. “Her identity was strictly need-to-know, and she stayed there until she was well enough to travel.”

“What does...what does this…” Garcia shook her head, stammering.

“She was assigned to Paris and given several identities--none of which we had access to for her security.” Hotch finished.

Morgan scoffed in incredulity, retreating into his mind. Standing up from his chair, he backed away from the table, clasping his hands behind his head. Garcia, frozen in her seat, spoke apprehensively with glassy eyes, “She’s alive?”

My heart broke at the anguished crack in her deliverance, remorse eating up my insides. Spencer’s posture straightened up in his chair, leaning forward to question Hotch’s place in all this. “But...we buried her,” Spencer rebutted in a strained voice.

“As I said, I take full responsibility for the decision,” Hotch nodded at the team, “If anyone has any issues, they should be directed towards me.”

“Any issues?” Morgan seethed, “Yeah, I got issues.”

The combined expressions of deception and the troublesome atmosphere was enough of a cue for the individual in question to step out. In all her glory, Emily unveiled herself by the door with a conciliatory frown upon her lips. Her fingers were tethered together, an idiosyncrasy of hers that became apparent at the times of disquiet.

“Did you...you know about this?” Spencer flipped his focus on me and JJ, “Did you both know about this?” he scoffed. The dreaded time finally came, the time of confession. I opened my mouth to speak, but my throat tightened up, and my tongue swelled. Regret had tangled me in its inescapable ropes that no noble reasoning would have freed me from my part in this decision.

“Spencer,” Hotch attempted to contend, but Spencer refused to listen.

How was he going to take the news? How could his best friend and his girlfriend lie to him like this?

“Spence,” JJ sighed, “This operation had to be covert for Emily’s sake--and Declan.” By now, everyone’s attention was on me and JJ. I almost couldn’t handle the distraught expression on Morgan’s face as I wasn’t only Spencer’s girlfriend, but his close friend.

How could I have done this? I’ve not only hurt Spencer, but I’ve also hurt the team--my family.

JJ stepped in front of me, brushing a calming hand on my arm. She gave me a reassuring glance, nodding at me to step forward alongside her.

I couldn’t do this.

My stomach curled, and my hands began accumulating sweat.

I can’t.

JJ took a breath, peering at Spencer with regretful eyes. She knew how to get through to him--sometimes better than me. JJ was the shoulder that Spencer could comfortably fall apart on besides me, and I didn’t have the heart to take that away from him. That’s how I knew I had to venture through this alone.

JJ hesitantly opened her mouth to speak, dropping her shoulders in vulnerability, but before the truth can slip past her lips, I interjected. “Wait! um,” I paused, processing the next words that would determine where I stood with Spencer, “I...I was the one that knew,” I muttered through my teeth, knowing that every syllable was a lie. I stepped in front of JJ; averting the attention away from her. “JJ had nothing to do with it. I informed her minutes prior to the meeting.”

Spencer became despondent. His once ardent expression slumped into one that resembled a Tim Burton character, although it was the dejected glare in his eyes that crushed me. Nothing else registered in my head; I knew that I forever scorned him.

With the silence suffocating the room, Hotch called the meeting to end. Everyone wearily stood up from where they were, Garcia instantly leaping onto Emily with numerous inquiries. Spencer didn’t even bother looking back, instead, he paced out of the room, giving Emily a long-awaited hug, and left.

As Emily became occupied with the rest of the team, JJ tugged at the end of my sleeve, pulling aside. “Why...why did you do that?” she questioned, her expression deep in perplexity. “I thought we were supposed to tell him together,” she shook her head, sighing at the sudden deviation from our plan.

“I just,” I took in a breath, “JJ, you know Spencer, and...you know how he gets,” I rationalized. An aching sensation spread across my chest as I recollected the events before, a film casting over my eyes as I justified my decision. “JJ, all I could think about in that meeting was how Spencer would feel afterward,” I croaked, “You and I know he’s already been through too much. I just couldn’t,” I repressed a choked breath. “You and I are the only people he’s okay about being open to, so I couldn’t let him deal with this alone,” I smiled pitifully, a single tear trailing down my cheek, reaching my lips.

“Y/N…” JJ consoled, pulling me into her embrace. I knew that she wanted to say something back--something to combat my reason. But deep down, she understood. I pulled away from her arms, gathering my composure.

“I don’t know where we stand right now,” I bit my lip, shaking my head in sorrow, “JJ, just...just be there for him. Be there for him because I love him.”

-

An agonizing week had passed in the BAU. Emily was reinstated after the team’s hearing at court, the unit dynamic languidly surfaced again, and it seemed like everything was back to normal.

Everything but Spencer.

It’s been eight days and seven nights since he’s slept at our apartment. JJ was generous enough to let him crash with her and Will, which I was appreciative to know that he was at least safe. JJ would give me updates during his stay, reassuring me to have faith and be patient with him. But each night that I spent in a distant bed, every dinner I sat through with an empty bowl opposite from me, and every eerie silence that would suffocate me when arriving home thinned out my perseverance.

Every time that I would reminisce on the warmth of his touch, it tore the remaining strands of my heart. The snarky remarks and malicious glares at work didn’t ease my state of mind either. I was on a cliff again, but this time I was alone.

We were on the jet, working a missing child’s case in New York City. Most of the team surrounded Hotch as he briefed them on the case while I notably sat at the front to evade the disagreeable tension. From time to time, JJ would text me, asking if I were okay. I found the gesture sweet the first few times, but it soon became a remembrance of my reality.

“I need everyone to split into teams,” Hotch announced, making sure that I had heard his statement. “The M.E. will be ready in a few hours, so Dave and Morgan, I need you to go to the morgue. Emily and JJ, I need you to interview a suspect back at the station. Y/N and Spencer, I need both of you to interview the second victim’s family,” Hotch delivered resolutely. However before he could finish, Spencer already had his disputes.

“Hotch, don’t you think I would be more useful in building the geographic profile?” Spencer interjected.

“Reid, I can’t send Y/N alone,” Hotch reinforced.

“Well it seems to me that she’s capable of making big enough decisions, so I think she’ll be fine,” Spencer jeered. “Matter of fact, why don’t we let her interview the suspect instead, since she’s so good at-”

“Reid,” Hotch warned him, sending him a disarming look.

Spencer scoffed, sinking back into his seat, pulling his book up to his face. JJ sent me another text, expressing her condolences about Spencer’s performance, while I sulked in the coldness of my arms.

That’s all Spencer did that week. He pulled away.

-

One. Two. Three rocks surpassed my pacing feet on the sidewalk.

It was the only thing I could force myself to focus on, considering the asphyxiating rigidness between me and Spencer. I was quiet as a mouse with every inhale I took, feeling that even the slightest disturbance would rattle the seemingly innocuous silence. However, despite the invisible barrier between us, Spencer began uttering details about the unsub’s profile.

“I’m thinking that our unsub might be a woman,” Spencer proposed, looking straight ahead of him.

In an attempt to alleviate the atmosphere, I entertained his suspects, “Why do you think so,” I inquired. My breath hitched towards the end of the sentence, sending a small jolt of nerves through my chest.

“Well,” Spencer began, “We can see from the unsub’s methodology that they still nurture the victim--a mother’s instinct--before death. The choice of disposal also indicates cleanliness which we profiled before as a women’s attribute.”

Four. Five. Six rocks.

“That’s true, Spence, but the level of cleanliness doesn’t match the M.O, and the profile points towards a male offender. If it were a female, then that would be one hell of a job to throw off the authorities,” I counteracted, feeling safer in the exchange we shared.

“It could be possible,” Spencer shrugged. “Statistically, women are presumptively better liars than men. They do one hell of a job being deceitful,” He quipped.

Seven. Eig-

My movements stilled at the unforeseen comment, while the same pang in my chest reappeared from before. Despite the wave of self-reproach invading my thoughts, I swallowed my feelings and maintained my professionalism.

“How far is the house from here?” I deadpanned, evading the touchy subject.

“Why don’t you check the coordinates that Hotch sent us. You seem to have a closer relationship to hi-”

“Can you stop?” I exclaimed, stepping out in front of him.  

“Stop what?” He scoffed, refusing to acknowledge my irritation by feigning innocence. He proceeded to project his attention towards the side garden that decorated the sidewalk, observing the various flowers that littered the grounds.  

“This,” I gestured to both of us. “This, this thing that you’re doing. Wh-what are we doing, Spence?”

“You’re acting like you’re not at fault here,” Spencer implicated with a nonchalant shrug. “It’s similar to this unsub’s psyche.”

“That’s not what I meant, Spence.”

“The unsub also didn’t mean to kill the first child so you might have that probability.” He paced off a distance away, leaving me at my lonesome.

“Spencer, can we talk-”

“What if the unsub used a lure to get to the first victim,” Spencer eluded the topic. “Possibly candy or a tactic using the transference of parental authority. Either one would disarm the child.”

I shook my head, playing his little game. “Candy is quite the killer,” I added on, supplementing his theory.

“So are tears,” He quipped. “Hopefully the family can tell us more.”

With that, he ran off once again.

-

In a matter of a week, the unsub had struck again. Unfortunately for the team, our leads had been disproven, and our patience had worn thin. Chagrin had traveled throughout the team rendering us all exhausted. With the additional stress on our shoulders, Spencer’s remarks had intensified and painted a target on my back. Solving this case was the only motivation I had to endure the onslaught of his petty slander; however, my persistence was at the end of its line.

“Spencer, can you pass me a copy of the geographical profile?” I mumbled, running my fingers over my eyelids to wake myself up. I leaned on my elbows, feeling the heat of stress warm up my face. I glanced at Spencer’s movements from my peripheral vision, although my sight proved to be unreliable as Spencer’s face resembled an expression of--what I thought was--worry for a split moment.

Without a reply, Spencer handed me a marker. I looked at Spencer bewildered, glancing between him and the marker that lay in my hand. “What is this?” I deadpanned.

“A marker.”

I bit the inside of my cheek in restraint, retracting my tongue from spitting maliciously. “Yes, I know, Spencer. What is the marker for?” I fumed through my teeth.

“To write with,” Spencer replied shortly, focusing on the file he was analyzing on his lap. I shook my head, rising from my seat to walk over to the whiteboard that Spencer assembled the geographical profile on. I tossed the marker behind me, ridding myself of the negative energy bestowed on the writing utensil.

Before I could set my focus on the board, Spencer pulled me from my concentration with another one of his random probes. “Why aren’t you using the marker?”

“What do you mean?” I sighed, sensing ridicule.

“You’re modifying the profile at one of the points right?”

He looked up from his files, making eye contact with me for the first time in weeks. By reflex, I shifted my gaze away from him, guilt making itself ubiquitous in my conscience. “I’m analyzing one of the points of the profile,” I uttered. “I think our initial impression about the unsub’s disposal area is inexact.

“Is that how you and Hotch figured out Emily’s burial site?”

An ember began swirling inside of my veins, traveling to each corner of my body. I bit my tongue once again, suppressing the build-up of indignation coursing through me. “The location of disposal doesn’t make sense. It’s not even in the area that we triangulated,” I challenged.

“What are you saying?”

“I mean, could it be possible for the unsub to transport the victims to different disposal sites?”

“Like how Emily was transferred from Boston to Bethesda?” Spencer mentioned. “Then yes, the probability of that transpiring is notable” he mocked.

The suppressed spark inside of me aggregated, overpowering the last bit of patience I harbored. The ropes tethering the frayed strands of my rationality snapped, leaving my impulses to burst through the seams. Even my best attempts at subduing myself rendered useless to Spencer’s incessant commentaries. I was done.

“You’re relentless aren’t you?” I jeered, spinning around to face him. Fire laced my veins, and the childish sneer on his face only kindled my resentment.

“Relentless on figuring out this case.” Spencer brushed my comment aside, diverting his attention to the papers on his lap.

In the momentum of my impulsivity, I seized the files away from him, forcing him to acknowledge the issue at hand. “Spencer, you can’t keep pretending like everything is fine,” I threw up my hands in the air in exasperation, catching a few lingering eyes of the team.

“I don’t have to deal with this right now,” Spencer professed, rising from his seat to walk away. But before he had the opportunity to reach the exit, I grabbed onto his wrist, halting him.

“Then, when?” I taunted. “When are you going to deal with this?”

By now, we had attracted an audience.

“Certainly not with you,” he snickered mockingly.

“Reid!” I snapped, my voice rising in volume and fierceness. “You can’t keep running away from your problems.”

“Are you serious right now, Y/N?” he vocalized incredulously, glaring at me with bitter hostility. “You’re just bothered that you did something that hurt me--th-that hurt all of us, and I sought comfort in someone I could trust.”

“I don’t care that you went to JJ fo-”

“God Y/N! Yo-you didn’t even have the decency to tell me--YOUR boyfriend--that this happened.”

“Reid, that’s not fai-”

“Oh really? That’s not fair?” Spencer seethed, disdain bound to his words. “You know what’s not fair Y/N? I spent nights--NIGHTS--crying on JJ’s couch from the loss of a friend, only to find out that they’re alive,” he gestured to Emily sitting idly by the team, watching the scene between me and Spencer unfold. “What I especially loved was coming back to the same couch because of my own girlfriend’s deception.”

At this point, JJ attempted to step forward to intervene, but I waved her off. “I. Had. No. Choice,” I defended, practically speaking through clenched teeth.

“You know what?” Spencer scoffed, shaking his head. “Gosh, JJ has put in more effort into being my girlfriend than you ever did.”

I was suspended in place as the words rang out in my head. A shiver crept up my arms and sent harrowing shockwaves that pierced my chest. Simultaneously, a stinging sensation engulfed my esophagus in flames, stunting my ability to form sentences. “Spencer, you...you don’t m-mean that,” I swallowed my voice, mumbling a question rather than a firm statement.

I felt myself on the cliff again, but this time the rocks were slowly crumbling underneath my feet while burning tar glued my feet to the ground.

“You practically pushed me into her arms. When you were out there lying to ALL of us, she was the only one that stayed with me.”

“Spence…” JJ called out from behind me, attempting to diffuse the situation. Although, Spencer was far deluded by his discourse that nothing obstructed him.

“No, it’s okay,” Spencer assured, inching closer to me. With a repugnant sneer on his lips, his eyes squinted into a loathing glare, and his countenance aflame, he gave me what I couldn’t give to him: his truth.

A truth that I didn’t want to unfurl.  

“You know I don’t even know why you’re constantly reminding me that I can’t accept my mistakes or problems...” he bickered, a deliberate sneer etched into his features, “...because it was pretty damn easy to accept that YOU are my biggest mistake.”

-

I thought the rocks would crumble from beneath me, and I’d fall. I thought choosing to stand on that cliff alone, to bear the weight for someone I loved, was noble, even if it meant ending up in the abyss below.

But I didn’t fall. I was pushed.

Pushed by the very person I stood on that cliff for.

-

part 2 

taglist: @rexorangecouny​ @howdycharlie​ @honeymilk-4​ @linthebinbag​ @andreasworlsboring101​

[letarasstuff]

Girl meets World

(A/N): This was requested by an anon and is based on a show named 'Boy meets world', tho I never watched it so I went solely with the summary from said anon. I hope you still like it :)

Summary: Spencer's daughter is not ready for her first kiss. But are her classmates fine with that?

Warnings: Mean kids, angst but fluff at the end

Wordcount: 1.6k

✨Masterlist✨ ___________________________

Being on the not so popular side in school is not particularly hard, but it doesn’t exactly make things easier for (Y/N). That’s why Spencer was happy to hear from her invitation to a classmate’s birthday party.

“You call me and I’ll get you. I don’t mind if it’s in ten minutes or in two hours. Whenever you feel uncomfortable or you are done with peopling, it’s fine wanting to leave. Ok?” Her father tells her, sitting with her in the car in front of the birthday girl’s house. “Understood. Thank you, Dad. I see you no later than ten. Love you!”

Off she goes. Spencer watches (Y/N) going up the path to the front door, a bright colored bag with a gift in her hand. He considers driving up to Penelope’s apartment, which is only five minutes away, and cries with her over his daughter growing up with a tub of ice cream in both their hands. A second later the father puts his plan into motion.

Meanwhile (Y/N) is inside with a bunch of people from different classes. All those kids already make her nervous. But she is determined to make it through the night. After all, the girl doesn’t want to be seen as a baby that gets overwhelmed by a room full of human beings.

At first it isn’t that bad. (Y/N) finds a few classmates she has a class or two with and they converse. Until someone screams “Let’s play Spin-The-Bottle”. Now the eleven year old kind of feels like she is on a movie or a show. What’s next, she has to kiss the boy she has a crush on since the beginning of the school year?

Still all of the children gather around in a circle and a bottle is placed in the middle. “The rules are simple”, a kid explains, “The bottle chooses two people. They get five minutes in that closet over there.” Right, just like she predicted. (Y/N) is hesitant. They are too young to do something like that. Once again she doesn’t want to be the party pooper, so she sits down between two classmates.

Every time the bottle spins a dread weighs down in her stomach. (Y/N) is only eleven years old. Is she even ready to have her first kiss in a closet? Shouldn’t it be out of love, willently without anybody forcing two random people to such an act?

Seems like the others think these rules are fair and square. Everybody is participating with the utmost joy. Maybe it’s just her, who grew up with romantic novels written by people who not even her Grandmother witnessed alive being read to her for bed night.

Deep into calculating the probability of the bottle pointing to her, it needs a few shouts and a nudge to get (Y/N) out of her head. “Looks like it’s your turn to go into the closet”, her neighbor says to her, gesturing to the bottle, which in fact points towards her. The girl swears that the color of her cheeks is even darker than a tomato.

Shyly she gets up to the wardrobe. The remaining girls nod encouragingly while the next person is chosen by the bottle. Luckily it’s not the boy she has a crush on, this would be like in a fanfiction, too much like a cliché.

Just a few seconds later she finds herself in the closet. Is it appropriate to make a joke about coming out of the closet?

“Well, here we are”, the other boy says. (Y/N) thinks his name is Tyler. “Yeah, I guess.” She shuffles her foot and scratches her neck. “So, shouldn’t we kiss or something?”

Geez, that boy is out for action. “Uhm, what about if we do not? I’m not ready for that and no offence but I want my first kiss with somebody special and you are just a boy from my grade and there are no feelings between us and I need that special moment, because I’m a hopeless romantic.” The girl says all of this in one breath, making her speech pace compete with her father’s.

But Tyler smiles. “It’s okay. I get it, really. I won’t tell anyone. We can just sit here and talk until they knock. How does that sound?” (Y/N) smiles and nods. They sit down on some boxes and just laugh quietly about anything and everything they tell each other.

As soon as they have to come out of the closet, the other kids bombard them with questions. Tyler shuts all of them with one answer up. “A lady and gentleman are quiet and enjoy themselves.”

The rest of the evening goes relatively uneventful. There is a nice buffet and after that the kids watch a couple of movies until the first parents show up to pick up their children. Spencer is relieved to see his daughter so energetic and happy after the party.

“And then we played spin the bottle like in a teen movie. Dinner was also really nice and I think I made one or two more friends. Isn’t it amazing, Dad?” He answers her enthusiastically that he is in fact very happy for her. And Spencer is. But it kind of also implies that she grows up, a fact he doesn’t like.

The party was on a Saturday night and now it’s Monday, the first day after it. (Y/N) is ecstatic to go. In her mind her classmates finally accepted her for who she is. But as soon as she enters the school yard the kids from her grade look weirdly at her.

Immediately the girl’s mind goes into panic. Has she something on her face? Is it the way she dresses? Or is it some- The kiss. Or technically the not kiss.

“Hey Reid, I heard you are unkissed. What about I show you in the janitor’s room? Do you also want rose petals and candles laying around?” Someone starts to taunt her. The bystanding classmates begin to laugh.

(Y/N) has to listen to similar comments for the rest of the school day. A few boys from her science class make kissing noises whenever the teacher isn’t near them. Tyler once catches her eyes, mouthing an apology. But it’s not relevant to her at this point. The only thing that counts right now is getting through the last class without breaking down in front of the others. She can’t show them any more weakness.

When his daughter comes home, Spencer is already there. Hotch gave them an early off, since the last few cases were draining for all of them.

Instead of greeting him with a smile and the definition of happiness she enters the apartment with the biggest frown the father has ever seen on her face. “Hey Dad”, (Y/N) flatly says before disappearing into her room.

Confused, he assumes that she just has to do a load of homework, so he lets the girl be for the next couple hours. But as the clock is pushing near dinner time, he begins to worry.

“Sweetheart, I thought about cooking pasta for tonight. Do you wanna help me try Uncle Dave’s new recipe?” He asks at her closed door, respecting her privacy. There is no answer, just a sniffle from the other side. This alarms Spencer. “Sweetheart, may I come in?”

A few seconds pass until a faint “Yes” makes its way to his ears. Inside (Y/N) sits on her bed, her eyes are red from crying. “Oh Sweetheart, don’t be upset. Whatever it is, we can fix it. Tell me, what’s wrong?” The young doctor tries to console her. It’s always more difficult to calm your own family down than any stranger he meets on a case.

“I-it’s stupid. I don’t know why I’m upset over this.” (Y/N) frantically wipes the leftover tears away. “Hey, don’t say that. Your feelings are valid. You can be upset about anything you want, ok? If you don’t want to tell me about it, it’s fine. But I promise you that I’ll value whatever you say.”

The girl nods, finding her composure. “I- At the party we played Spin-The-Bottle and whoever was chosen had to go into the closet with the second one and kiss. I-I was in there with a boy named Tyler, b-but I told him I wasn’t ready. H-he was really sweet about it and respected my reasons. Dad, I’m not old enough and it wouldn’t be anything like I imagined my first kiss would be. But now the whole school or what feels like the whole school makes fun of me a-and I was so embarrassed.”

Spencer can feel her pain. Kids can be worse than professional torturers, he witnessed both first hand. “Oh Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I’ll think of something about it. How do you feel about coming with me into the office? The others are missing you, especially Emily. She has a ton of pictures of Sergio she wants to show you. And for tonight we get your favorite take out and watch a movie of your choice, ok?”

(Y/N) smiles at the thought of the pictures she is going to see. “Yes! Can we get pizza and watch Lion King?” Even though it will be the fifth time they watch this movie this month, Spencer is happy to do anything his daughter wants. She has him wrapped around her finger.

So not long after this heartfelt conversation they sit on the sofa in the living room, crying their eyeballs out after Mufasa died. He deserved better.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962

Spencer Reid x child!reader:

@ilovetaquitosmmmm

[hotchseyebrows]

good for her

a gotchgan and temily fic

the first @qvid-pro-qvo and @hotchseyebrows collab

a/n: my dearest darling qvo and i have a penchant for saying "yes, and" until the cows come home and well. here we are. also somehow this is the very first gotchgan fic on ao3 to my knowledge? it sure is exhausting being trailblazers but alas! the sacred duty falls to us

rating: explicit! very explicit- penelope likes her details, what can i say. minors dni, thank you kindly (threesome, teasing, cunnilingus, blow jobs, p in v sex, multiple orgasms, creampie)

read it here on ao3!

The ongoings and intricacies of the Garcia-Morgan-Hotchner household, told from Penelope Garcia herself to a very curious pair of BAU agents. Girls' night will never be the same again.

(In other words, Penelope gets absolutely spoiled by her two partners, and Tara and Emily get every single detail.)

word count: 4287

The energy is a low thrum in the crowd’s chest, most of them gathered near the edges and along the counter space. There’s too many points of focus - the final call for a bachelorette party about to make their way to another venue, the steady thumps of glasses being placed back on the wood countertops, people filtering in and out of bathrooms with too few stalls - but Emily can’t take her eyes off of the couple in the center. 

Derek and Penelope. Morgan and Garcia. On the dance floor, her arms wrapped around his neck and his hands on her hips as they rest their foreheads together and sway back and forth. Nothing else seems to matter to them when they’re together, except them. Him and her, their focus on each other just like Emily’s is. 

The songs are slow, but the rhythm beneath them is what is felt in Emily’s chest, as she hears the bartender announce her and Tara’s next choice for drink. She looks up, settles the tab, and then pulls away to walk back along the side of the place. The lights are low but perfect to give Tara another once over (tenth of the night, if she’s giving a conservative estimate). Looking up at her girlfriend’s smile and slowly working her way down her body. 

She’s not subtle, that’s for sure. 

“Looking for something?” Tara asks. Her voice has a little laugh in it, their own inside joke.  

Emily slides the drink into Tara’s hand. She sidles up to her partner, brushing a hand along her lower back. “Somehow I am still surprised that heels make you this tall.”

Tara laughs before taking a sip of her drink and leaving a grateful kiss on Emily’s temple. “6’3” easy, baby.” She sits down on her stool and grabs Emily’s hand with a smile. “Not that it’s not exhausting being this beautiful. That’s why I have you to fetch the drinks.” Emily laughs too, leaning in to kiss Tara.

After a moment, Emily pulls back and looks around. She wraps an arm around Tara’s waist. “Look at the lovebirds?” Tara laughs into her drink, looking towards the dance floor. Well, what’s left of the dance floor. It’s late, and the place isn’t known for its vibrant dance experience anyway, so the dance floor currently consists of a DJ playing slow jams (on request) and Derek and Penelope lost in their own world.

It almost feels like an invasion of privacy watching them dance now, Pen’s lips near Derek’s ear, the way he’s smiling gently yet with some hidden meaning surely behind it Emily’s too far out of the loop to ascertain. She can take a guess, though, as the two of them laugh and somehow get even closer - a miracle, truly. Penelope nudges their noses together before pulling him into a kiss. It makes Emily smile to see it.

That’s when Hotch arrives. 

“Emily,” he says, voice warm, if not a little worn for the late hour, “and Tara. Good to see you.” 

“You, too, Hotch,” Tara says, lifting her drink to him. 

After he and Derek retired, Emily was uncertain how they’d keep up with each other. It was Penelope who was that connection once they left, keeping the rest of the team up to date, with... well, both of them. It didn’t take long for Emily to deduce that it was more than one former agent who she was going home to, especially when girls’ nights ended with one or the other getting her home.

Nevertheless, even after five years for Hotch and a meager two for Derek, it’s still a shock to see him out of a suit and tie, though the polo isn’t too far of a cry from professional. 

They make some kind of small talk as Emily and Tara work on their drinks, finishing them while the song finishes as well. Aaron fills them in on the judicial consulting he does, and Emily can’t help but spill a couple of case details while the two on the floor start to drift back towards the table. Tara nudges Emily's side with a knowing smile, drawing her attention to the way Derek is spinning Penelope around with one hand and making her giggle as they maneuver closer.

That’s when Penelope turns her head just a little, sees Hotch, and lights up, making a beeline towards him, arms throwing around his neck and giving him a firm kiss on the cheek. 

“Aar-Bear!” she yells, and the music isn’t loud enough to drain out the endearment completely. Derek isn’t far behind her, hand on her lower back, rubbing along a seam of the dress she’s wearing. 

“Hey, Hotch,” Derek says, and his eyes are shining just as bright as Pen’s, even if his touch is restrained just to her. “Missed you.” 

His voice is still warm, however, and his eyes are soft. Emily dips her gaze briefly for her drink, sure to lift her eyes again to see the way he hugs her. “Hey, Pen, Derek. You ready to go?” 

It seems to crush her - her eyes go wide and sorrowful, and even as Derek wraps around her from behind she can’t hide her pout. “We have to leave? But, my darlings -” 

“We’ll see you soon, Penny,” Emily promises, Tara nodding next to her, arm wrapping around her waist. A united front against the force that is Penelope Garcia. “We’ll have another girls’ night, get you good and proper wasted.” 

Penelope lets out a dreamy sigh. “There’s that London in you - okay, okay, okay, I guess I am being… swept away by one of my knights in shining armor.” Her hands lift in a show of surrender, and Derek smiles at Hotch as he passes him towards the exit of the bar. Emily doesn’t miss the squeeze of their hands in the passing, or the way that Hotch lingers back to watch Derek and Penelope stumble forward through the entrance and out into the parking lot where his car is. Derek can only manage a wave as Penelope leans on him, and quickly ensures her safety into the front seat before getting into the back himself. 

“Thanks for looking after them,” Hotch says, turning back to Emily and Tara with a smile that they would have never seen on a case. “I owe you both.” 

“You don’t, but if you’re offering to pay for our Uber…” 

There’s a little laugh shared among the three of them, and Hotch opens his mouth to answer. Unfortunately, confirmation is lost as Penelope sticks her head out of the window without a thought in the world, blonde curls falling in front of her face as she yells out to Aaron. “Aaron Hotchner, my sweet love, if you don’t get in this car and take me home to rail me right now, I will scream.” 

Tara and Emily can’t help the way they stop, heads whipping around to look at Penelope. Her smile is bright, and they have just enough time to look back at their old unit chief. Aaron has gone a bright, deep red, and Penelope has not budged from her position out of the window of their SUV. 

“Well?” the FBI analyst calls out again, and Emily has to keep her hand over her mouth to hide the way she’s about to break at the look on Aaron’s face. 

“S-Sorry, I’ll - I’ll see you both,” he manages, starting to move towards the car he has to now drive. 

“Wonder what that looks like at the… Garcia-Morgan-Hotchner home,” Emily whispers to Tara, hand still over her mouth.

Tara does laugh, though - Hotch looks like he’s struggling to maintain any semblance of composure as he makes his way to the car, and she can see Derek’s face on Penelope’s neck as she waves wildly at them when the vehicle drives off. “It is… intriguing,” she admits, and Emily can’t hold in her laugh any longer as the two of them find their own way home. 

-

It lingers. Penelope’s words, Hotch’s face, Derek’s laugh sounding off from the backseat. It sticks with Tara and Emily on the way home, and Emily is the one who eventually breaks. 

It’s an innocuous enough text. The response, however, required a bit more context. 

-

Emily: so did he rail you?

Pen: 🥴😵‍💫🥳🤩☄️🍑🍆🍌🍽

Emily: …… not the dinner plate.

Pen: what!!! he had to clean up the mess somehow ;)

Pen: do you want… details? because i can give you details…

-

Tara and Emily have to pause. Take a moment, look at each other, trying to decide if details are what they want at this moment. On the one hand, that would be more information than they ever thought they would get about two of their closest friends (they know far too much about Penelope for much to be a surprise - they think.) but on the other, it’s been incredibly… intriguing, this glimpse into the Garcia-Morgan-Hotchner household. They weigh the options, and curiosity wins out in the end.

They do in fact want all the details. 

Go for it, Pen, Tara responds, and they are not nearly prepared enough for the deluge of texts they get next. 

-

Pen: at every red light i was grabbing his thigh and ghosting my hand along his, you know, and turning back to grin at derek who was just watching me tease aar

and derek wouldn’t be left behind and so he was leaning forward and kissing aaron on the ear and the neck and me, and by the time we’re about to turn in and we park he’s kissing me before we even get into the house, as SOON as we’re in the driveway

aar just gets so pretty when he's flustered!!! can you blame us for wanting to rile him up?? plus. hes SUCH a good kisser, my goodness

Pretty. That word sticks out to Emily, but before she can linger on it too long, Tara is jabbing her with her elbow. There’s no time for wondering, because Penelope is typing with experienced fingers and the two of them are enraptured. 

Pen: his cheeks just get so pink and flushed and he stammers when he’s all nervous but he’s still aaron, you know? so he’s all bossy and telling me to get inside and derek is laughing and pushing him forward and everything

and he's so HANDSY, like i dont think anyone would be surprised that derek cant keep his hands off either of us, but aaron... he's so. yea

-

Already they’ve learned so much about their former boss. It’s enough to make Emily’s eyes widen just a little bit, leaning back from the screen to think. It hasn’t gotten too explicit yet, but at the speed Penelope is going it’s only a matter of time. 

“She’s still going,” Tara warns her, her own eyes wide. She moves to set her phone back on the table, but Emily’s hand reaches out to stop her, lifting it back up to eye level. “We could stop, now. Delete from here.” 

Emily takes a breath. But she knows what she wants. “We asked for this,” she reminds her, and the two of them dive back in. “And… we have to know.” 

With Tara’s nod, they keep going. 

(The string of texts they get afterward are forever cemented into Tara and Emily’s memories. Not only that, but the both of them are eternally grateful that any consulting work Hotch or Morgan do is resigned to phone calls and emails, as they are uncertain they’ll ever be able to look either of them in the eye again.)

-

he keeps stopping me on the way to the bedroom to press me against the wall and slip his tongue in my mouth or to press me in between him and derek and trace his tongue down between my cleavage, so im already all worked up before we even get close to our room

and honestly. thank the universe that jack has been at a friend's this weekend because oh boy!! i have no desire to scar my beloved jack attack with his fathers'.... Behavior

ANYWAY and he doesn’t hesitate to pull my dress down, which, a) MEN, there’s a zipper, just tug a little, and b) SO hot when he just has to get right there as quick as possible, mouth on boob as soon as possible. not to mention derek is lifting my skirt and working on my tights, which, thank god, it was time to take those bad boys off after all day at a desk

so now derek is palming my ass and biting at my neck and aaron can't decide which nipple to suck on, so he's switching between them and groaning against my skin, and im just already so drenched

and then before i can blink, aaron, AARON, the only one without a singular drink tonight, looks up at me, and is on his knees. just drops. and i look down and he is under my skirt and before i can breathe his tongue is on my clit and he’s eating me out like he is dying of thirst ladies

and derek has to hold me up because we arent even in the bed and my knees buckle because oh my GOD he's not holding back at ALL, tongue flicking at my clit and then slipping inside of me and groaning against me again, and derek gives my tits some attention with a free hand as he murmurs in my ear and nibbles at my earlobe

and at that point im jello, im shaky, barely standing, i’ve got two gorgeous men determined to make me come, then then aaron is pulling one of my legs up over his shoulder, and he seems to remember, in that moment, my direct request and he works up to using three fingers to fuck me, stretch me open until im coming all over his against derek and unable to think let alone speak and say something coherent. but are we done? NO - not railed, ladies

and im just slumped on them both- which in reflection is such a marker of our love and how safe i feel with them because i was not supporting my own weight at all, and it didn't even occur to me- and aaron is kissing my thighs and smirking while derek nuzzles my cheek for a few moments before im unabashedly whining for more

and when aaron smirks, when he SMIRKS, you know he is not done. and derek does not hesitate, he is sucking marks into my neck and he is asking if im a good girl and deserve more (yes) before he and aaron almost fully lift me to get me to bed. i am now in bed. i have two gorgeous men standing over me, one of them with me all over his face and then i realize. im basically undressed and they have not BUDGED.

and that simply will NOT do, because i want to see my loves in all of their glory (i mean time and place- sometimes it really makes all three of us go crazy if they are fully clothed while im totally naked), but there's nothing i wont get if i break out the 🥺 look especially with my tits out and my legs spread open just right

so i break out the look, im 🥺🥺🥺 with the best of them, and derek and aaron look down at me and they’re so soft and gentle, all ‘what’s wrong, baby girl?’ and ‘what d’you need, pen?’ and it’s like, i need my boys, that’s what i need, and when i say glory i mean glory, i mean that you haven’t seen GOD until you’ve seen derek morgan and aaron hotchner strip off their clothes for you, all so they can make you come a Second time

and i dont even ask for it, but derek tugs hotch in for a kiss before either of them push off their boxers and that makes my heart melt cause any reminder i have won the cosmic lottery in terms of triadic love will do that to a person (and also my puss THROB cause they are just playing up the tongue so much and im so sure aaron still tastes like me, you know? so ridiculously outrageously hot) and then finally i watch them both slowly reveal themselves to me, which like is nothing new but still makes me feel crazy because jesus!!!!!! i can't even begin to explain how big they are

and so in my field of view are two perfect huge dicks, two perfect awesome men, and me on the bed whining for both of them!!! and i must get some full words out because derek is chuckling and kissing me and saying how i requested someone in particular first, and then aaron is lifting my leg and pushing his fingers back in me and then derek is asking if he can fuck my mouth which do i even have to say yes??? (obviously i do, good communication always, but it comes out as yesyesyesyesyes because OBVIOUSLY DEREK 🙄)

so then the both of them help me get on my hands and knees so my beautiful baby can curl his fingers against my gspot all slow and doing these tiny kitten licks against my clit while using his free (big, huge, STRONG) hand to grab at my hip so tight i still have the marks, while derek kisses me a few more times before maneuvering himself to get his gorgeous and divine cock brushing against my lips, but not fucking into my mouth even when i whine and stick out my tongue

i am trembling at this point, okay? i am on the brink — AGAIN — and i know he’s holding back for a reason because i have a great mouth and im VERY good at using it. but then i realize he’s looking up at aaron, too, GRINNING, says “ready, baby?” and before i can think he’s got his hand on my jaw and he’s telling me to open up, and then i feel aaron start to push into me as derek is feeding me his cock and im - im gone, im in heaven, im levitating okay, because i am stuffed full of cock at both ends and im in my happy place

cause ladies, i really dont think i can properly express just how fucking HUGE these two are, like my brain turns to mush with just one of them inside of me but both of them like that? oh my god, my brain was leaking out of my ears barely able to stay up on all fours- and they don't even move at first just this slow slow push in as deep as they can on that first thrust and then just waiting while i twitch and tremble in between

and don’t even talk to me about the sounds they’re making — derek goes all tight and tensed and “yea baby girl” so earnestly but aaron goes all slack-jawed and noises that don’t sound like anything other than him, and then when i look up, tears in my eyes from, well, these inches of cock im taking, derek, sweet incredible huge derek, asks me if im ready for more, and when i blink up, nodding, and he can tell im not tapping out that’s when they both FINALLY start moving

and they are so well practiced at moving in rhythm together, at first they are both thrusting in and out at the same pace, making me so full and then so empty all at once, and then slowly they start working towards a rhythm where im never empty which is precisely what i need and aaron is groaning and telling derek that im dripping and leaking all over his cock and derek thumbs at my cheek and tells me im "such a good girl, taking two big cocks and loving it, needing more" and aar is gripping at my thighs so perfectly

i know there’s gonna be marks there, later, and that when we’re all done he’s gonna kiss them all sweet and gentle and make sure im okay, but right now all i can think is nothing but oh my god and yes and more. and then i hear aaron say, “i know she wants more, she wants our cum, derek” and that’s it, he’s so smart, hits the nail on the head, and he can tell because im clenching around his cock and desperately swallowing around derek’s, and there’s no time for patience because he said it and that’s what i NEED in that moment, i need them to come inside me and on me and all of it

and they both GROAN and then aaron chuckles because i just proved him so right and he starts thrusting harder and faster. derek does too a little but he also worries about hurting my throat by being reckless, and it makes my head spin to feel how he loves me like that, but then my brain is mush again because aar is rubbing my clit and bemusedly wondering how much more im gonna come before they fill me up properly

and i know he wants me to come again but i want him to come inside of me and make it messy, and so what happens is im moaning around derek’s cock, who’s groaning and trying not to fuck my face too hard but he watching me and aaron who’s fucking into me and who now has both my legs spread so wide im just on full display, and each time he fucks into me im moaning again, and it’s just a cycle and they’re heaping on praise and before i can think im coming again around aaron because he has not let up on my clit, and then he’s pushing a finger inside along side his cock too and i don’t know how he hasn’t come yet but i know he’s close, and i know derek’s close, and i know they want a third orgasm out of me because they’re incredible and insane

and tears are on my cheeks and drool all over my chin at this point because it's just so much incredible and wonderful sensation and im so stretched around aaron anyway, but then he slips that finger in? god. it reminds me of the few times we've had the time and energy to, well have them both inside of me like that and im just trembling and whimpering around derek's cock and i thank my lucky stars i don’t have a cold so that derek doesn't have to take his cock out of my mouth at all at this, just fucking my throat and watching me get a little lightheaded from only breathing through my nose and how good im being fucked

and when derek starts biting his lip i know he’s close, and i know i am too, and then i feel the way aaron grabs at my thigh and shifts forward and then he’s fucking into me, and can twist that finger, and can hit my gspot until im seeing stars, and god bless his stamina but i finally feel his rhythm falter and for one blissful moment derek pulls out completely, and aaron is out of me too, and i just know what’s coming as i can take a full breath before i feel der fuck into my mouth, and then he’s coming, babes, he’s coming and i get to swallow it all, and aaron gets to watch the way i whine with it and he loses himself and then HE’S coming from being inside me and watching some of derek’s cum drip from my lips, and as he fucks his cum into that’s when the third orgasm hits and im just — im gone. i am GONE, ladies. i can’t believe im alive. standing. able to speak.

-

Tara’s eyes go wide. She hasn’t been able to breathe, let alone think for about twenty minutes. She turns to look at Emily, who, while getting these texts herself, has trouble breathing or thinking as she watches Tara type out some kind of response.

Her fingers start. Stop. Start again. Emily feels her pain, isn’t sure she’d even be able to respond after all of that. Her collar feels tight. “Good god, Pen.” 

When Tara sends it, Emily’s phone alerts her of the notification. She lifts it up to glance at it.

Tara: “holy… shit….” 

Pen: "but anyway :) i am so sore today in the best way and have used that leverage to be utterly pampered all day long :) i love my boys so much"

“I’ll say,” Tara laughs, and it’s a little hysterical, leaning back on the couch next to Emily, pushing fingers against her temple as she reaches for the wine in front of her. 

There’s silence in their house, save for Sergio’s lone meow as he bats at one of his toys in the other room. A needle could drop and it’d deafen the both of them, especially as Emily moves to lean against Tara and sigh. 

“She seems… happy,” she eventually settles with, hand moving down to gently rest on Tara’s thigh. "And she definitely knows how to tell a story, my lord."

“One word for it,” Tara concurs, taking a sip of her red. “Good for her.” 

And with one last glance to her phone, Emily lifts it, locks it, and reaches forward to set it down on the coffee table. “Good for her,” she repeats, with a solemn and a careful lift of her own glass. 

And when she raises it, Tara doesn’t hesitate, the gentle clink bringing Sergio running to curl up in a lap of his choosing.

[ananicoleta]

Together Again

(A Space Jam 2 FanFiction)

Ok, so I imagine that after Bugs "died" in Space Jam 2, he didn't show up immediately. Instead, there were needed a few days for him to reappear, time during which the Looney Tunes thought he was dead. This fic shows their thoughts during that time, as well as a surprise at the end.

Enjoy!

WARNING: angst + kinda long

Daffy crept around the forest, always looking over his shoulder to make sure no one had followed or seen him. Not that it was very likely to happen. None of the Looney Tunes paid that much attention to anyone or anything anymore, so his absence would probabpy go unnoticed. All of them - him included - were trapped in their own thoughts and regrets, and the outside world just didn't matter anymore. The dynamic, the jokes, the atmosphere weren't - couldn't - be the same. Not ever since Bugs had...

Shaking his head, the duck snapped out of the thought that threatened to cloud his mind with pain and fog his eyes with tears. He had promised himself he won't let that happened. Just focus on the road, Daffy. You're almost there.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he reached his destination. The glade he knew so well looked just the way it did when he had left. The fresh grass, wet from the rain, shone into the sunlight as if it was made of cristal. The lively river cut its path through the strong rocks, running like a carefree child, while the birds happily sang their lovely tune.

Right in the middle of the glade, stood the well-known oak tree, tall as always, like a nobleman, proudly wearing its green attire. On the trunk, there could be spotted a poster that read: Duck Season. That was what Daffy was looking for.

He walked quietly towards it, still paranoic that someone might be there and see him. They for sure would ask him what was he doing and, honestly, he didn't know either. All he knew was that if he stayed one more minute alone in his house, trying to not think about Bugs, while automatically thinking about Bugs and missing him dearly, he'd go insane. He needed to feel the taste of their old game again, even if he had to play it all by himself.

Standing near the tree, he took a deep breath and began.

"Wabbit stheason!" He said, ripping the Duck Season poster.

Then, moving to the side opposite to him, he said in a quite accurate Bugs Bunny impression.

"Duck season!"

After, Daffy moved to the other side again and repeated the procedure. This went on for a while and it was, surprisingly, relaxing. It took his mind off of things and if he pretended hard enough, he could actually see and hear Bugs...

"Daffy?"

The duck slipped and fell right in the pile of posters that he had torn. When he lifted his head, he saw none other than Elmer Fudd, looking down at him, confused. He wore his usual clothes, complete with the hat and hunting gun.

"Didn't your mother tell you it wasth rude to sthcare people?" Daffy snapped, getting back on his feet.

"Sowwy, didn't mean to cweep up on you, duck." Elmer said apologetically. Then, peeking at the pile of sheets behind Daffy, he asked.

"Uh, what were you doing hewe?"

"I could ask you the sthame question." Daffy responded, not wanting to explain himself.

Elmer sighed and sat on the grass, his expression turning sad. In that moment, Daffy realised that the reason the hunter decided to come in this specific glade was the same as his.

Sighing as well, the duck sat down near his friend, feeling the depression taking control of him again. None of them spoke for a few minutes. They just sat there in silence, listening to the forest's whispers that seemed to mourn as well, as if it could feel someone was absent.

"You miss him as well, don't you?" Daffy asked after a while.

Elmer nodded. "I nevew thought I would miss him so much. He always annoyed me, always made me cuwse him. Now, though, I would give anything to heaw him again, to do pway 'Wabbit Season! Duck Season! Fiwe' just one mowe time..."

Elmer let out a stranggled sob and Daffy bit back his tears. If he had known that a few months ago would be the last time he, Elmer and Bugs would go through their hunting routine, he wouldn't have left, no matter what Al-G Rythim would have promised him. He would have listened and stood by the rabbit's side. But he was too selfish, as usual. He wanted to spread his wings, to be the hero of his own story and didn't care when Bugs practically begged them all to not go. And now it was too late. The rabbit was dead and there was nothing he or anyone could do.

Looking over at Elmer, he saw tears falling down his cheeks. Daffy extended his hand and gently wiped them away, ignoring how wet his own eyes were getting.

"Come on, Fuddsey." He said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Let's go home and do something else. There's nothing for us here, anymore. Maybe we can help Granny with that big dinner she wanted to prepare for all of us."

And with that, the two left the glade that held so many happy memories, never looking back, afraid that they might get a glimpse of the past, one that would make them lose their composures completely.

/////////

Porky walked through Tune Town, making his way to Granny's house. He had recieved a message that morning from her that kindly asked him if he wanted to come over and help her make a delicious meal for the family, since cooking alone was a bit depressing.

Although she didn't say it, he could tell from her tone that the reason she wanted him near was so she wouldn't have the opportunity to think about Bugs. Who could blame her? None of them wanted to think of Bugs. And they all tried so hard not to.

The pairs of enemies, like Road Runner and Wile E., Sylvester and Tweety, Foghorn Leghorn and Barnyard, went right back to chasing and teasing each other, though Porky could see the lack of energy and how forced it looked. Toons like Yosemite Sam, Marvin and Speedy were always away, probably somewhere where there was just them alone and their thoughts, where no one could bother them. Then there were the ones like Garnny, himself and occasionaly Pepe Le Pew and Penelope, that tried to cheer them all up, while they themselves were almost dead on the inside.

And it hurt a lot. It hurt to look at their dishearted family, trying to do anything in order to forget, even for a moment, that Bugs was dead. It hurt to feel so powerless to put an end to their pain, to hear them crying their hearts out, knowing that no matter what he said, it won't make a difference. It hurt to see them separated and not wanting to interact with anybody.

This was the main reason Granny had proposed the dinner.

At first, he didn't think it was such a good idea, but then he figured that they couldn't just stay in their houses forever, watching time fly by, grieving their friend. As painful as it was, he knew he had to put it all behind him and accept that they would never see Bugs again. If only they wouldn't have left...

"Hi, Porky." Came a voice from nearby.

Wipping his eyes quickly, Porky greeted his friends as well.

"H-Hi, Da-Da-Daffy. And hello, Elm-Elmer, t-too."

Seeing the black duck and the toon human cheered him up a bit. His family always managed to do that.

"Whe-where you guys o-off t-t-t, uh, going?"

"We thought we might stop at Gwanny's and hewp her with the cooking." Elmer said.

"Oh, re-really? Th-That's great, 'cause I was he-hea-heading there a-as we-we-we, uh, too."

As they walked down the road they continued to chat about this and that, just for the sake of making conversation and not walking in silence. They climbed the hill that led to the valley full of nice, suburban houses, meaning they were almost at Granny's.

When they made it to the top, Porky simply glanced in to the distance... and his heart caught in his throat. Stopping dead in his tracks, causing his other two friends to bump into him, he stared forward convinced that his eyes must be playing tricks on him.

"Hey, what gives, Pig?" An annoyed Daffy asked.

Seeing as Porky didn't answer, they followed his startled gaze, and saw exactly what had caused the pig to react like that.

Down in the valley, right near the entrance of Tune Town, there was a silhouette walking towards the suburbs. It might've been just a trick of the light, or maybe a product of their grief-struck minds, but the creature (that also appeared to have grey fur and long ears) looked an awful lot like...

"BUGS!" Daffy shouted and before one of them could do something, the duck broke into a run, all while screaming the rabbit's name at the top of his lungs.

The silhouette also started running, and in less than ten seconds, the two crashed, warping their arms around each other in a tight hug.

At that moment, Porky felt an uncontrolable smile spread across his face. All the negative feelings that had polluted his mind until then, evaporated. Instead, his heart swelled with pure and utter happiness. He also heard Elmer repeating over and over, excitedly:

"He's awive! Gwacious, he's awive!"

Letting out a joyous laugh, both of them ran as fast as they could, to hug their brothers.

Behind them, the rest of the family, that had probably heard the noise and came to see what was happening, shouted with surprise and glee, and ran right after them.

Slowly, one by one, every Looney Tune joined them in a giant, family hug that warmed their hearts and casted off their sadness.

Finally, they were all together again, and they were never ever separating.

[thewistlingbadger]

It's Over.

Summary: Spencer is approached by a handsome stranger while crying at Morgan's wedding. Inspired by the song it's over, isn't it?

CW: emotionally Hurt Spencer Reid, ralvez with post Moreid, angst, betrayal, Spencer has a panic attack, Luke is a good guy, they're both nuerodivergent, hurt/comfort, curse words.

To be honest, he never thought he'd be in this situation. He's at Derek Morgan's wedding, currently pushing his way through the crowd. Derek Morgan: The player of all players, getting married to some random girl. At least it felt random to Spencer. They don't even know each other, He thought. She doesn't love him. She can't love him like I do. The way I have been doing for the past 11 years.

The whole night he'd been trying to hold it all in. This whole entire time he's been trying to hold it all in, to not react. But how do you not react to the love of your life throwing everything you two had away? As though it were nothing? Was it nothing to him? Tears pushed out his eyes, He walked even faster. I gotta get out of here.

Yeah, it's safe to say that this is not at all how he expected the night would go.

He quickly scanned the venue for an area that wasn't heavily populated. After a few minutes, he found a quiet, secluded spot.

He descended to the ground. His fingers fumbled when trying to take off his tie. He threw it away from himself in fury, letting every pent up emotion out.

For once in his life he let the sobs rack through his body. For once he let out every fucking tear imaginable and he did not wipe them away. He let the snot drip down to his chin and his lungs feel like there was no air left on earth.

Spencer Reid was full on ugly crying. It would be a first for everyone, including Luke Alvez.

Luke didn't really know what he was doing there. I guess he was just stunned when Peneople Garcia, the person who hates him the most, asked him to be her plus one to this wedding. He couldn't even remember if he's ever actually been to a wedding before. But he was trying to get on her good side so he had said yes.

The whole night was weird for him. The venue was packed with faces he didn't recognize; And at first chance, Penelope ditched him to go talk to the groom.

At least the food was free and the champagne was expensive right? He started to wander when his ears picked up the sound of sobs. He cautiously followed the sound and and a person with shaggy light brown hair with a long torso was revealed to him.

"Are you okay?" The voice of a man breaking Spencer out of thought. God give me a break. How the fuck was he supposed to lie his way out of this? There's no way in hell he can explain why he's having a meltdown at a wedding.

Luke sat next to the crying person, now getting a better look at them. They were wearing a tuxedo, had white skin, and a sharp jawline. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to...interrupt what you were doing? I was just looking for a way out of the commotion. I don't really know anyone here." Luke stumbled through his sentences awkwardly.

How do you get invited to a wedding of a person you don't know? This encounter increasing in its weirdness, Spencer asked who the man was. "I'm Luke Alvez, Penelope's plus one. I work at the bureau like her."

"Oh of course you are." Spencer murmured without thinking. "What's that supposed to mean?" Great. Now Spencer's got this stranger on defense mode. "Nothing. She always knows how to pick the strong, attractive guys that work at the bureau." Luke thought about the compliment. "Like the groom?" He asked.

This made Spencer think too. How well did he actually know Derek? Did he even know Derek at all? "As of my knowledge, they never dated. But nothing would surprise me when it comes to that man." The bitter tone of the person brought Luke back to the problem at hand and away from his questions about the groom.

Luke desperately tried to ease his way out of the awkwardness. But he was Luke Alvez, so he failed miserably. "It's a nice spot you picked. Outside but not near the valet. It's nice to get the breeze through your hair. It's also not super-" A laugh interrupted his description of the site.

Luke joined in with the soft chuckles. "This has been a strange night to say the least." "Yeah no kidding." Luke said with a smile. "I never thought it would be like this." Spencer admitted, looking up to the night sky. "... what'd ya mean by that?" Luke was looking at the other person.

"I was fine, with the women. Who'd just stroll into his life now and again. I was fine, because I knew, that was just a silly game to him. It was just someone to grind with at the club. Someone to go home with, who he had no intention of seeing again. A 'How many women could I take home in one night?' kinda thing."

The person let out a sigh. "I was even fine with her! Because I knew, she'd be like all the others. Either he'd get bored of her in 3 weeks tops or she would be disappointed that he always had to go and then she'd leave. And after, being with him for over a decade, I just." Spencer hugged his knees. "I just never thought I would loose." Spencer brushed the tears out of eyes. The fuck was he doing? Crying in front of a stranger?

"I'm sorry." Spencer laughed. "I'm not one that tends to loose... I'm not accustomed to it." The man gave a look to Spencer that just made him melt. His composure was gone for the second time that night. Spencer started sobbing and this stranger, this person that wasn't even supposed to be at the wedding, was holding him. He was comforting him.

"I'm so sorry." Luke said softly. "Did....did anyone else know?" "No." Spencer barley managed to croak out. "We were on and off the whole time, off when he was seeing someone else. Most of the time a random girl from the club or some ditzy girl he bumped into on the street. Gay marriage wasn't legal yet we didn't want to be terminated. We didn't want our friends to see us differently." Spencer sobbed. "And now they won't see us at all."

Luke rubbed small circles slowly into their back. "I think the worst part is is that I didn't see it coming. The whole time I thought he was genuine. Then one day he walked into the office with a ring on his finger. That's when I knew it was over." The Luke leaned against him, resting his head against Spencer's and holding him close.

"He didn't even tell me! He didn't even address it. He just asked me if I would be a groomsmen as if we never even happened." His mind was telling him to shut the fuck up. You can't admit that you're gay to a stranger! But his heart was utterly smashed. He needed to vent, even if it was just for this one night.

Eventually, Spencer stopped hyperventilating and all he was left with was puffy red eyes.

"Well," Luke started, "From what you just told me, it sounds like this night has been horrible for you." Spencer gave a pathetic nod. Luke smiled at him in return, telling him it was ok. "No one should feel bad at a wedding, even if it's not there's. It's supposed to a celebration right? Or at least fun. Free food, free booze, cake even! Surrounded by people you love and- and music!"

"I don't drink." Spencer said. "Respectable. Tell you what- how about you and me, we get up and we go back ok? At least to get you a water you must be really dehydrated from all the tears. Did you get to try the cake?" Spencer shook his head.

"Oh man it was really something else. Do you like cake? If you like cake you'll think that the cake they got is fantastic. Let's go grab a slice and if you wanna go home then I can drive you home. You've had quite the eventful night you deserve to go home, only if you want to though I won't force you to obviously. I mean, it would be weird if I forced you to do anything I'm a stranger after all. How's that sound?"

Spencer smiled at the man. He's clearly nuerodivergent, Spencer thought. ADHD, was Spencer's guess. This night was already one he never wanted to remember, so it can't get any worse. So he took the hand of the stranger, introduced himself, and they went back to the wedding, arms linked together. Spencer grabbed a water bottle, Luke grabbed them a slice of cake and without saying goodbye, they went home.

By: Mic

[morgansmoreid]

Do You Still Love Me • Derek Morgan • Chapter Nine

Chapter Name: " Reasonable"

Fic Masterlist

Italic writing stands for flashbacks.

Content/Trigger Warnings: Parental Abuse, Drugs Mention, Homophobia

Bold Writing stands for what happened at the station while Y/n was not present

---

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

Four.

Y/n's feet clacked against the concrete floor.

Rubbing the palm of her hand against the outline of the pills, Y/n moved along the cars as she slowly walked to the station, this time her mind as empty as an open field.

The station was in her view quicker than anticipated. She pulled open the front door, the bell above it causing everyone who was in ear's views to turn their heads. Scanning each face carefully, relief swayed through Y/n as no face was anyone she dreaded to talk to.

Her relief was cut short as Aaron walked down the hall to her left with the team, her father, and James.

"That was all we needed to know," She heard him say as Aaron shook her father's hand.

James was the first to see her, alerting the rest of the people surrounding him by clearing his throat. Y/n made eye contact with James, her breaking first as her eyes fell to her feet. Thoughts of turning around and sprinting on her heels again popped in Y/n's head, but she ignored them and just looked to the floor.

"Y/n Y/L/N-Fields, please come with us." Emily moved from the center of the group and to Y/n, reaching out her hand to lead Y/n the way of the interrogation room. Y/n took it, keeping her head down as they walked past the group, eyes burning through her back as the pills in her pocket scream her name.

Emily opens the door and lets Y/n take a seat before heading outside again. Everyone is looking at the young female through the one-sided window, their eyes still leaving the same burning gaping hole.

Aaron and David come in, both faces stoic and tense. In hand, Aaron has a yellow pad and a pee cup while David has a blood test. Y/n's eyes grow wide at the objects placed in front of her before she sits up straight and lays her hands on the table.

"You aren't drug testing me." She says, her tone assertive but calm.

"But we are," David replies, looking over to Aaron.

"You understand that this is a federal investigation now? If you comply, these samples will not go on record but will be used for further inference. If you don't, they will go on your job record and you will be on leave effective immediately." Aaron threatened, leaving Y/n no choice.

"I'm clean." She mumbled as she rolled her sleeve for the blood test. Even if she wasn't, it wouldn't show for another 2 days, so it would be negative anyway.

Aaron said nothing as he opened the blood kit and wiped Y/n's inner arm with a sanitary wipe. Y/n winced at the needle entering her arm, the pain lasting as blood filled four tubes. Placing a bandaid on her arm, Aaron disposed of the needle in a different bag before opening the door and handing it to a hand outside.

Y/n may have not seen the person who took the bag, but she saw Derek. He was leaning against the wall across from the door, arms crossed. They made eye contact, this time neither one breaking it, just before the door closed.

"Do you need water?" David's voice pulled Y/n out of her thoughts.

Yes. Her throat was dry and scratchy.

Yes. Water would go well with the pills in her pocket.

"No thank you," Y/n looks up to David. He gives her the look of pity and sorrow and she feels herself hanging on by a thread.

"Come with me then," David holds the look as he turns around, cup in hand, and opens the door for Y/n.

Walking out, Y/n and David turn to the right from the small room while the team and others are on the left. David stands outside of the unisex bathroom as Y/n pees in the given cup. Washing her hands, Y/n stares at herself in the mirror.

Her eyes are red and her arm is now in pain. She feels like she's in one of those bad teenage romcoms, where the main character fucks up her life and in the end, it gets better. She's just waiting for her cue.

The silence lasts in the bathroom as Y/n bags her cup and places it on the small window ledge. She could run right now if she wanted to, but it wouldn't be worth it. Y/n turns on the bathroom faucet again and pulls out the baggie of pills from her pocket. 7 white tablets look at her as she takes one into her hand and shoves the rest back into hiding.

Just before she could bring her hand to her mouth and consume the evil, little miraculous wonder, David knocked on the door causing her to drop the pill in fright. Right into a puddle of "water," the pill went as Y/n hissed at the closed brown door.

"Fuck!" Her words echoed in the small room.

"Y/n? Is everything ok in there?" David's voice is muffled on the other side.

Instead of answering him, Y/n grabs the cup and pushes open the door, slamming the cup into the elder's hand and walking back into the integration room. She passes everyone, this time not bothering to even acknowledge Derek's presence, or his attempt to talk to her.

She slacks down in her seat and waits for the next person to walk through the door. It's Aaron again, with Penelope's laptop and a tape recorder in hand as he carries a file in his armpit.

"Before we start, shall I address you as Fields or Y/L/N?" Aaron precautions.

"Y/L/N, and only Y/L/N," Y/n says, voice cold as ice.

"Ok then, for the record, can you please state your full name, your age, and the year?" The first question leaves Aaron's lips.

"My name is Y/n Y/L/N, I am 29, and it's the year 2008."

Hotch scribbles Y/n's words down and opens the laptop. When he turns it to her, it's already open to a cheer photo from Y/n's sophomore year of high school.

"Please state who you recognize in this photo." Aaron opens the file that was once under his arm.

Eyes read the screen multiple times as the memories resurface in Y/n's head and the names leave her mouth.

"Sabrina Chains, Joanna McCarter, Daisy Miller, Rose Henry, Arianna Anderson, Megan Smith, Daniela Choi, Christina Middleton, and Catarina Paredes."

It's not in order, Sabrina is actually next to Daisy and Joanna is standing next to Daniela, but when Y/n recognized the face, she said the name.

"And who is this?" Aaron hits the right arrow key to move to the next slide. Y/n is horrified by what she sees. It's not another group picture or even a single picture of one of the women, it's a crime scene photo.

It's Arianna's crime scene photo, the only crime Y/n wasn't surrounded by the group for. The hotel room is way messier than others, the behavior completely changed from the last 3. Blood is everywhere, money and jewelry are splattered across the floor and there are no numbers on top of the body or anywhere for that matter. If the other kills weren't personal, this was. Arianna was killed by someone in rage and mixed emotion.

Just how Y/n left the team.

She can only look at the gruesome crime scene for so long until she reaches for the hood of the laptop to shut it off. Aaron is quicker and pulls it out of her sight as he switches to another picture of the crime scene, this time the bathroom.

Two looks and Y/n is ready to throw up. She trained for this, she worked her ass off for the last 5 years on how to keep her composure, yet, she's failing to keep herself together. The bathroom is a mess, clothes are ripped and makeup is smeared on walls, this unsub lost control or this is a new killer. Either way, it's not Y/n and there is no way that the team can possibly deem her that low.

"Please turn it off." Her voice is tense and demanding.

Aaron does shut the laptop and turns it to him. He takes a minute to write down his observations and proceeds with the integration further.

"When you left the Police Station, you were gone for 2 hours and 13 minutes, where did you go?" He asks, writing down the question as he says it.

"James, where is she?" David asks, handing Spencer a miniature Newton's cradle to calm him down.

Everyone looks at James for an answer. After Y/F/N was questioned, he and James were separated for the sake of the case. James was working on a different case file, wrapping it up on the end of the conference table while the team focused on Y/n.

"I'm not positively sure," James lied, rubbing the back of his neck as his handwriting started to get sloppy against the manila folder and its contents inside.

"Well, where do you think?" Derek spoke, his tone snappy and agitated.

After Y/F/N gave up his truth about Y/n's past and her drug problems, Derek was also questioned, not officially, just about how much he knew and what he wasn't letting on. Derek was honest with Hotch and the team, telling them he had no idea about Y/n's problem. Yes, it was true sometimes it intrigued him when they had date night and she never drank anything besides sparkling water, but when she blamed it on "past issues," he assumed it ran in the family.

He assumed because he trusted her.

And she broke that.

"Michael? The guy that Chief Fields couldn't stand? He lived right over here." James gets up and points to the computer screen. Y/n's last coordinates were still up so he dragged his pen across the screen, measuring out the distance for the team as he landed on the only colorful house in satellite view.

"I thought Michael was who introduced her into the drugs in the first place?" Aaron walks over to James.

"It's not really his fault, I've always told Y/n that she could've said no," James responds, becoming silent from everyone's glare at him.

"Saying no isn't easy," Derek mumbles, so low, no one heard him.

No one could say anything as another policeman came into the room frantically about a new body.

Y/n had only been gone 34 minutes at most. There was no way it could be her so quickly, but that didn't stop everyone's thoughts from going to the deep end.

As the team flies into the SUVs, Aaron orders Penelope to keep watch on Y/n's coordinates and dig very thoroughly of the lives of the 9 women, 5 now potential victims.

"Someone has it out for these women, and I wouldn't put it past that Y/n is the glue." He said, tightening his holster.

"I just walked around, took time to clear my head." Y/n lied.

Everyone knew where she was, but Aaron didn't call her out on her false truth and asked the next question.

"When was the last time you purchased any narcotics of the sort, Opioids, Cannabinoids, Hallucinogens, and or Stimulants?" Aaron asked, unsure he wanted to hear the answer himself.

"Last time I was in town, 5 years ago." Y/n lies again.

This time, half of the team is unsure if it's true. James knows deep down it's a lie, but the rest of them don't want to believe it.

So Aaron doesn't push.

"And the last time you consumed any of the narcotics listed before?"

This question, everyone wants the truth, everyone is determined to figure out if they let another team member sink into their addiction before their eyes or if Y/n truly did put her life here behind her.

"As I said, last time I was in town, 5 years ago," Y/n says, her tone changing. It speaks of truth, which tells everyone, even her father that she lied about the last time she bought drugs and where she was, but they don't care about that at this moment.

All they care about is her sobriety, they were still her family after all.

Aaron smiles internally as he writes Y/n's answer on the yellow pad, then ripping the sheet off and sliding it underneath the cardboard. When he does this, the next yellow sheet visible is not blank, it's all of Y/F/N's previous questions. The horrible lights make it hard to see all of them but it still shines bright on the first one.

"What was discipline like as Y/n grew up?" Aaron asks his first question.

The question throws Y/F/N off guard. That had nothing to do with the investigation, what did the FBI want to know about his parenting?

"I believe you were asked a question," David says beside Aaron, arms crossed.

"This has to do what with the investigation?" Y/F/N asked, finally understanding the concept of what he was being asked.

"Agent Hotchner, are you implying that I abused my daughter?" He accused, now not feeling so compliant.

"I didn't say anything to imply, did I, Agent Rossi?" Aaron says loud and clear, bringing the tape recorder to him.

"Not at all, but I think you should repeat it, someone seems confused," Rossi taunted.

"Y/F/N Fields, what was discipline like as Y/n, your daughter grew up?" Aaron demanded an answer.

"Reasonable," Y/F/N said.

"Reasonable how?" Rossi pressed.

"If needed, I taught my daughter wrong from right," Y/F/N replied confidently.

"Did you at any given point in time, use your power as a parent to hit Y/n as a punishment?" Aaron asked bluntly. He hated abusers, it was something about finding pain and taking it out on others that he just could never understand.

"I did. But like I said when it was reasonable." His mouth forms into an undeniable smirk.

Y/F/N's hand went across Y/n's face.

"I said I was sorry!" The girl cried, she was only trying to show her dad an A+ she got.

"You're always sorry, there was no reason for you to knock that down." The angry male pointed to the empty cup on the floor.

Out of excitement, Y/n's elbow hit the plastic cup and knocked it down, but she was backed into the wall before she could pick it up, dropping her graded test midway.

"Reasonable," Y/F/N mumbled to himself.

Anger filled Y/n as her eyes went over the word reasonable.

Never once was Y/F/N reasonable.

Never.

Clenching her fists, Y/n sits up straight and zones back into her conversation with Aaron.

"Can you ask it again?" She says, making straight eye contact.

"Your relations to Daniela Choi?" Aaron asks.

Y/n doesn't know how to reply, she knows Derek is watching so she has to careful with her answer.

"I was-," She gathers her thoughts. "We were pretty close."

It's not a lie. They were close, extremely.

"Who would you say Y/n was closest to?" Aaron asks James.

The team started the investigation from the very beginning, so now everyone was a suspect.

"I've got a funny feeling about that dude, Hotch," Derek says, but his judgment is clouded, he's angry and hurt so to make him feel better, Aaron took James in for questioning.

"Daniela." James's answer is short.

"Why?"

"They dated, for a long time, blew up our whole group," James explains.

"What group?" Aaron flies through the files that he brought in.

Instead of answering, James takes out a picture.

"He's prepared." JJ points out.

The picture is a cheer team, James is nowhere to be found but the first person to catch Aaron's eye is the babyface of Y/n, she in middle, engulfed in a hug by a female with curly mixed hair- Arianna he later finds out. He wants to question why James has this but James continues to talk.

"Not everyone was supportive."

"What?" Rose asked.

"I'm dating Y/n," Daniela said slowly, it was time the two told their friends, the thought of banishment slipping their minds.

"You and Y/n? But your both girls!" Rose exclaimed, as the pastor's daughter, she was raised to what she thought was right.

"So? My mom said it doesn't matter and we both know Y/F/N won't bat an eye." Daniela spoke for both her and Y/n.

"Guys! Help me out here, tell them it's wrong." Rose looked around the booth, empty cups filled the large table as her high pitch voice filled the empty diner.

"How is it wrong?" Caterina scoffed, she could never have the courage to do what Danny and Y/n are doing but she'll stand by them no matter what.

"The bible-" Rose protests.

"For the last time, not all of us live by the damn bible!" James slammed his hand on the teal table before them.

Everyone loved each other, no one cared for anyone's flaws, like Rose's, who always ignored everyone when they try to tell her they don't want to hear bible quotes, or Y/n who always inserts herself into drama.

They were each other's little family and until now nothing has torn them apart.

"I refuse to be around them and their sins," Rose shoved her finger into Y/n's, finally the young girl to stand up.

"And we refuse to be around you." Y/n's tone is cold and tense.

"We all do." Arianna stood up.

"Christina?" Rose looked at the oldest for help.

"You heard them, you can't hate one without hating all of us." She said.

Christina's word was final. If she said someone was out, they were out, no discussion. She just had to say the words.

"Rose, are you staying or leaving?" She asked.

"I'm leaving, my dignity lasts." Rose proudly held her head high.

"Bye then. You longer are allowed to hang out with us." Christina said with much more pride.

The 10 at the table watched the first walk away.

"Not everyone agreed." James rephrased his sentence, fists clenching in anger.

As James told Aaron how the day that Rose left the group went, his fingers dug deeper into his hand, and when he finally let go, crescent marks left their place.

"When you say close, what do you mean?" Aaron wants to hear from Y/n, James is not trustworthy enough right now.

"I had a relationship with Daniela," Y/n admits.

Hearing the words makes Derek turn on his heels and leave the group in the hall. He needs air, he needs to be away from Y/n right now. He told her he was sorry about her friend and she just went with it, in his eyes, she lied to him.

She did the one thing that he always asked not to.

"Derek?" Spencer's voice called from behind him.

"Not now," Derek says, but it's more of a plead. He doesn't want to take his anger out on someone who doesn't deserve it, he wants to take his anger out on Y/n.

Spencer leaves him alone and Derek takes a few minutes to himself. When he heads back to the station, he refuses to join back with the group, he heads back to the table in the conference room and starts working, the way his handwriting fills each paper and picture easing his mind.

As the minutes feel like hours, Y/n's interview is finally done and she feels bare. She hates how much she revealed, she hates how much has been stripped, how her walls came down and she had no say.

She hates most of her answers were lies that found their way into her truth.

But she won't tell them that, they don't need to know.

They don't get to know.

Aaron lets Y/n head to the hotel first, but when she steps outside, it's dark. Her phone is dead and her body is tired, yet her feet take her to the hotel doors, they let her step into the elevator and into her room. Her hands ache but they plug her phone in and they pull her shirt off. Her hands ache but they turn the knobs of the shower and unbutton her pants. Her legs hurt but they step out of the jeans and help her feet kick them to the side. Her body is a temple of pain but as she removes her bra and underwear, as she steps in the shower, as her fingers run over her body and squeeze the soap out of her cloth out, letting it slide down her figure, she finds her self sitting in the middle of her bed, the air silent where she finally lets her self cry.

So many years of bottling up feeling, so many years of trauma, and it took 34 questions to strip her of who she was. Every single question she counted, every single time she felt betrayed, she counted, her life was out there to know, memories she hid taunt her.

A knock on her door pulls her out of her thoughts.

When she gets up, she takes notice of the black shirt she was wearing 24 hours ago. The feeling of Derek's hand run up and down her body in chills as she walks closer to the door.

24 hours ago everything was peaceful.

Now it's a shithole.

Cracking open the door, Y/n is surprised, to say the least. Both people are silent as she opens the door more and lets the person step in.

"Derek-" She tries.

"No. You don't get to talk. It's your turn to listen." He says, meaning every fucking word.

[validity-is-powerful]

if you don't tell me I'll find out anyway

[Masterlist]

Warnings: none

Characters: Emily Prentiss, Jennifer "JJ" Jareau, Aaron Hotchner, Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan, David Rossi

Relationships: Prentiss/Hotch, Prentiss & JJ

Genre: fluff

Summary: Prentiss and Hotch have been dating for eight months now, and the team is none the wiser. That changes when Prentiss and JJ share a room after a case, and Prentiss wears one of Hotch's shirts to bed.

Word Count: 2k

Prompt was #20 on this list by @whump-town.

Fic below the cut, or read on ao3.

__

"Okay, so," JJ begins, coming back from the receptionist counter to address the team. In her hands are three room cards. "They're booked and we're here on short notice. They've only got three rooms they can spare us. It was originally two, but one of the customers with a reservation cancelled last minute." She fans the cards out in front of her. "Who's sleeping where?"

"I'm not sleeping with Reid," Morgan chimes in almost immediately with a smile. Reid looks mock-offended, but doesn't protest.

"I'll share with the kid," Rossi says with a heavy sigh.

"I'm not that bad," Reid protests.

"Last time I shared a room with you, you kept me up until four am with rants about sci-fi movies. And don't think I've forgotten the Red Bull incident, either," Morgan says. He pats Rossi's shoulder in condolence. JJ hands the older agent the key card.

"Morgan, room with me," Hotch offers. Morgan nods, and JJ hands their boss one of the remaining key cards.

"That leaves you and me," Prentiss says, but while her voice is heavy, her eyes are anything but. They sparkle with quiet mirth.

"Thank god," JJ jokes. She loops her arm through her friend's.

They make their way to the elevator, all of them, then as they reach the third floor, the pairs go their separate ways. Reid and Rossi are already engaged in a deep conversation, neither of them noticing as Prentiss studies them. Hotch and Morgan look ready to pass out as they make their way over to their room. The two of them are roomed closest to the elevator, she notices.

"God I'm tired," Prentiss says as she and JJ enter their hotel room. She's tempted to faceplant straight onto the bed, but she's still dressed. The case is over and the plane is leaving at nine-thirty tomorrow, meaning she has a chance to get some proper sleep tonight. It'll be more comfortable to get out of the suit she's wearing.

"Only one bed," JJ remarks. Prentiss lifts an eyebrow.

"You handed out the key cards. Did you do that intentionally?" Her friend laughs.

"No. Truth be told, all three rooms are singles." Prentiss makes an amused face.

"Scandalous. And just imagine the boys' reactions." She lounges on one side of the bed, watching absent-mindedly as JJ methodically strips off her outer layers.

As if on cue, their phones ding with a text notification. Prentiss reaches for hers as JJ pulls out a clean shirt.

"Get changed," the blonde suggests, snagging the phone playfully from Prentiss. Prentiss rolls her eyes, also playfully, and gets up. She begins digging through her go-bag for any sleepwear she might have brought, and failing that, something clean and appealing to wear.

"Hotch is checking that everyone's alright and knows what time we're leaving," JJ reports, reading the text.

"That sounds like Hotch," Prentiss says, tossing an old shirt onto the bed. It's a little worn, but it brings her no small amount of comfort. She throws a pair of shorts after it. JJ frowns at the shirt, but doesn't comment.

Prentiss pulls them both on and climbs into bed beside her friend. "JJ. Get under the blankets."

"Sorry," JJ says automatically, still staring at Prentiss' phone. She turns off the lights and gets under the blankets automatically as well, then hands Prentiss her phone back.

"Who's your boyfriend?" Prentiss freezes, then realises that JJ had looked at who she had sent texts to recently. One of the conversations was simply titled '<3'. "Or girlfriend," JJ continues. "You know I don't care that you're bi, beyond supporting you unconditionally." She props herself up on one elbow, smirking as she looks down at Prentiss. "So. Who is it?"

Prentiss clicks off her phone. "None of your business," she says, the words coming out like she's trying too hard for casual. JJ pokes her shoulder.

"If you don't tell me, I'll find out anyway," she teases warningly. Prentiss smirks at her.

"Good luck." And with that, Prentiss rolls herself in her share of the blankets, facing towards JJ as she turns her phone on again. This way, the screen is angled away from her friend. JJ rolls her eyes, but she still looks amused.

"I see how it is," she says, and rearranges her pillow until she's content. She lies on her back and closes her eyes. Prentiss sends off a text to the partner JJ had just asked about.

Emily: JJ's getting suspicious. She saw I had our private messages labeled with a heart.

Aaron: Morgan has some questions as well.

Emily: Chocolate thunder wants to know who you're texting when you should be sleeping?

Aaron: You don't have a healthy sleep schedule either. I told him it was a friend.

Emily: Did he believe you?

Aaron: Yes, but he suspects it's something more. I've appeased him for now.

Emily: I know we've discussed this before, but we should tell the team soon. It's been over eight months.

Aaron: I agree. If we keep this from them much longer, they'll lose trust in us.

Emily: That, and I hate keeping this kind of secret from my best friend.

"Go to sleep, Emily," JJ mumbles, one arm tossed over her eyes. "It's bedtime."

"In a minute."

"Your mystery person can wait." Prentiss glances at her.

"He's my boyfriend." JJ moves her arm and cracks an eye open to look at her.

Aaron: What, that you're dating your boss?

Emily: That I'm dating at all. Speaking of which, I just told her I have a boyfriend.

Aaron: How'd she react?

"Since when?" JJ asks, sounding a bit more awake. "And why didn't you tell me an' Penelope on girls' night or somethin'? We're the people who hype you up for dates."

"We uh, we decided it was best not to say anything," Prentiss says, trying to keep her composure.

Emily: Fine. She wishes I'd told her and Garcia I was seeing someone.

JJ gives her a long, drawn-out, suspicious hum, then turns onto her other side and goes back to sleep. Prentiss is left staring at her friend's back.

Emily: How's Derek doing?

Aaron: He's asleep. Like we should be.

Emily: Sleep is too mainstream for me.

Aaron: ?

Emily: Don't worry about it babe.

Aaron: Riiiight. Goodnight.

Emily: Goodnight, love you.

Aaron: Love you too, Emily.

Prentiss clicks off her phone and sets it aside, then moulds herself around JJ's sleeping form. Her friend presses back against her a little, and Prentiss wraps an arm around the blonde.

She lies awake for a long time, head still buzzing from the case. She compartmentalizes well, but it still sometimes takes her time to wind down. This case wasn't particularly bloody or long, but it did involve an abnormal amount of guesswork and haste, because the unsub was moving from city to city, state to state, then killing and moving on again within a matter of hours. The team's home base had become their SUVs as they chased.

Luckily, the victim count was low, all things considered. But it had been one hell of a few days.

Around one in the morning, the rain starts. It taps familiar patterns against the glass, and she's finally able to doze off as the noise drowns out her thoughts.

*

JJ's alarm goes off, and Prentiss wants to strangle her. The blonde shuts off the noise before it gets to be too unbearable, but by then, Prentiss is already awake. JJ, as usual, is awake before her and is already stirring a cup of hotel coffee, giving it a disappointed look.

"Is it that bad?" Prentiss asks from where she's lying in the bed, blankets ending at her ribcage. JJ just shakes her head slowly.

"It's awful, and not in the good way. Shitty police coffee is one thing, shitty hotel coffee is another." She takes a sip regardless. "Also, we're leaving in half an hour, so you might want to get up." Prentiss groans, but drags herself out of bed. JJ gladly hands her a cup of the hotel coffee when she approaches, then smooths Prentiss' hair out of her face where it had tangled in the night.

Prentiss takes a sip, and makes a face. "Uch. You weren't kidding." JJ laughs a little. They drink in silence, JJ studying her more intensely than usual. Prentiss is about to ask her what's going on when JJ's eyes widen in realisation.

"That's Hotch's shirt," she says, pointing at what Prentiss is wearing with her free hand. Prentiss looks down at her shirt in a mild panic.

It is, in fact, one of Hotch's old shirts that she's wearing. She had swiped it from him, along with a sweatshirt, when they started dating. It's old and faded, but very clearly Hotch, and it brings her comfort to wear it.

Unfortunately, Hotch used to wear the shirt before she asked him out. Around the team, sometimes. Which means JJ knows it.

"No way," the blonde says. She sets her coffee aside, and Prentiss is quick to do the same. "Don't tell me you're dating Hotch."

"Um-"

"Oh my god, you are." An incredulous laugh escapes JJ's throat. She pressed her hands to her mouth in disbelief. Prentiss examines her reaction, but nothing screams hostile. Surprised, a little offended that she wasn't told, sure, but nothing hostile. Mostly surprised. "Wow."

JJ grabs Prentiss' wrist and pulls her to sit on the bed, grinning. "So, what's he like outside of work?" Prentiss raises her eyebrows.

"You mean, in- in private?" JJ makes a 'keep talking' gesture. Prentiss laughs a little. "I'm not telling you what he's like in bed."

"So you've slept together?"

"We have," she confirms. "We've been together eight months now."

"When were you going to tell the rest of us?" Prentiss shrugs.

"I don't know," she answers honestly. "We were planning on doing it soon, but an opportune moment just never came up." JJ grips her hand.

"Em," she says softly. Prentiss looks at her. "Please know I'm happy for you."

*

"We need to tell them," Prentiss says to Hotch as soon as they have a moment alone. The rest of the team has disappeared down to the lobby, and the two of them have a few minutes before their teammates grow suspicious. She and Hotch are standing outside the door to her room. "JJ already pieced it together."

"Will she tell the others?"

"I don't think so. I think she knows it's our secret to tell, and I told her that we'd been planning to reveal it soon." Hotch nods. They're both dressed formally again, in what attire they had worn yesterday for the flight home.

One of Hotch's hands comes up to rest on her jaw. Leaning into his kiss is easier than breathing. Both of them are loathe to separate.

"They'll be waiting for us," Hotch murmurs as she trails kisses along his jaw, pausing to nip the very edge of it before continuing. "Prentiss."

"I know," she says against his skin. She slows, ending with another kiss to his lips.

Hotch's hand grips hers as they walk to the elevators, throwing caution into the wind as they talk, planning together what to say and when to say it.

*

On the flight back to DC, everyone is awake. It's unusual for them to have an opportunity for a full night's rest the night before. Usually, they fly home in the evening. It means that when Hotch stands up, everyone looks over.

"Prentiss and I have an announcement," he begins. JJ breaks into a grin, knowing what's coming. Rossi looks like he's hiding a smile as well. Reid and Morgan just look confused.

"We uh, we meant to tell you guys before," Prentiss says, continuing where Hotch left off. "We're dating." A second of silence. Then:

"Congratulations!"

"I'm so happy for you guys!"

"Reid owes me five bucks," Morgan says with a grin. Reid groans good-naturedly, then looks at Prentiss and Hotch.

"If you guys had waited another four months, Morgan would've owed me ten," he says, and the team can't help but laugh with him.

[90spumkin]

A Case of the Supernatural- Part Two

Previous

Summary: Things at the BAU start to get a little intense with the newcomers and reader’s vague messages.

A/N: So I never meant to abandoned this, but lost all motivation a drive to continue it. I will try not to take as long for the next update. Also thank you @littlemissordinary​ for helping me!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Ghost! Reader

Warnings: criminal minds talk, supernatural talk

Word Count: 1257

“There have been three victims so far. Each a white male in his middle to late thirties. They all show signs of cardiac arrest, but the coroner has yet to figure out exactly what caused it.” Penelope was briefing the team including the newcomers, Sam and Dean.

Spencer had been watching these two closely, Y/n’s message echoing in his mind like a broken record. Sam and Dean, there was something clearly off about them, and they were good at hiding it, but he’d get to the bottom of it.

“So, what exactly about this case calls for the BAU’s assistance”, Luke Alvez questioned. He was right, nothing about these exactly screamed foul play. Sam shot a glance toward Luke, then with curiosity back to the screen. There was a flash to his eyes but as he stood, he extended a hand toward the blonde with a charming smile as if asking for the remote. Penelope tried to hide the blush that was creeping across her cheeks as she passed Sam the remote.

Sam cleared his throat and began to explain, “The reason the case was brought to us and now to you,” he clicked a few buttons and images from other crime scenes appeared, “So get this. This has happened in four other states. First in New York, then Wisconsin, Montana and now in Maine. This may seem like your average sociopath just trying to make a name for themselves. But here’s where it gets interesting.” He clicked a few buttons pulling up the coroner's report as he says, “The time of death is at exactly 4’o clock with every victim.”

“So strange.” Matt Simmons and Tara Lewis spoke in unison, giving each other a quick glance and suppressing their laughter. Spencer focused his attention to the man sitting across from him, “Agent Smith do you have anything to add?” Spencer knew he was getting looks from the others because of the tone he used, but he did not care. Dean shot Reid a look, green eyes flashing with a sense of confidence. Lips curling into a slight pout as he placed his clasped hands onto the table. “Well, Agent. I was just thinkin’ of who could possibly be behind these killings.”

Spencer went to open his mouth, a retort hanging on the tip of his tongue but just before the words fell Emily cleared her throat. “Care to elaborate?” There was a Yelp, and all at once the attention fell back to Luke. That’s when he saw her. Y/n standing right next to Sam but neither him nor Dean seemed to be able to see her.

Pressing a finger to her lips as if to warn the team to be quiet y/n spoke up “Garcia, use those superpowers of yours and see if you can find anything on these two.” Then just like that she was gone. Luke was still cursing himself for still getting scared by y/n. Emily slid JJ a twenty under the table while Sam and Dean exchanged confused glances. This wasn’t missed by Alvarez as he was quick to come up with an explanation, “I thought I saw a spider.” Tara completely lost her composure.

The team had been assigned different task and pure usual Spencer was given the task of making a geographic profile. He had been so focused on his work however that when y/n appeared, he startled at her voice. “What’s up doc?” y/n beamed at him the best way a ghost could. Spencer’s heart ached, he missed her. He only wished he could hold her but knowing he couldn’t just made the pain in his chest worse.

“Hello, love. Have you been assisting Penelope with her vague assignment you gave her?” Spencer snickered at that. He remembered how when y/n was alive she and Penelope were always investigating something the was far off everyone else’s radar.

Y/n just nodded, and her smile faded. “Spence, it’s not going well. I don’t know how to explain it. There’s just something different about those two, and there’s so much anger coming off of them. Especially the short one he’s like a bomb waiting to explode.” At her words Spencer’s gut clenched, that didn’t help his theory on who these two men were. Putting down his pens he made his way up to the girl.

“You know I will never let anything harm you ever again.” Spencer’s eyes swam with unshed tears. Her face softening, “Oh, Spence..” Before Spencer could say anything else there was a knock at the door. Spencer wiped the tears from his eyes as he made his way to open the door.

On the other side of the door stood Sam. He looked slightly out of place, but his straight back and kind face made up for it all. Spencer much preferred Sam’s company compared to his partner’s. Sam shot Reid a smile, “Not interrupting anything am I?” The doctor sighed, eyes falling where Y/n once was “Not at all.”

Sam nodded as he asked, “Mind if I help then?”

Spencer handed the man a marker and started to catch him up on the profile. While he was talking his brain caught onto something that Sam mentioned in the briefing. All the states the murders had happened were all places they had recently had cases.

Spencer trailed off as he stared at the map. He looked at Sam who was confused by his sudden silence, then back to the map. The areas these killings keep happening were all in locations that were far too close for comfort.

-----

Not long after Spencer’s sudden and strange departer, Dean joined Sam infront of the map, “Hey Sammy, did you and the skinny fella find anything?”

Sam tapped the marker he was holding against his chin as he stared at the markings on the map. When he didn’t answer Dean fast enough Dean started snapping his fingers in his brother’s face, “Earth to Sam.” Sam looked at Dean and said, “I think all we are way over our heads here, but I think these profilers are way over their heads as well.”

Dean stared at Sam and gave him a looking telling the taller man to explain himself. Sam sighed, “I think the ghost we’ve been hunting is attached to Dr. Reid somehow and I think the rest of the BAU team knows it.”

“And how do you know this? Did your new best friend just come out and tell you all his secrets?” Dean teased Sam. This caused Sam to roll his eyes and point at the map, “No he got all weird when we started talking about where all the deaths have been happening.”

Before Dean could say anything, the door shut behind them and leaned against was the techy blonde woman that Sam was pretty sure was crushing on him. Sam put on a friendly smile and asked, “Oh hi Miss Garcia, what can we do for you?”

Penelope started walking towards the men with a stern look on her face. She held up her finger and said, “You two are not agents nor Smith and Jones your last names. Start explaining yourselves. Now.”

Dean looked at Sam with his wide green eyes. Sam sighed and said, “Okay you’re right we’re not FBI.” Penelope stepped closer and through gritted teeth asked, “Then who are you.”

Dean held up his hands in defeat and said, “Woah tiger calm down. We’ll explain, but you’re not going to believe us.” Penelope gave Dean an icy cold look and said, “Try me.”

*

*

*

Permanent Taglist: @criminalmindzjunkie​ @brooklynxnicole​ @the-queen-of-moons @imdefinitelyfloating​ @muffin-cup​ @theintimatewriter @averyhotchner​ @spenxerslut​

[mggpleasedontlookhere]

dandelions

request: if you vibe with it Spencer X Reader lowkey songfic for Dandelions by Ruth B. Spencer is recovering from Cat traumatizing him and the Reader is a baby tech analyst for the BAU. The Reader learns Spencer believes that he’ll never find true love, and so the Reader pretty much corners him in the techy bat cave and makes him dance with her (to the song). Ends with a semi established relationship and Reader let’s Spencer know she’ll love him when he’s ready. :) ❤️

so before we embark on this story, I just want to let you all know that i’m only up to season 4 of CM, but because of tik tok, i know most of the spoilers already, but i’ll try my absolute best

word count: 2,167                                                                                     reading time aprox: 8 mins

masterlist

It was a leisurely night at the BAU, the usual fleeting agents that roamed around the bullpen causing an uproar of commotion was replaced by a serene environment that was inhibited by a few individuals. It was around the time of the holidays meaning most of the agents had either went home to their loved ones or went to the bars to their loved ones, also known as 5-6 vodka shots with a beer on the side. 

The lights began to dim at the office indicating it was close to midnight. My eyes had accustomed to the sudden change of brightness due to the simple fact that Penelope’s office was just a technically advanced bat cave littered with eclectic trinkets from thrift shops. 

I could remember stepping into Penelope’s office expecting an immaculate high tech lair, only to discover a physical representation of Pen’s psyche splattered in all the crevices of the dark room. Apprenticing for Garcia had been the best decision I’ve made considering that my original disposition was to work in counter terrorism where there wasn’t an unorthodox and silly tech goddess. Not only that, but the BAU team had become more than family to me, taking into account that my biological family had abandoned me when I was young. 

I grew up with a developed resentment against love knowing that people will always abandon you in the end. Despite my childhood, ever since I’ve joined the team, all that contempt dissipated transforming into nothing but genuine love for the people around me.

And sometimes I held a little bit of extra love for definitive individuals. 

I was closing up a few files on Pen’s computer, rewriting the encryptions on her documents to secure her confidentiality when I peered out into the bullpen, a forlorn and solitary silhouette crouched into a seat came to view. The chair swaying side to side in combination with the lackluster lights made it particularly burdensome to identify the figure. The bullpen had emptied out, leaving the creature to it’s lonesome, adding to the ambiguity of the atmosphere. 

It was only when JJ approached the cryptic individual that it had clicked in my head. Spencer’s hair popped into view as JJ adjusted his desk lamp to give off more light. She had her bag and jacket hanging on her left arm signaling her departure from the office. She conversed with Spencer offering him a cup of coffee which he politely declined with a tight lipped smile. With this response, she patted his shoulder motherly and made her way to bureau’s glass doors. 

The sounds of the rubber stopper hitting the frame of the door indicated that JJ had completely left, leaving the bullpen with the inhabitants of me and Spencer. Although I don’t think he’s acknowledged my occupancy in Pen’s office as he let out a disgruntled sigh, dragging his hands over his perturbed visage. 

In the attempt to leave him to his aloofness, I resorted back to my tasks at hand on Pen’s computer, yet an almost incoherent sniffle echoed throughout the office, catching my ears off-guard. 

I reverted my attention to Spencer once again, watching him pull at his hair while briskly wiping away the dampness that had formed on his face. 

I felt a hefty tug at my heartstrings, feeling as if my chest cavity began to collapse in on it’s self. My esophagus congealed to the sounds of anguish that emitted past Spencer’s lips, feeling destitute as the boy became his own source of self reproach. 

My thoughts fought each other for the custody of my actions, contesting the ideas of soothing the boy or leaving him to his own. It was quite a delicate matter to approach considering the topics that had led him to spiral. 

Spencer Reid had only cared about one thing in the world: his mother and with the recent allegations with Cat Adams resurfacing, he’s been nothing but a ball of disquietude. His intelligence was the only wall that he’d build around himself that protected his unconscious mind from blemishing the utopian reality he had constructed in his conscious mind. It had been the barrier between his internal chaos and serendipity. 

Who knew one woman would be able to decimate the very thing he fabricated since his youth. 

After a few revelations, I became determined to release Spencer of the abhorrent thoughts his mind must of been swarmed in. Messing with bureau’s network, I connected to speakers that were planted in the bullpen that were utilized for broadcasts. 

I leaned over Penelope’s set up, grabbing the mic she hid behind her monitors and connected it wirelessly to the speaker. This ended up emitting a loud echo of feedback that resonated throughout the office, hence catching Spencer’s attention to the ceiling. He looked bewildered at the sudden blare, but settled down as the sound of my voice flooded the room. 

“Dr. Spencer Reid, please report to your nearest tech analyst. Again, Dr. Spencer Reid please report to your tech analyst” I announced, earning a wholesome smile from Spencer as he directed his attention to the office. He waved at me through the open door, chuckling while he stood up to press the wrinkles that had formed on his blazer. 

My heart swelled, growing exponentially vast as his demeanor changed to a more merry disposition. I could already feel the apprehensive twinges begin to appear at my wrists and the ever-growing grin plant itself on my lips. 

Once he arrived at the door frame, he let out an inaudible welcome as I grabbed an extra office chair for him to sit on.

“Long day?” I inquired, reclaiming my spot in my own chair. He leaned back on the spine of the seat, letting out a reluctant chuckle that held more gravity than he wanted to reveal. 

“You have no idea” He replied with a frigid smile. He fidgeted with the tips of his fingers while he gazed at the floor below him. 

“I was 14″ I stated, earning an inquisitive reaction from Spencer. “I was 14 when I decided to reject any form of aid, affection, or remorse from anyone who even came close to knowing me” I admitted, watching his face contort into vulnerability as if my words hit a weak spot in his barricade. “I told myself of the cold reality of the world and that no amount of consolation or love would change that”. I pulled my seat closer to Spencer, making our interaction a bit more intimate and fervent. “That wasn’t until I met you-” I confessed, now acquiring his full undivided regard. “-an-and the team. You guys proved me wrong and convinced me otherwise of my radical theories” I continued. 

I searched for empathy in his eyes, but was met with a distant and doleful gaze while he sucked in his lips as it began to quiver. He took in a sharp breath, maintaining a adamant composure. 

“Spencer, I know it’s been difficult and I’m sorry I can never understand the hardships you must be going through. But, I need you to realize that there are so many people who consider you one of the best parts of their lives” I professed, laying a tender palm on his knee. “That’s including me, you’ve been nothing but the best little genius I’ve had the privilege to be around, even with your constant rambling”. We both laughed at this statement, meeting each other’s gazes as if we were studying each other. “You need to let us in once and while. I don’t like seeing you get down on yourself for things that are normal to feel”

Spencer laid a warm hand on top of my own, squeezing it in acknowledgment before laying his head low once again. “I-i don’t think” He began, pausing in between his phrases to find the right words to articulate. “I don’t think I can ever find true love” He confided, running his fingers through the tangled bits of hair. “After Maeve, Cat, and now my mom, it seems like everything I ever try to love gets ripped out of my hands” He explained. 

With an idea in mind, I scooted away from him and to the computer that was still connected to the bureau’s sound system. I logged onto my Spotify account and began to play Dandelions by Ruth B. The mellow melody streamed throughout the entire room, engulfing the both of us in the beginning verse of the song. 

Maybe it's the way you say my name Maybe it's the way you play your game But it's so good, I've never known anybody like you But it's so good, I've never dreamed of nobody like you

“How about I get your mind off of it for a little while?” I offered, laying my hand out for him to grab. 

“No, no Y/N. I’m not much of a dancer” He dismissed, shaking his head. 

“Come on now doctor” I giggled, pulling at his fingers to join me. “You may not have a PhD in dance, but I’m pretty sure you can calculate the terminal velocity of how you drop that ass” I joked, intertwining our hands as he finally conceded to my antics. 

“Oh god Y/N, I’ll dance with you if you never say that again” He placed a supple hand on the indents of my waist while he centered his feet to match mine. 

After configuring himself, he looked down at me, really emphasizing the height difference between us. “Now was that so bad?” I teased, a toothy grin making it’s appearance on my face. The warmth that was radiating from the both of us made the small gesture more visceral, sending an irrefutable sensation of yearning throughout my entire body. 

Hopefully, it elicited the same feeling for him 

He took the lead, swaying us side to side while the chorus of the song saturated our eardrums, repositioning his hand to the small of my back. He exhaled a cumbersome sigh, lulling himself into my embrace.

Cause I'm in a field of dandelions Wishing on every one that you'll be mine, mine And I see forever in your eyes I feel okay when I see you smile, smile

I felt every tap, fidget, or movement Spencer made on the soft skin of my spine to match the rhythm of the melody. My head found asylum in the crevice of his shoulder, letting my hair fall into place as we slow danced. At this moment, I felt reality shift around me at a turtle’s pace, time seemed to have completely marooned, and all I could fixate on was the shallow breaths Spencer would take. 

“Thank you...Y/N, it really does mean a lot” Spencer attested, making me raise my head to meet his hazel eyes. Looking into them was like swimming in a pool of milk and honey while the sunshine eradicated all the bad in the world. “I know I’m not one open up about things like this, but you’re right and you reminded me of that, so thank you” He placed a loving kiss on my forehead, lingering momentarily before retracting. 

“Spencer?” I spoke up

“Yes?”

“I know that you think that love may not be possible for you, but you’re forgetting that Rossi looks at you as if you were his own son, JJ basically thinks of you as her own brother, and I love you too”. I pushed a stray curl that fell in front of him face, caressing his cheek in the process of placing the hair back to where it belongs. “Just like energy, love can’t be destroyed, just transformed” I quoted, settling my hands behind his neck. 

“And you?” 

I hummed in inquisitiveness.

“What do you consider me as?”

I furrowed my eyebrows, beckoning him to continue as I was unable to fully comprehend what he was getting at. 

“You said Rossi thought of me as a son, JJ as a brother. So what do you consider me as?” He pressed, pulling me closer to his chest. 

I could practically feel his breath fanning over my face while a tinted blush blossomed on the apple of my cheeks. “I think that’s another conversation for another dance. Don’t you think?” I suggested in attempt to stray away from his prying. 

“So you’re going to pull me into another dance?” He grinned. 

“Possibly, if you’re up for it of course”

He shook his head chuckling, gently pushing me out, twirling me as he did before letting me rest on his chest. Silence drowned out the room as the song finally came to an end, yet we still stood in each other’s embrace to prolong the occasion 

“Spence, I know that you need time. But just know when you are ready, that I’ll be here for you” I confessed, looking directly in his eyes. 

“I’ll be here ready to love you whenever you’re ready to love yourself first”

I'm in a field of dandelions Wishing on every one that you'll be mine, mine

[hxneyandespressx]

since we’re alone, you can show me your heart

summary: what happens when derek gets a nightmare? the only one who can calm him down is his pretty boy

pairing: spencer reid x derek morgan (moreid)

word count:  1.9k

content warnings: mentions of gun and shooting

a/n: set after criminal minds season 11 episode 11 entropy

☆。*。☆。

Spencer ran frantically around his dark and messy apartment, picking up the case files and Chinese takeout boxes that had piled up on his antique coffee table. Few peanut oil stains stuck onto the wooden top. The anxious man took the nearest napkin, hoping that it was clean, and tried his best to wipe off the oil stains. Seeing that they wouldn’t come off, Spencer exasperatedly dropped the napkin onto the table and rushed over to his kitchen, grabbing the necessary cleaning supplies. He got his bottle of white vinegar and water, a pair of yellow rubber gloves, and an old rag underneath the kitchen sink.

By the time Spencer was done, every room in his apartment was clean to his standard. Not a book out of place, no dust lingering in the air. Spencer felt both scared and excited about having his co-workers come over to his place. He never had them over until today. He felt scared if a game, like truth or dare, made him confess his true feelings about his boyfriend.

Derek and Spencer had worked with each other for a long time. As the years went by, experiencing the highs and lows of being FBI agents together, the two of them felt their hearts yearn for each other, but neither of them acted upon it. They were scared of the possibility of rejection, tarnishing their friendship. It was not until Derek decided to break the ice and asked out Spencer. The young man was delighted to have his crush ask him out. It was the one thing that went right in his life.

Three months in and either of them hasn’t said “I love you” yet. Either of them was scared to frighten off the other. Saying “I love you” was a big commitment. They were trying to take things slow, not to rush each other, even though they had known each other for a long time.

The gang was heading over to Spencer’s for a little sleepover to relax as they hadn’t received any new cases within the past 2 weeks. It was nice to have a break from all the traveling and dealing with unsubs; however, it does get boring doing paperwork and in-office consultations for hours.

Spencer’s phone pinged multiple times and a bunch of text notifications came.

Hotch: Sorry, can’t make it. I couldn’t find a babysitter for Jack and Jessica is busy at work tonight. Maybe next time.

Tara: going out on the town with the ladies!

Penelope: sorry spencer but jj tara and i are having a ladies night :(

JJ: sorry spence! perhaps next time!

Rossi: Sorry kid. Forgot to tell you that I’m driving up to Montauk to visit a buddy of mine.

Spencer sighed and felt defeated. Everyone bailed on him at the last minute. Everyone except for Derek. That was fine with Spencer, as this could be a date night for them. Just then, the doorbell rang, indicating someone had arrived. Having a small smile on his face, Spencer scurried to the front door and opened it. It revealed one handsome Derek Morgan, who was holding a large pizza in one hand and a small bouquet of flowers in the other.

“I saw in the group chat that everyone else bailed on this.” Derek said.

“Yeah but this could be a date night for us.” Spencer smiled at his little proposition. Derek smiled, showing off his brilliant pearly whites, as he entered the apartment.

The couple spent their night-in watching movies, eating pizza, and Spencer going off tangents on his passions. Whenever Spencer starts to rant about one of his passions, Derek just stared at his little genius and smiled at how happy his boyfriend was. And that continued all night long, Derek listening to Spencer talk about 19th-century British literature, coupled with watching random movies of various genres.

Nearing 1 am, the couple laid on the couch, with Spencer in Derek’s arms. The tv was playing Julie & Julia in the background. Spencer was half asleep and noticed that Derek was sleeping already. He gently wiggled out of Derek’s arms and stood up from the couch, scratching his scalp and messing up his already messy curly hair.

“Hey. Let’s go to bed.” Spencer softly said, patting his boyfriend’s shoulder. Derek woke up, feeling groggy. Spencer led the way to his room, holding Derek’s hand. They both flopped onto the bed and Derek wrapped an arm around Spencer’s waist. They were used to sharing a room together, even a bed due to mistakes occurring at the hotels they stayed at when they were on cases. Sleep washed over them as the golden dust of the Sandman worked its magic.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Standing across from Derek were Spencer and Cat Adams. The hitwoman had a gun pointed at one scared Spencer Reid. Internally, Derek was screaming. On the outside, he kept his cool and calm composure.

“Morgan, get out.” Spencer demanded.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Derek said, his voice shaking a little.

“Hm… I guess we’re back where we started. You and me with a gun.” Cat said without a care in the world, keeping the gun aimed at Spencer.

“Reid, it’s time.”

“No.”

“We don’t have a choice. We have to do it,” Derek said. Spencer kept shaking his head no. “We found your father.” the unsub stood there in shock for a few seconds, before rage set inside of her.

“You’re lying. I don’t like men who lie. You men are all the same.” Cat said as she gauged the trigger on her gun. She shot Spencer in the head and without hesitation, Derek started to shoot at the unsub. Derek ran over to Spencer and held his dying love in his arms. He tried to keep him alive until the paramedics came. The last words Derek said was “I love you” before his boy wonder went limp.

Derek woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. He heard himself breathing heavily and felt anxious from the nightmare he just had. The frightened man groggily rubbed his eyes to get rid of the Sandman’s dust. Leaning his back against the headboard, Derek stared at the wall across from him, concentrating his eyes on one spot. He hoped that this technique would help him fall back asleep. Alas, he was shaken up from the nightmare.

The dazed man anxiously searched for his phone, wondering how much time has passed. Fumbling through the grey sheets and trying not to wake up Spencer, Derek found his phone, turning on the touchscreen, the blue screen lit up brightly. 3:20 am. Derek took a deep breath and sighed, leaning his head back onto the headboard and looked over to see his baby-faced boyfriend fast asleep. A soft smile appeared on Derek’s face, reminding him of his reality: Spencer being his angel.

Feeling restless, Derek pushed the comforter off of himself and quietly got off of the bed. He opened the bedroom door and went to the bathroom that was down the hall. His hands turned on the faucet and cupped together to gather the running water. Derek splashed cold water onto his face, making him more alert and awake. His eyes caught the sight of his face in the mirror. Smile lines decorated his face, which contrasted the dark circles forming underneath his eyes. Derek sighed and made his way towards the kitchen.

Derek has come over to Spencer’s place many times before, so much so he knows the way around like the back of his hand. With ease, his muscular hand grabbed a tall glass, with an accompanying coaster, in one of the cabinets above. He filled the glass with water from the faucet below. Loud gulps could be heard as Derek drank the water, cool and fresh like he had found an oasis. Just as Derek gently placed the glass on the coaster, his ears caught the shuffling feet of a tired Spencer.

“Derek?” Spencer tiredly said. “What are you doing up?”

“Just needed some water, that is all.” Derek said his half truth-half lie. The young man shrugged and went towards the refrigerator.

Unknowingly, Derek started to tap his fingers against the dark grey laminate countertop. Spencer caught the sound with his ears and turned to face his boyfriend.

“Derek? Are you okay?”

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“Because you’re tapping your fingers across the countertop.” Spencer pointed out. When the tired genius mentioned the action, Derek immediately stopped, his eyes glancing at Spencer.

“We’re profilers, Derek. You can’t hide anything from me.” Spencer said, feeling concerned for his best friend. The mousy-haired man felt like a hypocrite after saying that to Derek. During the many years he worked with the handsome man in front of him, Spencer developed a crush on him. At first, it was just a silly little infatuation, but as time passed, it changed to being a crush. The young man was able to hide it well. That was until Derek reciprocated his feelings. That same crush turned into Spencer dating Derek. In these past few months, Spencer wanted to tell his angel of a boyfriend that he loved him, but he was scared that Derek would run away from him, just like everyone else in his life.

“Ha– you’re right, pretty Ricky,” Derek said in defeat, hanging his head low. Spencer came up behind Derek slowly, hesitant to show some affection to his probably scared boyfriend. He mustered up his own fears and gave Derek a hug from behind, and felt his boyfriend relaxing in his arms. The couple stood in silence for some time, savoring the unspoken quietness between them.

“Remember when you had to go in as bait for Cat Adams?” Derek asked, breaking the silence.

“Oh– yeah. Why are you asking?” Spencer responded, not getting the hint where the conversation was going.

“Two weeks since that case, I had these nightmares. I thought I could get through with it, but I can’t. My nightmare was about that. I dreamt that you were shot by Cat.” Derek explained.

“Derek…” Spencer felt shocked while his heart was breaking. He felt like he had to do something. But all he could do was sit and listen to his boyfriend get everything off his chest.

"I wish this is a nightmare that I could just wake up from... but it feels all real... and I hate every second of it. I felt like I was going to lose you when it actually happened,” Derek’s voice cracked a bit as tears pricked his deep brown eyes. “And I don’t want this to repeat. I wouldn’t forgive myself.”

“I won’t let it happen again,” Spencer quietly said, caresses Derek’s cheek. “We will make sure she stays in prison, alright?” Derek brought Spencer in for a long embrace. The mousy-haired man wrapped his arms around his athletic boyfriend’s waist as he placed his head in the crook of Derek’s neck. The soft warmth coming off of Derek comforted Spencer, clashing with her cold pale skin.

“I just uh…” Derek said tiredly.

“Yeah.” Spencer replied, smiling softly. He knew in his heart that Derek said “I love you” to him.

“You know?”

“I know.”

taglist: @homosexualyearning / @ssajelle / @iconicc / @sunlightgalaxy / @pumpkin-stars / @hotchgans / @pen3mily / @hotchsbabygirl / @gravelyhumerus / @morcias / @notsosmexy / @cherrychris​ / @hqtchner / @girlbossjareau / @pagetsimp / @a-writers-ramblings / @morceid

[definitelynotkatesblog]

Gone ∣ Spencer Reid Fic

Summary: Spencer gets a little jealous at a party and pulls Reader aside to sort some things out.

A/N: I’ve loved Spencer since Day 1 but something about PP Spencer just does something to me. 

@ongoingcrisismsc​ requested a possessive Post Prison Spencer and uuuh, I might have gotten a little carried away! But really can you blame me?

And thank you to @imagining-in-the-margins for being my beta! ❤️

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Category: Smut

Warnings: Cursing, Unprotected sex/creampie, Oral (Male and Female Receiving), Fingering

Word Count: 2.5k

Spencer’s welcome home party, which thanks to Spencer’s introverted tendencies was cleverly disguised as a “Rossi sold another ten thousand copies of his book” party was in full swing.

We were all excited for him to be home and to just be around him again. He was different, though.

Where he’d usually be spitting facts into conversations, he just nodded and smiled instead. If someone walked up behind him, he was quick to position himself with his back to a wall and do a survey of the room to make note of everyone’s locations. When the glasses clinked together on the toast, he winced.

I suppose it took a lot for him to be here, but at least he came and seemed content to be surrounded by people who loved him. He chatted with everyone politely and kept a hand on the small of my back for the majority of the night.

A few hours in he started to relax a bit and we drifted apart to make conversation with the others. I sat at the bar with Derek, talking about renovations he was doing on his newest home and how I was dreaming of adding a bay window as a reading nook. A glance around the room told me Spencer was with Penelope who was chattering away, but his eyes were watching me intently.

Derek made a joke about the construction drowning out other sounds, which made me chuckle and double over, catching myself against his arm. When I straightened up, I saw Spencer come into my peripherals and tried to catch my breath so that I could share Derek’s one-liner with him.

“You need to come with me right now,” he said through his teeth.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up at his tone, which let the rest of my body know there was no time for hesitation. My brows knit together as I placed my drink down on the bar and shot Morgan a confused look. He shook his head and put his palms up, not willing to get involved.

I started to ask him what was wrong, but his hand formed a vise grip on my upper arm, effectively silencing me. I let out a soft yelp as he dragged me along, forcing my legs to make quick steps to match his longer strides. I tried pulling my arm from away, but it  just made his grip tighter.

He kept his voice low, “Is this what you were doing while I was gone? Hm? Flirting?”

Gone. He always said gone. Never ‘arrested,’ ‘in prison,’ or ‘in jail.’ Just: gone. Like he was away on a business trip or grocery shopping.

Flirting? What in the fresh hell?

“W-what? I was just talking to Derek!”

My attempt at reasoning with him fell on obstinate ears. He pulled me through a door down a dimly lit hallway, tossing me into the room and closing the door behind him quietly. My eyes tried to search the room in the dark, but I couldn’t make out any distinguishing shapes. Before I could feel for a light switch, Spencer grabbed a fistful of my hair and walked us backwards, guiding me by the nape of my neck with our middles pressed together until the back of my legs hit something cool and hard. He reached slightly behind me and turned on a small lamp by our side, causing a small pool of light to form in the room.

Books covered the walls, velvet arm chairs and a leather chaise offered cozy places to wrap up with a piece of literature from the shelves. Rossi’s library. Spencer had told me about how impressive his collection was – he’d laughed about how if he was as rich as Rossi, he’d have all the first editions in his library, too.

The light bouncing off his face cast shadows that illuminated the sharp edges of his jaw and dark hollows under his eyes. When he raked his bottom lip through his teeth, the light bounced off the wetness and left a slight glow on the soft skin. He was a vision.

The hand at the base of my neck pulled my face closer to his and our lips crashed together. I kissed him breathlessly, still trying to figure what came over him, why we were in here – though I was not complaining – and how the hell he thought I would ever flirt with Derek Morgan.

My hands flew to his arms, pulling him closer to me in an attempt to deepen the kiss.

He tore my face away from his and took a step back, leaving me standing against the desk trying to catch my breath. I reached out for him, but his hands made busy unbuckling his belt and pants, his eyes not leaving mine.

“On your knees,” he instructed.

I nodded, immediately dropping to my knees and inching towards him.

Once he freed himself from the restriction of his underwear, he pumped a fist over his cock once, twice before tapping the tip on my waiting tongue.

A soft sigh left his lips as I closed my lips around his cock and swirled my tongue over his head. I wrapped my hand around him at the base and used it to spread the wetness, creating more in my mouth before sitting up higher on my knees, meeting his eyes and letting the pooling saliva drip from my mouth onto his length in my hand.

Pumping his cock in my fist, I varied the pressure of my squeezes from top to bottom, then dragged my tongue slowly from his base upwards, wrapping my lips around his tip before slowly bringing him to the back of my throat. I gagged for a moment, relishing the sound of Spencer struggling to keep his composure. With that, I could feel the heat of my own pleasure forming between my legs.

I swallowed around him in my throat. His hips jerked forward, causing tears to sting the back of my eyes.

Using what little space was between the back of my head and the desk, I pulled back, swirling my tongue, twisting my fist, and bobbing my head in a circular motion around him.

What sounded like a growl left his throat and his hands flew to grip the edge of the desk behind me, caging my head between his hands. I glanced up and saw him staring down at me like I was something to eat.

Before I could bring my other hand up to assist, Spence reached down and grabbed my chin, coaxing me to a standing position before laying a heated, sloppy kiss on my lips.

But again, before I could lock my fingers in his hair to pull him deeper to me, he pulled away.

I opened my mouth to protest, but Spencer had reached down to grip the back of my thighs and pulled me up onto the desk behind me. He worked himself to stand between my thighs, sliding his hands over my shoulders up to cup my face, where he ran his thumbs across my lips to smear the extra saliva over my cheeks. One finger slipped into my mouth, and my cheeks instinctively hollowed around it. He graced me with a half smile before using the hand on my face to push me backwards into a lying position on the desk. His thumb left my mouth with a soft pop.

I propped myself up onto my elbows to watch him. His hands ran down my front, then pushed the edge of my dress up to expose my heated core to the cool air of the room. His thumbs hooked into the fabric resting on my hips and pulled it off in a swift motion, letting them land somewhere in the room.

Spencer just stood there for a moment and cocked his head to the side, taking in the sight of me laid out for him. I blushed for a moment, realizing I was spread open on a very respected man’s desk with drool on my chin from gagging on Spencer’s dick, and I was probably about to be punish-fucked for flirting with someone that I actually hadn’t been flirting with.

I was pulled from the spiralling thoughts when Spencer dropped from my line of sight. I pushed myself up further trying to find him. In a swift movement, hands pushed my knees further apart and pulled me forward so my ass was on the edge of the desk. Before I could object, his tongue laid a long, flat trail up my center, causing my head to fall back against the desk.

The cool wood against my shoulder blades mixed with the expert ministrations of his mouth made my back arch, forcing a gasp from my lungs.

“Quiet,” he mumbled against me.

I focused on trying to control my breathing and moans, pursing my lips together and praying I was actually as quiet as I was trying to be.

Spencer had been quiet and more reserved since he’d been home. I didn’t want to pry or force him to talk about anything until he wanted to. And yet, everything he hadn’t said was on the tip of his tongue, writing a novel in long licks and broad, wet laps against my sex.

My cries were met with content hums against meas he buried his tongue deeper.

He continued, alternating quick licks with lazy ones, using his chin to tease between my folds, and bringing a finger up to start gently fucking me and exploring the wetness he’d created.

He added another finger and sucked gently over my clit, coaxing my orgasm from where it had been slowly brewing. Within moments, the wave of bliss crashed over me and spread all over my body like wildfire over a dry savannah.

His name danced with moans in my mouth, leaving my lips as unintelligible cries. As I shivered and came down to my body again, he stood and pumped a fist over his still hard cock and positioned himself at my entrance.

I lifted my head to look at his face, to gauge where the hell his head was at that moment but saw him preoccupied, watching himself enter me. He started at an agonizing pace, slowly stretching and sinking into me before finding a delicious pace. He would pull his hips away, almost removing himself completely before filling me again.

The sounds of his thighs hitting my ass, our mangled breathing, and whatever was rattling around in the drawers below us filled the room. His pace quickened, replacing the long, languid movements with more urgent thrusts. The sudden change in pace elicited a moan from deep in my chest.

His thumb started drawing torturous circles into my clit as he watched me squirm, a thoughtful look painted on his features.

“Oh, my god. Oh fuck, Spence!” My hands gripped the edge of the desk by my thighs in an attempt to keep myself from sliding across the desk.

“Hmmm? Did you think of someone else fucking this tight little pussy while I was gone?” he hissed. His hips began to piston forward, creating a delicious punishment for my alleged flirtatious crimes. Sobs escaped by chest as he continued, grinding the words out between thrusts.

I knew what he was asking. What he wanted to know. Suddenly his reaction to me talking to Morgan made more sense.

I wanted to tell him that I was only ever his, that I couldn’t ever imagine giving myself to anybody else. I wanted to grab his face and yell that he was the only man that could make me lose myself in him.

And truthfully, I couldn’t even bring myself to feel that way with him being gone. Seeing him behind the plexiglass in that jumpsuit with his hair longer and stubble growing was fucking attractive as all hell but... it didn’t make me want to fuck anybody else. Surely he knew that?

But on account of him pounding into me so hard my eyeballs were shaking, all I could muster up the breath support to say was, “N-no, only you, onl-“ before my core seized and shook, the waves of pleasure racking my body. My walls clenched around him like a fist, holding him in place.

He threw his head back on a moan, pulling my hips further down onto him, his own release not far behind mine. One final thrust had him bottomed out, emptying himself inside of me.

Our heavy breaths mingled as he fell forward, catching himself on his forearms above me so our chests were barely touching. He looked into my eyes for a moment before burying his face into my neck, his sweaty curls sticking to my jaw.

We laid there for a moment before he peeled off of me and started redressing himself. He pulled a handkerchief from his chest pocket and cleaned me in silence. I pulled myself up and started searching the dimly lit floor for my panties. I couldn’t find them for the life of me and I’d be damned if one of Rossi’s maids was the one to find my soaked lace fucking panties strewn across the room.

I didn’t have to look much further when I saw them dangling off of Spencer’s index finger. I lifted my eyes slowly to meet his expectant gaze. When I reached forward to grab them, he moved his hand away, clutching them in his fist.

“I think I’ll actually hold on to these,” he said, stuffing them in his breast pocket.

My eyes almost popped out of my god damned head and rolled across the floor. “Wh-I-Spenc-“ I gaped, refusing to believe he was going to make me interact with a party full of coworkers with no fucking panties on.

“Now you’re gonna go back out there and behave yourself.”

I stood still and squinted at him, waiting for a “just kidding”, but one did not come. I cleared my throat and squared my shoulders before exiting the room, making a beeline for the bar to get another drink. My throat was a little sore and I needed something to take the edge off the nerves.

Derek took a sip from his drink and locked eyes with me over the lip of his glass. I blushed and averted my gaze. Surely there was no way he knew what Spencer and I had just done. I took a sip from my own drink to hide the heat rising in my cheeks.

“Not even a demo team could have covered the sounds coming from that room, girl.”

Derek laughed as I choked on my drink, and let out a full bellied laugh as Spencer joined us.  He snaked a hand around my waist, grabbing a cheeky handful before resting on my hip.

His foot rested on the metal railing that skirted the bottom of the bar, creatively positioning himself against my backside.

Without the extra layer of fabric between my dress and my ass, coupled with the cool draft, the heat from his hand and slight bulge in his pants scorched my skin.

Spencer raised his eyebrows at Derek and smiled knowingly, bringing the edge of the glass to his lips.

The perfectly-timed choral laughter from the other room felt like it could be for us, but I couldn’t be sure. I took another sip from my glass and tried to ignore the drumming of Spencer’s fingers against my hip.

——

Tell me all the things!

[sapphiics]

Didn’t we almost have it

a/n: I heavily suggest listening to Dammit by Jana Kramer while reading this, it is where I got the entire plot from.

dt: to my dear @morcias because who else just loves morcia so much. plus I asked her a million questions to help me figure out details for this.

word count: 3k

content warning: it’s angsty(?) and quite sad but with a very happy ending.

-----

God did Penelope hate driving through Illinois.

The only reason she was coming back was for the bridal shower of a girlfriend from college, otherwise she would’ve stayed in California, where she was at least a good thousand miles away from this place.

All it did was make her nostalgic, almost painfully so. The entire state serving as a physical reminder of her old life. One she had not a chance in hell of getting back.

The urge to race her car to the nearest ‘Leaving Illinois’ sign coming over her yet again, Penelope makes a right turn onto Commonwealth avenue. Christina’s house was only five minutes from where she was.

It was the walkway that first drew her eye. A stone path, small flowers lining it. She could almost hear his heavy footsteps getting louder as he jogs to greet her, meeting Penelope in the middle with a chaste kiss as she hauls grocery bags under her arms, enough food for four. 

As she nears closer, her eyes travel up the length of the two-story building, it’s utter perfectness painfully pressing into her like a stab to the gut. It took every ounce of restraint that she possessed not to slam the brakes and just gawk at the vision in front of her.

That was the house.

The dream house. The one the two of them fantasized about back in college. Penelope can practically see the late nights they spent in her dorm, cramped together on her twin bed, their fingers intertwined. His free hand running over her head, pushing her hair back behind her ear and tilting her into his shoulder. Hushed planning of their happily ever after. She can hear his voice whispering in her ear, about how they would have two perfect daughters. He would be a FBI agent, and she would work for a nonprofit organization. He’d cook, she’d clean, he would take care of the lawn, she’d do the laundry.

That was the plan. Their own special, simple, linear plan.

Until real life happened, essentially taking those plans and throwing it off a cliff. That’s all it was now, a pretty daydream to keep Penelope from having to accept the fact that nothing in her life is going like she hoped, and she’s probably going to end up alone.

None of that stopped her from turning into the lot of the house, the door slightly cracked open. A large ‘For Sale’ sign hung on it. 

Giving her the perfect opportunity to see what she could’ve had. To spend a few fleeting moments dreaming of the life she would’ve had with him.

Finally found that dream house, and yet the dream guy was long gone.

Her hands shakier than she would’ve liked, Penelope slowly steps out of her car, the two story home everything she ever envisioned.

The path up to the house was lined with daffodils, she could see as she passed them. The front door was a smooth dark brown. Solid wood, contrasting with the otherwise creme exterior of the house.

That would’ve been his touch. He always liked that building and renovating stuff, she could almost hear him begging her to let him remodel the place. To really ‘make it their home.’

The entrance didn’t nothing to deter her, the arching ceilings and oak floors straight out of her most vivid dreams. The arches reminded her of college. Charles Deering Memorial Library, to be specific. She had always liked the gothic architecture, and even he could admit that the towering building’s medieval influence was well executed. And that chill day in March, the ninth, to be exact, when they first met. She was working there part-time, and he needed something from the football archives.

It was his smile that drew her in, his eyes drawn up real small as he flashed her two rows of perfect teeth. 

What she would give for one of those smiles right about now.

An embarrassingly loud gasp left her mouth as she walked in further. Ahead of her were a pair of large black couches, perpendicular to each other. A grand fireplace in front of them, an open space perfect for a nice big flat screen.

Hockey. That’s what would be playing. He was huge on the sport, and her mind drifted to an image of the two of them sitting on the couch. Him in a worn out jersey and his lucky socks, her in his beat leather jacket, feet propped up in his lap. She has headphones and her knitting, he has a beer she steals sips of and has a loose grip on her ankle, his fingers pressing against the small tattoo she got the day she turned eighteen. Just like old times.

Without even glimpsing at the side door that led to the kitchen, Penelope could already visualize him sitting on the counter. A soft white tee and some sweatpants, strumming on her ukulele and singing some old 90s ballad off key while she chopped vegetables. Later that night, after their girls went to bed, the two of them dancing together to her parents’ old record player. An old Bee Gees song softly in the background as they sway.

Her mind racing, she’s already thinking of summer barbecues. Her and JJ drinking margaritas in the shade, their children’s laughter bringing a grin to her face. Him talking it up with Rossi about god knows what as he mans the grill. The sun setting as he takes a seat next to her, tugging her into his side and placing a small kiss on the side of her head.

The overwhelming realization that Penelope is never going to get that future, never going to have the future she so desperately wanted with him, hit her harder than ever in that moment.

And next thing she knows she can feel tears running down her cheeks. Alone, in the middle of an open house in the one state, the one city she vowed to never return to, and she’s sobbing like a baby.

“Well Hello Miss!” ,a kind old woman steps out, shocking Penelope back to reality, “You here for the house?”

 “Yes,“ she says softly, hastily wiping at her face,  “Yes I am. Just a quick look around.” Her hands swipe at her dress, trying to regain even a semblance of composure, “You have a beautiful home.”

The woman casts her a sympathetic smile,

“Thank you. Me and Sarah have lived here for over forty years. We raised our five children in these very walls,” the lady beams, a smile coming over her face as she looks around the room, 

“We figured that with them all gone and us not getting any younger, we could downsize just a bit.”

Penelope let out a polite laugh, but stayed silent otherwise.

“You stay for as long as you like! My name’s Carolyn by the way. Let me know if you need anything!”

“Penelope, and thank you,” she smiles at her, Carolyn returning to the back of the house.

Penelope’s eyes catch onto the grand staircase, passing over the perfect crème walls and carpet flooring.

Her feet moved towards it, the view before her so accurate to her vision that it was like somebody reached into her brain and pulled out the design themselves. She needed to have this place.

Right before she can take a step on the stairs, she sees Carolyn return, a dimmed smile on her face.

“I’d like to buy the house,” Penelope states confidently. She couldn’t possibly leave here without having it.

It didn’t matter that she lived across the country, with decent enough friends and a steady job. This was the house, and if she had the chance to get at least one part of the dream, she damn sure was going to take the opportunity.

Carolyn winces, a regretful look on her face. “I’m so sorry Penelope, we just had somebody place an offer for it.”

“Oh,” Penelope’s eyes widen slightly, and she can feel the tears pushing their way to the surface. For just a second, she let herself get entranced by the home, and it hurt more than she was willing to admit that she couldn’t have it.

“Are you looking for a similar house ? There’s one just in Fullerton Road, and I believe it is on sale.”

“No I… I just got caught up,” Penelope waves her hand around the side of her head, her cheeks turning red, “It’s okay, an amazing family deserves this home.”

“Actually, the young man who purchased the place is with Sarah in the back right now. He’s already thinking of renovating the place.”

“Sounds great,” Penelope mused, wanting to be anywhere but here. At least a loving family is getting this house. She just hoped they were as happy as she once imagined she would be.

“Here they are,“  Carolyn announces, adding to Penelope’s discomfort. She had to leave, and fast. The last thing she wanted to see was the happy husband who bought this place to catch her, essentially a random stranger, crying in his kitchen.

“Is your family nearby? Why didn’t they come?” A woman, Penelope could only assume was Sarah, Carolyn’s wife, was talking to the new owner of the house. Penelope stiffened, the awkwardness of the situation palpable.

A deep laugh comes from the other person, and she could hear the two people approaching. “Nope, I’m a single man.”

“What the hell did you need such a big house for then?” Sarah quips.

“Just,” the guy takes a resigned breath, “Just wishful thinking I guess.“

Penelope could hear her heartbeats, the sound thrumming loudly in her ears. She shut her eyes, squeezing them to the point of something akin to pain. This couldn’t be happening. This could just be a terrible dream, and when she opened them, she would be waking up in her apartment. Back home, where she was away from her old life here. Safely away from the love of her life, whose voice she just heard for the first time in five years.

“Sarah, this is Penelope. She just stopped by to look at the house.”

Penelope reluctantly turns, peeling her eyes open. To her disappointment, she was still standing in the swept sold house. Still back in her college town.

Still right in front of her ex-fiancé, one she’s just as irrevocably in love with as she was the day he proposed.

“Derek,” she lets out quietly, drinking in everything about him. He’s only gotten better-looking, and Penelope has always been attracted to him.

It was his face, his eyes to be specific, that captured her in this moment.

Because instead of the resentment and anger she had expected, she had deserved, all that was there was a small shimmer of hope. A sliver of hope that she almost cried tears of relief at seeing. Hope she had given up on ever having until she saw it in his face. The same look reflected in her own eyes.

“Penelope.” 

His voice usually stern, she can hear the small waver in his tone. Like he’s just as affected by her as she is him.

Even after all these years, she can’t help but melt when it comes to Derek. It was like her innermost self just knew him, recognized that he, no matter how far apart they were, was always going to have a part of her heart. A power over her that she would never give to any other person.

Yet looking into Derek’s eyes, the only man to ever capture her heart, Penelope could’ve sworn he was feeling the same way she did.

“So, um, we’ll just leave you two for now,”  Carolyn’s eyes clearly wide as she drags her wife outside of the kitchen, leaving the pair alone together.

Derek walks a couple steps closer to her, the smell of nice cologne wafting to her nose as he moves near.

He opened his mouth, almost as if he were about to start speaking, but Penelope catches his small sigh and the twitch of his hands.

They were so close, closer than they had been in years, yet that short distance felt wider than the thousands of miles she had made sure to have between them for the past half a decade.

The lack of touch. That’s what was halting them.

They were always touching one another. It was an unspoken language, just for the two of them to understand. 

To be so close yet not touching, it felt so inorganic to Penelope, so abnormal.

Penelope looks just a little off to the right of him, his presence too overwhelming. He was examining her, and the quiet was anxious.

“Why didn’t you take the ring?” Derek spits out, his low voice subdued by the hurt she could just hear in his voice. “ I could handle how you left, no note or calls. But you left me your ring Penelope.”

She thought she was prepared for this, the anger he would have for her. But hearing the words in real time, from Derek himself, made her stomach turn. A ball of nausea tossed in her stomach, Derek’s pain something that never failed to physically wound Penelope.

“Derek...,” her heart breaking at how much she affected him.

“Did I,” he pauses, sucking in a shallow breath, “Did we mean that little to you?”

“No.” She locks onto his eyes at that, holding his stare. “You- us, that was everything to me.” A fierceness was in her voice that shocked her, and at the look of his slightly widened stare, she wasn’t the only one. The idea that Derek for a second could fathom the idea that he wasn’t the love of her life, her soulmate, was a stake to the heart.

“Was it marriage? Was it not wanting to be married? Because you could’ve told me.”

Surprising her own self, she moves in a half-step, her hands enclosing one of Derek’s clenched ones. Her fingers act on instinct, sliding through his, rubbing her thumb on the back of his index finger. Five years and his fingers still naturally close around hers .

Her teeth firmly sunk into the flesh on the back of her lip, she peers up at Derek, his expression unreadable. He was always better at the reading people thing, it was like second nature to him.

“I promise you, Derek Morgan, there is nothing I have ever wanted more than to marry you.”

Feeling his hand tighten around hers, glancing up to see his brows pulling together, she pushes on, needing to express to him her every feeling. “ You didn’t deserve what I did, and there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by when I didn’t feel like the luckiest person in the world to have such an amazing guy.”

“ I am so,” words that she’s been practicing for years suddenly getting clogged in her throat, making every word come out like a croak, “ so sorry for ever hurting you.”

Tears burning behind her eyes, nothing stuns her more than when Derek cups her face, his large palm enclosing her cheek as he runs his fingers lightly through her hair. 

“Is it the house?”

Taken aback, Penelope jolts her head upward. “What?”

His hand now on her shoulder, he turns her to the right, giving her a wider view of the home.

“Is it the right house?”

“It’s the perfect house.” Her voice trailing off at the end.

She faces Derek, his lips pressed together like he’s trying not to say something.

“We could- we could still have it.” His eyes looking at their hands, in a way that was so unlike him, Penelope didn’t dare try to assume anything about what his words meant.

“Have what?” her attempt to keep her voice even failing miserably. Averting his stare, her eyes land on his neck, where a thin gold chain rests.

A chain that had something that looked dangerously similar to a ring hidden under his shirt.

He looks to where she’s staring, a bald-faced look on her face, and his fingers pull out the necklace to reveal a gold wedding band. The one she bought for him, with the special engraving on the inside.

Through the tears rapidly coming to her eyes, she could see Derek’s face. And the vulnerability and love that shined from him to her 

Because he kept it. Even in his clear anger and hurt, the heartbreak she put him in, he kept her ring. 

“The plan.” Derek reaches behind his neck, his fingers reaching to the clasp of the necklace. “The big wedding, the two girls,” He slides the ring off of the chain, twirling it round in his hand. “Our dream.” He finally places the ring in her hands, gently closing her fingers around it.

Her mouth falling slightly open, Penelope slowly blinks three times. The words that just came out of his mouth so unbelievable that her brain was taking some time to catch up. She pulls her lip sideways into her mouth, too nervous to say anything.

His hands come up on each side of her face, a tender clasp that lets him turn her head up towards him.

“I never gave up on you, on us.” He lets out a sad laugh, “ Hell, I’m here about to buy a house just to try and get a piece of that dream.”

Penelope bobs her head slightly back, the shock of what’s happening still getting to her. “You really still want it?”

And Derek, bless his sweet soul, just looks at her with a small smile resting on his lips. “There is nothing, absolutely nothing babygirl,” the sound of his old nickname for her better than anything she’s heard the last few years, “that I want more than to be with you for the rest of my life.”

A matching smile coming to her mouth, she brings Derek’s left hand down to her own, and slides the wedding band on to his ring finger.

A soft cry breaks from her lips, and she feels nothing other than pure joy when he leans down, taking her lips in a sweet kiss.

Maybe, just maybe, they can have it after all.

————

taglist: @alexandrablake @lavenderbau @suburban--gothic @altsvu @rem-ariiana @vhsrights @spelleaway @willlemonheadsupremacy @ssaevie @literatekayla @criminalswifts @hotchshoney @moreidsdaughter @reidtheprettyboy

[ahopelessromantic]

31% ➳ S. Reid

Pairing: Spencer x neutral! Reader (if I missed something please tell me!)

Word count: 2,4k

Warnings: Suggestive content, Spencer and reader really have the hots for each other

The nature of your friendship with Reid has been flirtatious from the start. So flirtatious that the team thinks it’s all a joke... right? (A/N: Please don’t ask me what this is. I wrote this in one sitting while suffering from PMS, I don’t even know anymore.)

“Look at that walk.” Morgan chuckled to Emily for everyone but especially you to hear. You rolled your eyes, yet couldn’t help the smug grin on your face. Like girls in high school ready to hear the newest gossip your two colleagues and closest friends leaned over your desk. “You, sweetie, got laid.” You let out a happy sigh and leaned back in your chair. Last time you had been this relaxed had been… god, you couldn’t even remember it.

“What’s their name?” Emily grinned, stealing a sip of coffee from your mug. “And do they have a brother? Sister? Cousin?” You lifted your brow. “A respectable, decent human being like me doesn’t kiss and tell. But it’s a he. And he’s all mine.” Both Morgan and Emily lifted their eyebrows in surprise. “(Y/N)? Getting territorial? We love to see it.” Morgan teased. You squinted at him. “You know what? I loved flaunting my post-coital bliss in front of you, but quite frankly I’m starting to feel attacked now, so I’ll go hang out with Garcia.” Emily feigned a pout. “Come on! At least give us some details!” You just winked at her after getting up from your seat and disappeared down the hallway. On the way to Penelope’s office, you didn’t miss Spencer’s searing hot look on you, a hint of the same smug smile on his lips that had been on yours when you had entered the BAU this morning.

“(Y/N), this is bad. We’re breaking at least three policies just by being here together right now. Also, relationships between colleagues are rarely a good idea.” You chuckled and pressed another kiss to Spencer’s neck. “Then why does it feel so good, Spence? And, actually, workplace hookups are way more common thank you think. About 31% of them even end up in marriage.” “Are you using my own weapons against me right now? That’s hot.” He murmured and pulled you further into his lap. You looked down into his eyes, your gaze dropping to his lips momentarily before wandering back up again. There was just something about him that made you feel like you were on fire, as if an electric current ran between the two of you. You bit your lip and played with his tie. “You have to know how I feel whenever you’re spitting your facts at least once, too.” Your eyes met again, and then your lips were on his.

Spencer and you had gotten along like a house on fire from the day you had joined the BAU. Somehow the two of you had clicked right into place after just a short period of Spencer warming up to you. Before anyone could even tell what was happening you had become the team’s new dynamic duo. Your sharp wit matched his, and what he was too shy to say you spat right out. And that everlasting tension between you had been there from the beginning, too. It had almost cost you your sanity, the way the air in a room would change as soon as Spencer was in it, the way his mere presence made you want to either pounce on him or rip your lashes out. For a while, it had been enough to just bury that attraction where everyone could see it, in plain sight beneath heaps and heaps of slightly inappropriate flirting. Spencer would blurt out how your new heels gave you just the right height to make out with him, you would blurt out how you would like to see him in his glasses and nothing else. Everyone had taken your remarks as jokes, and you had always laughed with them. But there had never been anything funny about the shocks of electricity jolting through your fingers whenever your hands accidentally met or about the warmth seeping through you whenever you slept propped up against each other on the jet. All that tension had unloaded one day after an unusually hard case. Spencer and you had been taken hostage by an Unsub on a psychotic break, and it had only been due to luck and good timing that you had made it out alive. After debriefing, you had found yourself in an abandoned hallway of whatever precinct you had been in, and then your eyes had met. The look in them had been the same. Slightly frazzled, pupils still widened from the adrenaline pumping through your veins. You had both been so high on the incredibleness of still being alive that suddenly, you had decided to just fucking do what your body had been telling you to do for so long already. “I think I’m going to kiss you now.” You had breathed out, barely audible. Spencer had leaned against the wall behind him and lifted his chin as if he had been daring you to do it. “Okay.” He had whispered back. And then your lips had met in what you could swear had been the best kiss of your life. Your hands had tangled themselves in his hair as if they had been supposed to be there all along, and his hands had fit in the groove of your waist as if they had been made for it. Maybe you had both been made for each other.

“It looks like the unsub is citing the karma sutra.” JJ’s gaze wandered over the book excerpts up on the case board. “A sexual sadist maybe?” Spencer shook his head almost excitedly, a familiar gleam in his eyes which he got whenever a case was particularly interesting to him. “See, that’s the interesting part. 80% of the karma sutra is actually just love-related philosophy and how to sustain desire. There is no sexual component to his murders, so I think he might either be trying to throw us off or create some sort of bizarre scavenger hunt.” While chewing on one of the fries Emily had brought you all for dinner you let your eyes wander over the pictures of sex positions and quotations on the board, then to the copy of the book lying right in front of Spencer on the table. “Well, it’s definitely an interesting choice to make for a book. Spence, you’ll keep it memorised for later, right?” You spoke, mostly out of habit. Spencer winked at you in response and Morgan choked on his burger. “There’s people eating here!” He spluttered out, pointing at Hotch, who looked like he wanted to die, and Rossi, who was watching the scene unfold with an amused smile on his face. All he was missing was a bucket of popcorn to match the level of detachment he was displaying. Prentiss just laughed and turned her attention to you. “(Y/N), does your boyfriend know about your workplace flirting buddy?” She knew exactly what she was doing, a mischievous glint in her eyes. You felt your face fall for the split of a second but immediately regained your composure. “Nice try, honey. I’m still not telling you about him. Also, for what it’s worth, he’s not the jealous type. So he doesn’t mind.” You deliberately avoided Spencer’s gaze, praying to whichever deities out there that you weren’t blushing.

Later that evening, back in your apartment, you could tell that something was on Spencer’s mind. He had taken some paperwork home that, under normal circumstances, wouldn’t have taken him longer than an hour. But it had been two and a half hours already, and the subconscious mumbling he only did when he was extremely anxious set you off. “Spence, baby, are you okay?” You had been his roommate for long enough to know that he needed someone to be there in moments like these. The two of you sharing an apartment had been a decision for practicality’s sake more than anything. You had slept over at each other’s apartments half of the time before that anyway, and this way, you were even able to save up some more to hopefully soon buy the house of your dreams. The team probably didn’t even know about the two of you living together, and if they knew, they had probably just added it to the list of weird things Spencer and you did. Spencer hadn’t even heard, and it took you placing your hand on his shoulder for him to return to reality. He looked up at you with a conflicted look, his eyes horribly sad. “Are you alright?” You asked again, sitting down next to him. He nodded and closed the case file he had been working on with a sigh. “I’m okay. I just keep on thinking about what Prentiss said.” You frowned. Emily tended to say a lot of things in just one day. “Back in the conference room. The…” He trailed off to take a deep breath. “The boyfriend thing.” You were still looking at him in confusion. “Am I?” “What?” You asked stupidly. Apparently, your brain had suffered a sudden case of non-functionality. You could feel his frustration get even worse. “Am I your boyfriend, (Y/N)?”, Spencer finally explained for you to catch on. Suddenly, a laugh escaped your lips. “Well, I mean I hope so.” Now it was he who looked like his mind was failing him. “I mean, to be honest, I hadn’t really properly thought about it, but I definitely bragged about my hot, intelligent FBI boyfriend to my friends from high school. So, I guess it would be really nice if you actually were. I mean, I think I haven’t slept in my own bed in weeks.” A smile had spread across Spencer’s face, a light pink hue dusting his cheeks. “I uh… I described you as my partner in the letters to my mom, too. I didn’t know how else to describe it to her. Because I … I guess I was hoping that this wasn’t just us sleeping together from the start. I trust you, (Y/N), more than I’ve ever trusted anyone. And I like having you by my side.” Not able to stop yourself, you closed the distance between the two of you to press your lips to his. Keeping your relationship with Spencer undefined for any longer than that would have been a huge waste of potential.

Somehow, you had always expected that Spencer would one day expose the two of you by taking it too far with your flirting. He hadn’t been all too experienced with dating, sex and everything beyond that before you, that was something he had told you himself once after a few glasses of your favourite red wine. But what you really hadn’t expected was running into Emily in an IKEA, of all places. Ever since once and for all defining your relationship you had moved into his bedroom for good, which left room for creativity in your old room. The two of you had been walking around the furniture store hand in hand, Spencer with a potted plant already under his arm, when you’d suddenly heard Emily calling out your name. If it hadn’t been for Spencer’s hand firmly in yours you would have booked it down the aisle of Malm closets, but this way all you could do was turn around with a deliberately composed expression. “Hi, Em.” You smiled as if you hadn’t just run into your colleague slash best friend while holding the hand of your also colleague, slash boyfriend. Prentiss looked like she was trying to make sense of the situation, her eyes fleeting back and forth between you and Spencer. “Is this something you do now? Hold hands and buy plants together?” You had to suppress a laugh and almost pitied her for her confusion. Spencer was forcing himself not to smile as well, swaying your still intertwined hands back and forth. “It’s not a big deal Emily, we just need some things for our apartment.” Her eyes looked just about ready to pop out of her skull at that. “Your apartment?! (Y/N), what about your boyfriend- oh.” Her eyes widened even more if that was even possible. “OH!” She almost yelled, and now you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips anymore. “No one will ever believe you.” You grinned, pressed a kiss to her cheek and pulled Spencer back to your shopping cart with you.

The next day, Emily sat at her desk with her head in her hands when Spencer and you entered the bullpen. She looked positively traumatised and now you were all the more glad that you had bought her a breakfast muffin on the way to work. “Hey, Em.” You greeted her hesitantly, you tone causing Morgan to look up from his screen. He always immediately knew when something was off. “So, Spencer, huh?” She mumbled instead of a greeting, mustering the two of you up and down. It wasn’t abnormal for the two of you to constantly be glued to each other’s sides, but now she was probably starting to see that from a whole new perspective. You could hear Morgan get up and trip over his chair in his haste to get to Emily’s desk, but your whole focus was on her at that moment. You smiled. “Yup. Don’t ask me how, or why, but I’m sure about him. He’s also just really fucking attractive.” At that, she laughed, and Spencer pouted playfully. “You only like me for my body, (Y/N).” You rolled your eyes and nudged him with your elbow. “I’m trying to make a point here, honey. But yeah, it’s Spence, and I’m happy it’s him.” “You know, I feel like I should probably be more surprised by this, but it’s not really much of a change from the way you behaved already. Kinda saw it coming.”, Morgan finally spoke up, and you couldn’t be more grateful to him for being so cool about the whole situation. “Aren’t you guys worried about the pressure of all of this? You know, workplace romances and everything?” Emily mused. Somehow, she had already switched back into concerned friend mode. But much to your surprise it was Spencer who spoke up and pulled you closer to his side with an arm around your waist. “Someone once told me that workplace romances are actually really common and that 31% of them even end in marriage.” You felt the biggest smile grow on your face and turned to look him in the eyes. “I don’t really know anything, about any of this. But I trust (Y/N), and I trust what we have. I’m just hoping that maybe we’ll be up in those 31%.” You couldn’t help it. You just had to press a kiss to his cheek for that. “I’m hoping for that, too.” You mumbled. Despite Morgan’s and Emily’s theatrical gagging at your public display of affection, you couldn’t help but feel like this was a significant moment. You were really doing this. And boy, were you serious about it.

[sweethugsandhoney]

hanahaki disease pt 3

summary: hanahaki disease- a disease where the victim of unrequited or one sided love begins to vomit or cough up the petals and flowers of a flowering plant growing in their lungs. which will eventually grow large enough to render breathing impossible if left. it ends when the beloved returns their feelings or when the victim dies.

a/n: i decided i’m going to be writing a fourth partt because i write too much lmaooo. lmk your thoughts and thank you so much for the support and comments i’ve been getting!

pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4

“spencer stop!”, my laughter filled the room as spencer’s fingers kept tickling my sides. i mentally cringed at my laugh, trying to close my mouth but failing. spencer’s actions stopped as he hovered over me, “are you going to say yes now?”. i shook my head no with tears in my eyes, spencer’s hands returned to my side. “okay stop stop stop! i’ll watch it!”, i said quickly.

“why are you crying?”, spencer asked concerned, his beautiful eyes staring into mine. i bursted out laughing as i clamped a hand over my mouth, trying to muffle my laugh. “i’m not crying, my eyes are just watery from you tickling me”, i managed out. “hey, don’t hide your smile from me”, he said grinning as he pulled my hand down from my face. his words made my heart burst. i groaned as i sat up from my position on the couch, my sides hurting from the torture they received.

spencer got the remote and put on ‘doctor who’. he put his arm around me as i cuddled into his side. this is wrong, i thought. he just thinks of me as a friend but then he acts like this around me. i felt spencer’s fingers tracing random shapes on my side. my chest tightened and my breath quickened. i felt like i could pass out, i never wanted this moment to end, i felt pure bliss in his arms.

unfortunately it did, that happened three months ago. i realized that night that i was in love with him, it wasn’t just feelings anymore. that was also the night the plant started growing inside of me. i spent the night at his house, baking cookies and watching doctor who together.

i had decided who i should put on my life support form. the noise of my footsteps climbing up the stairs filled the silent hallway. i cleared my throat, still feeling uncomfortable although i already coughed some petals out. i stopped in front of his door, softly knocking on spencer’s door. this plant is growing for him, he should be the one to decide. spencer opened the door, opening it wider once he saw it was me.

“y/n! you came”, his excited voice said, i stepped into his apartment with a smile on my face. his presence alone made my mood so much better. “yeah, we haven’t hung out in a while”, i said taking off my sweater and putting it on the couch. “actually i have something to talk to you about”, might as well get this over with.

“what is it”, spencer replied, coming to take a seat next to me. i stayed silent for a second as i chewed on my lip. i saw spencer’s eyes glance down at my hands, my eyes following his. i was subconsciously picking at the skin around my nails, something he said i did when i was nervous. i quickly stopped doing it and cleared my throat.

“it’s about the coughing. you said that i could tell you when i was ready, and i’m ready”, i started. i exhaled a long sigh as my vision blurred with tears. “i’m dying spencer, i have hanahaki disease”, i desperately blinked the tears away. it doesn’t matter how many times i cried, the tears just kept coming. his face remained expressionless as he just stared at me.

“i know”, he finally said. “after i saw you cough up a flower, i went home and researched everything i could about coughing up flowers. i was waiting for you to tell me”, i nodded my head as a tear slid down my cheek. spencer scooted closer to me and wiped the tear off my face with his thumb. “who do you love?”

my breath caught in my throat at his last question. i glanced down at my hands, should i tell him? i looked back up to meet his eyes, my eyes glanced at a framed picture he had of maeve on his book shelf. “that’s not important”, i finally said, my eyes returning to his. “the reason i came here is because there’s a surgery i can get, but it’s risky. there’s isn’t enough research done for the surgery to be a guaranteed success”, i said pulling out the manila folder from the bag i brought with me.

i placed the folder on his lap. his fingers reached for it, opening it to the life support form dr. lee had given me. spencer reached for the x-ray scans behind the first paper, eyes taking in the image. “red carnations are my favorite”, he said softly. yeah i know, that’s why they’re growing inside of me. “spencer, i want you to be the person to decide my fate”, i said reaching for a pen from my bag and giving it to him.

“i don’t think i can do this”, he said after a few moments, his eyes looking up to meet mine. i opened my mouth to say something but was interrupted when both of our phones ringed. i furrowed my eyebrows as i reached in my back pocket for mine. ‘new case. get here asap!’, penelope’s text message read. “look you don’t have to sign it right now, just consider it”, i said with a pleading look in my eyes, “please”.

spencer nodded his head and closed the folder. we both got into our separate cars and arrived at FBI headquarters. “alright, my lovelies”, said penelope as she entered the briefing room. the whole team had arrived and was sitting around the round table. “six prostitutes have been found dead in alleyways right here in virginia. they all have an extreme amount of stab wounds and their hair has been cut off”, garcia said cringing.

“six? why are we barely being told now?”, i said, looking down at the crime scene photos on my tablet. “the police don’t really care for prostitutes that die. they kind of just slip it under the rug”, morgan said in a disappointing tone. “why is he taking their hair though?”, emily added in.

“it could be for trophies, relive his crimes. we’ll be taking the cars over there”, hotch said in his usual serious tone. we all hopped onto two different cars, three of us in each. my eyes followed the scenery we passed on our drive. ah shit, i thought as i felt the familiar itchy sensation in my throat. i started lightly coughing, “ hotch can you please stop the car”, i heard emily say . i felt the car being pulled over and i hurriedly opened the car door.

i violently coughed onto the floor, getting down on my knees. i felt the lump come up my throat, the damned flower finally making its way out of my mouth. i heaved as i felt more coming out of my mouth, hurting and stinging my throat. i breathed heavily as i pulled back my hair. i stood up on shaky legs, using the car door for support. my thoughts ran a million miles a second as i saw that i coughed up more than the other times.

the last thing i fucking need is for this thing to get worse. i wiped the blood off my chin with my sleeve, climbing back into the car and shutting the door. “everything alright, y/l/n?”, i heard hotch’s voice say, looking at me through the rear view mirror. i nodded my head as i composed myself, emily looked back at me concerned. she’d never actually seen it happen, just heard me talk about it. we arrived at the springfield police department, where they provided a board room for us.

we ran through different theories but nothing seemed to make sense. there were two different types of stab wounds. “there’s two unsubs. one is the dominant personality which goes with the violent stab wounds”, i said looking at the crime scene photos on the board. “and one is the submissive, indicating the hesitant stab wounds”, spencer followed, coming to the realization i made. after talking to witnesses and coming up with theories, we figured out the unsubs were 36 year-old connor andrews and 17 year-old jackson gregory.

we were on our way to an abandoned warehouse, which was slap in the middle of the geo profile reid created. i felt the familiar tightness in my throat as i mentally cursed myself. you just had to go falling in love with your coworker, i internally scolded myself. we arrived to the warehouse, quickly getting out and forcing our way into the building. “put the weapon down!”, morgan’s voice boomed as we found the older unsub pointing a gun to the younger one’s head.

i suppressed my coughs and ignored the tightness i felt. “no! he betrayed me!”, the unsub connor andrews said as he held the 17 year-old against him, shielding himself with him. i felt a sharp, stabbing pain in my chest. it worsened whenever i took a breath in. my hand reached to touch my chest, trying to keep my composure. i somehow still managed to keep my coughs in, even though i felt like my throat was being ripped open. the world around me started spinning as i felt myself fall.

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