#emily has hurt her own feelings

[sluttywoozi]

Beautiful Day, Sunday Morning | sleepover fic #3

special thanks to my bestie @sluttywonwoo for this gorgeous banner!

Pairing: Joshua x fem!reader

Prompt: okay so sleeping it off didn't work. let me consult my list. hypnotism, no. meditation, certainly not. well something has to work because I simply cannot be in love with them + friends to lovers request

Rating: M (MINORS DNI I’LL SCREAM SO LOUD AND BLOCK YOU)

Word Count: ~7000 (im not well)

Warnings: food cooking and eating, alcohol drinking, hurt/comfort (just a tad its me lbr), presex communication, panty stuffing but not really (you’ll see), fingering, pussy eating, josh cums on you, joshua likes to look, mentions of marks/bruises, loving respectful manhandling, reader has a WAP, aftercare, none of these are in order, i wrote this for like 9 hours straight and haven’t edited it yet bc its four am soooooo sorry bout that, if i missed anything message or inbox me im nice i swear

half of this is just story with some suggestiveness, so if you're not into sex you can still enjoy! it's p obvious when the smut starts

Joshua sighs, finding himself laying awake in bed for the third night in a row.

He’s seriously starting to feel like he’s going crazy, and the sleep deprivation surely isn’t helping, but there’s just no way. He absolutely refuses to accept this.

He’s tried everything he could think of.

Sleeping it off didn’t work, obviously. He meditated with Hao for hours on end, with no result. He let Soonyoung try to hypnotize him but all he got from that was a headache and a bruise on the cheek where the stopwatch swung into his face. 

Joshua won’t give up though, can’t give up, because this is life or death. Something has to work and Joshua is willing to try anything, well, almost anything, if it means what he fears will be proven false.

He simply cannot be in love with you. He just can’t. 

Not when your friendship is the most valuable of them all, not when your presence is like a hot salted caramel mocha on a blisteringly cold morning, not when you’re the person he always looks forward to seeing, the person he dreads leaving for even a day.

Sure, he sometimes thinks about you late at night, when he’s alone in bed. Sure, he turns people down at bars his friends dragged him to for the sole purpose of getting him laid, just because he likes your voice and your face and your soul and your body better. Sure, he often dreams of you and wakes up feeling lonely, passing his hand over the empty side of the bed and wishing you were there. Sure, the side he leaves empty is coincidentally the same side he knows you sleep on, but that doesn’t mean-

Oh. Wait. 

Joshua is totally in love with you. 

Well, what the fuck is he supposed to do now?

He lets himself thrash in bed a bit, digging the back of his head into the pillow and tensing his jaw, then takes a deep breath, moving out of tantrum mode and into solution mode. 

Okay. 

Option 1: Joshua avoids you for a while and hopes the feelings go away on their own. 

He shakes his head, knowing immediately that won’t work because if he doesn’t text you for a day, you’ll just text him, and if he doesn’t respond, you’ll call, and he’ll pick up, because it’s you. 

And then he’ll hear your voice and you might sound sad that he didn’t text you back and then he’ll be sad, and guilty, and desperate to make it up to you. Which will lead to him making you dinner and probably pushing you up against the counter and kissing you until he forgets about the pasta on the stove and then it’ll boil over and just be a huge mess, and Joshua hates messes. 

Option 2: Joshua doesn’t avoid you, and hopes the feelings go away on their own. 

No, that won’t work either, because being around you is what gave him these feelings in the first place and being around you will just make them worse. He’ll be able to look at you and touch you and listen to you and you’ll smile at him and squeeze his hand like you always do, and marvel at the size of it compared to yours, and then Joshua will only be able to think about crawling on top of you on the couch and holding your hands down with his and they’ll look so small and you’ll-

Joshua clears his throat, shifting his legs in the sheets and willing his mind to settle down. 

Option 3: Joshua doesn’t avoid you, and doesn’t hope the feelings go away. 

This option is intriguing, because it means Joshua will still get to be around you and he won’t have to shove anything down, like he’s apparently been doing for… fuck, has he been in love with you this whole time? Has it been literal years??

Joshua shoots straight up in bed, bracing himself on his hands and blinking the drowsiness away. His brows furrow as he thinks over every moment he’s ever shared with you, every time he’s caught himself staring at your lips or holding your hand or getting jealous of a date or glaring at one of his friends for flirting with you. It’s been so obvious, and he had no clue. 

Has it been this obvious to everyone?

Shit. Has it been this obvious to you?

Joshua needs a second opinion, and doesn’t think twice about grabbing his phone and calling for backup. 

Jeonghan sounds irritated and exhausted when he picks up on the fifth ring, and Joshua sucks in a deep breath before starting, “Jeonghan, I need you to be honest with me, this is very important. Did you know I’m in love with y/n?”

“Yeah, Shua, we all knew.”

Joshua swears to himself, it’s just like he feared. 

“And when you say ‘we all-’”

“No, y/n doesn’t know,” Jeonghan groans with exasperation, “but if you don’t say it soon, I will. It’s fucking annoying watching you guys moon over each other all the time. And don’t even get me started on-”

“Wait. Each other?” Joshua holds his breath as he waits for confirmation, “Jeonghan, I need clarification on the ‘each other’ part.” 

Jeonghan heaves a sigh before answering, like he’s millimeters from hiring an assassin. 

“Yes, Joshua, each other. I’m hanging up now.” 

“Jeonghan wait-” Joshua tries to get out, but he hears the dial tone and checks his messages to see Jeonghan has put him on do not disturb. That was that then. 

Okay, Joshua can deal with this. He can figure it out, Joshua is good at figuring things out. 

He shakes his head and pushes a breath out before biting his lip to stop the smile. 

Each other. He can work with that. 

“Joshie!” You throw open the door, beaming and grabbing his hand to pull him inside you-r apartment! Inside your apartment. 

Joshua dramatically rolls his eyes, hiding his grin behind a smirk, and sighs out, “Not this again…” as if he’s not giggling on the inside at the way you’re tugging him to the kitchen. 

“Please, you love when I call you Joshie and we both know it,” you respond with playful eyes and your own smirk. 

Fuck, he sucks in a breath, how did he deal with your teasing before figuring out he’s in love with you? Because now, it’s just making him ha-

“So, I was thinking we could try out a new pasta recipe I saw on Instagram, it has tomatoes and goat cheese and garlic, and I got a new puzzle!” 

You sound so cute, so excited, that Josh has to clear his throat and try to blink away the hearts in his eyes before he can even think of what to say. 

“That sounds great! I hope a red will go with it?” Josh holds up the wine bottle with a hand that shakes only a little, the other still caught in yours, and tries to stop his mind from going to the events of Option 1. 

It’s difficult though, when he spots the exact pot he envisioned on the stove, already filled with salted water and waiting to be boiled. 

You squeeze his hand before detaching to grab the bottle from him and throw it in the chiller, and Joshua respectfully (and frankly, for his own survival) looks away from how your jeans mold perfectly to the shape of your ass when you crouch down to find room. 

He does well enough while you’re cooking together, moving around each other in a dance that evidences years of practice, getting distracted only when you lean up over his shoulder to monitor his garlic chopping. You’re very particular about how your garlic is cut, and it was only recently you began allowing him the responsibility. 

Joshua can admit now how much it meant to him when you passed him the knife with a trusting smile and eyes that screamed, don’t fuck this up, just a few months ago. 

Managing to finish the garlic preparation with relative ease, Joshua starts looking around for the recipe you were talking about. Normally, you print it out and put it up on your fridge but the stainless steel is empty, except for the magnetic photo of him and you he bought you last year. Well, him and you and all of your friends, not that he’s looking at any of them. 

No, Joshua only has eyes for you, and they follow you as you flit around your kitchen, sunlight catching on your hair and cheekbones, your hips swaying softly to the music flowing from your sound bar. 

He’s forgotten what he was looking for, and he’s forgotten to pretend he wasn’t drinking in your every move, because you turn around and stop short, eyes wide at finding him staring at you so intently. 

“Do you need something?” You ask, brows tilting up in confusion. 

Joshua breathes in deeply, catching your perfume on the air amidst the roasting tomatoes and fresh garlic, and he shakes his head with a soft smile. 

“No, I have everything I need,” you start to look more bemused, like you’re trying to figure him out, and Joshua rushes to finish, “except the recipe! Where’d you put it?”

“Oh!” You jump, running to the couch to grab your phone and pull up Instagram, “It’s just a video, it seemed simple enough so I was doing it from memory but I should’ve sent it to you, my bad!” 

Your brows furrow as you start typing in his new handle, and Joshua stills your fingers with his, deciding he can afford to be just a tad more bold. 

“My phone’s almost dead, actually. Could we just share yours?” Joshua tries to ask innocently, masking his ulterior motive of getting to be closer to you. 

“Yeah, of course! Do you wanna charge your phone? I can go plug it in,” you offer helpfully, gesturing over your shoulder to your bedroom, but Joshua shakes his head. 

“Nah, the only person whose texts I care about is here,” he says smoothly, locking his eyes with yours and reminding himself that Jeonghan said each other. 

You hold his gaze, something he doesn’t recognize flashing through your eyes and your mouth scrunching to the side, like it does when you’re… hurt. You visibly shake it off though, shake him off, pulling away and turning to set the pot of water to boil. 

Joshua can’t fight the frown, feeling distance between you and him that normally isn’t there, but he lets you take your space and works on figuring out what he’s done wrong. He can barely hear the simmering of the tomatoes and goat cheese in the oven over the roaring in his ears, as he takes in your tense shoulders and stiff posture from the other side of the counter. When he sees your ribs expand and then hitch, like you were trying to gather yourself, he decides you’ve had enough space. 

So Joshua crosses the kitchen, laying a gentle, warm hand on your shoulder, and tries peeking at your face. You’re not crying, thankfully, but he can see your teeth gnawing at your lip and the fragile set of your brows, and he pulls you into his chest, wrapping you up tight in his arms.

“What’s wrong?” He breathes into your hair, tucking your head into his neck with the softest push he can manage. 

Joshua waits as patiently as he can, but when the water comes to a boil and you still haven’t answered, he pulls away to add the penne and then leans against the counter, staring at you. 

“Baby, please tell me what just happened. Did I say something wrong?” Joshua has called you baby since he met you, it’s just instinct by now, but it felt different now that he knows he’s in love with you. It felt… right. 

But it just makes you tense up more, and now Joshua is more confused than ever. You’ve never cared about him calling you baby, you went with it from the start, and even started calling him Joshie in return. 

“Shua… I just-” 

“Joshie,” He interrupts, feeling his heart leap into his throat at the change in nickname. All of your friends call him Shua, you’re the only one he allows to call him Joshie, and he can’t stand hearing the alternative from you. 

Joshua can feel his own brows pinching together, his arms coming up to cross over his chest, like that could protect him somehow. 

You mirror him, bracing yourself against the stove before he lets a hand down to tug you away from the steaming pot of water, and he uses that hand to pull you closer, finding that he can’t make himself let go. 

You’re staring at him now, and you seem to be considering something. He can tell by the set of your shoulders that you’re weighing things, and hears Jeonghan’s voice say each other in his head. And somehow, he knows that you and him are on the precipice of something. 

Something great, Joshua hopes. 

So he takes in another breath and takes a few short steps to stand in front of you, delicately framing your face in his hands and leaning in close. He stops just short of your lips, feeling the catch in your breath this time, and exhales against you, “Tell me to stop. Tell me this isn’t what you want.” 

You don’t say anything, just stare deeply into his eyes, like you’re searching for something. You must find it, because you close the distance to press your lips against his, and Joshua feels something unlock in his chest and make extra space for you.

Joshua’s mind doesn’t wander too far, not with your mouth on his and your body heat against him, and he slides one hand into your hair. The other moves down to mold to your neck, his thumb tracing the edge of your jaw before resting on your pulse. He can feel your heart racing, sprinting just like his, and he drinks you in, sipping from your lips like you’re the finest wine he’s ever had. 

He gets carried away quickly, turning with you in his arms to push you against the counter, sliding his tongue along your bottom lip, practically begging you to open up for him. 

You do, with a sigh, and Joshua slips his tongue into your mouth to glide against yours. You taste… like nothing he’s ever had and he’s desperate for more already, tugging your mouth open further with a thumb on your chin. He licks into you, brushing up against your hard palate, sucking your tongue into his mouth, his moan vibrating against your lips. You swallow it, responding with a whimper, and Joshua’s hips kick into yours. He can feel himself getting harder, feel the heat gathering in his gut, and the hand in your hair drifts down to take your hip in a firm grip, kneading at your plush skin. 

Joshua’s about to bring his other hand down and lift you up onto the countertop, dreaming already of spreading your thighs and grinding against you, pulling your jeans down, spreading you with his fingers and licking you open before slipping his cock inside where he just knows you’re wet and hot and soft and perfect, but you pull away. 

You pull away, and Joshua tries desperately to follow you, but you breathe a laugh against his lips and push him from you with a hand to his chest. 

He can feel his eyebrows furrowing, knows he’s panting and probably looking slightly undignified, but he doesn’t care. All he cares about is why you stopped kissing him and how to get you to start kissing him again. 

“Too fast?” He asks nervously, hands squeezing at your hips without his permission, and he consciously loosens his grip so you can fully pull away if you so choose. 

“No, Joshie, you’re perfect, it’s just-” you pause to catch your breath. “The pasta’s about to boil over and the timer’s been going off for like three minutes.”

His head whips around, seeing your microwave beeping and the water jumping out of the pot, penne far too close to the surface for comfort. He moves with you in tandem, you turning the burner down and shutting off the timer, Joshua grabbing a colander from the cabinet and draining the pasta in the sink. Turning to toss you oven mitts right before you open the oven, he remembers his prediction of Option 1 and can’t hold in the laugh. 

The sizzling of the olive oil and roasted tomatoes covers the chuckle escaping him, and Joshua moves behind you to wrap his arms around your waist and set his chin on your shoulder, smooching the side of your head. Your skilled hands mash the mixture together and pour in a bit of the pasta water he’d remembered to reserve (thank God), the sauce coming together quickly. He detaches from you only when you ask him to bring over the pasta, and he carefully tilts the penne into the dutch oven as you stir, the scent of garlic and goat cheese and robust San Marzanos filling the air. 

Joshua had been so wrapped up in you, he didn’t even notice he was hungry, but as he feels his stomach growl, he still can’t say he cares much about eating right now. Food, that is. 

You’re adorably excited though, beaming at him with bright eyes and spinning on your toes to retrieve the wine he brought, so he turns and lifts your favorite bowls down from the cabinet, grabbing two sets of silverware along the way. You meet him at your dining table, grinning and setting down the fresh grated parm, and Joshua can feel his throat close a little as he imagines doing this with you each and every night. 

The pasta was delicious, recipe bookmarked in your phone and already sent to Mingyu and Seokmin, and he washes dishes with you side by side. The cleaning goes quickly, barring the wine glasses you’re both still drinking from, but Joshua plucks yours from your hand just before you pour another glass and backs you up against the sink. 

“Joshua, we always finish the wine,” your tone and the use of his full name betrays your befuddlement, but he won’t be swayed. 

“Baby,” Joshua pauses to follow the shiver that runs down your spine with his hand, gaze tinted with want and fondness, before continuing, “If we finish the wine, you’ll get tipsy. There are a lot of things I want to do to you tonight, and I can’t do 75% of them if you’re out of it.”

Your eyes grow wide, lashes fluttering, and you nibble at the inside of your lip. It’s a bad habit of yours, and you’ve complained to him before of the sore spots that result sometimes, so he takes the opportunity to smooth his thumb over your lip and gently tug it free. Leaning in to slide his tongue along the seam of your mouth, Joshua breathes softly against you and waits. 

You huff, and surge forward to capture his lips with yours, your hands flying up to curl around his neck and pull him closer. Joshua giggles into your kiss, squeezing his hands around yours before moving them to your hips to haul you up against him so you can feel how hard he is for you, already. You press back, and his giggles melt into a groan at the feeling of your body against his. He’s wondering if you’ll let him fuck you on your counter, but you cook a lot and you’ll probably think it’s unsanitary. Joshua considers the dining table next, but doubts it’s sturdy enough for all of his plans, and the couch is just unacceptable, there’s not nearly enough room. 

You make the decision for him, pushing against his hips with your own and sliding your hands in his hair to physically pull his lips from yours. He pouts, letting you tug him away but also letting his cock press against you when the pull makes his hips buck. 

“Let’s go, then,” you whine urgently, trying to move forward, but the pressure’s made Joshua’s brain fuzzy and he has no clue what you’re talking about. 

“Go where?” Joshua asks, panting against you before shaking his head in an attempt to clear it. 

“Go to bed, babe, let’s go to the bed,” you set your hands on his chest and push insistently, and Joshua’s nothing if not a gentleman, so it takes little thought to let you guide him to your bedroom. 

What his lady wants, his lady gets. 

Joshua can’t take his eyes off you as you whip your shirt over your head and toss it at the chair in the corner, but he gets his ass in gear when he sees your hands slide down your body to unbutton your jeans. He’s thought too much about undressing you to let you do it yourself, and his hands pull yours up to his abs, using the distraction to undo your jeans and start tugging them down. 

He’s not as sneaky as he thought though, and blushes at your knowing smirk as he presses a kiss to your belly. But Joshua gets you back, with his fingers sliding under both sides of your panties to pull them up tight against you. 

You’re wet already and Joshua’s vision tunnels as he stares at the damp spot between your legs, your folds outlined by the fabric with how taut he’s holding it. You squirm, but he’s not done looking, and he soothes you with fingers petting gently at the soft skin of your hips, taking you in for a few more seconds. 

Joshua doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable though, figures you might need some time to get used to him in this setting, and he knows there’ll be plenty of nights (and mornings and afternoons) for him to look his fill. So tonight, he lets go of your panties and rises to take his shirt off, unbuckling his belt and dropping his pants to the floor. He can feel your eyes on him as he gathers up his clothes and your jeans, crossing the room to lay them on your chair before turning back to you with the corners of his lips quirked up. 

He can sense your nervousness, and tries to figure out how to break the ice and remind you he’s your best friend. Smiling at you until his eyes squint, Joshua walks toward you slowly, then charges you when he’s a few feet away. You shriek and giggle when he leans down to wrap his arms around you and press the side of his face into your chest, tackling you onto your bed. Bouncing together, Joshua rolls until you’re sitting on him and he can feel your wet heat on his cock, seeping through his boxers and making his dick twitch. He swallows a groan, trying to maintain some semblance of composure, but he gives that up when you start rolling your hips against his. 

“Baby,” Joshua moans out, pulling your hips harder against his. “Tell me what you like?”

He sets up a steady grind as you think, feeling you get wetter and wetter against his dick, but he can tell you’re getting distracted by the friction, and he needs to know what’s okay and what’s not okay before he takes you any further. 

So, Joshua stills your hips with a firm grip and says your name with all the sternness he can muster when you’re practically soaking through his boxers. 

You pout at him guiltily, petting his pecs in apology, “I like not being in charge. I like when you grab me like that, and I liked when you threw me on the bed.”

Joshua can feel the heat rush through him at your candor, rewards you with minute thrusts of his hips against yours, and confirms, “You want me to manhandle you a bit? Tell you what to do?”

You sigh at the thought, sagging against him and Joshua sits up against the headboard so you can brace yourself on his chest without having to lean down so far. 

“Yeah, Joshie, I want that,” you breathe against his lips before pulling him into a kiss, and he can tell you’re trying to distract him to get out of talking more, but he can’t make himself care. 

“We’ll talk more about this later, yeah?” Joshua asks, but you both know it’s not a question. 

You nod into the kiss, sucking his tongue and starting to buck against him in a cute, needy way, and Joshua can’t hold off any longer. 

He holds you gently by the back of your neck, wrapping the other arm around your waist, and you get the memo to stop moving just before he starts rising up on his knees. He spreads his thighs underneath yours, shifting up so you tilt backwards onto the bed until he can hold himself above you, unwinding his arm from your waist to hold your jaw in one hand. He presses one last kiss to your plush lips before pulling away to stare down at you. 

Your eyes are hazy, your breasts heaving, and Joshua can see the strain in your thighs from how his knees are holding them open, putting the wet patch on your panties on full display. He smirks, smoothing one hand down your body to slide his thumb down your cunt, feeling your folds part further under the pressure.

You’re so wet, the fabric is practically translucent, and Josh is hypnotized by the glimpse of your cunt. He shuffles down to get a closer look, palm flat to your sternum when you try to follow him, and he can’t resist sinking his middle finger into you as deep as your panties allow. The fabric gives easily, stretching and following his finger inside to the first knuckle. You’re tight, even just with this, and Joshua knows he’ll have to open you up if you want his cock, revels in it. 

Withdrawing his finger, he watches your cunt clench around the bit of fabric that remains inside, groaning out loud when he pulls and it comes out of you even wetter. He’ll have to buy you new panties, and maybe some bras, perhaps a set or two, and probably matching couples pajam-

You squirm, and Joshua looks up to check in, relaxing when he sees you’re just desperate for more. He decides he’s tortured you enough for one night, yanking your panties down, tossing them off the bed, and leaning in close to get his first look at your bare pussy. 

You’re glistening, hips shifting against the sheets in anticipation, and Joshua’s already thrown one leg over his shoulder before he asks, “Can I eat you out?”

You nod before he’s finished talking, but you should know by now that you’ll have to tell him, so he just stares, flicking his eyes between yours and your pussy. 

Your eyes roll skyward in embarrassment and agitation, the back of your head pushing into your pillow, and you force out, “Yes, you can, please do.”

“That’s all you had to say, baby,” Joshua responds, a touch condescendingly and more than a touch smug, lifting your other thigh onto his shoulder and smoothing his hands around your hips to hold your pelvis down. 

His first taste has him opening his mouth wider, wishing he could swallow you whole, but for now he’ll content himself with pushing his tongue as far inside you as it can go. You’re soft, and so hot, and soaking wet, and immediately Joshua knows he’d do this every day, if you’d let him. Wake you up with his head between your thighs and put you to bed with his tongue inside you, if he could. Live and breathe and die in your pussy, if you’d allow it. He thinks you just might, with the way you’re trying to buck up against his hands, your eyes closed and breathy whines escaping your open mouth. 

In the future, Joshua will make you keep your eyes on him, but for now, he couldn’t care less. All he cares about is getting as much of you in his mouth as he can and making you cum on his tongue as soon as you can take it. He’s relentless, sucking your clit into his mouth, laving over it, pinching it between his lips, getting you wetter and wetter until you’re drenching his face and the sheets. You’re still trying to grind against him, which is cute, honestly, but Joshua’s not letting you move, not unless you tell him to stop. 

He shifts to band one arm across your stomach, digging his fingers into the fleshy part of your hip, anchoring you to the bed, and brings his hand to your cunt to slide one finger inside. You’re not as tight as before, and Joshua sighs against you in relief before starting to nudge another finger at your entrance, looking up at you and waiting for the breathy yes yes yes to sink it in next to the first. His fingers are big, much thicker and longer than yours, and you take a second to adjust. You’re already squeezing at them though, pussy trying to suck them in deeper, so he follows until his knuckles brush against you, and curls his fingers up when he bottoms out. 

(He’s a bit too deep to get at your g-spot, but you enjoy the motion nonetheless and open your mouth to beg for more right when Joshua suctions his plush lips around your clit again and you’re almost almost almost-)

“Fuck, Joshie, please! Please, please, please I’m right there,” you whine, hands flying down to push his head into you, fingers tangling in his hair, and Joshua has to press his hips into the bed to get his cock to stop jumping. He knows he’s leaking precum, will have to change the sheets after he gets you in the bath, but you’re just so fucking hot, he can’t help it. 

He does want to make you cum though, needs to, so he starts spreading his fingers, opening you up for a third, and sucks harder at your clit until you break, back arching, mouth open in a silent scream. He keeps going, fucking his fingers in and out of your sopping wet pussy and tonguing your clit in pulses, until you push his head again, away from you this time. 

Joshua releases your clit from his mouth but keeps his fingers inside, spreading them wider against your throbbing walls, and asks, “Wanna go again?” 

You stare at him with wet lashes, your breasts rising and falling with your breaths, and he’s almost distracted enough to move up your body and suck your nipples into his mouth, wonders if he can get both at once if he pushes your tits together enough, thinks about digging his fingers into the plushness, thinks about the bruises he could nip into them, but you respond and pull him from his thoughts. 

“I think it might kill me, but yes,” you exhale, sounding tired but so needy still and Joshua loves you, he loves you so much, and he really hopes you don’t notice when he spells it on your clit with his tongue, followed by his name, then yours with Hong tacked onto the end. He doesn’t think you do, because you’re moaning, near crying with pleasure, and he hasn’t even started moving his fingers again yet. 

Which he rectifies immediately, pushing them into you with more force this time, spreading you open and shoving his tongue inside to lick at your walls. The hand grasping your hip shifts, fingers moving to press down on your clit, rubbing small, quick circles. Your wetness is seeping out around his fingers, dripping into his mouth and down his chin onto the bed, and he knows he needs to make you cum soon if he doesn’t want to push you into the unpleasant kind of overstimulation. 

He pulls his hand out slightly, and you cry out at the loss, trying to buck your hips up and get him deep again, until he finds your g-spot and grinds into it with the tips of his fingers. Hooking his digits inside of you, Joshua rubs incessantly at the rough patch, fucking into you and suctioning his lips around your clit until you clench so tight he doesn’t bother moving them, until you break apart with a wail. You gush, wetness flooding out and soaking the lower half of his face, and Joshua feels his eyes fluttering shut as he drinks you in. 

Your thighs shake on his shoulders, your stomach trembling as you try to get air into your lungs, and his tongue laps at your clit until you push his head away again, for good this time. Joshua doesn’t go far, still breathing you in and feeling your cunt throb around his fingers. 

Your hand pets at his head before it slips from his hair, flopping down onto the bed as your eyes close heavily. You’re not asleep, and you haven’t passed out (he thinks), so he just lets you catch your breath and wipes his face off with one hand, pulling the other from you slowly before shifting your thighs off his shoulders and sitting up on his knees between your splayed legs. 

Joshua wants to put his hands on you, smooth them up your body to squeeze your tits then cradle your face, but he has other plans for the slickness leftover on his palms. 

He tugs his boxers down with a pinky, cock bobbing out, and waits for your eyes to open before saying softly, “Baby, I’m not fucking you tonight,” you shoot him a sleepy frown, bottom lip pushing out just a bit before he continues. “But can I cum on your pussy? I’ll rinse you off and run a bath after.” 

Your pupils get even bigger, nearly blocking out the color of your irises, and you smile serenely at him with bleary eyes, wrapping your hands underneath your thighs and pulling them up so you’re spread open for him. 

Fuck, Joshua’s so fucking gone for you.

He can feel more precum seeping out of the head of his cock, feel how his boxers stick to his thighs from a combination of you and him, and he can feel the shudder roll all the way from his scalp to his toes at the first touch of his hand on his cock. His palm is slick, wet with you, and he stops himself from dipping back into your pussy for more, knowing you’re sensitive.

You’ve given Joshua more than enough to work with anyway, more than he used to get on those lonely nights where all he had was the thought of you, and as he takes in your still fluttering cunt, takes in the fuckdrunk look on your face, takes in the scent of your pussy on the air, he already knows he’s close. 

His body doesn’t know yet, but it’s catching up quick. His stomach is tensing, his chest rapidly expanding with his panting, his balls tightening more and more the longer he gazes at you. Joshua can’t contain his sounds, lets the grunts and groans fall into the air, whining your name when he glides one palm over the head of his cock and squeezes down at the base with the other. He just needs a little bit more, just a li-

“Cum, Joshie, please cum, I wanna feel it,” you ask sweetly, urgently, and he swears, feeling his cock jump in his hands as hot cum spills out, painting your pussy white and dribbling down your folds. His hearing goes fuzzy, white noise filling his mind, and he clenches his eyes shut, cumming harder than he has in… years?

Joshua opens his eyes to see your entrance clench, tightening around nothing, and he barely resists the urge to drop back down onto his stomach and push his cum inside of you, fuck it into your cunt with his fingers and then fuck it deeper with his dick, stay buried in you until he’s hard and do it all over again. 

But you’re tired, and he’s tired, and he catches your wince when you let your thighs down. 

Joshua reaches over to snag a tissue from the box you keep next to your bed, and wipes his hands off before smoothing them up your thighs to knead at where your pelvis connects with your femurs. You had your legs open for a while, then up, and he doesn’t want you to be sore tomorrow, so he pulls back, lifting you into his arms and carrying you into the bathroom. He sets you down on the counter, starting the shower and wiping your pussy off gently with a damp washcloth before handing you a clip so you can get your hair out of the way. 

“Can we take a bath tomorrow? I just wanna snuggle and go to bed,” you request, voice thick with sleep and raspy from the orgasms, and Joshua feels his heart swell. His teeth poke out of the smile he shines at you, and he gathers you up into a hug, rubbing your back and picking you up off the counter to walk you into the shower. He can feel your breath leave you in a contented sigh, and you lean your head against his chest as he spreads suds up your back, his hands drifting over your skin gently and massaging out any knots he finds. 

You’re dozing against him when he drops to his knees to wash your lower half so he leans you against the shower wall, keeping one hand on your hip to make sure you don’t fall over. Making quick work of himself, Joshua shuts off the shower and wraps you up in a towel, patting his hands over your limbs to dry you off as much as he can. You’re a bit more awake now that you’re out of the heat of the water, and he dries himself off roughly before helping you tug your robe on and ushering your slightly shivering form into your bedroom. You’re walking fine, but Joshua keeps his hands on you anyway, doesn’t see a reason not to, and tries to pretend he’s not giddy at the thought of picking out your pajamas and falling asleep next to you. 

He escorts you to the bench at the end of your bed, makes sure you’re sitting securely, and turns to your dresser to get something for you to sleep in. 

“Just gimme your shirt,” you mumble, leaning back against your bed and pulling your knees to your chest, and Joshua short circuits for a second, imagining you in his clothes. It’s time to sleep, he chides himself, when he feels the blood rushing down to his dick, and speeds over to grab his tee from the chair. It’s huge on him, and he knows you’ll look adorable in it even before he tugs it over your head, and fuck, does he love being right. 

He questions you about undies and follows your finger to the top drawer, pulling out the first pair his fingers touch so he doesn’t linger, and guides them up your legs. You stand and pull them the rest of the way on yourself, before climbing right up onto your bed and holding a hand out. 

Joshua tries his best to keep his cool, but he’s just a little too excited to burrow under the covers with you, and your body rolls towards him when he hops into the bed. He pretends he planned it though, pretends he was continuing his bit from earlier, when he bodychecked you into the mattress, and he’s pretty sure he’s gotten away with it until you giggle and tap his nose. 

He scoffs into the space between him and you, then pulls you closer until there’s none left, dropping a kiss on each of your cheeks, laying one on your forehead, and gently pressing his lips to yours as his final goodnight kiss. 

“Oh!,” Joshua remembers, shifting up onto an elbow to stare down at you, “And in case it wasn’t obvious, I’m deeply, madly, embarrassingly in love with you.” 

You blink up at him with exhausted eyes, smiling and placing a palm on his cheek to pull him down into one more kiss, before winking at him and whispering, “Same.”

You’re asleep before Joshua’s gotten over his disbelief, but he just grins, realizing it’s Saturday, and he’ll get to wake you up with his favorite song, crooned directly into your ear. 

AN: im too sleepy to do a real an rn but whoever requested this ily so much and to all of my followers ily so much too and i'll see you tomorrow muah

tagging: @lenireads @confusedbansheee @junhui-recs @burningupp-replies @heeseung-lover686 @favehoshiposts @gyvswhore @jaysawake (unable to tag) @1004luvangel @bangchanbabygirlx @baldi-2 (unable to tag) @monamonay @dontyouthinkiknowwhoiam @just-here-to-read-01 @gaebestie

find my masterlist here

okay im gonna go to bed bye

#joshua smut #joshua x you #joshua x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen #✨emily writes✨ #emily feels like she's going insane #emily is very tired #emily has hurt her own feelings #seventeen x you #✨emily's sleepover✨

[street-smarts00]

Clingy

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (BAU!reader)

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

WC: 3.7k

Summary: You tended to be very expressive with your friends when showing your affection. Whether it showed in pet names or physical touch. Only thing is, Spencer thinks he’s falling in love with you, and all of your sweet affectionate actions are starting to take a toll on his unrequited heart. At least, he thinks it’s unrequited. 

Tags: there’s a tiny bit of miscommunication but not too much that it will make your head explode like it does mine. Make out but nothing grown/spicy. Friends to lovers. A bit of hurt/comfort

A/N: Not beta read don’t kill me! yoooo spence is so in denial about her feelings in this but lol so real king. This is mostly from his POV but I had to cheat a few times. Hope i can live up to the hype that complimentary colors was. I low key don't like this one as much but had to execute it cause the idea was cute.

You were starting to drive him insane. Criminally insane. You could invade his thoughts at any waking moment of his day and take over his mind. Every affectionate pet name, every soft fleeting touch, hell every time you look at him, he would replay the moment in his mind like a broken record. If he was in a crowded room, his eyes would always fall on you. 

After being with the BAU for a while you became good friends with your coworkers. And with that, came your habit of calling your friends sweet nicknames. Anything from sweetie, to honey, to babes, and the one that broke his heart the most, my love. 

At first he didn’t understand why you were using terms of endearment that were typically used in a romantic relationship, but in a platonic way. At some point he caught on that you were similar to Garcia when it came to expressing your love for friends. Similar to her and the way she has her own sweet silly way of expressing how she cares.

Nevertheless, some small part of his heart still broke when you called him those names. He adored your sweet caring nature and the fact that you cared enough about him to call him terms of endearment. But every time a nickname fell from your lips, he was reminded you only meant it platonically. 

It was his own personal torture to constantly be reminded he would never be your sweetie, your honey … your love. But the nicknames weren’t enough to drive him insane. While it drove him to the brink of insanity, he was able to keep his head somewhat still on his shoulders. 

Not long after the heart warming but crushing nicknames, you showed your true love language. Physical touch. It showed in many forms. It could show when poking JJ in the shoulder and giving Emily a high five. Or nudging Morgan in his side with your elbow. You even managed to get a fist pump from Hotch and Rossi. And of course the welcome and goodbye hugs from Penelope. 

You were a bit hesitant at first to express this love language of yours with Spencer due to his aversion to touch and germs. However, you observed that he would gratefully receive occasional touches. Whether it be a hug, high-five, or even the rare ruffle of his hair -which of course would be from Morgan. So you approached him and asked if he was comfortable with physical contact. 

When it came to you, he was more than comfortable. You could take him in your arms and he would simply melt into a puddle on the floor. Except he didn’t say that and his reply was closer to a mix of stuttering and rambling about how you could never make him uncomfortable and how he just doesn’t like germs. 

Now he’s not saying he regrets his choices. He wouldn’t ever take it back. He enjoys every single lingering touch between the two of you. Actually “enjoys” would be a severe understatement. Every single time you ruffle his hair, lean your head on his shoulder, or even just carefully touch his arm, it was as if a thousand volts of electricity were flowing through him. Like he could light up the city even. You were the best part of his days and the reason breath filled his lungs. You brought a light into his life that made him feel safe and warm. 

He desperately wanted your affection, your attention, your touch, to mean something more than he knew it to be. But sooner or later, touch after touch, he started to go insane. Somewhere along the way he had daydreamed so deep he had lost his mind. 

You had officially driven Spencer Reid insane. 

He was promptly whisked away from his thoughts when he felt the tap of a folder on his shoulder and a light thump on his desk. 

“Hotch wants to know your thoughts on the consultation from Colorado,” you started. 

He blinked back into focus glancing at the papers on his desk. 

“Hey, you alright?” You asked with concern. “You look like your head is in the clouds.”

“I’m fine, just lost in thought,” he answered with a small smile reassuring you.

“Don’t get too lost. Can’t have your genius brain short circuiting on us.” You chuckled as you took a small step closer to him and playfully ruffled his hair. 

“I’ll try not to,” he grinned and pushed his hair back after you messed with it. 

“Well I’ll be back soon, my love. Gotta go bother Penelope,” you joked before making your way out of the bullpen. 

His gaze was lingering on you as you left. His thoughts started to drift to you again as his cheeks turned pink.

“I’ll be back soon, my love,” Morgan mimicked in a higher pitched voice with a grin as he approached Spencer's desk. In response Spencer turned his chair away from Morgan to hide his now red face. 

“When are you two going to start dating? You guys already act like a couple.” 

“We do not act like a couple,” Spencer argued. “She just sometimes calls me pet names, that's normal for her.” 

“You don’t see it do you?” Morgan furrowed his eyebrows and was seconds away from chuckling. “She’s been giving you quite a bit of attention lately. Practically clinging onto you.” 

“I mean I- I don’t think so. She does that with everyone, it's not just me. She just happens to be very affectionate with friends.” He answers as his voice almost cracked. 

Morgan shook his head, “Oh no it’s more than that. Have you ever noticed that she calls you “my love” but she calls us “love”? Or when we’re on a long flight back home and you two are all cuddly on the jet. How she always seeks out your company and finds an excuse to talk to you or about you.” 

Spencer couldn’t speak. He had so many words on the tip of his tongue but his voice wouldn’t make a sound. He sat frozen and mouth slightly agape as his brain started to go into overdrive. 

Morgan's face softened at Spencer's reaction. “It’s different with you kid. Friends don’t act like that.” 

“You and Garcia do.” Spencer countered, this time definitely with a voice crack. Morgan lightly chucked. He was well aware that his and Penelope’s friendship was a bit different than other male/female friendships. 

“Okay you got me there, but you and Y/N aren’t me and Garcia. We may flirt with each other a lot but that’s our thing. You two have this care for each other like nothing I've ever seen.” 

Spencer was left stunned once again and Morgan could practically see the gears in his head turning.

“You may not notice it now, or hell you may not let yourself notice it now, but it’s true.” 

Those words rang in the back of Spencer's mind for days. Of course on a regular basis you would occupy his mind at any given moment. But now it wasn’t just thoughts about you. His mind was over analyzing almost every interaction between you and him, trying to find what Morgan had talked about. Some form of evidence that proved what you felt for him was beyond what he had initially thought. 

He was recounting all the recent times you had approached him out of the members of your team. He recalled all the times you were either hanging out or on the jet and you found yourself tracing patterns on his arm. He was rethinking when you started to use nicknames around him and how it could be different with him than with others. It turned out Morgan might be right, as Spencer realized the numerous times you referred to Garcia or Emily as “love”, but in the rare instance you said “my love” it was only ever directed to him. 

The idea of you liking him back had become an all consuming thought, but he was too terrified to ask you. What if Morgan was wrong? Profilers have been wrong before. He became petrified by the idea of asking you about it and possibly finding out his feelings were unrequited. But most of all, he was scared of losing you. Scared that if he brought it up he would make things awkward and ruin your friendship. He couldn’t lose you, not over something as trivial as his feelings. 

Unfortunately the mental toll this was taking on his mind started to show. Not so obvious that the everyday person would notice, but you weren’t an everyday person. You grew to know him like the back of your hand. So of course you started to notice the little changes in his behavior. His ever so slight flinch when you would initially touch him. His eyes which used to linger on you and catch your eyes from across the room, now focused almost anywhere you weren’t. The way his body froze when you placed a hand on his shoulder. The way his eyes partially widened when you called him anything other than his name. 

He tried to hide his worries from you, but you could tell something was bothering him. 

Something about you.

His overall behavior didn’t reflect that he was avoiding you or distancing himself from you. He still talked to you and acted around you like normal. Instead it felt like he was holding himself back from receiving or truly appreciating your affection the way he used to. 

~

Days had passed and the team was sent on a case. While this case was an emotional rollercoaster for everyone, it had affected you the most. The victims had reminded you of yourself and the unsub and all of his delusional reasoning for his actions had hit very close to home. 

The team caught the unsub and closed the case quite late in the evening. Everyone was exhausted after the grueling past few days and decided to spend the night at the hotel to rest and leave in the morning. You however, still felt an ache in your stomach from all the anxiety felt throughout the day. You couldn’t seem to relax and let that weight off your shoulders. So you went to the one person who could help.  

Spencer was getting ready to go to sleep, peacefully reading a book in bed when he got a knock on his door. He placed his book down and when he opened the door he was greeted by you in pajama pants and a zip up hoodie, clearly also winding down for the night. 

“Hey,” you greeted. 

“Hi, what’s up? Is everything okay?” he asked, a bit concerned as to why you showed up at his hotel so late at night. He opened the door wider signaling you were welcome inside. You entered the room and stuffed your hands in your pockets as he closed the door. 

“I’m okay I just …” you cleared your throat. “I know this case has been a tough one but today’s been really hard for me. I’m still wired and awake, I can’t seem to relax enough to go to sleep,” You abruptly stopped your rambling to catch your breath. 

“This might sound dumb but, I’m in desperate need of a hug right now,” you finally admitted quietly.

He hated seeing you so timid and closed off. How you made yourself smaller than you were, all because you were asking for your basic needs to be met. 

“You don’t have to explain yourself.” 

“Huh?” 

“You don’t have to explain why you need a hug. You can just ask,” he said reassuringly. 

“Oh.” 

“Physical contact has been shown to increase levels of dopamine, serotonin, and even oxytocin; therefore, decreasing levels of stress and anxiety. Some people might even argue that physical touch is a fundamental element of being human and experiencing life.” His other way of trying to validate your feelings was of course rambling a string of facts and information from his fingertips. 

You couldn’t help but smile. God he loved it when you smiled. 

“So is that a yes?” you asked since you never exactly got an answer from your question in the first place. Even though you knew what his answer was. 

The corners of his lips turned into a grin. “Come here,” he says with outstretched arms. 

You practically ran into him at his offer. He wrapped his arms around you as you placed yours around his neck. He wished this moment could last forever. All while at the same time Morgan's previous statements were circling around in his head. 

He tried his best to push them away. He tried to tell himself this was not you acting on any potential feelings for him. This was simply you reaching out to a friend in need. 

He took note of the way you held onto him so tightly, almost as if he could leave at any second. It made his heart ache. 

“You feel tired,” he almost whispered. 

“I am,” you mumbled back, face buried in his neck. 

“Do you wanna lie down?” 

You lightly patted him on the back, “Don’t worry I’ll leave you be and go to sleep soon. I just need a minute 

“I meant … I meant do you want to lie down here?” He stammered. “So you’re not alone. You seem like you need a friend right now.” 

His own heart almost cracks when he says friend. But that’s what you need right now, a friend. 

“I’d like that,” you said with a small smile. 

You separate from him and he leads you to the bed holding your hand. He sits down against the headboard and waits for you to join him. 

You awkwardly sit down on the bed, eyes darting in all directions of where he’s sitting. “I- what should I …” 

“You could sit down the way you do on the jet,” he kindly offers. 

You relax at his words and move to sit at his side. He wraps his arm around you as you rest your head against his shoulder. You both sat there in a moment of silence, enjoying eachothers company. He was getting lost in the sweet smell of your perfume; the small bit of it that still lingers from the long day you’ve had. 

He started to recall all the times you two would be close like this. It didn’t happen very often. Sometimes on a long jet ride home from a long or stressful case. Or sometimes when the team went out for drinks and you would be tired from dancing. In the rare occasions you two were like this, you would tend to draw patterns on his arm or leg. 

So he decided to finally return the favor. With the arm he had wrapped around you, he started to dance his fingertips over your upper arm. 

He felt you practically melt into him at the action. If you could get any closer to him, you did. 

He continued tracing your arm with an overwhelming amount of care. It made you consider his previous actions compared to how welcome you were now in his arms. 

“Spencer, I’m gonna ask you something, and I need you to be completely honest with me,” you spoke with a hidden hesitation in your voice. 

“Of course I’ll be honest to you. I always will be,” he furrowed his brows at the thought of you being scared of him lying to you. 

You let out a small, almost shaky breath. “Am I clingy?” you murmured. 

This made his hand on your arm stop. He shifted his sitting position so he could face you better but also didn’t want to let you out of his hold. 

“No, never,” he told you with assurance. “Why would you think you’re clingy?” 

He saw you hesitate once more before you gave him your reply. “I was just overthinking things. Worried I was taking the physical contact thing too far or that I’m a bit too affectionate at times.“

“Why would you be worried? You’d never take things too far. You’ve always been respectful of other people’s boundaries.” 

You sighed with a shaky breath. He could practically see through you and see you considering your response. 

“Because I thought I was making you uncomfortable.” you looked down to avoid his gaze. 

He was quiet for a second, absolutely baffled as to how you would think you could ever make him uncomfortable. “Why?” His question was a barely audible whisper.  

“You seemed different. All of a sudden you would freeze when I touched you. You became jumpy and skittish when I talked to you. I thought I was too much for you but you didn’t want to tell me about it.” 

You shifted away to face him and his hand fell from your arm. You fidgeted with the sleeves of your hoodie as your face went blank. 

“You could never be too much for me,” he spoke with a soft voice. He tried to reach his hand out to hold yours but your hand disappeared in your sleeve at his touch. 

“Then why were you different all of a sudden?” You narrowed your eyes at him. 

His cheeks started to turn pink, “I- I wasn’t.” 

“Yes you were.” 

“Y/N please,” he begged. 

“Spencer,” you whispered as your eyes bore into his. “You said you’d be honest with me.” 

He licked his lips and his face turned red. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He couldn’t find an escape route. He had no choice but to tell you. And once the flood gate opened, he would never be able to close it. 

“I was freaking out,” he blurted. 

“I was freaking out because Morgan implanted this idea in my head that you might possibly have feelings for me based on the way you act around me. I’ve been obsessed with that thought since he mentioned it. So I freaked out almost every time you touched me, talked to me, even looked at me,” he rambled on anxiously as he tried to explain himself. No holding back now. 

“I tried not to let it change my behavior but I guess it did and I am so sorry for that. I never wanted to give you the impression that I was uncomfortable. To be honest I don’t think you could ever make me uncomfortable” 

You were silent for a moment. He couldn’t read your reaction. Your eyebrows slightly raised with your lips parted. He could only see surprise, which was typical, he just didn’t know if this kind of surprise was good. 

“Why were you so obsessed with the idea of me having feelings for you?” 

He could’ve sworn his heart was going to beat out of his chest at any moment. 

“Because I think I’m falling in love with you.”

 Here we go. Flood gates. 

“The idea you might like me back became an all consuming thought because I never before thought it was possible and I never wanted to get my hopes up. Actually, I pretty much think about you all the time so it wasn’t that far from normal. ” 

“You’re falling in love with me?” you asked barely above a whisper. 

“Yes,” he spoke softly with full confidence. 

The only change to your appearance was your eyes widened a bit more. It made Spencer's heart sink to his stomach. 

“Listen, I understand if this makes things weird between us and I am so sorry. I just couldn’t ..”

He couldn't finish his thought, you were too busy locking your lips with his. It was a sweet but cautious kiss, almost as if you were testing the waters in uncharted territory. You felt him freeze against you so you leaned away, breaking from the kiss. 

Not even seconds later Spencer placed a hand on your face and was diving back into the kiss with fervor. You instantly reacted as your arms found their way around his neck and your hand was digging in his hair. The kiss was intoxicating. Both of you trying to get a taste of the other after what felt like eons of pinning. 

He wrapped his arms around your waist while his one hand snuck up to the small of your back where your hoodie had exposed your skin. It sent a shiver up your spine while you let out a shaky breath against his lips. You tried shifting in your seat to somehow get closer to him. With his hands against your waist he helped guide you to sit in his lap straddling him. 

When you finally break from the kiss your faces are red and Spencer rests his forehead against yours. You focus on the sound of his breath and the feeling of your heart practically beating in your ears. 

Your hand moves to play with the hairs at the nape of his neck. “I guess I didn’t do a very good job at showing I had feelings for you.” 

The corners of his mouth lift up into a giddy smile. “No, you did. I’m just oblivious.”

“Sounded like you were in denial,” you lightly teased. 

“That too,” he chuckles. 

After a moment of enjoying each other's presence, you pull away from him just far enough to look him in the eyes. 

“I know I call everyone pet names, but every time I used them with you, I wanted it to mean something more. Part of me would always hope you would one day call me those names back,” 

Spencer swore his heart could give out at any second. He never expected to hear this from you and it made him lightheaded.

“This may sound childish but.. I never craved attention so badly, until you gave me yours,” you added. 

He licked his lips and smiled. With his hands still on your waist he traced mindless patterns at your sides. “You have my complete and undivided attention, my love.”

His words made you giddy. You bit your lip to keep yourself from giggling. Although, he would never be opposed to hearing your beautiful laugh. 

There were no words to describe the way that you felt. So without thinking, you leaned forward once more to capture his lips with yours. 

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

Tag Requests: @nomajdetective

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff

[luveline]

i NEED anything with glasses reid or munch reid i’m literally frothing at the mouth 🙏

ty for ur request :D fem!reader

"Emily," you say weakly. "What is that?" 

Emily looks up from her desk, clearly desperate for a distraction, the lip of her coffee mug against painted lips. "What's what?" 

"That." You point. You feel sick to your stomach. "That right there." 

"Oh," Emily says happily. "You finally noticed. Yeah, Spence forgot to renew his contact prescription. He has to wear glasses for two weeks." 

Spencer stands by the photocopier with a perturbed frown, clicking a button, then another. His brow is furrowed and his hair is falling into his eyes. He has the stupidest, dorkiest, prettiest face, and practically every expression he makes has you weak in the knees.

"That long?" you ask. 

Derek looks up in concern at your pained tone, following the line of your eyes. When he realises what it is that's hurt you so, he skirts around the desk to shake your shoulder. "You could always tell him how you feel. I'm sure he'd keep the lenses forever if he knew you liked them." 

"I don't like them," you say. You sound faraway to your own ears. You hate them. They're gonna be your demise. 

Spencer runs a fingertip across the photocopier's screen, in his own world as the machine finally begins to chug out whatever it is he'd been wanting a duplicate of. The frames of his glasses sit snug on his nose. You can tell from even this distance that the lenses make his eyes look a tiny bit smaller. You could probably point out a misplaced freckle if he asked you to.

"Don't be cruel, he looks cute," Emily teases. 

Spencer collects his papers, shuffling them into a straight line as he makes his way back to the bullpen. You pretend to take interest in Emily's things. She sips her coffee too nonchalantly. Derek doesn't even bother pretending. 

"What?" Spencer asks, swift to spot your suspicious behaviours. "Is it the glasses?" 

You wince. "Of course not. You look… you look really nice, Spence." 

"You know he used to wear 'em every day?" Derek asks.

You would've died. "Before I joined?" 

"For a few years," Spencer says, looking you over. "You're unhappy. Is something wrong?" 

He looks to Derek and Emily for confirmation. Emily stutters for an answer while Derek laughs in the background, "She– you know. She just– She missed breakfast!" 

Spencer pushes his glasses up his nose by the leg and drops his copies onto the desk. "I have dried apricot in my bag. Two seconds." 

He bends over his chair to retrieve his bag from under the desk. Your eyes blow wide at his position, the sudden demonstration of well-fitted pants. Derek's laugh echoes up to the eaves. 

"And he has that twenty four seven," Emily says against the rim of her coffee. 

You scrunch your eyes closed and tilt your head back. After a few seconds, a hand touches your elbow gently, a hesitance that comes with only one member of the BAU. "You okay?" Spencer asks. 

"I'm okay. Headache," you lie. 

Spencer presses the apricot into your hands. "Maybe you should see an optician. You know they can tell if you have a brain tumour from one photo of your sclera?" He smiles morbidly, his glasses slipping down his nose. "They measure the size of your optic disk. It takes less than a minute. I can give you the name of my doctor, if you want. She's nice. Not as nice as you." 

Your throat is so dry you can't form words to answer him. He doesn't judge your rigid nodding. 

"I'll write down the number for you. And, Y/N?" 

"Yeah?" you choke out. 

"You look really nice today, too." 

Emily has to kick you in the leg to bring you back to earth. Stupid Spencer. Stupid lovely glasses. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

[irndad]

a/n: continuation to this, but you don't necessarily have to read it first! all you need to know is reader got shot protecting maeve, and both survived. spencer has been in love with her the entire time.

“Have you called Maeve?” 

She asks it on a beautiful, rainy day, about five weeks after the event in question. She’s a little too nonchalant about the whole thing, has been from the start- Spencer’s been correcting for that. He’s been treating her like something fragile, a beautiful glass figure that was almost shattered. This is something he knows irritates her, but how can he not?

He tries not to think of it, but the memory of her in a hospital bed, bandages over her abdomen, the wooziness of giving her blood. He can’t help his caution, now. People assume, quite often that Spencer was unaware of the fact he’s in love with his best friend. Like it was something he didn’t know, didn’t have to live with. 

Spencer can be oblivious about a lot of things, but being in love with the person he’s shared a desk with for 4 years is not among them. 

“No,” he replies, looking up at her as she sits down, handing him the cup of tea she made him. They’re at his apartment. She’s been cleared for desk work, but Spencer had been nervous about the whole thing. They’ve fallen into a rhythm of her going to his apartment after work, and for how determined he is to tell her how he feels, he’s not really able to pluck up the courage.

“Spence,” she sighs, “You have to call her.”

“I did! When it happened, I called her. We talked. We just don’t talk anymore.”

She furrows her brow in an adorable way, and Spencer’s heart threatens to fall out of his chest. He’s been playing a game of she loves me, she loves me not in his mind for the. Past few weeks. 

Took a bullet to see me happy. She loves me. 

She stirs her ceramic spoon, the clink of it against the mug fills the silence. She bites her lip, clearly disappointed with his response. 

Wants me to call my not but kind-of ex. She loves me not.

She’s wearing this blue floral dress, and he is trying not to stare at where the fabric has ridden up, kissing the skin above her knee. She’s got lipstick on, and he tries not to read into how she’s sitting so close to him. Except he is kind of reading into it. 

Before she got hurt, he had tried to shove this feeling down- tried to ignore the swoop of his stomach when she walked by, or when she gave him a compliment, or when she let him do a card trick for her. He tried to shove down how much he fucking hated it the one time she had a date pick her up at the office. 

She’s just easy to be in love with. She writes little smiley faces on post-it notes and leaves them on his desk, and when the whole Emily thing had gone down, she’d spent weeks taking care of him through her own grief. 

She’s sitting on his couch. Five weeks ago, she was half-dead in a hospital bed, and now she is on his couch, in a beautiful dress after returning from the job they both share. 

He does not want to call Maeve. 

The comfortable silence turns tense as the episode of Doctor Who plays in the background, and he’s still a little gunshy- she’s breathing, she’s okay. He feels creepy, but he lets his eyes close for a moment so he can hear the sound of her breath, to know it’s still there.

“Spencer,” she says, after she pauses the show, and he turns fully to face her, “I am okay.” She grabs his hand, and he takes a couple of seconds to process the touch as she places it over her own wrist. ‘I am fine. They fixed me up. You are allowed to stop worrying.”

Her tone is even, but intentional. She’s giving him permission, as if his presence is some guilt-driven notion that’s stopping him from getting what he really wants. It’s true, though, that he doesn’t always believe she’s okay. Notices how she’ll wince when she bends a certain way, and the scar by her eyebrow is healing well, but he still searches for it in her face.

He savors the feeling of the soft skin of her wrist under his touch, running his fingers over the junction of her hand and wrist with delicate affection. How she hasn’t figured out he’s in love with her is anyone’s guess. 

He wonders what it would feel like to kiss her there.

“I know I can call her,” he manages to say back, meeting her warm gaze in a maybe too honestly in love glance, “I’m where I want to be.”

“Before I got hurt, you picked out an outfit, you asked for advice on dating, Spencer. You did that. I just-“ she sighs, moving her hand from his grasp and pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration, “The piece of you that wanted that is obviously still there. You don’t have to spend a Friday night with me in your apartment because you feel guilty that I got shot.”

“You’re not here because I’m guilty-“

“Then why-“

“You’re in my apartment right now because I am in love with you, and if you’re out of my sight for more than twelve hours than it’s like I forget that you’re still alive. That you didn’t get yourself killed before I ever got the chance to actually tell you.”

He’s not yelling. Well, he’s kind of yelling. Talking loudly, anyway. Her eyes widened and he’s hyperaware of how close she already was, is. She smells like lilies and her, and it’s all so present. She could have died. She might have never heard it. 

She’s heard it now, he supposes. All the weeks of agonizing, notebooks he’s managed to fill in the last few weeks trying to figure out a way to say it to her that could charm her into loving him back- all gone. He’s told her, now. 

All the cards are in her hands.

Her doe eyes almost sparkle at him, her head tipped to the side in a fond, loving gesture, and he wants to kiss her, wants to feel her faded-lipstick pout against his mouth. He wants his I love you to turn into I can have this. 

“Spence,” her voice is a trembling, insecure thing. One half of his mind wants to rage at him- there’s no way she’s going to tell him she loves him back, that someone like her could ever want someone like him. But the other half, one that seems dangerously like hope- she took a bullet for him. She didn’t even think twice. “You’re in love with me?”

It’s like it’s not even him who replies. Some bitter thing takes over his voice and speaks for him. 

“How could I not be? It’s you.”

It’s then he notices, that oh, she’s tearing up. 

A beat passes, and Spencer sucks in a deep breath before rambling an absurd amount. 

“You don’t have to- We can still be friends, obviously, you know that. But we can, I just- I needed to tell you because when you were in that hospital bed and you’d never heard me say it, I just couldn’t live with you never knowing. But now you do, and you don’t feel the same, and that’s okay-“

He doesn’t get to keep talking, because she grabs him by the collar of his shirt and kisses him. She’s warm and beautiful and her hair brushes up against his cheek and there’s something in him that takes over when he moves to  cradle her head between his hands, both desperate to keep her in his grasp and savor the moments he gets to hold her. She tastes like cherry chapstick and something completely undefinable. 

When she pulls away after a moment that feels entirely too short, heavy lidded eyes meeting his in affection, and Spencer thinks he’d like to do that for the rest of his life. 

“I love you too,” she says back, and he commits it to memory, the sound of her so-sweet voice wrapping around the words he’s fantasized about hearing since the first time she smiled at his joke about philosophy. “I’ve loved you a really, really long time, Spence. I just thought I lost my chance, you know with- with everything. I never really thought I had one.”

He can’t even speak, really. He doesn’t think he can wrap his head around the fact that she felt like he wouldn’t like her back. 

It doesn’t feel like a concern, now, when he leans in to kiss her again. She smiles into him, and Spencer memorizes the feel of her waist encircled in his arms, when he realizes that this is the heart he is able to hold without limits. 

She loves me too, he thinks. She is safe, she is okay, and she loves me back. 

On the following Monday, when Morgan sees the two of them with linked hands before Hotch gets to the office, he doesn’t say anything. 

He does hand Emily 20 dollars, though. 

#spencer reid #spencer Reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfic

[januaryembrs]

BLACK CAT GIRLFRIEND | Spencer Reid x reader

request: Hey Congratulations on the 2K! Do you think you could write something with Spencer Reid and a Reader who has lots of tattoos and/or piercings? Like she's the whole "bad girl" stereotype but Spencer and her complement each other so well and have a very sweet and mature relationship. I would love something like that.

description: the team meet Spencer's new girlfriend and she doesn't look quite like they'd imagined

word count: 1.1k

main masterlist

authors note: I officially hit 2k followers this morning!! see my post here for requesting but lets start this milestone off with a bang!! thankyou so much :))))))

Morgan had to admit, you weren’t exactly what he’d envisioned when Pretty Boy had been talking his ear off for months about the girl in his apartment building that had slipped him your number. He wasn’t judgemental, not by a longshot, but Spencer had always seemed like the type to date the preppy, library geek, or even the cutesy geneticist if Maeve had been anything to go off of. 

It’s not like you weren’t hot, he could see that you were a mile away, but you looked like you’d sooner break someone’s wrist for so much as talking to you than fall for their resident genius. 

You smiled tightly, shaking Derek’s hand with a crushing grip, as Spencer introduced you to his team, the obnoxiously loud bass almost drowning out his words as the six of you stood in the bar. 

“Nice to meet you, Spencer talks about you all the time,” You said politely, and no sooner had you let go of the man’s warm hand, two arms were thrown over your shoulders and you were tugged into a hug. 

“I’m Penelope- oh you’re so pretty, Morgan isn’t she so pretty? You should marry Spencer then you can be boyfriend girlfriend for, like, life-” The perky voice was all a jumble as the blonde pulled away, cupping your face, rubbing down your arms kindly, sweetly, like you were swallowing a warm spoon of honey. 

“Penelope, newbie rules, remember,” Emily chimed in, seeing your eyes widen at the sudden intrusion of personal space. She could see this ending with the pretty pink bows Garcia had plaited her hair in torn to shreds on the sticky floor, right next to her long barbie locks if your intimidating figure was anything to go off, “Not everyone likes hugs,”

“No, no,” You replied, smiling gently at the woman who was softer than cotton candy, “Hugs are nice,” 

“We’re going to be very best friends, I can feel it, which is funny because my tarot actually said I’d meet a strong Taurus woman- or are you a Scorpio-” Penny’s smile was dazzling, but she was soon ushered to let go of the bear like grip she had on your shoulders by a chuckling Morgan.

“Let the other kids play with her, babygirl,” He said, and you were pulled in another direction towards Emily who gave a polite handshake. 

“Nice ink,” She said with raised brows as she saw the intricate sketches that covered the back of your hands, trailing up your arm and under the band tee you wore. She knew who they were, though they only dragged up memories of her own days of thick eyeliner and rebelling against her mother. “They must have hurt like a bitch, I got one on my hip and could barely sit for one hour,” 

You snickered, nodding, seeing her eyes trailing over the ones on your ankles and knees where your ripped jeans flashed them all. 

“Bones hurt the most, though the one on my ass is up there for the worst ones,” You replied, and Penny’s brows shot into her hairline, though she giggled like a schoolgirl being told a secret.

“I think we’re gonna need to see the proof on that one,” Morgan teased flirtily, the way he always did, the way he did even with JJ who had a whole child and partner, because it was his natural state of being. 

Spencer smiled as his team warmed to you, though he was quick to pull you to him with a gentle arm around the waist. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Derek, that man was practically his brother, he’d taken bullets for the guy, but he liked having you close, even if to just remind himself that you were all his, including said tattoo on your buttcheek that he’d seen plenty of times. 

The team didn’t need to know that, but you could tell your words had reminded him of it as he pressed a shy kiss behind your ear.

He was careful to avoid the studs and links that glittered from your ear lobe, wrapping over the cartilage on your helix, though he loved to stare at them on nights where you tied your hair up and he could count every one of them. To him you were a work of art, complex and detailed with every glance he stole. You were an illustration in one of his many books, everything he imagined for himself times a million. 

“I’m going to go get a drink, do you want one?” You said, looking up at him with puppy eyes, like a lovestruck teenager, fat adoration in your gaze. It oozed out of every inch of you, and JJ thought for a moment that you looked nothing like the scary doberman woman that Spence had originally brought over to meet them. You looked in love, the saccharine, soft and dazed kind of in love. 

“Let me get it for you,” Spencer rooted around his pocket for his wallet, turning to see Morgan’s beer bottle running low, “You having another one?”

“I’m good, my man, you just sort yourself and your lady out,” Derek flashed him a thousand watt smile and clapped him on the shoulder as you entwined your fingers with his, pulling him through the cluster of people and towards the bar, “What a stud,” 

Penelope giggled again, leaning towards her adonis best friend with honeyglow cheeks, watching their genius get led like a dog on a leash. 

“Oh lover boy had got it bad,” She drawled, watching Reid, their Reid, develop an uncharacteristically protective stance as a few men at the bar shot looks up and down your body. She couldn’t blame them either, you were a sight for sore eyes. “Okay, so do I have to be the first one to point out how hot she is or have I maybe had one too many margaritas?” 

“She seems nice,” JJ chose her words carefully, still not entirely sure she would have ever put the two of you together but she saw the way Spence’s eyes got round and longing when he looked over you. He’d clearly said something to make you laugh, and an inked hand raised up to brush his chocolate curls out of his face lovingly, “She seems good for him,”

A murmur of agreement ran through the four of them, Emily taking one more sip of her martini as her eyes roved over your figure returning with something fruity and colourful, “Anyone else dying to know what’s on her ass?” 

-

#Spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic

[headkiss]

hellooo, hope everything's okay with you:) i was thinking of a hotch request, of bau!reader being "his favourite" in the team (in a way that the team can see he has a soft spot for her). maybe the members of the team seeing little interactions between them two and noticing it <33 i just *loved* the one you wrote about hotch helping her in a bau party, and would love to see more of hotch protecting her and being soft with her, during the jobs as well!! thank you so muchhhh, hope you have a good day x

hiii thank u so much baby!!! this has been in my drafts since september i’m so sorry for the delay!! i hope this is okay <3 | 0.6k of fluff

Aaron Hotchner was never one to play favorites. He’s always loved his team, has always felt fond towards its members in one way or another, but none ever seemed to outrank the other.

Until you.

You’d joined the BAU as a temporary replacement, and then, you just stayed. You fit right in, which wasn’t hard to do considering how welcoming everyone had been, but it still felt like the kind of luck that isn’t easy to come by.

Hotch has felt a sort of pull towards you ever since you stepped into the bureau, your shirt a little wrinkled, smile nervous and beautiful. He’s grown to feel for you in a way that doesn’t compare to how he feels towards the others. It’s completely different; incomparable.

Even now, over a year since you’ve joined the team, Hotch can’t help but feel like he has to protect you, has to make sure you’re okay.

The others know it, too.

Derek has taken to doing his very own Hotch impression, a lovestruck version of him, that is. Spencer tells Aaron daily that he should just tell you how he feels. Emily likes to say, ‘you’re going soft, Hotchner.’ And all he can do is fight a smile and shake his head.

Even now, in some town in Indiana, Aaron can’t help but look for you in the busy station. It’s early in the morning, he’s got two cups of coffee in hand. One for him, the other for you.

“Aw, thanks, you shouldn’t have,” Derek says, reaching for one of the coffees.

“You know that’s not for you, Morgan.”

Pretending to be hurt, Derek walks off towards Spencer, a ‘can you believe him?’ look on his face. Hotch vaguely registers Spencer’s voice saying something like, “I believe that’s what they call favoritism.”

Then, the conversation goes quiet for Aaron’s ears, because he sees you. You’ve got a sweater on today, the sleeves long enough that only your fingertips poke out. His feet are walking towards you before his brain processes it.

Before he reaches you, an officer from the station does. “Hey, miss, reporters aren’t allowed inside.”

You take a step back, eyebrows furrowing at the man questioning your presence, “I’m not a reporter. They cleared me at the door.”

“Nice try, sweetheart, I’ve heard it all before-“

“Agent,” Hotch steps in, trying not to squeeze the coffee cups too hard. “Good morning, coffee for you.”

Your gaze softens as soon as it flicks from the officer and over to Hotch. Your fingers brush when you grab the drink from him, sparks shooting up your arm.

“Thank you, Agent Hotchner.”

“Is there a problem here, officer?” Aaron asks, tilting his head.

“No, no, sir. Thank you for coming down and helping out.”

“It’s what we do,” Hotch emphasizes the ‘we,’ like he’s making sure the officer knows that you’re as much a part of this as he is.

The officer nods and walks off, leaving the two of you as alone as you can be in the station.

“Thank you, Aaron,” you say, nudging your elbow against his arm gently. “I totally could’ve handled it, though.”

He smiles because you’re the only one on the team who calls him Aaron. He likes it that way.

“I know, honey.” And he’s the only one who calls you honey. “But I didn’t really feel like explaining why one of my agents punched an officer today.”

“I was not going to punch him!” You laugh, your morning getting better by the second. “Maybe berate him a little. That’s all.”

“Sure it is.”

When you and Aaron walk into the conference room where the rest of the team is waiting, you’re met with the same type of stare from all of them. Knowing, expecting, secretly admiring.

You duck your head and take a sip of your coffee, forever grateful that you joined this team, that you found these people, that Aaron is beside you where you always seem to want him to be.

“They’re hopeless,” Emily whispers to Spencer.

Aaron’s too busy looking at your face to hear.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner blurbs #aaron hotchner imagines #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch fluff #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x bau!reader #hotch blurbs #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds hotch #hotch criminal minds #aaron hotchner comfort #hotch x reader #hotch x you

[miley1442111]

safe- a.hotchner

a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

you and aaron have jack (obvi) and a daughter, ellie. :) (1.4k + words)

summary: you become an unsubs target

pairing: husband/dad aaron hotchner x wife/mother reader

warnings: general cm minds topics, knives, stitches, head wounds, trauma talk of harm coming to the team, the reader is harmed, etc.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

There you stood, your own blood as well as another's blood all over your body. 

What happened? 

You were just leaving work, you were going to pick up Jack and Ellie on your way home. It was taco night, you three would cook together tonight, though since Aaron was on a case a few states over, you would be the only ones doing it. So, how did that exact same unsub get to you?

You sat in the ambulance, stitches going into your skin, but you weren’t even flinching, you didn’t even feel it. You knew Jack and Ellie were expecting you, so was Jessica. 

“Can I make a phone call?” You whispered to the paramedic. She nodded her head, sympathy on her face. “Thank you.”

You pulled out your phone as she finished the stitches in your head, moving onto the ones in your arms. 

“Hey Jess,” You sighed into the phone. 

“Hey, is everything alright?” she asked. “Do you want me to take Jack and Ellie for the night?” 

You could honestly cry at her generosity. “Yes please, thank you so much Jess.”

“No problem,” she smiled, worried from the other line. “Are you hurt?” she whispered. 

“I’ll be ok, someone just… yeah,’ you sighed. “Tell Jack and Ellie I love them, yeah?”

“Always.”

You hung up. The paramedic finished up and the officer who had been sitting with you for the past few minutes escorted you to a squad car and brought you to the station, informing you that the FBI were on their way. The FBI, really? Surely it wasn’t Aaron, right?

God, you missed Aaron. You’d never wanted to see him more in your life. Just to know he was ok, that he was there. 

Such luxuries could not be afforded at that current moment. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aaron sat beside David on the plane, exhaustion pulling at his eyes as Spencer read out the latest attack. 

“Oh, apparently there was one survivor,” Spencer said. “That might be his next target.”

“We should look into them, what’s the name?” David asked as Aaron yawned. 

“Y/n Y/l/n, she has a son, daughter, and husband,” Spencer said, and Aaron was wide-awake again. 

“Pardon?” He asked, hoping he’d heard wrong. 

“Y/n Y/l/n. She was beaten pretty badly and had a head wound and a stab to the arm, she’s at the station now. SHe agreed to a cognitive interview. She’s a professor of nuclear physics at a university nearby-” Spencer reads off. 

“She has more pHds than boy genius, 5 and counting,” Penelope interrupts him from the screen. 

“Well, she is older than me,” he stressed, attempting to keep some of his pride. 

“By what, 4 years?” Emily snorted, the rest of the team laughed, but Aaron was frozen. 

A head wound? You got stabbed? He felt faint. Immediately, he reached into his pocket to grab his phone, trying to call you. 

You didn’t pick up.

He tried again as the team stared at him in bewilderment. What was he doing?

No answer again.

“Sir-”

“I want a profile before we leave this plane,” he ordered and the team all stared at him. “Is that too much for you?” He asked snarkily. They all shook their heads and began breaking off into groups to work. Aaron stayed seated, a million thoughts running through his head at once. Was Jack ok? Was Ellie ok? How much blood did you lose? Was the unsub already on his way to you again? Were you a target because of him?

“Hotch I think we have something,” Morgan stated after 30 minutes. “The unsub is targeting women with the same description as the survivor. I'd say he’s a college student who is jealous of her husband. He’s formed a parasocial relationship and obsession with her and his delusions have led him to hurt those closest to her. It makes sense she’s beautiful, described as being extremely kind and caring about her students, she’s ridiculously intelligent, and apparently she and her husband are madly in love with each other. What’s her husband’s name Pen?” Derek asked, looking at the computer. 

“Aaron Hotchner,” she said, a gasp following her words. Aaron looked up, meeting the eyes of the team as they stared back, shocked. 

He could deal with them later. 

“Send police to Jessica's house,” he ordered before he got up to go to the back of the plane for a moment of peace. He took out his phone, dialling Jessica’s number.

“Hey, is Y/n ok?” She asked. “I have Jack and Ellie right now, are you with her?”

“Not yet, I’ve sent police to your house, just as extra protection, ok?”

“Alright Aaron. Take care of her when you see her, she seemed pretty shaken.”

“Course,” he gritted out and hung up. This was going to be difficult. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You sat in an office, a cop’s jacket strung over your shaking shoulders. You were still covered in blood, you still saw the horrible image of one of your students being killed in front of you.

Where was Aaron? 

 “Can I go and clean up?” You sniffled, asking the sheriff who was sitting at his desk beside you. 

“Course sweetheart,” she smiled softly. “There’s a bathroom down the hall, if you want a shower there’s one in the training centre.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, feeling smaller than you ever had. You were told to be careful with your stitches and that you’d be brought into the hospital in the morning once all of the stuff with the station was over. You walked down the hall to the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror, staring at your bloodstained face and clothes. The tears started falling, going down the drain with a red-tinge. 

You grabbed some tissue, wet it, and started scrubbing your face. The ache of your body was nothing to the turmoil in your head. Was it your fault one of your students was killed? Was Jack ok? Was Ellie ok? Was Aaron ok? 

You didn’t even notice him coming behind you until he took the tissue out of your hand. He discarded it, damped the towel from his go-bag in his hand, lightly washing your face. Tears fell freely as he did so, but he wiped them away, a comforting hand on your lower back as you wrapped your arms around his neck. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your clean cheek. He continued his gentle cleaning, bringing it down to your neck.

“I’m sorry too.” 

He smiled softly. “You don’t have to apologise for anything.”

“Neither do you, but we do it anyway.”

His emotions became too much all of a sudden, the feeling of nearly losing you becoming unthinkable. 

“I love you so much,” he whispered.  

“I love you too.”

After Aaron sufficiently cleaned as much of the blood off of you as he could, he took your blood-stained shirt off and replaced it with one of his extra dress shirts. Walking outside the bathroom, you felt eyes on the both of you. You recognised some of the team from stories and photos Aaron had shown you. They stared as Aaron wrapped you into his side and walked you back into the sheriff’s office. 

“I want the kids,” you admitted. “I know we shouldn’t but I’m so worried that they're not ok,” you cried into his bicep as he sat beside you. 

“I’ll send one of the team to grab them and Jess,” he nodded.

“Please don’t leave,” you whimpered, holding onto him for dear life. You needed him. 

“Of course not, honey,” he soothed. He signalled for Derek to come in. He walked in, careful of your feelings. “Will you go to Jessica’s house and pick up Jessica, Jack, and Ellie?”

“Of course sir, but… who’s Ellie?” he whispered the last part. 

“My daughter,” Aaron said and Derek went wide-eyed.

“I’ll be right back with them,” he promised. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Darling, do you feel up to telling me about it? Or even just something?" he whispered against your skin.

"I know who did it," you whispered back. You felt such guilt. You knew the unsub, he was one of your students Andrew. Andrew was obsessed with you, with your life, but you just took it as a student being interested in your life to get out of work. You didn't pay enough care to the way his interest dampened when you spoke about Aaron and when you talked about your anniversaries or dates.

"Honey-"

"His name's Andrew. He's in my chemical sciences class."

Aaron was silent for a moment. "Alright. I'll send officers his way."

"I'm so stupid, I didn't even realise-" you started but Aaron shushed you with a gentle kiss.

"Don't talk about my wife like that," he joked. You chuckled softly and he felt a sense of great accomplishment.

"I'm so glad you're here," you sighed into his neck.

"I'm so glad I'm here too."

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You're married?" Derek asked.

"Yes," Aaron admitted as he ran a hand through your hair as you lay on his lap asleep, Ellie and Jack playing by the sheriff's desk.

`'And you have another child," Penelope said, shock apparent in her voice and facial expression.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Spencer asked.

"I wanted to keep her safe," Aaron smiled. "I also just assumed you'd figure it out. Clearly you're not all as good as you think you are," he chuckled.

The team collectively rolled their eyes, but still smiled. Aaron was happy, you were safe, another unsub was awaiting jail, and they could almost feel the love radiating off of Aaron.

All was well.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :)

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #bau team #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fanfiction #david rossi #derek morgan #spencer reid #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch fanfiction

[confused-pyramid]

I’d Like to Think That You Would Stick Around | s6

pairing: aaron hotchner x childhood bsf!reader

summary: Hotch and his childhood best friend working together at the BAU: a slow burn across the seasons.

word count: 15.5k

warnings: SMUT, oral (m!receiving), masturbation, canon!typical violence, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, guns, drinking, angst, specific episodes mentioned in this part are 6x06, 6x08, 6x17, and 6x18.

a/n: Sorry for the long wait guys, school has been kicking my ass, but here's the next part! We're getting a lot of angst this chapter, but we're so so close to the good times ;) Hope you enjoy! Title is from Love Song by Lana Del Rey

series masterlist

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You are talking to Prentiss across the bullpen, laughing about something he can't hear, and he's freaking out. He shouldn't have left that night. He knows that. He just didn't know what else to do.

Never mind the fact that he has no idea how much you remember.

When you bumped into him on the way out of the elevator this morning, he swears you jumped back, but then you smiled at him, and he was able to convince himself that it was all fine. So why does it still feel like you are avoiding him?

He can still picture the dark expanse of your pupils as you leaned in closer after stumbling into him; he can still feel the rush of your breath as your gaze met his and his fingers tightened on your hip.

He walks into his office, before sitting at his desk and dropping his head into his hands. His blinds are just shut enough that no one from down in the bullpen can see into his office, and he welcomes the privacy as he rubs a hand over his face and forces his eyes away from the photograph of the two of you on his desk.

'Aaron...'

Your voice had sounded so soft, so hurt-

He shuts his eyes again and tries to think about anything else (maybe even the paperwork he's supposed to have been doing for an hour now) but every time he blinks, he sees your face again.

He has suspected the shift in your feelings for a little while now, but that night at the bar confirmed something he isn't sure he's ready to handle. He feels it too - of course he does - but he can't think about it. He can't.

He's floundering with Jack, with trying to be there for both him and the team, and he just lost Haley. God, he just lost Haley, and the idea of losing you too because he fucks it up just like he did with her is unimaginable. They were together for decades - they had a child together - and still he couldn't give her what she needed. Your friendship means everything to him, and if he does something to ruin your relationship too, he wouldn't be able to live with himself.

He glances out his window and sees you still talking to Emily, both of your heads now bent down to look at an open case file. She says something to you, and your face lights up as you grin at her. Something that feels like lava pools in his gut and he swallows thickly as he turns back to his paperwork.

***

You head back to your desk and drop the case file down as you resist the urge to glance up at his office window. He hasn't looked at you once today, and you can't help it as your mind goes to the worst case scenario of losing him forever because of one stupid moment.

You had considered pretending that you don't remember anything from the bar, but he just left you there. That isn't something you can forget so easily, and even as you're trying to ignore it, you don't want to avoid him. But it isn't that simple.

You're simultaneously hurt and embarrassed, but it isn't even your own feelings that are at the forefront of your mind. You haven't been to his place in over a week, and you miss Jack and you miss him. You haven't gone this long without talking to him in years. 

Fuck.

***

Your quest to stay out of trouble results in you staying late at the office to get ahead on all of your work. Most nights you were staying even later than JJ and Aaron, but then JJ got sent to the DoD as a media liaison, and the work started piling up.

You did what you could to intercept some of the paperwork before it landed on his desk, especially since Jack was so close to starting preschool and you know Aaron wants to take any extra moment of face time he can get, but it wasn't a foolproof system.

That's why it's almost midnight after getting back from a case in Ohio, and Aaron's office light is still on. Knowing it's about time you broke the cone of silence you've been under, you walk up the stairs, giving yourself ample time to change your mind.

A minute later, you knock on his door, before pushing it open gently, waiting to see the look on his face.

"Oh, you're still here," he says, his eyes lingering on you for an extra moment before turning back to his work. "Come in."

You shut the door behind you and sit in the chair in front of his desk. It doesn't sink like it usually does, and it takes you a second to realize that he finally replaced it. After all this time...

"Are you heading home soon?" you ask, trying to feign nonchalance. You can't remember the last time you overthought every single thing you said to him.

Yes, you do, your brain mocks you. A film reel of your awkward senior year of high school starts playing in your mind and one lone thought sticks out among the cacophony of memories. You loved him.

"Yeah, I'm almost done," he says with a sigh, his eyes still trained on his paper.

You frown. "Really?"

"No."

That surprises a chuckle out of you and you lean forward in the chair. It's stiffer than you're used to, and it creaks as you slide in closer. "Want any help?"

He shakes his head. "You should head home. It's late."

You don't say anything and when he finally meets your eye, you shoot him a look.

He sighs, begrudgingly handing you a stack of files. "With JJ gone, it's been a little hectic. I have to go through the new cases coming in, as well as completing the post-case paperwork."

"Shit," you whisper, not knowing what else to say. Even as you tried to cut down his workload, it wasn't even scratching the surface. "I didn't realize that was all on you."

"Yeah, for the time being," he shrugs, raking a hand through his hair to push it back, even as it bounces right back into place. "But it'll be easier when they bring us someone new."

That stops you in your tracks. "How new? Because you know I really liked Jordan, but she was too green for the BAU."

"Newer," he says, his voice tinged with amusement. "They're considering some Academy cadets who are finishing up their remedial training."

"Cadets?" you echo, your voice rising an octave. "They're babies."

"They're at least 25," he states, the corner of his lip twitching. "Besides, their remedial training would have been with the BAU, so they'll know what they're getting into."

They'll know what they're getting into.

It's not a dig, but the juvenile corner of your brain hangs onto his words, trying to make out some double meaning.

"That's some relief, I guess." You flip open the first file, trying to pay attention as you scan the brief, but it just reminds you of how much you miss JJ.

"She was so much better at this," you groan, flipping the page. "I'm not sure anyone can replace her."

"I'm definitely sure that no one can," Aaron says simply as he glances up at you, "but we'll take any help we can get at this point."

There's a layer of subtext behind his tone, and you don't know if you're equipped to decipher it right now, after being up for almost 24 hours. Nevertheless, you don't give in as he looks at you, refusing to break eye contact. 

Please be okay, your mind begs as the corners of his eyes crinkle. Please say I didn't fuck this all up.

His eyebrows raise slightly, checking in on you for the first time in so so long, and another thought takes over your mind. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Blinking away the thought, you nod, but you can't stop yourself as you clarify, "It's just a temp assignment, right?"

He finishes the sentence he was writing before looking up. "Yes. It's only temporary."

***

"Daddy, don't look at me."

Jack's voice filters out from his bedroom and he looks at Jess with a small laugh as she pretends to lock her lips and toss away the key.

"I'm not looking," he calls out. "Are you almost ready?"

There's a small sound of affirmation from down the hall, so he stands up from the couch and reaches for the little jack-o-lantern bag that Jack wanted to use for trick-or-treating.

When he looks up, his son is emerging from his room, dressed incredibly unlike the comic book character he wanted to be for Halloween.

"Whoa," Aaron says, his voice a low rumble. "That is definitely not Spider-Man."

Jack just shrugs. "He's not a real superhero."

"He's not?" He looks at his son again, trying to discern which superhero wears a suit. "Okay. I give up. Who are you supposed to be?"

The answer is immediate. "I'm you, Daddy."

Jess nudges his shoulder with a laugh before she walks forward and swings Jack into the air. "You look just like him, bud!"

He opens his mouth to add onto that sentiment, but his throat thickens with emotion and he has to clear his throat to get a word out. "You tied my tie so well." It's the best he can do with his eyes burning. All he wanted was for his son to feel safe and loved. Maybe I'm doing something right.

"Alright, buddy," Jess smiles, setting him down. "Grab your coat and shoes and we'll head out."

Jack runs off and she smiles at him again, crossing her arms over her chest. "You're a great dad."

"Thank you," he says simply, his lips curving up into a smile. She says it a lot, but for the first time in a while, he's finally starting to believe it.

Jess opens her mouth to say something, but she pauses for an extra second, piquing his interest. "I haven't seen Y/N around here in a little bit."

There it is. He should've seen it coming. "Yeah, she's just busy."

His words don't sound convincing, even to his own ears, and Jess shoots him a look to match. "I happen to know you quite well, Aaron. So if you're overthinking something you shouldn't be, let me be the first to say, you're being an idiot."

He lets out a surprised snort. "Thanks, Jessica."

"I'm just saying," she shrugs, tucking a strand of curly hair behind her ear. "I see things...and I know both of you, so it's not hard to read into things."

He takes a deep breath, pushing his hair back from his forehead. "It's not like that."

He expects her to push back, but she just presses her lips together and shrugs her coat on. "Either way, Haley saw it too...and she seemed happy about it."

Before he has a chance to fully process her words, Jack rushes out, barreling into him. "I'm ready!"

"Alright, my little G-man," he grins, pushing her words out of his head for the night. "Let's go get some candy."

***

Things have been shifting at the office. Ever since JJ left, the team has felt smaller, and with your unintentional (okay, maybe a little intentional) avoidance of Aaron, the office hasn't felt the same in a long time.

Everyone has been taking on more than they're used to, and when Penelope had to fill in for JJ in a press conference during your last case, you couldn't help but notice how she turned to Aaron for support whenever she felt unprepared.

Your curiosity about their shared secret was eating at you all day, until you received a mass email from him to the whole team. Re: Garcia's play, Tolgate Theater, 8pm

You didn't have any plans tonight anyway, and after long days in a seemingly endless rotation of slacks and blazers, you welcome the chance to dress up a little bit. It's not like you go out often (or at all) unless it's with the team.

Pushing to the back of your closet, you rifle through the longer dresses and gowns you own, before landing on a light green, silk number. It has a halter neckline that drapes loosely around your neck, and you haven't worn it since before Jeff died, because it always felt like too much.

But Emily messaged you after getting home with a photo of her dress too, and even though it may be a lot for a little neighborhood theater, you're excited about something for the first time in a long while.

After putting on the dress and doing your makeup a bit darker than usual, you grab your keys and head out.

~

He got to the theater a bit earlier than the rest of the team, mostly to apologize to Garcia and warn her about the onslaught of support she was going to be getting, but he also wanted to get there before you did, so he could save a seat for you beside him.

From an outsider's perspective, he imagines there wouldn't seem to be anything different or wrong with your relationship, but he has been feeling the frustrating tension between the two of you since that night out.

Speaking with Jess on Halloween felt like a welcome reprieve from his cycle of self-loathing, and he finally feels more free than he has in ages.

Emily, Derek, and Spencer arrive a short while later, and he points them toward the seats he booked out, before heading back to the lobby, where family and friends of the performers are milling around.

When Dave arrives, he's also dressed in a suit. "We certainly clean up nicely."

He coughs out a laugh. "I haven't pulled this suit out in years."

"Well, aside from the cobwebs," Dave jokes, brushing an imaginary piece of dust from his shoulder, "you look classy."

"Thanks," he smiles, patting the older man's arm. "You should head inside. We're sitting about halfway up."

"You coming?" Dave asks as he steps around him.

Aaron shakes his head, glancing back at the door again. "I'm going to wait for...everyone to get here. I'll meet you inside."

He nods, before smacking his shoulder once and walking into the theater. When Dave's out of sight, he turns back around and pulls his phone out, trying to look busy.

He scrolls through a couple of his latest emails before tucking his phone away. The front door of the theater opens then, and when he looks up, all of the air leaves his lungs.

It feels like the world is moving in slow motion as you glide inside, your dress billowing down as the breeze from outside settles. You look incredible, and he feels like a teenager again, when he was so in love with you he couldn't breathe.

He watches you glance around, clearly searching for a familiar face, so he walks up, approaching you slowly to give you time to notice him.

"Oh, hi!" you say, your lips curving up into a smile as he tucks a hand into his pocket. "Am I late?"

"Not at all," he says, hating how strained his voice sounds. "The play starts at the top of the hour."

"Perfect," you smile, removing your shawl from your shoulders and folding it in your hands. "You clean up well, by the way."

There's a slight tinge of humor in your voice, and you're looking at him expectantly, likely waiting for him to lead you to the seats, but he can't move. He's terrified of what he's feeling, but you look amazing, and he's surrounded by people he doesn't know, so he doesn't overthink it as he reaches out and slips a hand onto your waist.

You clearly aren't expecting it as he pulls you in closer, his fingers sliding across the silkiness of your dress. You smell like flowers, and he can't help himself as he leans in to press a kiss to your cheek. "You're beautiful."

Reality doesn't set in until he lets you go. Your cheeks are slightly flushed and he can't think straight, but the moment you step away from him and head to theater doors, the fog clears.

What is he doing?

The rational part of his brain takes over and he mumbles a curse under his breath before jogging forward to follow you inside. At least for the time being, he has the play to cover himself, but when morning comes, and brings with it the harsh light of day, he's fucked.

***

His skin is burning. The temperature in his office feels like it has been turned all the way up, but even as he undoes his cufflinks and rolls his sleeves back, the heat doesn't abate.

He is loosening his tie when his office door opens, revealing you in your rumpled button down and slacks. He opens his mouth to ask why you're still here, but before he can get a word out, you're shutting the door behind you and locking it.

"What are you doing?" he asks as you saunter over to him, stepping around his desk and pressing your hands to the armrests of his chair. "Y/N, it's late-"

"Shut up," you say firmly, twisting his chair toward you with a strong pull. He moves to get up, but you push his shoulder down to keep him in his chair.

He already doesn't know what to say, but every thought leaves his brain as you sink down to your knees before him.

"Don't move," you whisper, your eyes glinting up at him as you deftly undo the buckle of his belt and yank his pants open. "I'm in charge now."

He lets out a gasp as you tug his pants down in one go, and before he can do anything, your fingers are on him. Your lips curve into a smile as his breath hitches, and even with the thin fabric of his boxers between you two, the sensations coursing through him feel so magnified and new.

He is already hard as a rock, and you've barely even touched him. Teasingly slow, you pull his boxers down, watching as his cock springs free from the confines. Without wasting another second, you run your tongue up his length, and he grits his teeth to keep the groans in his throat from spilling out.

Your lips slowly close around his tip and the wet heat makes his head fall back as he tries to calm his breathing down. His chest is heaving like he just went for a run, but when you hollow your cheeks around him, he can't keep the moan inside. He loses control for a moment as he reaches forward to grasp onto your hair, but that only seems to spur you on, as you bob your head even faster.

The wet sounds of your mouth sliding over his cock fill the office, and he clutches his armrest with one hand and uses the other to guide your head.

He's already so close, and the soft grip of your hands on his thighs aren't helping as he tries to hold off, to prolong this feeling. At the last second, you swirl your tongue around the tip, and he chokes out a gasp, but then-

His eyes fly open to the lonely darkness of his bedroom. The room is warmer than it usually is, and his skin feels sticky with sweat under his covers. His mind, on the other hand...

He doesn't remember every moment of the dream, but the message was clear enough. His boxers are still tight from the memory, and he tries as hard as he can to think about anything else, but he keeps going back to the image of you, in front of him, kneeling-

Throwing the covers off, he sits up quickly and climbs out of bed, needing to clear his head in the only effective way he knows of. He shrugs his clothes off on the way to the bathroom, and he turns the shower on, making the water steaming hot, before stepping inside. The steam fogs up the glass around him, but he can still see the bare outline of his shame in the mirror across from the shower.

But now isn't the time, not with his skin burning and his cock pulsing in his hand. He pumps a few times as the hot water cascades over him, trying to set a rhythm, but it doesn't feel right. He keeps nearing the edge before the wave pulls back, and he lets out a soft groan in frustration as he presses his forehead to the glass.

Just once, he thinks as he grips himself again, his mind shifting back to his dream. Only this once.

His brain fills with the images from earlier: you on your knees, your mouth warm and wet over him, the pinpricks of sweat across the swells of your chest where your shirt was unbuttoned. He pictures your mouth as he ruts into his own hand, pretending, wishing, it was you instead.

It only takes a few more pumps before he finishes, spilling onto the white floor of his shower. The energy leaves him as he slumps against the wall, twisting the knob to a cooler setting, before shutting it off completely.

He still has a few more hours of sleep left before he has to get up for work, but he spends all night tossing and turning in the wide, empty expanse of his bed.

***

"What do you think he meant?"

"Maybe it's like a new manual, or guidebook."

"What are you two on about?" You walk up to your desk and slump down into the chair as Emily and Spencer look up with meek smiles.

Spencer is the first to crack. "We were discussing what Hotch might have meant by a 'different tactic' to solve this case in New Mexico."

You frown. "The gated community one? I thought Dave was just flying over ahead of us to get a head start."

"Nope," Emily shakes her head, before turning around. "He's in Hotch's office right now."

You look up just as Aaron and Dave exit the office and begin their descent down the stairs. Dave is ahead of him, with a big smile on his face, as he pushes past all of you.

It's only after you turn around that you realize who he's looking at. The woman he pulls into a hug is young - Academy cadet young - and she's pretty too.

"Ashley!" Rossi exclaims as he lets her go.

Hotch walks up behind them and shakes her hand. "Agent trainee Seaver is on loan to us from the Academy."

He introduces her to each of you, and you reach forward to shake her hand, a big smile on your face. After he told you that the bureau was considering someone new, you have had your guard up, but you don't want to make a bad impression in case she's here to stay.

"It's great to meet all of you," she says with a meek smile.

You pat her shoulder before walking past her to speak with Aaron about whether Seaver was the the new addition he was talking about. But when you lift your hand to get his attention, he turns away without looking at you, and leads Rossi out of the bullpen.

~

In the New Mexico gated community where three women have been murdered so far, Emily and Derek split off to check out the last crime scene, so you stay with the rest of the team and Seaver at one of the model homes to go through the evidence.

You can't help but notice how Spencer's eyes keep flitting over to the new girl, and a grin crosses your lips as you nudge his shoulder later.

"You totally have a thing for the new girl."

"Wha-what, no?!" he sputters, his face twisting into an unconvincing frown. "I don't even know her."

You just shrug. "You can still think she's pretty."

"That's irrelevant," he mutters, nudging you back and grabbing one of the files in front of him. "Do you think we can trust the local police?"

"I don't know," you sigh, letting him change the subject. "We definitely can't rule them out, especially in a community as clustered as this."

You glance across the room to Aaron and Dave, who are standing hunched over a laptop with the local detective. They're brows are all equally furrowed, and Aaron looks so focused you doubt he would hear you if you yelled his name right now.

Dropping the file onto the counter, you step around Reid and walk over to the trio, listening in as they start speaking.

"You interviewed every adult male in the community?"

The detective nods. "More than once. They're all digitized."

Aaron glances up as you approach, but when he realizes who it is, his eyes dart back to the screen. His eyes meet yours for the briefest of seconds, and he sees a frown cross your face out of his periphery. Fuck. He has to be more careful. You're a fucking profiler, for god's sake.

"Were all the interviews confrontational like this?" you ask as you come up beside him. He can feel the warmth of your arm inches away from his, and he leans his weight to the other side, trying not to think about his dream while you're standing this close to him.

"Is that wrong?"

Rossi raises his eyebrow. "You didn't get much out of them, did you?"

The detective shakes his head before skipping to the next interview, and everyone leans in closer to get a better look. With four of you surrounding the screen, it's harder to see, and when you press your hand to his shoulder to balance yourself, he all but flinches back from your touch.

The movement is harsh enough that everyone but the detective notices. His eyes fly to you as shock and confusion cross your face, and before anyone can say anything, he mutters something that sounds like 'sorry' before rushing out of the model home.

~

You're chasing after him the moment he's out of sight. Dave reaches forward to catch your arm but you shake him off, rushing out of the house and onto the street, which has been cleared by the local police since you arrived.

"Aaron!" you call out as he walks ahead of you, his hand raking through his hair. To his credit, he comes to a stop the moment he hears your voice, and you catch up to him quickly, stopping just short of him on the sidewalk. "What is going on? I thought we were okay?"

His eyes close for a beat, before his face hardens into a steely calm. You can no longer pretend like everything's fine. It hasn't been for a long time - not since the bar, and maybe even before - but you've always been good at compartmentalizing what you don't want to feel. With your mom, and Jeff, and Haley, you could push down the hurt until it dissolved into your bloodstream, spreading everywhere. It wore you down and thinned you out, but at least it wasn't overwhelming.

Looking at him now - your best friend, the man you...love. Your breath catches in your throat and he shakes his head, not looking at you. "What do you mean, Y/N?"

You wish you could keep pretending, like he seems to be able to, but it's just not fair anymore. Not to him, and especially not to you. "No, don't do this. Don't act like I'm the only one who sees how wrong this has been for the last few months. I used to talk to you everyday, Aaron. We've barely spoken in weeks!"

His face cracks for a moment and you see the glimmer of pain in his eyes before the wall comes up again. "I don't know what you want me to say. I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" you yell, your tone more forceful than you expect. "What are you sorry for, Aaron?"

He looks at you then, the facade falling away as your words sink in. The lines of pain and tension settle in and you're almost relieved that he's finally showing you the truth instead of hiding away what he's feeling. But then the despair returns as his lips thin into a line, unable to answer your question.

"What," you repeat, your words tinged with malice, "are you sorry for?"

He whispers your name softly, like it's an apology on it's own, before using his next words to tear you to pieces. "Don't make me say it."

A soft gasp leaves your mouth and you involuntarily take a step back, like he's slapped you in the face. He runs a hand over his neck and a sudden feverish anger rushes through you as you shake your head, blinking back tears. "Don't do that. I know it's not just me, Aaron. It's not-"

"Please," he whispers suddenly, cutting you off. "Please don't do this."

It's almost like he's begging you, and you jerk back, unable to look at him. Men have hurt you before, in so many ways, but nothing has ever cut deeper than this. You don't think your bullet wound hurt this much, and at least then you had him to support you. Now you're all alone.

The aching heartbreak hits you all at once and you brush a loose tear off your cheek before turning around and leaving him out on the sidewalk, watching you walk away.

***

"Something's up."

Penelope bumps Emily's shoulder to grab her attention. After a second, she looks up from her desk. "What was that?"

"Something," Penelope repeats, her eyes darting back and forth between you and Aaron, "is up. Y/N and Hotch haven't looked at each other in like four days. Earlier, she was talking to someone on the stairs and he literally walked out of his office and then back inside again."

Emily looks at her. "Are you sure you aren't reading into anything?"

Penelope shoots her a look that can only mean 'you're kidding, right?' "They're inseparable. Something must have happened in the last few weeks that we don't know about."

Before she can stop her, Penelope stands up and barrels over to you, with Emily on her heels like an owner who just dropped her dog's leash.

"Y/N!" Penelope calls out as she approaches you. You look up from your desk with a frown, before your face breaks into a forced smile that both of them can see through immediately. "We wanted to catch up."

You glance at Emily, who shrugs, earning a look of chagrin from the other agent.

"Okay, what do you want to talk about?" you ask, your forehead crinkling in a manner reminiscent of your boss.

Penelope pauses for a moment, like she's trying to think. "Uhh, I'm not sure. Maybe about...you and Hotch?"

"Subtle," Emily mutters under her breath as your face scrunches into a confused frown. "She just means that you two have seemed kind of off lately, and we were wondering if everything was okay."

You press your lips together, unsure of how to broach this topic, even with some of your closest friends. "It's nothing."

That pulls a frown from both of them, and you sigh, doubling down on your feigned nonchalance. "It's really nothing, guys. I just...can't see him right now."

You turn back to your work and Emily and Penelope share a look, twin realizations clicking in both of their minds. They rush back to Penelope's office, and Emily shuts the door behind them, before they both blurt out something that sounds like: "We all know what's going on here."

"We have to make him jealous," Emily agrees with a nod.

She pulls open her desk drawer and pulls out her address book. "I have just the thing."

***

"I messed up, Haley."

The ground is hard from the chilly December air, and he sits uncomfortably on the familiar granite bench before her grave. There is a bouquet of dried-up flowers leaning against her headstone, and he doesn't have to think too hard to figure out who they're from.

"I'm trying not to," he whispers, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets to warm them up, "but I keep messing up."

A cool breeze wafts over him and the rustle of the nearby trees feels like an acknowledgement. Like she's really listening.

"She hates me," he sighs, his chin dropping to his chest as he shuts his eyes. The wind picks up slightly, and it's like he can hear Haley's voice in his head. She doesn't hate you. She's hurt.

"I know." He runs a gloved hand over his face, the cold sending a small shiver through his body. "It's my fault. I just don't know what to do or how to fix it."

Her reply in his mind is almost immediate.Yes you do.

He shakes his head, feeling like an idiot for talking to himself, even though it's helping him work through his emotions. "I don't. I really don't."

For a few moments, all he can hear is the rustle of tree branches and the low whistle of the wind blowing around the headstones. You have to tell her how you feel.

His chest tightens and he lifts his face, letting the cold air sting his skin, like some kind of penance. "Don't you think I want to? Every time I look at her, I'm terrified it's going to come out, but I can't say it." He takes a deep breath as the words start to flow out. He hasn't said them out loud to anyone, but right here feels like the safest place to let them out. "I love her."

Three simple words and it's like a weight lifts off of his chest. He still doesn't have the answers, but at least he can admit it to himself.  "I'm in love with her, Hales. The only person in this world that I love more is Jack."

He can practically see her smile as he glances down at her name etched in stone. Then what's the problem.

"I'm gonna fuck it up. I always do." The words come out before he has a chance to think, almost like they've been sitting on the tip of his tongue for ages. He looks down at the ground again, imagining her sitting in front of him. "I did with you."

This time, his mind doesn't have the answer for him. He's finally in a good place with his son, and with the addition of Seaver to the team, his work load has been marginally cut back, so he doesn't really have an excuse anymore. It's just his fear of losing one of the only good things in his life that keeps holding him back.

But you're already losing her. 

It's his own voice berating him this time, instead of Haley's. 

You're trying so hard to hold her at arm's length that you haven't even noticed that she has stopped pushing her way in.

The wind rushes over him and he looks at the headstone again, his eyes tracing over Haley's name one more time, before he stands up and walks back down the hill.

***

Dave's annual new year's eve party has always been a fairly large spectacle, but when Aaron leads Jack up his driveway that evening, the sheer number of (expensive) cars lined up outside is nearly staggering.

He knew it wouldn't just be the team here tonight, but he wasn't expecting the sheer scale of the party, especially while his mind has been so pre-occupied with the prospect of seeing you outside of work for the first time in weeks. 

The front door is unlocked when they reach the top of the porch, so he carefully pushes it open and leads Jack inside. He's only an hour late, but the hallways are already crowded with groups milling around, having loud conversations with a drink in their hand.

He doesn't recognize anyone until he gets to the kitchen, where he sees the rest of the team (minus Dave) chatting around a small snack table.

"Y/N!" Jack shrieks when he sees you, letting go of his hand immediately and running forward. You turn at the sound of his voice, and your face breaks out into a wide smile as the boy barrels over and throws his arms around you.

"Jack-o-lantern!" you gush, lifting him up and hugging him, your eyes falling shut as you squeeze the boy tightly.

Any onlooker can tell that his son loves you. For a while after Haley's death, Jack was closed off to every female figure in his life - even Jess - but he never shied away from you.

I love you, a voice in the back of his mind whispers as you set Jack down and press a kiss to the top of his head. I love you I love you I love you.

~

After Dave returned from the back patio and whisked away Aaron and Jack to meet some of his other friends, you loitered around the kitchen for a while, chatting with Derek and Spencer about their resolutions for the new year.

You're refilling your glass with some diluted punch when JJ and Emily sneak up behind you with matching mischievous expressions. 

"What did you guys do?" you ask, gulping back some punch in preparation for whatever they're about to spring on you.

"There's someone we want you to meet," Emily grins as she reaches forward to loop her arm through yours.

"Oh, no way," you say, already shaking your head before they can elaborate. "You are not setting me up with some random bureau guy again."

"That was only one time," JJ pouts, before beckoning to the hallway across from the kitchen. You glance over her shoulder and spot Will standing with a man you've never seen before. "I had Will bring one of his single friends tonight. He's an architect, and he's super smart and super cute. Totally your type."

You raise an eyebrow as you inspect the man from across the room. He's definitely easy on the eyes, but he's also not your type. There's only one man who fits into that box.

"I don't know," you sigh, setting your glass down on the table behind you. "It's very sudden."

"C'mon," Emily urges, her eyes glinting with amusement. "It'll be good. Just talk and flirt a little, and if you're into it then you have a new year's kiss locked up!"

Kissing someone you just met in front of all of your colleagues sounds like nightmare fuel, but you can't think of another way to get your friends off your back. "Okay, fine, I'll meet him."

~

After leaving Jack with Henry and the other children, he heads back into the main section of the house, hoping to run into you. He doesn't know what he would say if he does, but anything is better than the avoidance game you've been playing.

He sees Penelope and JJ first, but you're not with them, so he continues forward, deftly stepping around throngs of people conversing in little pockets around the house. 

"Hotch, over here!"

He whips around to find Derek, Will, and Dave waving him over to join them in the kitchen. He grabs a piece of cheese off a platter on his way over, and Derek pats him on the back when he reaches the three of them. 

They return to their prior topic of conversation, and he tunes them out as his eyes dart around the room, still looking for you. He's about to give up when he spots the familiar hue of your hair down the hall. His lips curve up in a small smile as he watches you lean your head back with a big laugh that he swears he can hear even from all the way over here. He's about to excuse himself from the guys when a hand reaches out to gently touch your forearm, and you don't shake it off.

It's only then that he notices the man you're talking to, and how enamored he looks as you burst into another bout of laughter. Something that feels like ice settles in the pit of his stomach and he turns back to the guys just as they notice what he's been looking at.

"They seem to be hitting it off," Will grins, crossing his arms over his chest. "My friend's a good guy, and he mentioned wanting to meet her after they crossed paths at one of me and JJ's dinner parties."

He notices Dave glance at him out of the corner of his eye, but he can't bear to look at the older man, for fear that he'll give something away. Aaron feels the nauseating pit of jealousy in his stomach, but it's not fair. He pushed you away.

He turns away from you and tries to focus on literally anything else, but it's not long before he's unable to fight the urge to look at you from his spot in the kitchen. You can't see him watching you, and it gives him the obscurity he needs to observe you from afar, but it also makes it much more conspicuous to his friends.

You don't leave the company of Will's friend until much later in the night, and soon it's almost midnight. The countdown starts as everyone in the house lifts their glasses and latches onto their significant others.

"Ten, nine, eight..."

He's turning before he knows what he's doing. He can't help it, it's almost magnetic, the pull you have on him. 

You're not looking at him, and he can only see your side profile as you glance up at the clock as it ticks down.

"Five, four, three, two..."

He turns away at the last second, unable to stomach the thought of you kissing someone else, but when the crowd erupts into cheers, he looks back to find that you're gone. His heart rates spikes and he pushes through people, ignoring the pats on his back as people wish him a "Happy new year". 

He eventually spots you through the back windows, and he steps out into the frigid air to accompany you on the back porch steps. You're sitting on the top step, your bare arms wrapped around your body for some semblance of warmth, and for a moment, he can't move.

He can't decide if he should go to you or let you have the space you so clearly wanted, but then a voice in the back of his skull yells at him through all the noise. She's your best friend in the world. A few months ago, the answer would have been obvious.

A switch flips and he steps forward, sliding off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders. You let out a soft sigh as he sinks down next to you, and he watches as your eyes glisten in the lamplight. 

You don't look at him as you press your elbows into your knees and rub a hand over your neck. "How did this get so fucked up?"

He sighs too, a heavy sound. "I don't know." 

He's still looking at you, at the tears in your eyes, when you finally take a deep breath and turn to face him. A tear slips down your cheek and his brain fires off sparks again. I love you, I love you, I love you.

He wants to say it so badly, but then the newest factor in all of his confusion jumps back into the forefront. The Pakistan assignment. He has been trying to push it off, but he's getting so much pressure from the brass, and that's just one more thing he's hiding from you. 

He breaks your eye contact and you let out a slow breath, almost like you felt him lose his nerve in real time. Without another word, you wipe the tears from your face and stand up, leaving him out in the cold once again.

***

The bureau gives you a week off at the start of the new year, but you can't enjoy any of your alone time. Every second you let your mind wander, your thoughts are invaded by the look on his face as he turned away from you. 

You had seen it in his eyes out there, in the freezing cold air as the clock struck midnight. At least a small part of him felt for you the same way you felt for him. But it's not enough.

You've been alone for so many years. When you married Jeff, you were done. You didn't think you'd have to ever feel this kind of heartbreak again, but now that you feel that kind of love again, you refuse to settle for anything less than what you deserve. And what you deserve is someone who can show you how he feels. 

Nevertheless, you can't control your subconscious. 

That's why you're laying in bed at the end of the week, staring at your nightlight across the room and somehow managing to simultaneously miss him and hate him. It's well past midnight and you can't sleep, but you don't want to give in to the urge that's been tugging at your gut all night. 

You're so angry with him, but he's also the only person you want to talk to when you're feeling anything you can't explain. It only takes another minute before you're giving in and snatching your phone off your bedside table.

It rings for a long time before he finally answers. 

He whispers your name softly, his voice gravelly as though he just woke up. He sounds confused, but it has to mean something that he answered his phone at this hour.

"Are you okay?" Aaron asks, his voice still a bit gruff from the tiredness. "What's wrong?"

I miss you, you want to say. Instead, you panic and ask the first question that pops into your head: "Why do you think The Beatles broke up?"

The line goes silent for a moment before he sighs quietly. "Everyone blames Yoko but you know I think they just stopped working well together creatively." 

"It was probably Lennon deciding to leave the band," you say, unsure where you're going with this. "Yeah, that makes the most sense."

"Maybe," he says, his voice a low hum.

There's no tinge of impatience or irritation in his tone, but you still feel awful for waking him up in the early hours of the morning to chat about a band. 

You take a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself for what you're about to say, but the breath catches in your throat as a small sob escapes. "I'm so mad at you."

There's a pause on the other end of the line, before Aaron exhales sharply. "I know."

Your resolve fades almost immediately and you sink back into your pillows. "I'm not mad at you." He quietly huffs out a laugh, but you can tell his heart isn't in it. "I'm hurt, and yeah, I'm kind of mad at you, but the only person I want to talk to is you."

You can hear his breath stutter over the speaker, and he rears up to say something, before thinking better of it. "It's late, Y/N. You should go to bed."

"Yeah," you say eventually, rubbing tears of frustration from your eyes. "I'm sorry, yeah."

"No," he says quickly, his voice hurried as though he's afraid you'll hang up. "Don't apologize. I'm glad you called."

Your heart flutters pathetically. "Okay."

"Why were you up anyway?" he asks after a moment.

You shrug, even though he can't see you, wiping away the last remnants of your tears. "Couldn't sleep."

Something that sounds like a quiet chuckle floats into your ears. "Try turning off that massive nightlight."

Your eyes widen and you inadvertently glance over at the beacon of light plugged in across the room. "What nightlight?"

He hums again. "Goodnight, Y/N." I love you.

"Goodnight, Aaron." I love you too.

***

It started when Emily arrived late to the briefing. She was never late, so that itself was enough to set off your alarms, but then you noticed her fingers. She's biting her nails again.

Aaron finishes briefing you all about the two families murdered in house fires in the DC area, before you disperse and head back to your desks to read up about the evidence.

When you drop your bag down and sink into your chair, you don't miss how Spencer visibly flinches in his seat, his eyes twitching with exhaustion.

"Sorry, Spence," you say earnestly, turning to him with an anxious look. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," he answers quickly, his eyes darting back down to the case file. "I'm... I'm...I'm sure these victims overlap somehow. Garcia pulled their phone numbers, but so far I can't find anything."

You've been working with him long enough to notice when he's deflecting, especially when he's doing such a bad job of it. "Spencer, you just jumped."

He takes a deep breath and you're suddenly grateful that his shorter haircut allows you to get a better view of his expression, even with his head down. "I've been having these really intense headaches lately." "Have you seen a doctor?" you ask, sliding your chair in to get a better look at him. "Yeah, a few. None of them have been able to figure it out." "I'm sorry," you say genuinely as guilt and shame flood your veins. You've been so preoccupied with your own drama that you haven't been paying any attention to your friends. First Emily, and now Spencer. "Does anyone know?"

His lips press into an adorable line. "You." "I won't tell anyone," you assure him, your eyebrows scrunching down. "I'm glad you're telling me now." "I know," he nods. "I just didn't want you to worry."

"I won't make a big deal out of it," you tell him, your lips curving up in a playful smile, "if that's what you were worried about."

"Thanks," he mutters, but you can tell his heart isn't really in it.

It's been so long since you sat down and caught up with your teammates, and given how weird Emily has been acting, you figure it's about time. 

~

"Have you noticed anything off with Emily?"

It's Penelope who comes to you first about the change in your teammate's disposition. You had clocked the small jab Emily had thrown at her after the briefing, but didn't want to intrude in case it was personal. You're starting to realize it might be a lot more personal than you originally thought.

"I have," you say simply, glancing back at her across the bullpen. Her head is down and her shoulders are hunched forward as she quickly types something out on her phone. 

She waits for another moment before jolting upright and standing up. Before either of you can get a chance to ask what's wrong, she is jetting off to the bathroom.

"I got this one," you tell Penelope before strutting off to follow her.

She's looking at her phone again when the bathroom door shuts behind you, and you approach her slowly so as not to spook her. "Hey, I just wanted to check up on you. You sped out of there."

"I'm fine," she says, trying to brush away your worry with a wave of her hand.

You frown, taking a step forward. "Are you sure? I noticed you've been biting your-"

"Don't profile me, Y/N," she snaps, her head turning to level you with a glare that would have scared the shit out of you if you didn't know her so well. It doesn't last long though, and before you can get another word out, she's already apologizing. "I'm sorry. I-I'm gonna be alright. I promise. I'm just having this nightmare."

She details her dream to you, and the profiler in you can't help but relate it to her own lack of trust, but then she looks at you with a genuine smile and you just have to smile back.

"Somehow, you.." she pauses for a beat. "You always make me feel better. I don't think I've ever thanked you for that."

Her words feel so final, like she's saying goodbye, and a bolt of terror shoots through you before you decide you're being dramatic.

She's your friend. She's gonna be alright.

~

Emily's gone. She slipped out during Aaron's multi-agency task force briefing, and none of you noticed.

How could you not have noticed?

You're kicking yourself as Spencer pulls out a sheet of paper from one of Emily's contacts, with a list of undercover names all with the initials L.R. 

"Prentiss is the last name on the list," Rossi deduces as you mentally check back into the conversation. Your eyes scan the board with the name 'Lauren Reynolds' written at the top. "That means she's on Doyle's list too."

"Guys," Aaron calls out from Emily's desk, holding up her things in his hands, "she left her badge and gun."

"Why would she do that?" Penelope asks, her voice small like a child's. "We're her family."

That's when you finally find your voice. "She ran to protect us." You turn to Aaron then, your eyes flashing over his like it's the first time you've ever really looked at him. "How do we find her?"

"We need to profile their behavior," he instructs, moving to the front board. "Doyle is our unsub and Prentiss is our victim. We treat it like any other case." 

There's the small sound of a door opening and Aaron looks up, beckoning his chin to the back. "Because terrorism isn't an area we specialize in, I've reached out to an expert from the State Department...someone who can also shed light on Prentiss' past."

You whip around to the sight of a familiar head of blonde hair walking into the briefing room. The tension in your shoulders abates for a split second as gratitude cascades over you. God, you missed her.

JJ saunters forward and nods at each of you, her expression already rigid with concentration. "Let's get to work."

~

Profiling Emily takes you all to Boston, where the evidence from the previous victims adds up to the conclusion that Doyle is a family annihilator. When you also find out that he has a secret son, you and Derek lead the team to the warehouse where the son was last taken, in the hopes that Emily would have made the same connection.

The sound of a loud crash sends you running, but Derek is faster and he gets there before you. You enter the back room to find Emily bleeding out on the floor, a large wooden post stuck through her abdomen.

"I got her!" he yells into his comms before pressing his hands onto her wound. "Prentiss. It's me, I'm right here."

She mumbles something that sounds like his name and your chest floods with relief. You step out of the room to call for a medic, but when you get back, she isn't moving.

"Emily!" Derek yells as you sink to your knees beside him. Your pants are wet with her blood, and it feels like ice against your skin. How can there be so much blood in the human body? 

"Come on," he pleads, tightening his grip on her hand. "Stay with me!"

"Emily, please," you whisper, your throat hoarse from the unshed tears. You press your fingers to her pulse. "Please."

The medics come eventually, and she is taken to the hospital, where the whole team is holed up in the waiting room. Spencer hasn't stopped pacing since she was taken into surgery and you can't seem to take your face out of your hands, even as people press comforting pats on your shoulders. 

You don't notice anything going on around you until JJ comes back from speaking with the doctor with tears in her eyes. No, oh god no.

You barely register her words as she whispers, "She never made it off the table."

It's only then that you stand up. You're not sure what you're planning to do, but as soon as you try to move, your legs start shaking, like you're slipping in quicksand. Aaron steps towards you just as your body gives out and you collapse onto him, quiet sobs bubbling out of your throat.

"She was just here," you cry into his chest while you clutch his shirt as though your life depends on it. "How can she be gone?"

His hands rub comforting circles into your back as his arms tighten around you, keeping you upright, and you can't help but imagine that this picture looks vaguely reminiscent of his home last year when you held him up as he broke down. 

Emily's gone.

You can't even remember why you were so angry with him before. Everything outside of this moment feels so trivial, like you've been wasting so much time. You need him now, and you're so thankful he's here to hold you up even though his pain is just as big as yours.

Aaron wraps himself tighter around you, fighting the tears that are rushing forward, because they just aren't fair. His whole team is falling apart in front of him, and he's one of two people here who knows the truth.

You choke out another sob and he tugs you upward, helping you stand again as you wipe the tears from your face. Out of the corner of his periphery, he sees JJ pull Spencer into a hug, and she meets his eye over the younger agent's shoulder. So much pain.

"What are we supposed to do now?" you ask suddenly, your voice so small he's sure he's the only person who can hear you. "How are we supposed to keep going?"

The familiar echoing emptiness of guilt swallows him whole and he sucks in a sharp breath in a futile effort to keep himself from drowning. Your glistening eyes are so wide with despair, and he pulls you back into his arms, mostly for comfort, but also because he can't stand to see you in pain for much longer. When he finally finds his voice, all that comes out is, "I don't know."

***

You can barely remember the funeral. 

When you try to think about it, there are flashes of white gloves and red roses and rough, brown dirt, but the only thing that really sticks out is the pressure of Aaron's hand over yours as you stood in front of her casket while they lowered her into the ground.

So many funerals, so many gravestones. The eery familiarity that has made you numb to the loss, even as it threatens to tear you apart each time you let yourself think about her.

It has become a regular passage in the story of your life: meet someone new, learn to love again, and then lose them.

Tears prick your eyes as you settle into the stiff wooden chair in your kitchen. The team has been organizing impromptu get-togethers all month, mostly at the last minute and usually late at night. That's when the loneliness hits the hardest. 

You figure you should be used to it by now. Deep down, you know it's not something anyone ever gets used to, but believing that the pain will abate is easier than realizing it'll always be there, buried in your bones. 

The pain of your mother's death is still a phantom bruise under your skin, always there, but never at the forefront until you press hard enough. Losing Jeff was a whole other monster, hiding under your bed and within the confines of your mind, ready to pounce the moment you closed your eyes. Haley, on the other hand, was a fresh wound; sometimes, you still aren't sure that the gash has fully closed, but with time it has gotten easier to pretend that things aren't awful all the time.

You wipe a loose tear from your cheek as you check your phone messages and tidy up some of the plates from your table. Aaron came over last night, and you both sat in silence for a long time, until a photo of Emily on your computer brought you to tears again. He held you for hours as you shook in his arms, trying to keep yourself together, but ultimately failing.

The silver lining of his renewed presence in your life doesn't feel as sweet as it should, given the circumstances, but you'll take any win you can get. If nothing else, you missed the feel of his arms around you.

You flinch as the dishes clink together loudly when you set them in the sink, and you watch the water dribble from the faucet for a long time, pretending that all you see isn't her blood.

***

He doesn't know what to do. He wants to be there for you more than anything else in this world, but seeing you break down is like being stabbed all over again, only this time it's his own fault. 

When you called last night, he couldn't stay away. He misses you like he's missing a limb, and even if he wanted to stop himself from seeing you, he knows he couldn't. Your grief has brought you back to him, but it feels wretched, even as he shoves aside his guilt for an evening to comfort you at this low.

He had lost count of the number of work-related things he had kept from Haley when they were married, but he always had the excuse that she didn't need to know. That her life would be better without the knowledge of all the horrors that circled them everyday. 

He doesn't have the same excuse with you. You are well-acquainted with the tragedies that life brings, and if it was up to him, he would spill every secret he has ever hidden, because he loves you, and you're one of the last people in this world who still trusts him, and he's so scared that after this, he'll lose that too. 

But he keeps his mouth shut. And when Garcia invites him to a get-together at your place, he politely declines, because if he knows you all have each other, then he can take one night off from the debilitating guilt he somehow still hasn't learned to shoulder after all these years.

***

"Come on in."

Spencer, Derek, and Penelope shuffle into your house, handing you bottles of wine and bags of assorted snacks, before plopping down on your couch and making themselves at home. They've been over so many times in the last few weeks that you figure it basically is their second home at this point, not that you mind. 

None of you want to be alone, and that's why it works.

"What are we watching tonight?" Derek asks, his voice nonchalant, like it's just another movie night with your colleagues. He always starts the night acting like everything's fine, and it really irked you the first time he came over, until you realized it was a front that he just needed time to shed. "Didn't you say last time that you have the original Jaws DVD?"

"What if we watched The Empire Strike Back?" Spencer asks timidly from under a slew of blankets that Penelope has covered both of them with. His nightly ritual involves suggesting one of his favorite movies, even though it always gets immediately shot down. 

Derek chuffs, snagging some of the blanket from off your lap. "Maybe another night, kid."

"I don't care what we watch," Penelope sighs as she pulls open a bag of popcorn and chucks a handful into her mouth, "as long as it isn't sad." That's her only request. Nothing sad, please. Your nightly ritual is like a practiced dance. Each of you playing your parts, reciting your lines the same way, keeping it familiar. Establishing a routine.

You stand up, taking your cue, and grab a random DVD from your cabinet. Ten minutes later, you're all watching The Empire Strikes Back, and Spencer cracks something that looks like a smile for the first time since before the funeral.

You watch the movie in silence, and when the credits roll, you watch the names scroll over the screen as you muster up the energy to find the remote. When you finally click the TV off, the silence feels suffocating, and you hear Penelope sniffle from next to you.

Throwing your arm around her shoulder, you all squish yourselves together, like the pressure will keep the emotions in. 

After a long pause, Spencer is the first to speak. "It'll get better, right?" 

"It has to," Derek sighs, his chin falling to his chest as he takes in a deep breath. You know him well enough to be able to translate his exasperation into anguish, even as he tries to hide it.

"It will get better." You glance around the couch at your friends - the people who have been here for you through all of it - and nod your head, choosing this moment to really believe it. "It will."

***

It doesn't.

A week later, you are storming into Aaron's apartment after he dropped Jack off to stay with Jess, your words already pouring out even before he can shut the door behind you.

"How could you take the assignment?"

Your tone is laced with malice, but he can still hear the hurt underneath.

"How could you leave us here after everything that happened?"

This time the pain is clearer. Your voice breaks at the end and he steps forward to do something, but you twist your body away.

His hands fall hopelessly back to his sides and he doesn't know how to explain this to you, when he can't even explain it to himself.

"Strauss left your brief in the conference room." Your words are stronger now, and he looks up, his eyes squinting with anticipation. "You've known about this since before the new year."

You're right. He's known about the prospect of this assignment for almost a year, and then after, when it became a real possibility, he still chose not to tell you. Maybe before, he had the excuse that you weren't speaking to him, but after Emily...he doesn't have a leg to stand on.

"Why wouldn't you tell us?" you ask, the anguish coming forward in full force. "We need you here. Jack needs you. I need you."

He needs you too. But he also needs to stop hurting you. And he can't see that happening while he's still here.

"I'm sorry," he whispers softly. I love you, I'm sorry.

You let out a sigh and your shoulders fall, like you've lost all of the fight within you. You look so defeated, and it feels worse than when you were yelling at him. 

You're right here, but you feel so far away, like he's looking at you through tinted glass.

"Fine," you say after a beat. "Call me when you're leaving."

Your shoulder brushes his as you whip past him, and he doesn't muster up the courage to speak again until you're already gone.

***

The call comes soon. Too soon.

You meet him at his apartment, and Jack immediately gives you a hug before latching himself back onto his father. You don't know what Aaron told him, given how you don't even know how long he's going to be gone, but you can't imagine it was helpful to a six year old boy who only understands that his father is leaving for a long time.

"I called Jess to pick him up," Aaron explains in a hushed whisper as Jack runs out to get his shoes, "but she's busy until the afternoon."

"That's okay," you say, crossing your arms in front of you. It's a defensive maneuver that's about all you can muster up right now. "I can drop him off at her house after we get you out of here."

You try to say it lightly, but your tone sharpens at the end, making him flinch. You sigh, an apology in itself, because you're trying so hard to be supportive. You know you're mad at him - no matter how hard you try not to be - but this isn't the time to show your anger.

Jack comes back into the living room, and you usher the young boy out the door as Aaron lugs his duffel bags behind you and out to the car. The drive is mostly silent, and Jack doesn't say a word until you help him out of his carseat and onto the tarmac at the base. 

"I'm gonna miss you, Daddy," he whispers, his little hands reaching up to grab his father's hand. "Come home soon."

Aaron picks him up and squeezes him in a big hug, before setting him back down on the ground. He looks at you then and you shrug, pressing your lips together. "What he said."

"I don't know how long this is going to take," he says, mostly directing his words at Jack, even though he keeps glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. "Probably a few months though."

A few months. That shouldn't feel as long as it does. 

"Bye buddy," he says then, kneeling down to hug his son again. "Go sit in Y/N's car so I can talk to her about some grown up stuff for a minute."

Jack bounces back to where your car is parked, and you watch him get in before turning back to look at Aaron. There's a resoluteness in his expression that shouldn't surprise you, given how driven he is by his sense of duty, but it still catches you off guard.

"You'll be okay there?" you ask, needing to get that out of the way before the rest of it.

He nods, before inching his hand forward to brush against yours. It's a small gesture, but you're not ready yet.

"I'm still angry," you whisper, pulling your hand back slightly. "I don't want to be, because you're leaving, and I want you to have a clear head out there, but I can't help it."

"It's okay," he says softly, his brow furrowing.

"No," you sigh, shaking your head. Your throat is thickening with the threat of tears and you don't want to cry in front of him now either, but there are too many emotions swirling around your brain to keep any of them straight. "I'm not really mad, okay. I know you're trying to do the right thing, but she's gone, and the team is not okay right now, and I need to find a way to handle it on my own."

I can't do it by myself, you want to say. I'm in love with you and you're making it seem so easy to leave me here to shoulder the burden of everyone's grief.

"I'm sorry," he says again, his voice softer this time. 

You're so much better than me, he thinks as he watches you stand so stoically before him. I love you and I can't bear to see you in pain when I'm part of the reason why.

"It's okay," you repeat after a beat. Then you reach forward and take his hand, like he tried to do earlier. His hand is warm and calloused, and it feels rough against your palm, but it grounds you, tethering you to this moment. "I'll see you when you get back."

He nods, before pulling you forward gently into a hug. Your chin tilts up to sit on his shoulder and he squeezes you to him once before letting you go.

When he lifts his bags and walks toward the loading ramp, Jack leaps out of the car and grabs your hand as you both wave goodbye.

He flashes you both one last smile before waving back and disappearing into the plane.

***

The first month is the easiest. You let the futile anger take over; let yourself pretend that you don't actually miss him. 

Seeing Jack and Jess makes it less painful, and you slowly find yourself spending more time with them than at home. Jess tries to spend time with Jack at Aaron's apartment to help him maintain a stable environment, but with his father gone, it doesn't help you notice the absence less.

"He's not eating as much," Jess mentions to you one night after she puts him to bed and joins you out in the living room. At first, being at his place without him felt intrusive, but you've gotten used to being there. "He was picking at his food all through dinner."

"I noticed that," you agree as you pat the spot beside you on the couch. "I'm sure it's just a picky eating phase. Once he settles back into a routine with you it should be fine."

"With us," she corrects with a small smile. "I need all the help I can get, and I really appreciate you being here so often."

"Oh, honey, of course." You give her forearm a squeeze before grabbing both of your empty glasses from the table and taking them to the sink. "I was worried I was becoming more of a burden on you by being here so much, but I'm glad it's welcome company."

"Always," she says, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. You set the glasses down and turn back to see her staring at the tiny picture frame of her and Haley on her counter. "She always made it look so easy."

You nod, not wanting to interrupt her moment. After a beat, Jess releases a heavy sigh and shakes her head. "She was the perfect mother. If I can be half as good of a caretaker for Jack as she was, I'll know I'm doing something right."

You smile unconsciously, remembering a moment from years ago. "I swear Aaron said the exact same thing once. He was upset about leaving work late again when they first had Jack, and I had to assure him that he wouldn't miss every childhood milestone just because he had to work late once in a while."

He was so terrified of being anything like his father. You tried your best to show him how impossible that was, but those are the kinds of things people have to learn on their own.

Jess looks down, deep in thought, and your phone chimes then with a new message. It's from Derek: Hotch sat phone call, 15 mins

"Jess," you whisper, getting her attention again. "Aaron is scheduled to call us over the satellite phone in a little bit. I'm gonna go into the office to see if I can talk to him. Is there anything you want me to tell him?"

She thinks for a moment before shaking her head. "Just that Jack and I are doing well. And we miss him."

You nod and press a kiss to her cheek before grabbing your coat and driving over to the field office. The sky is dark by the time you arrive, and it feels foreign to walk into an empty bullpen. The team has shrunk so much since he left, and lately it's just been you, Spencer, Derek, Rossi, and Penelope around here.

You knock on Aaron's office door once before stepping inside.

"Sounds good," Derek is saying as you shut the door behind you. "Yeah, keep us updated." He sees you then and beckons you closer before turning back to the phone. "Y/N's here. I'll hand it to her."

You take the phone from him and tentatively press it to your ear. There's a slight buzzing sound and when he says "Hello?", his voice sounds far away.

"Hi," you say softly, turning your back to Derek for some semblance of privacy, but he has already pulled out his phone and started typing something. "How are you?"

"I'm okay," he says, sounding slightly distracted. "It's really busy over here. How are yo- you all doing? Jack and Jessica?"

"They're good," you tell him, hoping he can't hear the tightness in your voice over hearing his for the first time in weeks. "They really miss you. We all do."

"I miss you guys too." 

You hear some muffled voices on the other end of the line, and you jump in with your questions before he gets called away. "Any updates I can ask about? Like when you'll be done."

"Not right now," he says with a sigh. "It's still need-to-know."

"Right," you whisper rigidly, even though it's not fair. He's trying his best, and he's doing what's right, but you keep punishing him. Because of your own feelings, your brain adds at the end. 

"It's protocol," he says, even though you're both well aware of how this works.

"I know," you sigh, your fingers gripping the phone tightly. "I have to go back to Jess's."

"Y/N, wait-" he starts, but you are already handing the phone back to Derek.

He takes it uncertainly, but you just shake your head and exit the office.

***

"Did you watch the other movie I gave you?"

You whip your head around to look at Spencer, who is looking at you intently. You had been staring at Aaron's office door for the better part of the last hour.

You frown apologetically. "Not yet, Spence." He had loaned you his DVD of one of his favorite Star Wars movies, and each time you tried watching it, you were just reminded of the immediate aftermath of losing Emily. "I'll find time soon, though."

"That's okay," he shrugs as you inadvertently glance up at the door again. "I know it isn't everyone's thing. I just thought you seemed to enjoy the one we watched at the movie night."

"I did," you assure him, reaching out to pat his hand. "I promise I just haven't found time yet."

He smiles at you, and you return it before your eyes dart up to Aaron's office door at the sight of movement. A small, unrealistic part of you expects Aaron to emerge, but it's Derek instead. Derek took over his office a month after he left to Pakistan, because the secure line was already set up.

"He has a lot on his plate these days," Spencer says, drawing your attention back. He's watching Derek speak to someone at the top of the stairs, his forehead crinkled with stress.

"We're down quite a few hands," you nod, pursing your lips. "Maybe we can convince Derek to bring JJ back permanently."

Spencer lights up and you can't help but grin too. "We definitely should."

***

The cases start piling up, and you welcome the distraction as the passing months begin to weigh on you. The whole team has been under a lot of pressure from the brass, and Strauss has been hinting at a prolonged assignment in Pakistan that may take up even more of his time.

After a particularly grisly case, you invite Penelope over to unwind with some wine and chatting. It doesn't escape your notice that you're missing half of your usual girls' night attendees, but you keep the wine flowing, and soon you aren't focusing on anything other than the new guy Penelope met at her grocery store.

"He's so sweet," she gushes as she leans over the table to grab another chip. You're both sitting on the floor of your living room, and you reach out hastily to steady her glass as it gets precariously close to spilling over. "And I think it says a lot that he shops at such a high quality grocery store."

"Oh, absolutely," you nod, lifting your own glass in a mock salute. "You can tell a lot about a man by how he eats."

"Tell me about it," she sighs, her words starting to slur. Maybe opening the second bottle was too much. "I once dated a guy who only ate protein bars and steak."

Your face twists in disgust, and you set your glass down, feeling the rush of tipsiness hit you. "That's definitely not a balanced diet."

"I tried to tell him," Penelope says, before her face falls into a sad frown. "I really tried."

"Okay, okay," you say, trying to change the subject as her eyes fill with drunk tears. "Back to the grocery store man."

Her face breaks into a wide smile comically fast and you let out a high laugh. "He's so sweet. He really is just the sweetest guy."

"So I've heard," you grin, taking another sip of wine.

Turns out your last glass was one too many, because an hour later, after sending Penelope off in a cab and clearing away your dishes, you're still feeling the buzz from earlier.

Your face feels comfortably warm and you grab your phone from the counter, with the intention to call Emily, when you suddenly remember-

Your smile falls in an instant and tears are rushing forward before you can clearly form a coherent thought. You drop the phone and rush upstairs to take a hot shower to wind down and calm yourself, but even as the burning water washes over you, you still feel wound tight, like your emotions are trapped inside of you.

She was the first person you would always call after a tipsy night, and now she's gone. 

Everybody's gone.

JJ, Emily, Aaron. Aaron.

A sob chokes out and you press your hand over your mouth, your body caving forward under the billowing steam fogging up the glass. You miss him so much, it's like you're not even yourself anymore. 

You let out another soft sob as the water begins to calm you down, but you can still feel the echoing hollowness inside of you. You wish he was here, holding you, telling you it would all be okay. That you didn't ruin everything by pushing too hard, too fast. That you love him and he loves you, and it can all be perfect again. 

"It'll be okay," his voice whispers from behind you, and suddenly he's there. Not really, but with your eyes closed and your mind still foggy, it almost feels real. "I'm sorry I left. I should've been here."

"You should be," you gasp out as his arms close around you from behind, holding you tightly under the soothing warmth of the water. "You left me."

"I know," he says, his breath tingling the sensitive spot behind your ear. "I'll never leave again. I promise."

"You promise," you whisper, mostly to yourself, as you turn around. His lips glide over your shoulder and up your neck, and suddenly his mouth is on yours.

You gasp as his hands slide down your body, his fingers gently caressing the sides of your breasts as he makes his way to your waist. His lips are so soft against yours and when his tongue runs along the seam of your mouth, you moan loudly, letting him swallow up the sounds.

He feels so real under your hands as you trace the jagged scars along his abdomen, and when his tongue glides down your-

You sit up with a gasp, your head pounding with the beginnings of an oncoming wine hangover. Your sheets are messily strewn around you, and your skin is sticky with sweat, but you can't bring yourself to get up. You take a large gulp of water from the glass on your nightstand and check the time: 3:02 AM.

Falling back with a huff, you run a hand over your face and fruitlessly try to sleep through the rest of the night.

***

Summer brings its own set of struggles.

The heat makes each case feel ten times longer than it already is, and with September fast approaching, Jack gets more and more antsy about starting school for the first time.

"He's been shut in his room all day," Jess sighs over the line as you make yourself coffee with your phone pressed between your shoulder and ear. "I think he's sad that he's starting school without either of his parents here."

Your heart breaks as you imagine Jack alone in his room, waiting and wishing for his dad to come back in time for his first day of school. Then an idea pops into your head.

"I think I know what to do."

An hour later, you, Jess, and Jack are waiting in line, under the beating sun, to get into the Smithsonian's zoo. Even tho you can already feel the sweat starting to drip down your back, Jack looks downright giddy, so you take the win.

When you finally get inside, he makes a beeline for the monkey exhibits, and you and Jess meander along behind him, chatting about her new side gig.

"I'm starting the part-time job in the fall," she explains as you stop behind Jack at the front of the chimpanzee enclosure. "It works out with the start of the school year, in case Aaron is gone for a while longer."

"That sounds great," you smile, giving her a small side squeeze. "You deserve something to take your mind off of everything too."

She shrugs, ever the neutral party, before looking at you with a smirk. "I hear there are some changes happening at the BAU as well?"

"Right!" you grin, following Jack to the next exhibit. "JJ was helping out temporarily, but she's officially back on the team. She also mentioned to me that she might be considering enrolling in profiler training so she can be a full-time field agent."

"Good for her," Jess smiles. "Lord knows you guys could use some extra manpower right now."

It's right then that your phone chirps with a text from Derek saying that Aaron is calling in again this afternoon. The urge to speak to him for the first time in weeks tugs at your gut, but then you glance over at Jack, who looks happy for the first time in just as long, and before you know it, you're typing back your response: Not today. Busy with Jack.

***

The next time Aaron calls in, you don't have an excuse. 

You're at work, scribbling out the last few lines of your latest case report, when Derek tries to call you into his office. You haven't spoken to him in over a month, and he's asked for you each time he called, but still you refuse.

"Y/N, come on," Derek chuffs, running a hand over his face. "You know he wants to talk to you. He's by himself over there."

That's what gets you. By himself. As though you aren't alone too. As though you hadn't been completely fucking alone when, over the weekend, you found a pair of socks Emily must have forgotten at your place months ago, and had a full body breakdown on the floor of our foyer. 

Each time you're close to forgetting that he left you here to fend for yourself, it comes back in full force, and right now, you would rather do just about anything other than put on a neutral face and ask him how he's doing over there.

"Next time," you say, hoping the finality comes across in your tone. It must have worked, because although Derek shakes his head disappointedly, he doesn't ask again. 

When you go to Aaron's place after work to see Jack, Jess pulls you aside, a worried look on her face. 

"We spoke to Aaron yesterday," she explains, her arms crossed over her chest. The bureau set up a secure line for them so she and Jack could speak to him periodically. "He seemed to be doing well."

"That's great," you say with a nod, unsure of why she's updating you when she thinks you spoke to him today. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," she says, waving away your concern. "I told him about Jack starting school in a few weeks, and about my new job. Then when I mentioned you - how you've been coming here a lot - he looked really happy that you were involved, but...he sounded off for the rest of the call."

Your shoulders tense up and you try to relax, so as not to give yourself away. "Damn Jess, they should make you a profiler."

She says your name sternly, and you can hear the Haley in her voice. "I'm serious. Have you guys not been speaking?"

"It's okay," you say, shaking your head. "I just need some more time, but I'll talk to him soon."

She twists her lips into a sad frown and you sigh, not knowing what to say, but she beats you to it. "He misses you...and I can tell you miss him."

You don't have an answer that she will want to hear, so you stick with the usual. "I'll talk to him next time."

***

"Do I have to go?"

Jack's bottom lip juts out in a sad pout as you adjust the straps of his little backpack on his shoulders. 

"It's your first day of school, bud!" Jess is trying to sound excited, but you can hear the sadness in her voice too, now that she won't have Jack all hours of the day anymore. "It's an exciting time!"

"You got this, baby," you smile, pressing a loud kiss to the top of his head. "Your dad is so proud of you."

"Your mom would be too," Jess adds with a sad smile. "Now go on in, Jack. I'll be right here waiting for you when the last bell rings."

He considers this for a moment, before nodding. Then he looks at you. "What about you?"

"I have to work," you say softly, matching his pout and making him let out a small giggle. "But you can tell me all about your first day when I see you this weekend, okay?"

"Okay," he nods, before grabbing the straps of his backpack and marching toward the front door.

"There he goes," Jess says wistfully, linking her arm through yours.

You let out a small sigh before shooting her a smile. You love him so much, and you're so glad you get to be here as he grows up, but you're so sad that Haley is gone and he's missing out on this moment. "They grow up so fast."

***

The next time Aaron calls in, you're talking to Dave in his office about his latest cabin trip. He is filling you in on the species of fish that live in the lake behind his place when Derek walks in with the notification that Aaron is on the other end of the line in his office.

Dave nods, saying he'll speak with him at the end, and Derek almost skips over you until you follow him out the door.

"You sure?" he asks as you follow him up the stairs.

You nod, bracing yourself for the guilt as you pick up the sat phone. "Hello?"

"Morgan?" Aaron asks, his voice confused over the line. 

"No," you say, shaking your head even though he can't see you. "It's me."

There's a moment of silence before he clears his throat. "Oh, I'm glad you could come in."

You say something that sounds like "of course" and suddenly he can hear his heartbeat in his ears. He hasn't heard from you in weeks, and even though he's probably coming home soon, he's so happy to hear your voice he could cry.

"Jess said you were there for Jack's first day," he says slowly, trying to find his voice. "Thank you for doing that. I know it's a lot before coming into work."

"It's not," you say genuinely, momentarily alleviating all of the anxiety he has been having around missing everything in his son's life. "He's the perfect kid. I'm lucky to be a part of his life."

He closes his eyes, wishing with every fiber of his being that he was there with you right now, and not thousands of miles away. "Thank you."

"Any time."

There's silence for a few moments before your breath stutters. "Do you know when you're coming back?"

His heart cracks at the soft sadness in your voice, but he still isn't allowed to share anything that is strictly need-to-know. "I don't."

Your breath catches in your throat and he hears the quiet sob as it breaks over the line. "I miss you, Aaron."

His fingers grip the phone so tightly he's afraid it may shatter in his hands, but there's nothing else tethering him to his life back home. This metal box is the one thing that is keeping him alive out here, and even though he left home so that he could stop lying to you, he's still doing it.

That's why he swallows thickly and says the one thing he knows isn't a lie: "I miss you too."

***

The team got called into the office for an emergency that no one has explained to any of you, and you take a seat in the briefing room as everyone else files in, matching looks of confusion all around you.

"Anyone know what we're doing here?" Dave asks as he leans back in his chair.

You're about to shrug when a figure walks into the room in a dark blue button down and an unfamiliar scruffy beard.

Your eyes widen and your breath leaves your body as you start to stand up, but then he motions for you all to take a seat, so you sink back down. He glances at everyone in the room before his eyes finally land on you. You can't believe he's here. That he knew he was coming back and still didn't tell you.

"What's going on?" Derek asks, breaking your eye contact with a jolt. "Everything all right?" Aaron ignores him. "Seven months ago, I made a decision that affected this team. As you all know, Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle."

You don't know why he's bringing this up again but then he continues. "The doctors were able to stabilize her and she was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under covert exfiltration."

Your heart falls. No, there's no way. "Her identity was strictly need-to-know. And she stayed there until she was well enough to travel. She was reassigned to Paris where she was given several identities, none of which we had access to, for her security." Your teammates break their silence at the same time. 

"She's alive?"

"But we buried her..."

You're still unable to suck in a big enough breath to regain the ability to speak, but then another figure walks in and you suddenly understand what people mean when they say their heart skips a beat.

"Oh my god," Penelope whispers from behind you as your feet unconsciously carry you forward and toward her. Toward Emily.

You pull her into your arms, relishing the feeling of your friend hugging you back after you thought you would never see her again. Her arms squeeze you tightly and you suck in a shuddering breath, trying to calm down your heart rate.

She's alive. Emily's alive. Aaron's back and Emily's alive.

The thoughts ping pong around your brain, fighting for dominance, but another one buried deeper in your mind floats to the surface, refusing to be ignored.

He lied.

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(message me to be added!)

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #hotch x reader #hotch x female!reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #hotch #hotch smut #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #penelope garcia #spencer reid #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #david rossi #jack hotchner #jessica brooks #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner series #criminal minds series #criminal minds season six #hotch fic #criminal minds fanfiction #anchor series #anchor

[sergeantkitty]

Y'all, my man Lucifer just likes himself some duckies.

Anyway, feel free to read through my rant of why I think he likes ducks so much. SPOILERS for S1 Ep8 toward the end.

(Click image for better quality.)

So in case you don't know, there's this famous(ish) Christian story called "The Devil and the Duck". I'm gonna try my best to summarize it here.

This boy gets a slingshot as a present and decides to be a little shit and impulsively uses it to shoot his grandma's pet duck. This kills the duck and the boy feels extreme guilt. His stupid bitchass sister reveals that she saw the whole thing and holds the boy's guilt over his head (remember this phrasing for later) and makes him do her chores and stuff for him, using what he did as blackmail and a guilt-trip.

The boy for a while keeps doing his sister's bidding until he cracks under the guilt and exhaustion from all the chores, and in a break down he apologizes to his grandma, admitting what he did to the duck. The grandma then reveals that she saw what happened from a nearby window, and although she was deeply hurt by what the boy did, she still forgave him immediately. She says that she'll always love the boy since he's her grandson and that seeing his immediate regret was enough for her. She was just waiting for him to admit it, apologize, and stop letting his sister manipulate him.

In the story the boy represents humanity/any person, the sister represents the devil, and the grandma represents God/Jesus. The boy commits a horrific sin and feels immense guilt over it and the sister/devil holds the sin over his head and tries to convince him to do her bidding since the sin was so great that there's no way that grandma/God could forgive him. The lesson of the story's pretty obvious from there: don't let the devil guilt you with your sins into giving up and turning against God since God sees all your sins and faults and still loves you and forgives you anyway, so long as you apologize and repent for your sin against him.

I think Lucifer as we see him in Hazbin Hotel is placing himself both as the devil (obviously) but also the boy in the story. He's clearly interpreted more as a sympathetic, guilt-ridden figure. He surrounds himself with memorabilia of his greatest regret: the downfall of man (hence the apples and snakes.) Now keep in mind that I've highlighted the phrasing of "holding over [one's] head", well that's because that's the specific phrasing used in the story. Now look at Lucifer's hat. It has the snake and apple. Lucifer is LITERALLY holding his greatest sin over his own head and has given up on his dreams and happiness in favor of doing the bidding of his own personal devil: his depression. He's let himself whither away in isolation and gave up on trying to be a proper king for the people he granted free will to since in his mind they're all wretched sinners abusing that gift. All he sees is the bad side of humanity.

I think to him the duck symbolizes the dreamer still inside him, that bit of hope left in him, that hope that even though he's the cause of evil in humanity he'll still one day be forgiven and maybe even be let back into heaven. We see heavenly figures like Sera and Emily feeling clear sympathy for him in S1 Ep6. They don't hate him, they just fear earning the same fate. Even going into S1 Ep8 we see him decide to stop letting his depression rule over him and help Charlie redeem sinners. He's working to, in some way, repent for his greatest sin because, thanks to Charlie, he's seeing the good in humanity again.

Do I have any way of knowing if this is even REMOTELY accurate? ...No... but I like the thought of this being the reason behind Lucifer's duck hyperfixation, and I haven't seen anyone talk about this or bring this possibility up. Anyways, thanks for reading my little rant :3

#fanart #artworks #digital art #hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer hazbin #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #hazbin #hazbin spoilers #vivziepop #hazbin art #hazbin hotel fanart #hazbin hotel spoilers #hellaverse #hazbin charlie #charlie morningstar #dad beat dad #rendering is hard #illustration #digital illustration #artists on tumblr #hazbin hotel theory #hazbin hotel thoughts

[shapard]

Feather of Fate🕊️

Lucifer x Seraphim!fem!reader

Soulmate arc

You're eating breakfast peaceful (are you?) and Heaven is a big mess

In pieces

Chapter 1 < Chapter 2> Chapter 3

Heaven was a big mess. 

Nothing new. 

Since you’re gone Emily feels all the pressure that was on you. All your responsibility was handed to her like a silver tablet with no refund. 

It was exhausting. And it didn’t help that Sera was also a big mess. 

She never left Emily’s side, almost like a guard dog. 

She lost her daughter because of her dirty little lies. And is scared that Emily would leave her too.

The arch angels aren’t pleased for her doing. She’s not God.

Her Image now like a Hurricanes aftermath.

No one wants to deal with her not even her own daughter Emily. 

Emily was very distant towards Sera. She doesn’t want to be near her, not after what she has done.

Your Mother sent Emily away when you fell. 

She couldn’t be there for you. She wasn’t there when the most painful thing happened to you. 

She felt ashamed, like a failure. 

You always protect her from the vicious laws of heaven. Sometimes even taking her punishments to protect her. 

And when you needed her the most, she wasn’t there. 

She can’t deny that it’s probably her fault that you fell. Taking all her misleads and getting you into trouble after trouble.

So that she can be safe. 

Talking back towards Sera in the court was the final straw. 

Sera could’ve talked to them, but she didn’t. 

She agreed because of her Image. 

To Sera’s surprise, the upper angels weren’t Impressed.

It didn't help at all.

Not even the winners want to talk with her anymore.

…

Lucifer couldn’t believe his eyes. 

You were awake! 

But not in the state he’d hoped. You were covered in your own blood and the floor was all a mess.  Ceramic was soaked in with the golden color of your blood. 

“What happened?” You didn’t answer. 

Somehow, he knew you wouldn’t answer. Falling from heaven can be quite traumatizing. He talks out of experience.

You couldn’t even keep your wings like he did, the pain must be unbearable. You were definitely not used having no wings anymore. 

You were hiding behind a Blanket, Lucifer found it quite cute and adorable how you were hiding from him. 

But it also hurt him.

Ache.

“Are you hurt?” Lucifer asked you, not wanting to scare you away. You slowly peaked above the blanket. You have to say he is quite handsome. 

“I don’t know if I can trust you.” 

The handsome man looked at you and sighed. “I helped you when you fell out of heaven. You’ve been out for a couple of days. I can help you, please let me help.” 

“Why?” Your mere whispers made his heart squeeze. 

He couldn’t find an answer to your question. 

Was he helping you because he knows how it is? 

To get thrown out of your home, getting ripped apart from the elders. Family not even sparing a glance at you. But there was something else why, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“I know how you feel, let me help you.” You nod, you don’t have anything to lose. 

You already fell from heaven and live now in hell. Getting thrown right infront of the bus. 

Letting the Blanket fall from your back showing the man your fresh back wound. 

“Again, the back?” He chuckled, “By the way, the name’s Lucifer.” The name rang in your ear. “The Lucifer?” your voice is kind of soar. 

He snapped his fingers and with a sparkling sound a cup of water formed infront of you. Muttering a small thanks, you grabbed the cup pf water and let it slide down your throat. You hummed in approval. 

“I’m Y/n.” His hands hover over your back and he pulled the ceramic pieces slowly out of your back.

“That’s a beautiful name, Y/n.” Your name out of his mouth felt like sweet caramel. You wanted him to say your name again and again.

You smiled a bit and winced at him removing the splinters. After he pulled the last pieces out, he hovered his hand again over your back.

This time his hands started to glow in gold. His hands radiant heat, it was like a warm summer breeze. 

After a while the feeling stopped, you turned around to take a look at Lucifer. 

“You’re Lucifer?” He nods but didn’t look you in the eyes, he felt ashamed somehow. “Indeed I am.” He finally looks back at you and you beamed a smile at him. 

“You don’t look creepy at all.” That surprised him and he blushed slightly at your sudden forwardness. 

“You should rest. We’re going to talk tomorrow.” He patted your head and walked towards the exit. Giving you a final smile, he went back to his couch. 

You sighed and laid down on the lightly soaked blooded mattress. “I should at least try to sleep.”

…

You didn’t sleep well that night. 

Your back was still hurting even after the treatment Lucifer gave you. 

The blood still sticked on your skin making it quite uncomfortable to stand up. You have to take a shower.

The red Sun lighted the room red. A quick reminder that you indeed are in hell. In comparison to heaven was Hell rather cozy. It was warm and more colorful, even though the colors are very vibrant or dark. 

It was exciting. 

It’s been so long since you felt that kind of Emotions. 

Everything in heaven was the same. You must do the same and be like everyone else. You have to work 24/7, and work 9 to 5 or even worse. Not even a single break, not even for you a Seraphim. 

You worked over night almost every day for your Mother Sera. It pained you when you saw her chilling the while day and Emily flying and playing around heaven. It is your responsibility as the bigger Sister. 

Well, was to be exact.

A knock echoed through the silent chamber making you snap out of your thoughts.

A couple seconds later Lucifer came through the door. Peering inside to see if you’re awake.

“I made you some pancakes.” Lucifer nudges his sharp clawed finger into the direction of the kitchen. 

On a table you see a plate with pancakes, Ice cream and a cup of hot chocolate. He sat down on the mattress. 

His pants started to soak in the semi fresh golden blood. He shrieked and sat up looking at his pants. 

“Are you still bleeding?” He franticly searched for any Injuries on your back. “I’m fine. It’s just the blood that spilled on the bed. Sorry for that.” He let out a sigh of relief, “Let me change the Mattress.” 

He held out a hand for you to take. With hesitation you took his clawed hand. With a pull he pushed you upwards, you gasp at how fast he was moving you. 

Your legs felt like jelly, your head started to spin, and it started to get dizzy. He held you tight before you could fell. “I got you.”

Without any second thought Lucifer carried you towards the kitchen. Your cheeks redden at this behavior. 

His touch was striking you like a lightning bolt. It was a warm comforting feeling. His Arm around your waist left a tingling almost sparkling feeling. The feeling almost made you smile like a fool. 

“Thanks.” It was a mere whisper, but Lucifer heard it very clear. The weird feeling on his arm was distracting him immense, though your voice brought him back out of his thoughts. And he smiled.

Lucifer realized how long he was actually holding your waist. Retrieving his Arm rather quickly he coughed out of distraction.  “Just sit over there.”

“Lucifer?” He hummed and looked at you, the way he chewed the food made you giggle slightly.

You smelled pretty bad. You didn’t want to ask him if you could take a shower, but you have to take a shower. His gentle gaze took your worries away and made her ten times more nervous. 

“Can I take a shower?” Lucifer nods hesitant. “Of course, you can.” He laid down his food and took your hands and walked slowly towards his bathroom. 

… Time skip…

The Shower was very relaxing, even though it was kind of creepy to know that Lucifer was waiting behind the door. 

The food was hellish good, heaven could never. 

In heaven it all tasted the same, very blunt and no emotions in it.  

Lucifer took your plate and cramped his sleeves up to wash your plate. You followed his swift movements and how smooth he washes them. 

It amazed you somehow, washing dishes isn’t something Interesting but how he washes them is just different. 

Then you saw it, his mark. Suspicious Identical like yours. Please no. 

Somewhere in Heaven:

Sera sat Infront of a U-shaped table looking up at none other than the arch Angels themselves. “Sera.” A rather deep voice said making her jolt in her seat.

“Michael.”

A/n: I know this chapter is kind of boring but trust me. It’s going to be good.

#y/n #shapard #hazbin lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer #lucifer x reader #yummy pancakes #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #fem reader

[spaceyrosie]

for you, i would ruin myself

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x daughter!reader, hints of Aaron Hotchner x Emily Prentiss Summary: Hotch is a busy man and he truly tried his best to be there for his children, until one day they got into a serious accident, leaving his daughter to be seriously injured. Warnings: heavy angst, sadness, reader got seriously hurt, descriptive injuries, blood, mentions of death, Haley's death, Hotch really tried his best, cliffhanger Author's note: I've been wanting to write for Aaron Hotchner for a while now and have finally gotten the time and inspiration to do so. I don't know if I should make a second part. Word count: 2.1k

“Dad! Hurry or Jack’s going to eat the cake all by himself!” you hollered from the living room.

Jack giggled “No I’m not,” his hand reaching out for the cookies they baked together that afternoon.

It was a peaceful day, one you have wished for a while now. Your dad’s job made it challenging for him to be home during the weekends, but today is one of the days he has taken the day off to celebrate your birthday.

“I’m coming!” Aaron replied walking to the living room to his children.

He had asked you a few weeks prior if you wanted a party for your birthday but you replied only wanting a small and quiet birthday with him and Jack. “I just want to celebrate the moment with the people I love the most, but I don’t get to do that these days.”

Aaron understands that reference, he has been travelling for work a lot in the past months. This is your first birthday since Haley passed, and it’s hard to celebrate without her.

Pulling Jack to his lap, they both sang Happy Birthday before you blew out the candles. Jack cheered, “We eat the cake and cookies now, Daddy? Please,” Giving his best pout, Aaron laughed.

“At least let y/n cut the cake first,” he chuckled while ruffling his son's hair.

As you are about to slice into the cake, they hear the dreaded ringtone from his work phone. Grimacing slightly, he picked up the call and lifted Jack from his lap before walking to the kitchen, “Hotchner. Yes, JJ?”

You tried not to let your emotions down, you knew this was part of his job. But, your fingers trembled as you sliced the cake before handing a plate to Jack. Your dad is still talking on the phone in the kitchen and judging by how his voice lowered, you know what’s about to come.

You tried to bite back the tears that were threatening to fall - will there be a time when your dad can make more time for his own family?

He walks back into the room, face pulled into a frown. He knelt before you, gaze heavy, “I’m so sorry, honey.” He started. “We got pulled into a case. I got to fly to Arizona.”

His apology lingered in the air. You nod, not really trusting your voice at the moment. You swallowed down your disappointment before forcing out a smile. 

“It’s alright, dad.” Your reply was short. You couldn’t let him see the cracks behind your smile. He carried enough burdens, with the weight of his job and being a single parent of two, you couldn’t add your disappointment to his plate.

He frowns not convinced, “Really, me and Jack will just watch Star Wars after this.” Who you are trying to convince, him or yourself, you are not sure.

He looks into your eyes, “I’ll make it up to you, honey,” he whispers, his hand cupping your cheek. You savour this moment - when was the last time Dad held you?

“We’ll be fine, Dad,” You turned away, breaking the contact, and he took the cue to grab his go-bag. Your eyes are misting up but you quickly wipe the tears away not wanting Jack or your dad to see it.

It was your birthday, after all, you are supposed to feel happy, right? Right?

Standing by the door, he crouched down to hug you before pulling away to speak to you, “Happy birthday, honey. I’ll be back soon.”

You watched him walk out the door, knowing he would not be coming home anytime soon.

The next time Hotch dissapoints you was during the end of school year.

The ticking clock felt like a curse, each second mocking his fading hope. Hotch cursed when he saw the time - 3 hours until 7.00 pm.

Looking at the evidence board, he pinched his eyebrows together, the pins and photos taunting him with a case and the fact that he will be disappointing his daughter, again. 

He felt a buzz from his pocket notifying a text from you.

I’m getting ready for the show. See you there!

He didn’t get to reply to the text as Morgan notified him the tactical team was ready to go to the unsub’s place. Pulling on his vest, it felt tight against his chest, burned with frustration and anxiety about the situation. He gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white, as he led the team to the location provided.

Emily sat beside him noticing his tense posture, “You alright, Hotch?”

He doesn’t want his emotions to cloud his judgment while being in the field. Shifting his gaze into a stoic focus, he said, “Yeah, just ready to wrap the case after we catch the unsub.”

Emily was not convinced as her gaze cut through his stoic mask with her head tilted to the side and eyebrow arched. Hotch sighs, “Y/N’s recital… it’s tonight. Her solo. And I won’t be there.”

She winced, the weight of his unspoken pain echoing in the silence of the car.

“I promised to be there but I know even if we get this guy on time, by the time we arrive in Quantico, the show is finished.”

You squinted through the glare of the spotlights where a sea face blurred in your vision. Your eyes, desperate with searching, landed on Aunt Jessica’s sympathetic gaze, followed by the emptiness of the reserved seat beside her. She waved when you both locked eyes and gave you an apologetic look when your eyes lingered on the empty seat next to her.

The audience applauded after your fingers hit the last note, but all you can hear is the deafening silence inside your head. Flashes of should’ve, would’ve echoed in your head, as the seat next to Aunt Jess remained empty even until you took the final bow.

The case dragged on as Hotch and Prentiss interrogate the unsub into a confession. By the time the team puts their reports in, it's almost midnight.

Hotch tiptoed into the living room, the house quiet. Your bedroom door flicked open and you felt your dad’s presence.

“I'm sorry, honey.” His voice rasped, each word carving deeper into your disappointment.

“I-” You started, voice thick with unshed tears “I- I understand, Dad.” The lie tasted bitter in your mouth.

When he remained quiet, you continued, “It's part of the job, right.” You whispered, voice cracking at the end.

Hotch swallowed his guilt, he'll never get to see her perform on stage. “Honey, I-” He puts a hand on your shoulder to offer some sort of comfort. But, the both of you know nothing can take back his action. “I really tried to be there, y/n,” He said instead.

Still looking away from him, you took a shuddered breath before sighing, “I just…” you whispered, “I wished you were there.”

Silence consumed the room as they both weighed their words in.

Somehow, too many disappointments led him to situations he regrets.

Hotch frowned deepened when the traffic slows during the drive back to Quantico. 

“Traffic’s unusual at this hour,” Prentiss muttered on his side.

Hotch grunted not in the mood. The team got called in for a case over the weekend, and they just finished wrapping it up. Despite it being local, he is still pissed to be working on his day off.

Sirens wailed behind their SUV, and he glanced in the rear mirror where an ambulance was passing through the traffic. The traffic moved slowly and they passed by a few police cars parked by the roadside trying to control the traffic where an accident had happened.

Amidst the flashing lights, he saw it - a black sedan crumpled beyond recognition. His breath hitched in his throat as he saw the plates before he pulled to a sudden stop by the roadside.

“Hotch? Why did we stop?”

She followed his gaze to the plate numbers before realisation dawned on her. Not caring to answer her, he jumped out of the SUV before running towards the scene. The smell of gasoline overwhelms his nostrils as his eyes wildly look around the crash site. An officer pulled in front of him, “Sir, please step back.”

“My family!” His roar cut through the atmosphere as he tried to shove past the officer. “Let me through! That’s my family!”

“Aaron!” A familiar voice hollered and he spotted Jessica’s wild curls from a distance. Jessica stumbled toward him, her face smudged with soot and blood stained her shirt. Dread fills his chest as he takes in the condition she is in.

“Jess!” His voice, usually calm and composed, cracked as he pulled her into a crushing embrace. “What’s happened? Where’s Jack?” He threw many questions. “Jess, tell me what happened! Oh my God, where’s y/n?” Aaron could feel the thumping in his chest.

Jess was crying, “I’m sorry, Aaron. I’m really sorry,” she choked out and he almost lost his mind when he heard those words from her.

Then a small figure emerge from the chaos, “Daddy!” Jack’s familiar voice brought some peace to his racing heart. Running towards the boy, who was being attended by a paramedic, he crouched down to console his son’s terrified sobs, “Hey, buddy. Oh Jack, ohh,” Jack was crying, a deep gash etched across his forehead.

His gaze, frantic and desperate, scoured the scene before he landed on a stretcher with you lying on top. He felt his heart drop when he saw your face, pale with a brutal gash mirroring the one on Jack’s head.

“y/n!” The name ripped from his throat as he nearly scrambled to run towards you.

“y/n! Open your eyes, sweetheart,” Aaron begged as he stood by your side. 

“Sir, please step aside so we can help her,” One of the paramedics told him.

He begged, “P-please, she’s my daughter,” Tears were streaming down his face, “Y/n, I’m here, sweetheart. I’m here,” He sobbed trying to take hold of your hand. It felt cold to his touch, you have lost too much blood, causing your body temperature to drop.

You stirred before your eyes fluttered open, “D- dad?” your voice croaked.

Gripping your hand tightly, “I’m here, honey. Dad’s here,” Aaron assured.

Gaze unfocused as your eyes stared ahead, “D- dad, you’re h-here?” You try to reach out. Aaron tried to smooth out the hair out of your face, his face coming into your view.

“I’m here, y/n.” He assured again.

“Dad… it hurts...” You cried, and Hotch felt like his heart had been stabbed. Your whole body was on fire and your breathing hurt. Tears were streaming down your cheeks, mingling with the blood smearing your face.

“I know, sweetheart, I know. But you’re going to be okay. They are going to help you, okay.” His reassurances trembled, knowing he should not make any promises given the condition you are in.

Before you could reply, your eyes fluttered shut before your grip slackened in his. He panicked, calling out your name, “Wake up y/n,” His calloused hand cupped your cheeks, a silent plea etched in his words.

“Don’t do this, honey. Open your eyes, y/n.” His voice, usually strong and steady, cracked as he choked back a sob.

“Step aside, sir.” One of the paramedics immediately rushed.

Right in front of him, he saw another paramedic insert a breathing tube into his daughter’s mouth to help you breathe. Aaron saw his world turned dark when the monitor connecting to your chest beeped rapidly, signalling the heart's struggle to beat rhythmically. 

Hotch felt like he failed you.

He failed to protect you.

He failed to be the father you need.

“We are going to be taking your daughter to Georgetown University Hospital, sir,” The paramedic informed as the stretcher was wheeled into the ambulance. “She’s not stable, you can follow us in your vehicle,” He said sympathetically.

His fingers dug into the cold metal of the stretcher, refusing to let go. "I have to be with her," his voice rough with desperation. "Please, just let me hold her hand."

The paramedic's gaze softened, but his hands stayed firm. "She's losing too much blood, sir. Every minute counts. You'll be with her soon, I promise."

Aaron nodded and released his grip, a sob escaping his throat. Images flickered behind his eyes: empty birthday chairs, unanswered phone calls, a whispered promise to come home. How many times had he failed to be there? How many moments had slipped through his fingers, swallowed by the demands of work?

Haley’s pained voice, etched in his memory, morphed into y/n’s bloodied face.

How many times have you needed him but he wasn’t there?

How many times did he leave his family for work?

His knees buckled as he watched the ambulance drive into the night, flashing sirens blurring into the smoked air. His hands trembled on his side unable to control the weight of guilt inside him.

Emily’s voice cut through the fog, “Hotch,” No amount of words can offer him any comfort in that moment. She tried, nevertheless, “She’s strong, Aaron.” 

He hopes so.

He really hopes that you’ll be okay.

#aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x daughter!reader #aaron hotchner x female!reader #aaron hotchner x you #criminal minds #criminal minds angst #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner #bau x reader #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner imagine #dad!hotch #emily prentiss x aaron hotchner

[luveline]

Something for hotch? Maybe where reader gets hurt/a concussion on a case and goes to the hospital but refuses to tell him she went until someone else mentions it?? <3 you dont have to do it if you have something similar but i love your writing!

ty for requesting!! <3 —Hotch will look after you, even when you don’t tell him you need him. fem, 1.7k

cw reader has a concussion

Hotch rubs his face when he knows nobody’s watching. Hand over his eyes, thumb and forefinger working against a brewing migraine. It eases a little of the tension there, but he can’t do it like you can. There’s something in your hands that makes him want to call them lovely hands, such a quaint word. You rub the space between his brows with your thumb until his aching is gone or replaced. Fondness with its own heartbeat wakes whenever you’re near. 

You’re not near. His head hurts. He wants a cup of coffee and a shower and to call Jack. The cases are never over when they’re over, is the thing, and he can’t keep track of everything. He has to answer questions and patch holes now, before the work follows him home to take up space on his desk. 

He talks to police officers, chiefs, victims families and firemen and Penelope, too, anybody who needs to ask him a question. He tells Emily to go back to the hotel because she’s exhausted, and warns Spencer that staying too long will give him another headache. He’s surprised half an hour later when Morgan grabs him by the arm. Hotch assumed he went with Spencer. 

“Hotch, what are you still doing here?” 

Hotch gives him a strange look. It’s not as though Morgan hasn’t seen Hotch clean up a mess before. “Sorry?” 

“I thought you’d be with Y/N.” 

He tries very hard to look casual. The team are often better at pretending they haven’t noticed you and Hotch slowly moving together. “She went home.” 

“No she didn’t, they took her in an ambulance. She’s at the hospital, nobody told you that?” 

Hotch knows Morgan can finish up for him. He doesn’t even say where he’s going or what there is left to do, Morgan is more than capable of handling the unit, and he’s a phone call away. Hotch rushes for an agent with a car and tells them where he needs to go as he punches your speed dial into his phone. Number three, after Penelope and Jess. 

You don’t answer, it makes him feel sick. He calls again and JJ picks up. Blessed, amazing JJ. 

“Hi Hotch.” 

“Is she there? Can I speak to her?” 

“She went in for an MRI a half hour ago.”

“JJ, what happened? Why didn’t anyone tell me?” 

“She said she told you.” A dry laugh from down the phone. “You’d think I’d learn not to trust her. I love her, but she’s a liar.” 

Hotch could say the same thing. “JJ, what happened? What’s wrong with her?” 

“I think she’s embarrassed. When everybody was coming back out, someone stepped on the back of her leg and she slipped down the stairs.” 

“Who stepped on her?” Hotch asks. 

JJ laughs. Hotch wonders if they’re too far into working together to scold her for unprofessionalism, but then he remembers the Unit would fall apart without her and holds his tongue. He’d fall apart without you, maybe, and he could stand to be a little more defensive. 

He’s out of the car and into the hospital in record time. He follows the signs to the Emergency Room, gives your name at the desk, and doesn’t have to flash his badge to get told what room they’ve put you in. He would’ve, and he would’ve threatened legal action. He’s no saint. He’ll abuse the system (in innocuous ways only, of course) if it means he gets to see you. 

You’re in a bed but sitting on the side of it rather than laying down. JJ sits in the chair beside you, two contrasting expressions on your faces. You’re smiling. JJ bites her lip. 

She turns to Hotch with relief. “Hey, look,” she says gently. 

“You took a long time to get here. Was it the moon?” 

Hotch understands quite quickly. “Sorry. Nobody told me you got hurt. What happened to the moon, honey?” 

You give him a vacant look. Turning back to JJ, your hands vying for her arm, you hold her to your stomach gently and squeeze your eyes closed. “The light.” 

Hotch turns to the wall, looking for the light switch. It’s hidden behind other concerning tech, so he’s careful about what he presses. You sigh and draw his attention, wiggling back on the bed to almost fall off the other side. 

“Maybe she thought she told me,” he suggests, not scolding JJ, but unhappy nonetheless. You clearly aren’t in a state to make decisions for yourself. 

JJ rubs your arm. “She got worse after we got here. That’s why they sent for her MRI so quickly. She’s on and off with it, incoherent and normal again.”   

Hotch knows she’s concerned for you, but he can read her restless leg; she hasn’t talked to Will or heard about Henry in hours. “Go back to the hotel, JJ. I have her.” 

JJ gives you a hug, to your confusion, and bypasses him fast. He can hear her phone ringing before the doors shut from her departure. 

He admires her loyalty, he just wishes she’d called him two hours ago. 

You rub your eyes, the loose sleeves of your hospital gown shifting against the loose knot behind your neck, and he genuinely despises the idea that you’d been here, hurt, without him. “Can I tie your gown again?” he asks. 

You nod into your rubbing. 

“I turned the lights off. It shouldn’t be so bright in here anymore.” He rounds the bed to your back, where a great deal of skin is showing. He smiles though he shouldn’t. You poor girl. “You’re a little… stark.” 

“I’m trying to think of some fruit and milk,” you tell him. 

“Do you need help?” 

“Not for the fruit.” 

“But for the milk,” he surmises, bringing the ties of your gown as close as he can without strangling you and tying them in a neat bow. 

“I don’t think that’s what I meant to say.” 

He puts his hand on your shoulder, his thumb to bare skin. “That’s okay, honey, you’re having a little trouble now, but it’ll go away soon. If there were something wrong, the doctor would be here.” 

“You could be a doctor.” 

“I couldn’t. I don’t know anything about medicine.” 

“A very nice doctor. Big hands.” You breathe out loudly, more animated than he’s ever heard you. “Whoo, I’m cold. I think they made me naked.” 

“How about I tuck you in, would you like that?” he asks, leaning over you in hopes of you turning your head. 

You stare up at him. “You want to?” 

“I’d love to. I want you to be comfortable.” 

“My boyfriend might not like it.” 

Hotch tries not to sulk at another horrible symptom. You aren’t only incoherent, but amnesiac. And you’ve forgotten who he is, in a way. At least you’ve remembered you have a boyfriend. He hopes it’s him. 

“No? Why wouldn’t he like it, honey? I’m just trying to take care of you.” 

You visibly fluster. “You’re calling me honey like he does, and he won’t like it ‘cos he takes care of me. He loves to go to places but he doesn’t know where he’s going.” 

That second half is gibberish, he’s sure. Hotch puts his hands carefully under your armpits and manoeuvres you back toward the top of the elevated hospital bed.

You put your hand to your tummy as you lean back, and hiss as your head touches the pillows. “Ow.” 

“Sorry,” he murmurs. 

“Don’t tell Aaron I got hurt.” 

“Why not?” 

“I fell down the stairs. He’s never fallen down the stairs.” 

“I have, actually. Twice. And it doesn’t matter how you get hurt, I want to know you’re alright, so I need you to tell me.” 

He pulls the sheets up to your legs and over your lap. Tucks them tightly behind your back, hands lingering on your hips. He watches you look at him, your cloudy gaze tracking over his eyes, his nose, and his lips. “Aaron?” you ask eventually, lifting your chin. 

“Yes?” 

You breathe out an unmissable sigh of relief. “You didn’t come with me.” 

“I didn’t know you were hurt.” He squeezes your hip softly. “You didn’t tell me. But it’s not your fault, is it? You got hurt.” His voice falls into silk. “Is that warm enough?” 

“I’m glad you’re here. I need you to get my shoes.” 

“No shoes. Can I have a hug?” 

“Why?” 

“Just to hug you,” he says softly. “It might make you feel better.” 

You raise your hands clumsily like your fingers are full of sand, forcing him to see his arms under them and behind your back. Your cheeks align, his rough with stubble, yours warm with the heat of a flush, perhaps from the injury. Your hands flop down onto his back as he rubs two separate, loving paths on the gown and your skin. 

Thank god she’s okay, he thinks. 

“Am I stuck like this?” you ask. 

“Are you worried?” He taps your back. “I doubt it. We might have to stay here for a while, but it’s okay. Feeling better is the priority.” 

“I’d like to go back.” 

“Home?” 

“For breakfast.” 

“Are you hungry? I can find you something to eat.” 

“What?” you ask. 

You sound so genuinely confused that Hotch laughs into your shoulder, before giving the fabric a soft kiss. “It doesn’t matter. I’m gonna bring that chair over and sit with you, okay? We’ll wait for the doctor together.” 

He sits with you for hours, talks to doctors and nurses alike as they come to check your vitals and explain your scans. Your confusion doesn’t lessen until the night time, and even then you act oddly, bringing his hand to your mouth to kiss strange parts of his fingers. The skin shy of his nail. The underside of a knuckle, the curve under the meat of his thumb. 

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble #criminal minds

[ecoamerica]

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[abbyromanoff]

For kinkmas can you do a Emily Prentiss who has a dick and get R pregnant, but abandons her for some angst, then Emily reconnects with her after a case and meets her kids and all.

YOU’RE BACK, BUT ITS TOO LATE

PAIRINGS: Emily Prentiss x reader

WORD COUNT: 1244

WARNINGS: smut, angst, pregnancy, abandonment, mommy (E), breeding, kids (yes they deserve a warning), arguments, Emily has a dick, think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Emily’s breath panned against your face, her lips venturing to your neck in a hurry. She teased the skin with her teeth, causing shivers to run down your spine. She leaned back, smirking in glory as you grappled onto her biceps.

“You look so beautiful, baby.” She muttered, her thrusts slowing as she took a moment to admire you. Only when a whine left your lips did she continue, forcing your lip onto her own as you shared a lustful kiss.

“Please, Em,“ You gasped out, squeezing your eyes shut as you felt liquid squirt into you. Her breath was shaggy, her voice trembling as she nodded with you.

“Mhm, going to make you a pretty little Mommy.” She chuckled, drawing long and hard hip movements, allowing you to feel her cock pulsing deep inside of you.

“I’m- I’m going to cum,” She placed each hand on either side of your head, her breasts moving with her body. You leaned forward, taking her sensitive nipple into your mouth. She moaned, tugging you closer by your hair as your legs shook.

“Cum for Mommy, sweetheart.” Your juices covered her cock as she painted your walls white, her grin wide as she admired the new ring on your finger. She had just proposed earlier that night while the stars shined bright against your skin, the ring shimmering as she placed it on your skin. She led it to her mouth, pressing a soft kiss against the material before returning her forehead to the pillows beneath you.

“I’ll never stop loving you, baby.”

“I told you I’d never stop loving you, Y/N.” The woman retorted, smiling through wet tears as she looked down on you, the ring still planted on your finger. It had been nearly a year yet you couldn’t get enough of her, no matter her actions. Only a few days after you found the sticks in the bathroom holding two lines was when she left. You weren’t able to inform her about the pregnancy, and the fact that she was going to be a mother soon.

It all happened so quickly, one moment you were the happiest you’d ever been, then the next you stood over her grave, tears racking out of you uncontrollably. You never expected her to return a year later in front of your doorstep, who would? But her hair had grown slightly, and you noticed the sore cheeks that proved her sadness wasn’t fake. She instantly fell into your arms, but you backed away, fearful of the recurring dream appearing once again. You were finally starting to heal, but now she was back, and you didn’t know what to do.

She heard the soft giggles of your child and froze, a smile threatening to take over her face as she noticed your Mother laughing at the child’s face. She had a hint of black hair on her head, even without seeing the rest of her features she could tell it was her replica.

“Emily, you can’t just barge in here after…after I believed you were dead for a whole fucking year!” You ran your fingers through your hair anxiously, steam nearly coming out of your nose and ears as she stood there; she looked so perfect. How could she stand there and look so perfect, she just tore your heart out only to rip it back out as you tried to fix it.

“I know, my love-“

“Please don’t call me that.” You begged, sniffling as she tried moving closer. Your Mother left after a screaming match was to be had between the two, both of them telling you to bring the baby girl to your room so she didn’t have to witness it. It wasn’t calm, and you were shocked you had zero neighboring complaints.

“Please, I- I didn’t mean to hurt you,”

“But you run off to fucking Paris while your pregnant wife stayed at home? Do you know how difficult those months were for me? Not only was I carrying a child, but I was dealing with the loss of the love of my fucking life! Only to find out she wasn’t even fucking dead!” She buried her head in guilt, and no matter how badly she wanted to look up and see you, she couldn’t bear to meet your tearful eyes.

“I didn’t know you were pregnant-“

“That doesn’t change shit, Emily! You left. You left me, and you left your daughter, you think I can just forget that?”

“No, I don’t expect you to. And, to be honest, I don’t want you to. I don’t want you to forgive me because I can’t even forgive myself and I never, ever will. All I want is to spend the night with you, okay? I- I want to see my daughter experience her first Christmas tomorrow morning, and I want to experience our first Christmas together again…please, I’m begging you, Y/N.” She stood, relief filling her as you allowed your fingers to interlace with hers. She looked so hopeless, you, once again, couldn’t resist her.

“Fine, but we’ll be talking about this tomorrow, don’t think I’ve even thought about forgiving you.”

You promised yourself it wouldn’t happen, that sharing a bed with her wouldn’t bring back tempting emotions, but it did the opposite. And that’s how you found yourself beneath her, your walls accepting her cock desperately, despite your previous restraints. You forced yourself to keep quiet, but it was nearly impossible as she continued to hit against your g-spot with every thrust.

“I’m so sorry, baby- fuck, I love you so much.” She reminded you, wrapping her arms around your body as she dragged you towards her. You were now riding her, your legs around her waist as your hands dug at her back, your breasts pressing against hers as they created a shared rhythm.

“We…we need to be quiet, Emilia i- is fuck! Fuck, she’s- she’s sleeping.” The name came from Emily, you remembered when she told you her dreams of passing her name down to her child, but she also didn’t enjoy her government name. She wanted her daughter to have a beautiful name to match them, and Emilia was what she came up with after years of pondering the thought. Children had always worried her, especially due to her career, but she wanted nothing more than a true, happy family - one she spent her entire trip dreaming of.

“I know, but I want to hear you. God, I- I’ve missed you so much, ‘m never leaving you two again.” Unlike the deeply sexual position you both shared, there was a sense of comfort in her words. She seemed to ease away your fears with only a promise, but you worried she’d break it once again. You couldn’t risk losing her, not again.

“Please don’t leave me, E-Em. I- ah! I need you so fucking bad.” She repositioned the two of you, letting you rest against the pillows as she took a moment to admire your body. It was scarred, your skin holding wounds of pain yet beauty. The stretch marks represented her child - her baby girl, and she couldn’t have loved them more. She kissed the ones in reach, smiling up at you before kissing your lips in a passionate, loving gesture. She waited for you to pull back, but you never did.

“I told you I’d never stop loving you, Y/N.” And she meant it, she meant every word.

#emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x reader smut #emily prentiss fluff #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #kinkmas

[reiderwriter]

♦️Pardon The Way That I Stare♦️

Chapter 8 of That's What You Get

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Summary: After some encouragement from Emily and Penelope, you try to explain your reaction to Reid at work. Until you find yourself reacting to him more and more, distracting you from doing your job. Warnings: Alcohol consumption, mentions of sex, Reader is just really horny for Reid (REAL). A/N: We're getting closer to the climax and I'm SO beyond excited for everyone to read the next chapter because I think it's going to be so good but also so evil and I enjoy that very much. If you like the series, let me know by dropping a message in the replies or in my inbox, and follow my other account @reiderslibrary for just fics from me without my random thoughts and bullshit in between... You can find masterlist here, and the series masterlist is linked here!

You were stupid, there was no other logical explanation for it. Staring at Emily on your doorstep as your brain stood there, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, trying to process the words she’d just said to you, there was really only one thing running through your brain.

“I’m a fucking dumbass.” you groaned, your hands coming up to your head as you pondered your next move.

“There’s no chance that you’ll believe this was all just one practical joke that I’ve been playing to test how quickly you could turn up at my place with wine?” You looked up hopefully at Emily, and she returned with a concerned look of her own, that silently communicated ‘No, I wasn’t born yesterday.’

“Worth a shot, come on in.” You opened the door wider for Emily and grabbed a second glass from your kitchen to share the wine before she could start her interrogation.

“So,” she prompted as soon as you returned to the couch, and you sighed heavily as you nodded and began.

“I married Reid in Vegas.”

“Yes, I got that from the text, what I didn’t get was why, what, when, where, who, and how! Question words, Y/N, important information if you please.” You chuckled at Emily’s tone, and you melted a little into your couch. Just like with Penelope, letting others know had comforted you. You’d never been one to bottle up your emotions, and you couldn’t exactly tell Spencer how you felt about him, so your dearest FBI-assigned best friends were a welcome compromise.

“You promise not to tell anyone? Penelope knows, and so does Rossi, but no one else does. Well maybe someone else but I don’t know who that someone is - long story.” You rambled, still aware of the promise you’d made with Spencer, and knowing that you’d actually broken it twice now.

“Scouts honor, now get on with it.”

“You were never a scout.”

“That’s beside the point, Y/N, now spill!”

“Do you remember when we finished the case in Vegas last weekend, and we all wanted nothing more than to go home, but the jet was landed?” A small nod encourages you to continue. “Well, Reid offered to show me this bar that he thought I’d enjoy, and honestly, I’d had a tense phone call with my mom and was feeling a bit crappy, so I thought a drink wouldn’t hurt.”

“A drink might get you married though.” You glared at her at the interruption, and she held her hands up in surrender as you continued.

“The bar was amazing, and he noticed I was feeling down, and I don’t know, he just has this way of making me feel calm and fully together. I was a mess earlier that day, but with like one short conversation, he kind of turned my mood entirely around.” You flushed then and decided to ignore Emily’s next interjection.

“Oh god…”

“Apparently after that, we went to a casino or another bar or something, but honestly, I drank so much I don’t remember any of that. But at some point, we bought a very expensive engagement ring, made our way to the Bureau for Wedding Licences and then a chapel and now we’re legally married.” You tried to end your story there, but Emily wasn’t having that.

“No, you’re not stopping there. You said you kissed, and you ruined everything, and you mentioned a wedding night in that text, do not shortchange me now, Y/L/N. Wait, should I be calling you Reid now?” She grinned at the flush that coated your entire body with that, and you buried your head in your pillows.

“Okay, okay. Well, we’re trying to figure out who the witnesses to our wedding were. We know that two team members were there, and Penelope was one of them, but Spencer doesn’t know that yet. Again, another long story.” You let your words sink in as you realize the tangled mess you’d spun for yourself in the last week.

“We spent some time researching our options on Saturday night, to see if we could get our memories to come back and I might not have left until a couple hours ago?”

“Y/N! You’ve been banging Reid for the last three days?”

“No! No, nothing like that, we didn’t- well, we did just not at his house, but also I don’t think you want to hear about that.” You spilled all the details about your last few days with Reid, his touches, his care, the dates you’d been on, the way you’d wrapped yourself around each other in your sleep, but still woken up to an empty bed, all the way up to that fateful kiss and your stupid reaction.

“So there, I’ve ruined it.” Emily looked at you pityingly and started to say something when your doorbell rang a second time.

“That’s reinforcements,” Emily said, standing and moving to greet the newcomer herself. You were relieved when Penelope Garcia came marching through the door, ice cream in hand and mouth already moving.

“Have no fear, your guardian angel is here. Emily texted me en route and I disentangled myself from my plans with a now very suspicious Derek Morgan to race over here. I think I managed to throw him off the scent by mentioning my ukelele lessons with Sam though, he always kinda glazes over whenever I go into heavy details about that.” She perches herself on the couch beside you and starts organizing things on the table, pulling out three tubs of ice cream and locating adequate spoons in the drawer.

“Pen, you didn’t have to do all this…”

“Yes, I did. Emily tell her I did. I need all the details that you suddenly remembered Y/N or I’m going to go crazy, and let me tell you, I am not an effective tech analyst when my mind is all aflutter with wonder.” You smiled awkwardly at the situation. You’d glossed over the details of your wedding night with Emily, going no further than insinuating that you’d had sex, but now the pressure was on.

“We just want to help you, Y/N. And we’re morbidly curious.” Emily joined in. Both of their eyes were trained on you in a hopeful expression, leaving the ball firmly in your court as you fought down the embarrassment rising from the back of your throat.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath.

“I think it was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life,” was all you managed to squeak out before they were reacting, asking twenty questions each in the space of a minute as your body both caught fire at the memory and shrunk down to the size of an ant at the attentions.

“Calm down, calm down, I’ll tell you more but you have to calm down.” They stilled themselves and bit their tongue, and you continued.

“Well I don’t want to get into the, uh, specific details, but let’s just say that he’s very good at putting theory into practice. That or he’s actually very experienced in sex and nobody ever realized, because the things he was doing were like, expert-level maneuvers. I didn’t think I was that flexible until he was hitting from-”

“OKAY not that much detail, this is still Reid we’re talking about.”

“Sorry,” you giggled sheepishly and decided to spare them all the details. “All I’ll say is that we both finished multiple times. And I might have stupidly let him finish inside of me.”

“Y/N, you should know better! Safe sex is really important, especially if you’re fucking in a hotel room in Vegas.” Emily half-chastised you, but you could hear the humor in her voice and just rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t exactly having sex with a stranger, I was having sex with my husband.” That got you a teasing cooing from the two women and you buried your face in your hands again.

“So he’s your husband now, is he? How long have you been married? Like three days?”

“Five. Fuck, we’re running out of time.” The length of time that had elapsed since you’d walked down the aisle shocked you as soon as you’d acknowledged it, and you downed your glass of wine as your brain ran rampant.

“Rossi said that if we didn’t tell everyone in a week, he’d do it for us so we didn’t lose our jobs, and we need to file for an annulment soon so we don’t have to get a divorce but there’s like… a one week window, and it’s already been five days. Shit. shit shit shit shit.”

“Hold on, Y/N, you said he kissed you earlier today, right? I wouldn’t exactly recommend getting married and then dating your partner, but it sounds like you both at least like each other enough to pursue this relationship, why would you need an annulment?” Emily’s confusion only served to remind you of the reason they were both here in the first place.

“That’s the problem. I think he thinks I don’t like him like that. And it’s totally my fault that he thinks that, because when he kissed me I didn’t react well and then he just left, and I think I ruined everything.”

“Define not reacting well,” Emily probed further.

“I pushed him away and slammed the door in his face. But that was only because I remembered everything that happened between us on our wedding night, and remembering the most satisfying experience of your entire existence while face-to-face with the man who you’d hitherto never thought capable of that, and having it occur in like 0.02 of a second is a paralyzing experience.”

“Oh my god, you’re an idiot,” Penelope whispered from her side of the couch and you nodded heartily in agreement.

“And what, he just left?” Emily asked again, tone incredulous with all the information she was receiving.

“Well when I’d had my moment and realized what I’d done, I opened the door again and he wasn’t there. And that was only like a minute later. He messaged me this after he left.” You grabbed your phone and opened it up, showing the girls the message and noting their winces in reaction to his words.

“It’s bad, right?”

“No! No, this is salvageable! You just have to… be brave?” Penelope didn’t seem to believe her own words as you pulled your phone back and poured yourself another glass, ready to drown your sorrows once again. Emily was a little more confident.

“Okay. Here’s what you do. I’m going to talk to Rossi for you tomorrow morning at work, get him to hold off on his big reveal while you go and explain everything to Spencer. How does that sound?”

“That sounds doable, I guess.” You sniffled a little, rereading the text having made your emotions jump back up to the surface again as you fought off tears.

“Brilliant. And then you can stay married and continue having wonderful sex, and make some genius babies and make me their godmother.” You threw a pillow at Penelope that she was just too slow to catch, and filled the rest of your evening with wine, ice cream, and good company.

–X–

Emily sends you a thumbs-up text after she talks to Rossi the next morning, and a weight falls off your shoulder. One step down, one to go right?

You’d arrived at work probably a little bit too early, having spent the night tossing and turning and playing every possible outcome in your mind over and over again. It had been half an hour before the next person turned up, and Hotch had only given you a confused half-nod in greeting before secluding himself in his office. Rossi had been the next to arrive, about twenty minutes later, and he too had questioned your presence but not in so many words.

“Early morning, Y/N? Settling into new routines in your newly-wed life, are we?” You’d stuttered out an answer but he was halfway up the stairs by the time you finished, obviously meaning the comment to be rhetorical.

Morgan, Emily, and JJ were all next, showing up only a few minutes before your shift officially started, but there was no sign of Reid, and you were running out of time - and privacy - to talk to him.

Then at 9 sharp the elevator doors opened, and from your seat at your desk, you watched him step out, feeling your tongue grow thick and your heart beat faster as he made his way into the office. This wasn’t how you were supposed to feel, this was cartoonish like a teenage boy in a brat pack movie watching the hottest girl in the school walk down a corridor. This was Spencer, your husband, and your best friend, and here you were feeling giggly and shy.

You almost felt like texting Emily back, telling her if you started giggling and twirling your hair, to take you out back and put you out of your misery.

He didn’t make eye contact with you as he settled into his morning routine, pulling off his scarf, putting his bag away, and then moving to the kitchen to fill up on his morning coffee. You did your best to covertly follow him, trying not to alert the others to your heart eyes as you looked at him and forgot everyone else.

“Spencer, can we talk?” You blocked off the entry to the kitchen as he spun around to face you, a bittersweet smile playing on his lips.

“Sure, Y/N, what’s up?” His voice didn’t betray any of his emotions, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes, and you could tell you’d hurt him the day before. You took a deep breath and walked closer to him as he continued making his coffee, again refusing to look you in the eyes as he continued as normal.

“It’s about yesterday-”

“We probably shouldn’t talk about this here, right?” He cut you off in a whisper, his voice sending shivers down your spine as you gripped the countertop beside him for support. You’d gotten closer than you expected at first, somehow magnetically drawn to him, your body language just as open to him as he was closed to you.

“I think we need to, Spence. I’m sorry, I panicked.”

“No, it’s my fault, I shouldn’t have done that-”

“Spencer I got my memory back.” His eyes widened and he blossomed in front of you again, attention entirely on you now as he took in your words.

“You did?”

“Partially, only the… Only the memories of your hotel room.” His eyes darkened in understanding, moving unconsciously closer to you, placing a hand next to yours on the counter as he effectively trapped your body in.

“Oh. Those memories.”

“Yeah. So you can see why I was a bit distracted.” He nodded at your words, but he was still coming closer to you now. Your body felt weak underneath you, entirely reacting to his closeness, the warmth rolling off his body, the electricity sparking between you despite him not touching you anywhere.

“Distracted?” His eyes darted to your lips as he grew closer, and your legs chose that exact second to give in underneath you.

Your knees hit the ground uncomfortably, as he reacted to your sudden movement, trying to grab you and pull you up, but only managing to grab the hand that was already holding the counter above you, awkwardly twisting and pinning your arm up.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, I’m sorry, I think… I think I should go,” you were face to face with his crotch, and looking up at him in that position was certainly giving you unwholesome thoughts. He jumped back as you scrambled out from underneath him, begging whatever god was out there that none of the profilers you worked with would question the dazed state that would follow you for the rest of the day.

–X–

Despite your need to straighten things out with Spencer, you’d avoided him for the rest of the day, and, having been called out on a case, you spent the better part of the week avoiding him as well. After literally falling for him, you’d decided that maybe in your newly weakened lovesick stage, it was best for everyone on the team that you try to stay as clear-headed as possible.

Not everyone on the team, though, agreed. He’d trailed after you like a lost puppy for days now, and you wanted nothing more than to give in and throw yourself in his arms. But there was a murderer on the loose and you needed to give your entire attention to it.

He’d tried multiple times to get you to help him with some work, suggesting that you go through some files together, or check out one of the witnesses together, much to your discomfort. Luckily, Hotch had picked up on some of the discomfort between the two of you and had kept you somewhat apart, not asking questions.

But the last night on the case, he’d cornered you, and you had to work twice as hard to extricate yourself from the situation.

“Y/N, why are you avoiding me?” He’d caught you alone in the hotel lobby, pulling you into a dark corner without much foot traffic to confront you. “Is it because of the kiss? Because the way you talked about getting your memories back the other day made me think we were okay about that again, but if we’re not then I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.”

“It’s not the kiss, Spence, and we really shouldn’t be talking about this here.” You tried to turn and leave, but he grabbed your elbow and spun you back into him, bodies pressed flush up against each other now.

“Spencer let go, someone could see us.” Even you knew your voice sounded half-hearted, not really wanting him to stop touching you at all.

“If it’s not the kiss, then why are you acting like I don’t exist?” His face was close again, and you felt your body reacting the same way it had done in the staff kitchen. Your knees went weak again, but he was prepared this time, holding you up in his arms, gently maneuvering you so you were pinned against the wall.

“Is this it?” He asked, letting his hands trail over your body as you whimpered under his touch. “Your reactions?”

Your brain was empty of a response, so you just held still, desperate to see what he would do or say next.

“You know, the deadline on our annulment has passed. It’s been over a week now,” he said, his forehead resting on yours as he brought his hips ever closer.

You were the one that gave in first, pushing your head up to capture his lips in a crushing kiss, needing him the way you needed water, food, and sleep. You’d deprived yourself for so long, and now you were hungry, ravenous, and he was the same. Your lips opened, and soon his tongue was snaking in, caressing you in ways both familiar and new, and your entire body heated up to its boiling point.

You moaned under his touch as his hands wandered, silently begging for more of him. Your brain only kicked back into gear when you registered the sound of voices about to turn the corner. Quickly pushing him off, you pulled yourself together just as JJ and Morgan found you there.

“Y/N, Reid, Garcia got a positive ID on our unsub, we’re about to go SWAT his house, get your gear ready.”

Either you were very good at masking your emotions and the physical outburst you’d just shared, or Morgan was just too caught up in getting his job done that he didn’t look too closely at the way Reid’s tie was half undone, your lips were pink and swollen and that both of you were breathing abnormally. Whichever it was, you were just thankful that neither of them questioned you as you all left to go and do your job.

–X–

To your detriment, you’d avoided him on the jet back as well, choosing to wrap a blanket around yourself and sit in a single seat at the end of the plane rather than risk his hands on you again like last time. You already couldn’t be trusted around him, and you wanted to take no risks with everyone else present.

He’d sat in your line of vision purposefully though, making eye contact every now and then to remind you that he was still watching you. You’d feigned exhaustion and pretended to sleep in the end, despite the flight duration only being a measly two hours. He’d let you exit the plane alone though, and said a general goodbye to the team upon landing, giving you a second look and wave before taking himself home.

The ball was firmly in your court.

“What the hell was all that?” Emily whispered in your ear as you both watched him leave alone. “What happened to the plan?” You smiled awkwardly, not wanting to admit how fucking horny the man made you feel, and how it was affecting your work performance so badly that avoiding him was the only way to keep your job.

“We had the talk, everything’s fine.”

“The two of you aren’t walking out of here hand in hand, so obviously everything is not fine, Penelope, tell me I’m wrong.” The other woman had stumbled into the bullpen upon landing and Emily had immediately drawn her into your hushed conversation as soon as Morgan had made to go home as well.

“What’s going on, hot stuff, I thought you’d be enjoying every second of your marital bliss by now.”

“He’s too distracting.” You whisper shouted at him. “He kissed me again last night and I almost let him take me in the lobby. And Morgan and JJ almost caught us, so yeah, he’s too distracting.”

“Oh god, you’re horny for Reid.” Emily laughed slightly at the implication as if it had just dawned on her and you hadn’t had an entire conversation where you fawned about how good in bed he was.

“Yes, I’m horny for Reid, okay, now please stop laughing, I’m in pain.”

“Well you know there’s only one solution, right?” Penelope said as if it were clear as day. “You need to go have sex with him again. See if you can be normal with him when you’re not so pent up.”

“I don’t know, Pen….” You were still staring at the elevator doors, even after it had been so long since he’d left.

“What is there to not know? You like him, he likes you, you’re married. Like you said before, it’s not like you’re having sex with a stranger, he’s your husband.” Having your words thrown back in your face gave you the boost of confidence that you needed, and you sprang from your chair.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Emily repeated and you looked back down at the two women.

“Okay, I’m gonna… I’m gonna go seduce my husband, I guess?” You turned on your heel and left, marching out to the sounds of whoops and cheers from the two women behind you.

🏷️ @w-windyy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @academiareid @sailortongue @daddy-dotcom @high-functioning-cosplayer @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @ferrjulie @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @jamiemuscatosslut @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @ghostheartbeat @casss2111 @rebloggiest-reblogger @wishyoudaskme @imawhoreforu @academiacoffeelover @softservepunk @andiebeaword @r-3dlips @wakaladjarin @ratbastardchild @mcira @danika1994 @stargurl99 @whovianwholikesgirls @its-not-too-late-for-coffee

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid series #criminal minds self insert

[zepskies]

Take Me Home - Part 7

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 

Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from. 

AN: For everyone who has Easter plans tomorrow (Happy Easter!), I decided to release this part a bit early. And yes, we’re at that part of the season 3 plotline…

Word Count: 6.6K

Tags/Warnings: Major angst, survival situations, violence, hurt/comfort.

❤️ Series Masterlist

Part 7: On the Edge of a Knife

Beau returned home that night with a large pizza for Carla and Emily. He’d already eaten with you an hour ago, but true to his legendary appetite, he still found room for a slice of pepperoni. They got comfortable around the fire out in front of his trailer.

“What held you up?” Carla asked.

Beau sighed and first wiped a bit of sauce from his face with a napkin. He admitted there was an altercation between you and your ex-boyfriend, Michael Hadley. Beau happened to be there in time to settle things down and help patch you up after you fell through a glass coffee table.

“Oh my God. Is she okay?” Emily asked. Beau noted her concern with a smile.

“She’s fine. Some minor cuts and bruises,” he said. “But I had to encourage the guy to leave town. If he’s got any sense, he’ll get gone.”

Emily looked relieved at that. Then she eyed him with a suspicious smile.

“And you just happened to be in the neighborhood?” she asked slyly, voicing the thought that Carla hadn’t wanted to.

Both women watched him closely, but Carla knew the tell-tale signs of Beau covering his embarrassment, giving his daughter a wry look.

“All right, smart Alec. Why don’t you break out the extra sheets I got in the trailer? We’ll set up the bed and the couch.”

“If you can call that glorified bench a couch,” Emily muttered with a grin. 

“Ey!” Beau called after her, though he watched her go in amusement.

After a couple more hours of chatting and catching up, showers taken and plates washed, Emily headed for bed. The adults stayed up for a while, bundled in warm coats as they sat together by the fire.

Beau remembered what Emily told him days ago; that he hadn’t needed to be a perfect man for his wife and daughter. They’d just needed him to be a bit more honest about what he was going through, to let them in. After what happened today with you, your patience and understanding with him…he was beginning to get what she meant.

“I’m really thankful for you helping us,” Carla said. It unearthed him out of his own head.

“Yeah,” he replied with a nod.

Admittedly, he was still a bit distracted. Besides how he left things with you (which still made heat crawl up the back of his neck), he still had Avery and that stolen money to worry about. Otherwise known as the reason Carla and Emily would have to cram themselves in his little trailer.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Carla prodded, laying a gentle hand on his arm.

“I just got a bad feeling about all this,” he confessed. “It’s like in Houston with Randy.”

“No,” she shook her head. “You can’t go there.”

“It’s too late,” he replied. “‘Cause it feels the same. Like something’s…something is comin’, and I’m powerless to stop it.”

“Randy’s death was not your fault,” she reminded him. Just like you had.

Beau looked over at her with a humorless quirk of his lips.

“We both know that’s not true. He was my partner and I let him down. And then…then I wasn’t there for you, or Emily. I don’t blame you for leaving me.”

Carla couldn’t help it, but a part deep inside her had been regretting that choice. Her eyes burned with unshed tears. She managed to blink and keep them at bay, though she let out a shaky breath.

“Well, you’re here for us now,” she said. And yet, she could’ve predicted his next words like clockwork.

“It don’t make up for the way I checked out,” he said.

Carla licked her dry lips and swallowed down the emotion clogging her throat. She didn’t cry often. She could have an ironclad grip on her emotions when she needed to.

It was part of what made her a good lawyer. She knew Beau had sometimes gotten frustrated with that aspect of her personality in the past, because he was the opposite.

The man kept a good lid on things for his job, but at heart, he was driven by his passion, his anger, his love, and right now, his bone-deep guilt and shame.

She knew he’d been drowning in it for a year and hadn’t known how to pull him out. Every time he pushed her away, it had hurt her, hardened her, making her will to try again less and less. So she left him. 

It was the choice she made, and she knew she had to live with it. Just like marrying Avery.

Carla laid a hand on Beau’s over his knee. She made sure he looked her in the eyes when she said this.

“I forgive you. For all of that, okay?” she said. After a moment, he nodded. This time, she felt like he actually heard her.

“But I’m telling you, this thing with Avery…this isn’t over by a long shot,” he told her. “I’m not saying that to scare you. You understand that?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, even though those tears from earlier were working their way down her face. She wiped them away hastily.

“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you two,” Beau said, in a firm, reassuring tone.

It worked, and it didn’t. Carla nodded again. “I know.”

He sighed through his nose and squeezed her hand. His gaze shifted away, back to the bonfire dancing in front of them. His eyes stung at both the smoke, and the emotion rising in his chest. He steeled himself.

“Carla, I’ll always love you…”

She smiled slightly, brushing the remaining tears from her cheek.

“Though I sense a but coming,” she said.

When she said your name in question, Beau glanced back over at her and nodded. Carla had been his first real love, besides Daisy Harlow in the eleventh grade.

But you were unexpected. How quickly, how deeply you’d gotten under his skin was too hard to ignore. And at this point, he didn’t want to.

Meanwhile, Carla stared at her ex-husband in bemusement. She slipped her hand from his and folded hers back in her lap.

“What’s she like?” she asked. Half of her was genuinely curious. The other half would rather not hear his answer, but she supposed it was only fair. She was the one who moved on first.

Still, the flicker of Beau’s soft smile stung, just a little.

“She’s special,” he said. “Resilient, like you. And smart to boot. You know she’s a college professor?”

“Yeah, Emily told me,” Carla said. 

Beau’s smile dimmed when he noted the resignation in her voice. She gave him a knowing look. 

“I have no right to complain,” she said. “And you deserve to be happy too, Beau.”    

He considered that with a nod. He wasn’t sure if he believed her, but for your sake…he would try.

“Can you promise me something?” Carla asked. 

“Name it,” he said.

“I know Avery is in this thing deep. He lied to me and he created this mess. Even when this is over, I don’t know what’s going to happen between us. I know I’m asking a lot of you, but please, look out for him,” she implored. Beau uttered a wry chuckle and rubbed at his chin.

“He is in this deep. And he’s being stubborn about it,” he said. “I might not be able to help him walk it back, but I will try.”  

Carla released another sigh and nodded in response. She supposed that was the best she could hope for. 

A few days later, you walked up and down the grocery store aisles with a basket in one hand and your phone against your ear with the other.

“Okay, I’ve got all manners of junk food and chick-flick movie watching snacks, including Reese’s cups, ice cream, frozen pizzas, and no less than three bottles of wine,” you said. “Am I missing anything?”

“I don’t think so, hun. That sounds very comprehensive,” Denise replied.

She was at work, and you were still getting ready for the fall semester. It was only a little over a month away, which meant you were excited, and also nervous.

You had five classes on your roster. You’d also visited Carroll College yesterday to set up your office with all your books, both textbooks and your favorites in fiction and non-fiction (but mostly fiction). Much Ado About Nothing was front and center in the Shakespeare section of your shelf.

You also wanted to at least try and relax for the rest of your summer. Denise was all too willing to help. You’d always had a good relationship with your aunt, albeit distant, since you’d lived in different states.

Living so close now just made you realize how much you two had in common. It was nice to find a friend in her, not just someone who would try to mother you in your own mother’s absence. 

“Yes! Good. Then get ready to brainstorm what movies we’re gonna watch tonight, and in what order,” you said.

“Oh, don’t pretend like you don’t already have a color-coded checklist,” Denise quipped.

You laughed. Yes, she knew you too well. “Okay, maybe I do, but you still get a vote.”

You turned a corner in the aisles and nearly ran right into Carla, who was pushing a cart. You both jolted in surprise and recognition.

“Oh, hi! I’m sorry,” you said, at the same time she said, “Sorry, I…”

You two did the polite, nervous laughter people did when put in awkward situations. You noticed all the food she had in her cart—enough to feed a family of three for the week.

“Yeah, finally getting around to doing a grocery run,” she said. “Beau’s trailer leaves much to be desired in the form of amenities, so…”

You adopted a more amused smile. “Yeah, he’s not much of a cook, is he?”

“Do frozen fish sticks count?” Carla remarked.

“Only if there’s expired tartar sauce, according to Emily,” you joked. The two of you shared a laugh that was a little more genuine. You chatted for a couple minutes more before you parted with amiable handwaving. Then you realized that your aunt was still hanging on the line.

You sighed and put your phone back up to your ear. “Hey, sorry.”

“Was that who I think it was?” Denise asked. She was probably trying to be cryptic, if Emily was in the room with her.

“Indeed, it was. Doing a nice family-sized grocery run,” you whispered back, to make sure you weren’t overheard. You brought your basket of junk to one of the checkout lines.

“When was the last time you heard from him?” Denise asked. She must’ve heard the heaviness in your voice. You both knew exactly who “him” was code for. Beau friggin’ Arlen.

“Not since we said goodbye last week,” you replied. And the memory of that kiss had been torturing you for days. It had also been the fuel of many…late nights with yourself.

Speaking of which, need some more AA batteries, you thought with a warm blush.

“Okay, forget candy. We should get cheesecake,” Denise proposed.

You smiled. “You know what, that’s a damn good idea. Definitely cheesecake.”

You hopped out of line to do just that. You knew it probably wouldn’t be as good as Chicago made, but you went over to the bakery side of the store and hunted for the most good-looking cheesecake you could find.

“Hey, if you want, stop by here later,” your aunt said. “Em is here. We’ll grab lunch, make it a real girls’ day.”

“Sure,” you agreed. You hadn’t seen Emily in a week or so either. “Where are you thinking? I’ve been wanting to try that Indian place down the street from your office.”

“Sounds good to me. Come over after you drop those groceries off at home.”

“Okay, will do. I’ll see you guys soon!” you said. 

Beau knew that he was going to be working straight through lunch. What he, Jenny, and Cassie had discovered in the past 24 hours was deeply unsettling. 

Not only was Walter Sunny Barnes’s son, but Paige was alive. She’d been found in the foyer of Sunny’s home, brandishing a knife, convinced the married couple were in it together on her kidnapping. Sunny claimed she’d had no idea her husband had taken the poor girl and kept her in a shack for days.

According to Paige’s testimony, Buck Barnes had tried to kill her. And since she was alive, it meant Walter had lied in confessing to her murder. It was also likely that he hadn’t killed Mary or Luke either.

That wasn’t even the worst of Beau’s headache.

He rubbed his face in frustration after getting off the phone with Carla. Thanks to this whole business of Avery’s stolen cryptocurrency, she was being followed. 

Fuckin’ hell, Beau thought. The next time he saw Avery, it had better be with handcuffs, or he was going to start working on his punch list for real. Instead, Beau grabbed his cell and called his daughter.

“Hey, Dad,” she answered on the third ring.

“Hey, honey. You doin’ all right? You good?” he asked. Maybe he was coming on a little strong, but worry was a living thing inside his gut.

“Yeah, totally. Just doing some research…but guess who’s coming to have lunch with us later?” she asked.

Her tone was leading him somewhere, and Beau thought he knew the destination. His lips curved with a half-smile. When he guessed your name, Emily confirmed.

“You’re welcome to join us. If, you know, you wanted to,” she teased.

Beau’s smile twisted with disbelief. Was his daughter trying to set him up? And better yet, it seemed like she liked you well enough to do it. While the thought warmed him, his smile dimmed.

“Wish I could, but uh, I got a lot of work here to do. I’m just…checking up on ya, like dads do,” he said.

As much as he wanted to see you (and he really, really did), he wasn’t lying. He needed to follow up on the man who’d trailed Carla to the drycleaners this morning. And he already had Jenny and Poppernak looking into finding Buck Barnes. He’d fled the scene after Paige and Sunny were picked up at the Barnes residence.

“Well, okay, consider me checked. We can talk later if you want,” Emily said. She sounded a bit disappointed. Beau felt guilty for that, but he’d make it up to her tonight. Maybe he’d bring home some takeout so Carla didn’t have to cook again in his tiny kitchenette.

“All right, honey. If not, I’ll see you tonight,” he said. “Just…don’t go anywhere by yourself, okay? Make sure Denise or Cassie’s with you. Matter of fact, I’ll pick you up from there today.”

“Yeah sure,” she said. Though he didn’t think she really heard the warning in his voice.

“‘Kay. Bye, Dad.”

She hung up, leaving Beau still feeling off-balanced. Until news came in from a fellow officer: while Paige had been brought to the hospital, Sunny Barnes had been brought into the station for questioning about her husband.

“Sorry I’m so late. I started cleaning my apartment and lost track of time,” you said, walking into the office of Dewell & Hoyt. Denise and Emily waved at you from their respective desks.

“That’s okay. We’ve been busy here,” Denise said. You looked at the large pinboard on the wall filled with news clippings and pieces of evidence. Bleeding Heart Killer, read many of the subject lines.

“Ech. Still working on this?” you asked.

“Unfortunately,” said Denise. She grabbed up her purse and went over to kiss your cheek in greeting. “But we might’ve gotten a huge break on it. I’ll tell you all about it when I get back.”

“Get back? Where’re you going?” you asked.

“To get the food! I already placed the orders,” she said, patting your arm. “I’ll be right back.”

You gave her a narrowed look. “I was going to pay for it—”

“No need!” Denise sing-songed on her way out of the office. It had you smiling, shaking your head. You looked over at Emily and tossed a thumb over your shoulder.

“Careful with her. She can be devious,” you said.

Emily smiled and stood up from her desk. She went over to sit with you on the small couch near the center of the room.

“I’m actually glad you’re here,” she said. “I’ve kinda got a question for you.”

“Kinda?” you echoed with a smile, but you pat her on the knee. “What’s on your mind, honey?”

Emily looked a little unsure. It had you giving her your undivided attention.

“It’s about my dad,” she began. Your smile slowly fell, but now you were really listening.

“Okay,” you nodded.

Emily opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, the lights in the entire office went out.

Natural light still came in from the large windows at the front. It was odd though. The weather outside, while chilly, wasn’t cold enough to create an outage. You hadn’t heard anything fizzle when the lights went out either.

“That’s weird—” Emily said.

The back door burst open with the sound of hinges breaking. Both of you gasped and stood from the couch. You slipped a hand into your purse to find your phone, and then the first contact you could think of.

You were about to press the call button when a tall man with broad shoulders stepped through. He was older, balding, and his clothes and neck were stained with blood.

Buck Barnes.

“Buck?” you gasped. “What…what’re you doing here?”

He didn’t look like the easy going, kind-hearted man you knew at the camp. Now, he looked haggard, injured, and dangerous, like a wild animal.

“Hush up,” Buck held up a silver pistol in his right hand. “And drop that phone, nice and slow.”

Your heart was in your throat, but you couldn’t just think of yourself. You subtly tried to pull Emily behind you as you set your phone down on the ground.

“You tried to kill Paige,” Emily accused of the man. It had you turning to her, your eyes going wide. When you looked over at Buck to gauge his reaction, you saw how his lips pursed.

“Sit down and shut up,” Buck ordered, gesturing with his gun at both of you. He drew closer and forced you and Emily to sit beside each other on the couch. There he grabbed a roll of duct tape from his pocket and began taping your shaking hands together.

“Why’re you doing this?” you asked Buck.

“I need some collateral if I’m gonna get the hell outta dodge,” he replied.

“Fine, but let Emily go. She’s just a kid,” you begged, as tears stung at your eyes.

Buck just continued taping you up. Thankfully not your feet, just your wrists. He moved to Emily next. 

“You don’t need her,” you tried again. “Come on, Buck. You really think Beau Arlen’s going to want to work something out with you if you take his daughter?”

“Oh, I’m bettin’ he’ll be more than willing.” Buck grabbed you and placed a strip of tape across your mouth, then on Emily’s. He hooked a large, calloused hand around your arm.

“Now get up.”

“What?!” Beau asked. His eyes widened in alarm. “Slow down, Denise. What’s going on?”

The more he listened, the more his heart plummeted into his stomach. He had to grip his work desk for balance.

It took him and Jenny under half an hour to meet up with Cassie and Denise back at Dewell & Hoyt, along with a forensics unit of officers. There was evidence of struggle in a turned over table and a broken back door lock.

Denise explained that she left you and Emily for just a few minutes while she went to grab a late lunch order. By the time she returned, the power was out, set off by the breakers, and you and Emily were missing.

Jenny found your purse on the couch, while Beau found your cell phone on the ground. He picked it up with a gloved hand. He’d seen you unlock your phone enough times to remember your passcode.

When he inputted those six numbers and unlocked the screen, he found his own name and phone number highlighted there. You’d been about to call him.

He squeezed your phone tight in his hand. He looked up and saw another officer pick up Emily’s backpack.

“No power means no surveillance footage,” Jenny said. “Okay, let’s think. Why take her and Emily?”

“It’s gotta do with Avery and the money he stole,” Beau said, grinding his teeth. “I needa find him.”

“Any idea where he might be held up?” Jenny asked.

“Carla will know,” he replied.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Jenny was quick to offer. She could see his rage bubbling.

“No,” he said, cutting her off with a swift hand. “Get a response team ready, but I don’t want anybody doing anything without checking with me!”

He was out the door before any of the women could stop him. Denise was in tears, both for you and for Emily. Cassie wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“We’re gonna find them,” she promised.

You and Emily were in the backseat of an SUV. Buck was singing along to some country song, driving them down a highway to hell knows where. 

The tears had begun to dry on your cheeks. It didn’t mean you were no longer petrified, but for Emily, to give her support, you’d been able to keep breathing through it. She was still in panic mode, hyperventilating as tears streamed down her face.

“Y’all better quiet down back there,” Buck warned.

You grabbed Emily’s hands and met her frantic eyes with your calmer ones. You were hoping to reassure her, let her know that while you were scared too, you were with her. She wasn’t alone.

She squeezed your hands back, even though it made you wince. Your right hand was still injured. Again, you breathed through it so you could hold her back. You rested the side of your head against hers to try and help steady her further. If you could, you would’ve held her like a mother bear.

Emily leaned against your side and began to calm down, bit by bit. Meanwhile, Buck continued to talk your ears off—about country music, and how this particular song was the one he and Sunny danced to at their wedding. Though frankly, you couldn’t give a shit about anything that was coming out of his mouth.

All you knew was that it was nighttime, pitch black darkness by the time he pulled into a plaza. It looked like a gas station next to a bar.

Only in Montana, you mused. Though you perked up at attention when Buck parked and actually left the car.

Of course, he took the keys with him and put the child locks on the doors, but you tugged at the duct tape Buck put around your ankles when he’d forced you and Emily into this car. If you could get free, then you could shove your way into the front seat and unlock the doors.

Emily tried to help you. You winced as the tape tugged at your skin. At least I shaved yesterday.

She gasped around her gag when she saw a young man coming their way in the parking lot. You joined her in banging on the window, trying to get his attention.

“Oh my God,” you heard him say, muffled as it was through the window. You pointed at the front of the car, trying to communicate to him to break the window open there.

“Hold on, I’ll get you guys out of there,” he said. He went to the front of the car and tried at the door handles, but before he could get very far in his attempt to free you, Buck came up behind the younger man and grabbed him in a chokehold.

You and Emily screamed at him, but it was no use. You did your best to shield Emily’s eyes when Buck snapped the man’s neck.

Bad call, bad leadership, bad police work.

Beau felt the weight of his shame like never before—all while he held Carla and rocked her in his arms. She’d just arrived at the police station, after getting the news that her husband had been killed.

When he learned that Emily was taken, Avery tried to help Beau and the police confront the men he’d stolen the $15 million from, but Avery had gone rogue by bringing a gun into the equation.

Beau had just one chance to pull Avery out and send in his unit of officers on standby. Jenny had asked him what he wanted to do, hoping he would make the right choice.

Beau had been selfish. He wanted to see if the men would give up the location on where they were holding you and Emily, so he kept Avery in play. He’d thought the man would be fine with Tonya and Donno backing him up in the room.

After all was said and done, however, Avery lay dead in a pool of his own blood with a bullet in his chest. The criminals also hadn’t taken you or Emily.

By process of elimination, Beau now knew it was Buck. The man had already killed a hiker on his way out of the woods, where he’d been holding Paige.

Now it was a whole new manhunt.

“Beau,” Jenny said. “We have something on Buck.”

It prompted him to drag himself out of the dark spiral of his thoughts. He let Carla go, but kept a supportive hand on her back. She was still distraught, and understandably so—not just for her husband, but for her missing daughter.

Jenny gave Carla a sympathetic look. She beckoned him over though.

“Come see this,” she said.

Beau comforted Carla one moment more, rubbing her back, but she encouraged him to go with Jenny. She led him into another room where Cassie was waiting for them, and Jenny’s laptop was connected to a smart TV.

On the screen was new surveillance footage of a parking lot, outside a bar a few hours out of town. There was a green pickup truck parked next to a black SUV. Beau couldn’t see you or Emily, but he watched Buck drag the dead body of a man behind the truck.

“Buck was casing the lot for a car to steal,” Jenny said. “We’re guessing this unlucky guy found them.”

“It means they’re still alive,” Cassie pointed out. Jenny drew attention to the keys, or whatever it was that Buck dropped and picked up off the floor. It was hard to make out from the footage.

Cassie agreed to ask Cormack Barnes if he knew what the keys were for, considering he already had the keys to the pickup trick in his hand when he picked up the fallen set. Beau knew it was time to question Sunny Barnes again.

He headed down the hall to do just that, with Jenny on his heels. Soon though, he found himself slowing down in the hall, like his feet were made of rubber. That, and his heart was fracturing. Jenny slowed down with him, giving him a questioning look.

“It’s just…it’s the one thing we’re supposed to do. Protect our kids,” he said. “The one thing.”

“Hey,” she said. Her blue eyes were understanding. “You couldn’t have done anything differently.”

And yet again, they both knew that was a lie. Beau held a curled fist against his lips for a moment, as he tried to swallow down the lump of emotion in his throat.

“She’s gotta be so scared, Jenny,” he said. His eyes stung, but he tried to blink the unshed tears from his eyes. It wasn’t working.

“Both of them,” he said. “They’ve gotta be terrified. And every minute we waste chasing our tails just gives that twisted son a bitch a chance to do something to them—”

Jenny grabbed his arm to steady him. “I still think he’s keeping them alive for leverage.”

“Well, I hope you’re right, because there’s nothing stopping him from making an example from one of them,” he said.

But the moment it escaped his lips, he wished he hadn’t uttered the thought out loud. It was too much.

He felt like a failure of a father. That was already destroying him from the inside out. And though he’d vowed to himself otherwise, you got dragged into this too.

You’d already been through the wringer enough. Beau hadn’t even checked in on you in damn near a week since he left your apartment the last time.

Now, you’d been taken by the very same man who murdered your friend Mary. Beau hadn’t had the chance to tell you…

He hadn’t been able to tell you a lot of things.

And maybe, he’d never get the chance.

The pickup truck Buck stole had a small trailer attached, convenient for stuffing you and Emily in, along with the corpse he’d made of the truck’s owner.

On the long and bumpy ride down the road, you’d been able to search the dead man’s jeans and found a small pocketknife. You pressed a small button to click the blade open. You showed it to Emily, and then tried to cut her bonds.

You only got halfway through when the truck and trailer stopped. Moments later, you smelled gas. Buck was probably stopping for a refill on the pickup truck. You closed the knife and hid it in your hands. That instinct turned out to be a good one, because Buck slid the trailer door open.

You and Emily winced as the bright morning sun hit your bleary eyes. Not only had you not slept all night, but you’d gotten used to the perpetual darkness of the trailer.

“You girls behaving yourselves back here?” Buck asked.

You and Emily stayed quiet, but fearful. He stepped into the trailer to lower your taped gag, and then the girl’s. He uncapped a water bottle to give her some. It was a strangely humane thing to do, you thought.

But then you realized that he just didn’t want you two to pass out of dehydration. He was trying to keep you alive long enough to use you as bargaining chips.

“My dad’s going to find you,” Emily said, staring up at your captor. Buck chuckled at her cheek.

“You want water or not?” he asked.

“And when he does, he’s gonna kill you,” she said. Buck rolled his eyes and gave her a few sips of water. He offered the bottle to you next.

Instead of drinking, you used his distraction and proximity to pop open the pocketknife and jab it at his face. He pulled back fast, but you managed to sink the three-inch little blade into his neck. Buck backhanded you so hard, it made the side of your face crack against the back of the trailer.

Emily screamed and tried to catch you when you accidentally fell on her shoulder. When you recovered after a bit, blinking the black splotches out of your vision, Buck punched at the spot right above your heads and made you both flinch. By then, he’d taken the little knife out of his neck, even though it made a new wound ooze blood down his shirt.

“Forgot to check his pockets,” he gritted out. His anger then bled away, into a dark chuckle. “Gettin’ a little rusty.”

He poured out the rest of the water over your boots, but he didn’t make any further threats. At least, not physically. He stepped away and began to exit the trailer.

“Next time it’ll be gasoline and a lighter,” he warned. “Now both of you, shut the fuck up.”

Then he closed the door, casting you and Emily into darkness once again.

“You okay?” Emily whispered. You could barely make out her face in the dim light, coming from the smallest crack in the trailer door. You rolled your head her way so you could give her a smile.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied. Truthfully, your head was ringing and aching at the same time. Buck had knocked you out for a few seconds there. Plus, you were exhausted, and hungry, and parched.

“At least the gags are off,” she said. You nodded, letting out a sigh. You welcomed her to rest on your shoulder and tucked her wrapped hands under yours.

“We’ve just gotta keep holding out,” you said. “I’m sure your dad is on the way.”

Emily nodded in agreement. She believed every word of what she’d told Buck. She just hoped it was sooner rather than later.

It was much, much later.

Still, you and Emily were no better off. Actually, you were pretty sure this was worse.

Buck had driven you deep into the woods, then forced you to walk what felt like another half-mile until you reached a dusty old shack. He’d unlocked it and forced you both inside, kneeling in the dirt and dead leaves. Along with the duct tape already around your wrists, he’d tied you both up with ropes around the metal hooks hanging from the short roof.

Even with the gags off, it was hard to breathe in the hot, stuffy woodshed. It felt similar to being buried in a box and left to rot.

You weren’t sure how many hours it had been, but the sun was slowly inching by. If you had to guess, it was around mid-afternoon. You were sweating down your neck and back, now uncomfortable while kneeling in the jeans you were wearing. And sometimes, your vision started to blur in and out.

By now you were beyond hunger. Dying of thirst? Quite possibly.

“How’re you doing?” you asked Emily. She nodded, but she didn’t have much energy to talk either.

So instead, you tried to twist your wrists out of the rope. Very quickly you gave yourself burns, however. Buck had tied your bonds so very tight, not to mention the duct tape underneath.

What a fucking asshole, you thought. He could’ve at least left a bottle of water. Or some protein bars.

“How are they supposed to find us out here?” Emily asked. Her voice was small and coarse with exhaustion. You nudged her knee in comfort.

“The police will get it out of Buck, I’m sure,” you said. “Even if Beau can’t, damn certain Jenny will.”

You gave her a smile. Emily tried to smile back, but she didn’t quite make it there.

“God, I’m so thirsty,” she coughed.

“I know, I’m sorry,” you nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “All we can do is keep trying to get loose.”

You both tried twisting out of the ropes for a while, but it was no use. You were just going to bruise or cut your wrists further through the tape.

You knew that you and Emily had been in the woods for hours at this point, somewhere in the middle of the mountains. You tried not think about how unlikely it would be that someone actually heard you, let alone found you.

You knew you were the adult in this situation. You had to keep it together for the girl beside you, but after a while, a feeling of desperation and despair rose up again in your chest, no matter how hard you fought it all.

Tears welled up in your eyes, though you tried to breathe through it. Emily nudged your arm this time, giving you a comforting look.

“It’s gonna be okay,” she whispered. “I know Dad’s coming for us.”

Your lip wobbled, but you nodded and sucked in a breath. If she could be strong, then you could too…

And that was when you started to hear voices. You knew they weren’t just in your head, because Emily perked up too. You both called out the best you could to whoever was out there.

You squinted watery eyes when the door to the shed finally slid open.

Beau tested the limitations of Jenny’s SUV on his way out from the woods, and then back into them. 

At the very least, Buck was dead. 

Sunny had shot him—before they had gotten a location on you and Emily. Beau had been about to have a serious breakdown before Cassie called him. 

“They found them,” he’d told Jenny, with red and shining eyes. 

In another five miles, they reached the old cabin. Cassie had said there was a woodshed attached on the south side. Beau tore out of the car and sprinted up a hill, through a patch of dense trees, until he found the cabin and the shed. 

Cassie and Cormack were talking to someone just out of Beau’s eyeline, but his gaze focused on his daughter. The moment Emily saw him, she brightened and ran to him. He met her in the middle, grabbing her tight and secure in his arms.

His tears burned in his eyes and fell as he held her, comforted her, rubbing her back. She held onto him just as tightly.

He struggled and failed to keep himself together. Relief wasn’t even the word for how he felt; it was beyond words.

And it was almost unreal to be able to hold his daughter and see that she didn’t look hurt, just shaken.

“I’ve gotcha, sweetheart,” he said. “God, I’ve got you.”

Letting out the deepest breath, Beau’s gaze ventured past his daughter and up ahead. There he found you, being supported by Cassie up the hill. Beau’s eyes widened.

You were rubbing your wrists. They looked raw. Your eyes were also red and watery when they met his. Your breath seemed to catch as well.

Your name fell from Beau’s lips, his voice breaking. Emily looked up at her dad and had to smile. She even made room for you when you came up on his other side. Beau still kept his daughter tucked against him, but he reached for you as well and brought you into his embrace.

He felt your body shaking with quiet, wracking sobs. His heart broke for it, but he soothed a hand over your knotted hair and down your back.

“Shh, it’s okay now,” he whispered in your ear. His voice was choked with emotion. “I’ve got you, darlin’."

Never gonna let you go again, he thought.

You nodded, sniffling, but you kept your face buried against his chest.

Eventually, you lifted your head to meet his kind, if tearful eyes. He was a mess, and so were you. He was right though; you knew that it was all right now, as long as he was here.

You looked over at Emily, who was still hanging onto her father. You touched her shoulder.

“You okay?” you asked through tears. She nodded back at you with a smile.

“Good,” Beau said. “Let’s get you two home.”

You realized then that you were clinging to him like…like he was yours. 

“Oh,” you uttered, releasing his shirt. “I‘m sorry.” 

Beau’s eyes widened at the way you pulled away from him, unconsciously lowering your gaze. He frowned, and he pressed a gentle hand to your cheek, so you’d look at him again. 

“Don’t you do that,” he said, his voice still a bit unsteady.

Almost every cell in his body said to pull you back in. To sink his fingers in your hair, and to kiss you.

But he noticed Jenny, Cassie, Cormack, and even his daughter watching with some kind of smile on their faces. You stared up at him, teary eyed and waiting.

Beau cleared his throat.

He hesitated a bit too long, warring with himself all the while. So he just stroked your cheek and guided you, along with his daughter to the car.

You and Emily were going home.

AN: 🫣 Lol please don't hate me for the little tease at the end there. But how did you like how all the action and drama of the kidnapping unfolded?

Don't think this is the finale though. We've still got some drama and fun things to come. (Also, I think it's funny how this next particular chapter is going to post on my birthday lol.)

Next Time:

“I’m the one who needs you to forgive me,” he said, gently squeezing your arm. “I promised myself I would keep you safe, that I wouldn’t drag you into this mess. And I couldn’t keep my end of the deal.”

“Stop that,” you said. You grabbed the front of his shirt. “How many times do I have to say it’s not your fault before you get it in your stubborn head?”

It came out a bit snappish, but the moment your eyes met his, you both seemed to realize where your passions had led you. Just inches away from one another.

“Maybe one more time,” Beau said, in a quieter, but no less heady voice. There was a hint of humor in his eyes. You couldn’t help but smile back.

You released his shirt and instead, took his face in your hands.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 8

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Series Masterlist

Big Sky Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @globetrotter28 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @ades106

@charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @deans-baby-momma @tabsluvsu @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons

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#On the Edge of a Knife #Take Me Home #Part 7 #Beau Arlen series #big sky #beau arlen #beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x female reader #Emily Arlen #beau arlen x you #Jensen Ackles characters #big sky season 3 #Denise Brisbane #Jenny Hoyt #Cassie Dewell #zepskies writes

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt. 11)

Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer chooses you to be the mother of his child. Rated E for Explicit.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13

“Adam, for your transgression, you will be dealt with accordingly. For now, you are dismissed.” 

Adam’s voice and demeanor had become so grating to you that you actively blocked out the bitching that followed. You weren’t sure if, when he’d finally stopped having a foul-mouthed tantrum, a lot of time had passed or not. 

It didn’t matter when you were blessed with near silence at last. A slip of harsh gold out of the corner of your eye led you to believe that Adam’s lackey had followed him out. 

“Emily, please follow.”

“But Sera…” 

“No harm will come to her here. She just needs time.”

There was no need to look up, as the fluttering of Emily’s wings were now telltale in spite of how little you’d known her. 

“Go on.” 

You hadn’t seen her go, but it was like all the energy in the air had been sucked out as she left you behind. In her stead was a still, oppressive atmosphere where anxiety lingered to crawl up your spine the longer you sat in it. 

Sera was staring down at you. 

“Why…” Your voice was hoarse, even if you hadn’t been screaming or sobbing as you wanted to. 

Swallowing back the thickness that had built in your throat physically hurt. An errant thought that it shouldn’t (nothing should hurt anymore) passed you by. 

“Why am I here?” You looked up, staring back at Sera. 

The Angel considered you for a long moment. 

“Your place here has been ordained by the Father, a privilege bestowed upon you for your act of service.” 

The words from her lovely mouth didn’t make sense for so long that you almost asked the Seraphim to repeat herself. Your eyes narrowed as your gaze turned roundabout, as if whatever could make sense of this was somewhere in your surroundings. 

“I… Wait, I’d have thought that…” Head shaking, you implored Sera again with your eyes. “What service?”

“You delivered upon the world Christ’s opposing force through your union with —” Here, you saw Sera’s long throat flex with the effort of swallowing.

“Lucifer.” You finished, watching and confirming as Sera’s frame twitched that just the mention of the Devil made this powerful force uncomfortable. 

It was odd, but didn’t take away the pain that just mentioning his name brought. You felt as if a great gaping hole had been punched through your chest, taking with it all your vital organs and the power of your lungs.

Impressions of his anguished face and the sound of Charlotte crying were permanently etched in your mind. You bit down on your tongue, lest you scream your grief. 

It felt like they had died and not you. 

“I’ll never see them again.” Your head fell into your hands as you were overcome. “I barely got to hold my own baby.”

Sera sighed deeply, inching toward the War Table adjacent to you both. 

“I understand that leaving people behind can be painful.” Her great arms reached over the table, motioning until light rose from the board and took on fantastical shapes. “But time heals all.” 

Instead of comfort, her wisdom made you sniffle. You rubbed your eyes like a child to prevent the steady rise of tears threatening to escape. 

Through the blur, you saw Sera smile wanly. “You may feel grateful with time. Staying any longer could have led you further astray.” 

That made you pause between shuddering sobs. 

Fuck, you’d been sobbing on the floor of heaven.

Fucking Heaven. 

“W-what?” You asked finally.

Sera’s idle hands continued to create new sources of light and shape. You rose from the floor of cumulus and nimbus on jelly legs and walked toward her, for lack of anything else to do. 

A perfect sphere rose above the table, with little pinpricks of light surrounding it. It could’ve been anything but you had the sense to imagine it was a depiction of Earth. 

“Had you stayed mortal and lived another 10, 20, perhaps 30 years, you could have become susceptible to the enemy’s mindset.” Sera said. “It’s not unthinkable when human beings are often led by their hearts, even if it goes against their best interest.”

Your heart was jabbed with indignation at that.

“Acts of Service can become Acts of Sacrifice if one veers off the path.” She gently swirled around the Earth with one hand, and it fell into a tilt naturally before rotating among the stars. 

Sera eyed you from her peripheral as you stood beside her to watch. “You might’ve grown attached and… denied yourself.” 

“Hold on, please — just…” You closed your eyes after several moments.  “I’m here, in Heaven, because Lucifer asked that I be let up here when I died?” 

“That is correct.” Sera guided the stars in a variety of paths. 

“And you agreed because having his baby was actually a good thing?” You asked. “But how? Why would God want that to happen if the Devil is his enemy?”

“Life is all about balance.” The celestial took on the role of teacher naturally. “Light needs darkness to exist. This is how it has been and will always be, since He created the Heavens and the Earth.”

“Lucifer has gone on too long without an heir - Hell cannot be unmanned should anything happen to its King. To ensure that this would never come to pass, He agreed to certain terms, which have been abided by — despite Lucifer’s constant revisions.”

At that, the Seraphim looked borderline petulant. Her disapproval was clear in the way the many eyes that decorated her wingspan, hair and crown-like halo shrunk into slivered crescents.

“It’s been centuries since he was ordered to conceive a child. Out of Love, the Father bestowed an exorbitant amount of time on him to make it happen. Once you were found and the contract was signed, your place in Heaven was guaranteed as stipulated.” She halted her recital to spare a glance your way.

“His ways can be opaque, but they are always meant to take us in the right direction.” Sera offered after a lull, to dispel the dumbfounded look on your face. You could see the way her lips pursed, as if daring to question that explanation was an affront to her existence. As if what she’d just told you didn’t change your perception so thoroughly that your head was spinning.

Self-preservation no longer being a factor, you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, ‘God works in mysterious ways’.” You mocked. “People say that when they don’t know what to say. But you actually work under God, don’t you??” 

“That is a crude way to describe my role here.” Sera responded with reproach. 

“But essentially correct.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “You take orders from Him, clearly.”

The Seraphim’s manicured nails pierced through the infinitely shifting stars, fingers curling into a claw as the line of her mouth grew severe. Her brow downturned as she faced you, irritated. 

“Just like Lucifer took orders from Him, I bet.” The pieces were slotting into place. “Until he… until he… did exactly what he was supposed to.” 

You laughed with disbelief at the revelation, hands coming up to grab at your thankfully unchanged hair. The starlight before you began to dim, falling back into the passive marble of the war table. Sera pivoted rather abruptly, a touch of disquiet in her fractured facade as she took in your dysfunction. 

Her gaze became shifty, and you caught it, but it was the least of your concerns. You were in the middle of a manic breakdown for the second time in less than an hour. 

Lucifer didn’t like to talk about Heaven — that was evident from his stuttering when he first revealed himself to you. So, whether it was out of the goodness of your heart or built-in doormat passivity, you hadn’t discussed the place. Truthfully, you’d thought very little of it as a place and more as a concept, even when the Devil came knocking on your door in flesh and blood. 

It was an uphill battle to calm yourself. You closed your mouth to stop the laughing and coughed at the tickle to your throat. You’d never been good at breathing through your nose. Arms slid down to clutch at your stomach and center yourself, frame slowly easing out of the hyperventilation.  

“So… God damned his own son to Hell and made him into Heaven’s Big Bad for the sake of balance… And he wanted that Big Bad to have a child like He Himself did, also for the sake of balance…” 

‘And Lucifer agreed as long as you got to go to eternal paradise…’

Your summation was stated lifelessly, a knife’s edge away from sarcastic. The big secret to Life was out: it was all a fun little show that God put on for himself to stave off boredom. Even those he held closest weren’t safe from it. 

“An-nd you’ve never ever questioned this?” You asked faintly, a crooked smile of disbelief on your face. “Ever?”

A breeze blew back the hair that had fallen into your face.

Sera was suddenly so much closer in proximity, and you flinched back at the power exuding from her like an aura. 

“We do not question the Father.” The Seraphim’s glower betrayed her true feelings toward you. Yet, instead of continuing to back away from the hostility, you forced yourself to stand in place as best you could. 

It gave you whiplash when Sera’s pinched face relaxed. She straightened up with another deep, deep sigh. The danger that felt like static electricity dissipated from your skin, but you held onto the edge of the war table regardless. 

The light show had gone off as quickly as it was turned on. You felt its loss of warmth as sharply as you’d felt Emily’s. 

“Lucifer was unable to fully grasp the Great Purpose.” Sera was imposing as she straightened to her fully height and towered above you once again. “He questioned everything, and for it he Fell.” 

“And I would suggest,” The Seraphim glared at you as if you were an insect she wanted to crush. “that you do not emulate his sin. For the sake of your immortal soul.” 

***

Tag List: @crescent-z, @for-hearthand-home, @undertale-is-sansational, @loslox, @navierkalani, @yaimlight, @ivoryviness, @crystalplays28, @flowerempress, @wally-darling-hyperfixation, @altruisticradiodemon, @moonlight-readings, @halparkebitch, @charliecharlie65, @sockgoblin, @cocomollo, @caniseethefourthsword, @squeegeeclean, @crow-twink, @an-emovision, @marydragneell, @lafy-taffy, @fandom-imagines1, @loquacious-libra, @glowymxxn, @avadakadabra93, @froggybich, @hamthepan, @ukor02, @adaizel, @boogiemansbitch, @vinillies, @lbcreations-blog, @thesoundresoundsecho, @serenity-loves-red, @alientee, @aquaamythest96, @0strawberrysorbet0, @fluffy-koalala, @washeduphazbin, @rebecca-hvnstn, @velvette3, @kermitdafroggy, @wpdarlingpan, @apatcheworkofproblems, @cherry-cola-100, @pink-apples001, @al-of-the-stars, @backinthefkingbuildingagain, @martinys-world, @alastorssimp, @wobblesthewaffle, @shikiribee, @undertale-anomaly20, @asakura-fangirl-stuff, @ringsofpersonti, @angelicwillows, @wingoodlilboymyway, @cimadreamer, @museofzealoushope, @oneiric-rotaerc, @call-me-nyxx

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar x you #hazbin hotel x reader #Thank y’all for being patient #good news is there will be more chapters bc I cut this one in half #bad news is Lucifer’s whereabouts are put on pause a chapter longer than anticipated

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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