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#if emilie is good then maybe rose
kindaorangey · 2 years
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okay you know what. i'm coming around to the idea of sentiadrien
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slytherinslut0 · 6 months
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MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me
Chapter Four- Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.
(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Theos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)
Tags: 18+, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Dirty Talk, Toxic Behaviour, Blackmail, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, Jealousy, TomRiddle, weaponizing!Tom (slightly?), Possessive Behaviours, Manipulation
****FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.
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"Outstanding, naturally," you said, your voice laced with confidence and your grin so wide it seemed to stretch beyond the boundaries of your face. "Must you even ask?"
The morning sunlight filtered through the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall, casting a warm glow over the room as you and your friends gathered for breakfast. Emily, your blonde-haired friend that you've known since your very first day here, couldn't help but to snicker at your bluntness, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she shoved a forkful of eggs into her mouth.
It’d been almost two weeks since you’d last met with Mattheo, since there was no tutor session last week due to your exam in Advanced Magical Studies. Admittedly, you were thankful for the break.
"Is there any subject where you don't get perfect  grades?" Your other friend Michael said, widened eyes glancing at your marked exam in your hands. "You're a natural born Ravenclaw prodigy...I don't know how you do it, I simply can't wrap my head around it."
Emily, in between bites, nodded vigorously, her admiration evident. "It's true, you seem to effortlessly ace every bloody class. Meanwhile, I'm literally up to my neck in notes, struggling away in hopes of achieving a Meets Expectations."
"Come on, Emily," you said, sitting up a bit taller in your seat. "You earned an Outstanding on the exam too. Your intelligence and dedication are remarkable. You give yourself far too little credit."
She shrugged, taking a moment to chew her food thoughtfully. "Maybe," she conceded, her eyes briefly meeting yours. "But your brilliance seems innate, effortless. It's both inspiring and, I must admit, a tad infuriating."
The corners of her lips twitched into a half-smile, acknowledging the mix of admiration and friendly jealousy in her words. You couldn't help but to blush at her compliments, feeling proud of just how much your intense studies over the years have paid off. Your friends know just how much of your life you've dedicated to your education, and that by this point--after grinding away for years and years, the knowledge was just seamless to you. It just came naturally.
"Good morning, my dear students," came a gentle yet resonant voice from directly behind you, shattering the comfortable silence. "And how might you find yourselves on this delightful, sun-filled morning?"
As you turned, you were met with the twinkling eyes of Professor Dumbledore, his warm presence enveloping the room with ease.
You rose from your seat, your hands clasped together in front of you. "Good morning, Professor; it's always a pleasure to see you. I'm wonderful, how about yourself?"
Your friends gave similar responses, each earning an attentive nod.
"Very good, very good," Dumbledore's voice resonated warmly, his eyes crinkling with a kind smile. "Thank you all."
His gaze shifted to you, a mix of gentleness and concern in his eyes. "I would be grateful for a moment of your time in my office, if you could spare it. It concerns your peer tutoring sessions. Would you be able to join me before the day's lessons commence?”
A sickening twist gripped your stomach, causing your once radiant smile to shatter into fragments. You battled to shield your fear, but it threatened to consume you--every horrifying possibility flooding your mind in a torrent.
Your eyes were drawn involuntarily across the room, zeroing in on the Slytherin table, only to find the devil himself, Mattheo Riddle, the harbinger of your academic ruin--was already fucking staring, smug arrogance practically radiating off of him as he relished your clear discomfort. His calculating gaze felt like a vulture circling its prey, keenly observing every nuance of your nervous demeanour--and you were certain you were about to collapse to the floor. 
Snapping yourself from your trance, you returned your eyes to your Professor, mustering up the best fake smile you possibly could. "Absolutely, Professor--it's no trouble at all."
"Wonderful," he smiled, nodding. "Shall we?"
With a subtle nod, he gracefully guided you out of the Great Hall, your fingers tightly clutching the strap of your bag after bidding your friends goodbye. Your heart raced in your chest, the anticipation of the impending conversation tightening its grip on your every nerve. You trailed closely behind Dumbledore, the echo of your footsteps blending with the murmur of distant conversations.
As you approached the Hall's exit, Dumbledore's movements came to an abrupt halt. He spun around with a swift grace, his piercing eyes sweeping across the tables like a lighthouse beam cutting through the fog, searching for someone specific amidst the bustling sea of students.
And when his searching gaze finally landed on the person he sought, he outstretched his arm, a subtle wave beckoning them to follow. Your eyes widened in complete horror as Riddle stood up, tossing his bag over his shoulder with an air of arrogant nonchalance. Slowly, he began making his way toward you, his every step seemingly echoing off the walls of your mind.
The lot of you moved briskly, following Dumbledore to his office, Mattheo not deigning to acknowledge your existence except for the few brief, unsettling glances he kept throwing your way, a knowing smirk plastered across his face, practically casting a shadow of impending doom over your academic future.
As you entered Dumbledore's office, your heart continued to race with fear, the heavy weight of impending disaster hanging over you like a storm cloud. Dumbledore gestured for you and Riddle to sit down, the creaking of the chairs adding to the palpable tension in the room. You could hardly bear to look at Riddle, certain that his presence here meant he had failed the exam. Your post-graduate career seemed destined to crumble before it even began.
Your mind spun with catastrophic thoughts, the urge to throw up from nerves clawing at your throat. Just as you prepared yourself for the devastating news, Dumbledore's voice cut through the suffocating silence like a lifeline.
"Well, I must be frank, and I hope you won't take offense, Mister Riddle," his tone was incisive, his words carrying a weight of honesty. "I didn't harbor high hopes for substantial improvement in your academic pursuits when you commenced this new tutoring arrangement. Considering your history and the difficulty you faced in finding a suitable mentor, my expectations were rather restrained."
Your breath caught in your throat, your head spinning, nerves screaming in fear as Dumbledore spoke. His gaze was penetrating, his words hanging heavily in the air. He straightened in his chair, clasping his hands together in front of him.
"However, it is entirely safe to say that I was beyond pleased when I found out that you had achieved an 'Exceeds Expectations,' on your recent exam--which, if I may point out, is your highest grade thus far."
Your mind reeled, struggling to grasp the reality of the situation. Dumbledore's words echoed in your ears, and your jaw dropped in utter shock.
"Exceeds expectations," you repeated, your eyes wider than the sun and just as blaring. "Exceeds expectations! Mattheo, that's amazing!"
When you glanced at Mattheo, his eyes practically glimmered with a peculiar mix of pride and smug arrogance. His confident smirk persisted, etched on his features as he reclined casually in the chair beside you, choosing to remain silent; but you both knew exactly what the other was thinking.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with approval as he continued. "Your efforts in guiding Mister Riddle have not only benefited him but also showcased your exceptional skills as a tutor. It's a rare talent to break through someone's barriers, especially someone as formidable as he...I encourage both of you to continue this fruitful collaboration, nurturing each other's potential to the fullest."
You were gleaming. Screaming. On the verge of tears. This felt like a miracle, like music to your ears. The surge of emotions threatened to overwhelm you; you wanted to run until your legs gave out, to kiss Mattheo's stupidly infuriating face until it was raw. This was all you had ever wanted, more than anything else in the world.
"Thank you so much Professor," you beamed, your voice filled with excitement. "Your encouragement means more to me than you could ever begin to imagine."
"No, thank you, dear," Dumbledore said, a benevolent smile gracing his features. "Oh, and since I have you here, I was actually wondering if you'd be interested in joining the Hogwarts Mentorship Guild. Currently, it's coincidentally being overseen by Mister Riddle's brother, Tom...I do believe it would be an immensely beneficial experience for you. It's quite selective, but with my personal recommendation, your entry would be assured. You'd have weekly meetings with Tom and the other members-"
Every word that fell from Dumbledore's lips ignited an exhilarating flutter in your chest, a surge of excitement threatening to crack your ribcage open and pierce through your heart. The prospect of joining the prestigious club had been a cherished dream for years, and now, the reality of it was overwhelming. You basked in the euphoria, savoring the moment, until Mattheo's voice abruptly shattered the joy that had filled your soul.
"Professor, if I may," Mattheo spoke up, his tone surprisingly earnest as he straightened in his chair; his jaw tensed and his eyes dark. "I was actually wondering if she could tutor me in Potions as well...I could definitely use the help...it's been rough, to say the least."
His request hung in the air, creating a pause charged with unexpected tension. The elation that had filled you moments ago now mingled with apprehension as Dumbledores gaze darted between the two of you, his demeanour shifting as he leaned back in his chair.
"That would be up to her, Mister Riddle...I would imagine you'd struggle with doing all three, my dear witch...how about you think on it, and get back to me in a weeks time with what you'd prefer to do, yes?"
With anger simmering beneath your skin, you nodded and mustered a fake smile as you stood up. You extended your hand, shaking Dumbledore's firmly, concealing the turmoil within you. After exchanging polite goodbyes, assuring him of your prompt response, you spun on your heels with a sense of urgency that left Mattheo in your dust. Ignoring his calls that faded into the distance, you marched toward your dorm room, determined to shut out the world and the infuriating presence of Mattheo Riddle.
Right now, you wanted absolutely nothing to do with him--nothing at all. But of course, he wasn't having that.
The heavy, urgent pounding on your door reverberated through the room, rattling your bones and intensifying your annoyance. Mattheo's relentless assault on the door seemed never-ending, refusing to halt for even a moment. Fearing the spectacle he might create in the hallway and the questions it would spark among your peers, you reluctantly decided to put an end to the commotion.
With a surge of anger-fueled determination, you swung the door open, gripping a fistful of his tie between your infuriated fingers as you pulled him inside. The door slammed shut behind him, the noise echoing your frustration, and you kept your grasp on his tie, shoving his back up against the wood of your door.
"Potions?" you hissed, your voice laced with seething anger as you pressed against him. "In the name of the four fucking founders, Riddle, potions?"
He blinked, clearly startled by the intensity of your rage. "What-"
"You're about to shatter one of my lifelong dreams just because you can't handle a cauldron and some bloody ingredients?" you spat through gritted teeth, eyes burning with fury. "Are you genuinely that hopelessly inept?"
Your response was met with a suffocating silence, his lips parting as if searching for words that never materialized. His jaw clenched, his eyes darting away briefly, a clear sign of his inner turmoil. The weight of his silence only fueled the blaze of your anger.
"Haven't you taken enough from me?" you hissed, the emotion in your tone nearly tangible. "Haven't you wreaked sufficient havoc on my life?"
Mattheo's eyes darkened, his irises smoldering with unspoken fury as he silently wrestled with his words. His fists clenched at his sides, the intensity of his emotions evident, yet the silence persisted. You could practically feel the weight of his suppressed anger hanging heavily in the air.
"You really have nothing to fucking say, do you?" you spat, your voice sharp with disappointment. "The arrogant Slytherin prince, always ready with a cutting remark, suddenly struck dumb when he's called out...how utterly predictable."
You scoffed, your frustration mounting as his inability to respond only fueled the fire of your own indignation.
"You're unbelievable." You said, finally releasing his tie and spinning away from him, moving across the room with deliberate pace before you spun back around, meeting his dark eyes from against the opposite wall. "I'm happy that your grades are improving under my guidance but I think you'll have to find someone else to tutor you in potions...I'm sorry, Mattheo."
Riddle blinked, stepping forward. "I don't need help in potions."
You paused. You weren't sure if you'd even heard him correctly. "What?"
"I don't need help in potions." He repeated, taking another step.
"You don't-" your brows pinched, your words falling short as Mattheo veered closer. "But you-"
"My grades are bad, yeah," he said, voice low and hoarse. "But I'm not failing. And I certainly don't need a tutor."
Your chest constricted. You weren't following him. "Then why? Why'd you say that to Dumbledore?"
He inhaled sharply through his nose, his jaw locking with tension. Swallowing hard, his throat worked as he landed himself roughly an arms length away from you, his eyes darker than the midnight sky and twice as intense.
"Because," he said, taking a singular step closer. "I don't want you anywhere near him."
His words slammed your chest so hard you almost fell over. "Excuse me?"
"My brother," he said, his tone flat and unwavering. "I don't want you anywhere fucking near my brother."
Your jaw dropped, the air catching in your lungs. A whirlwind of conflicting emotions engulfed you, each one sparking a fire in your core that you desperately wished to ignore. Your head spun, torn between the lingering anger and the new surge of shock and disbelief at his words.
"You're not serious..." you spat, peering up at him as he loomed over you, hastily taking a step back to create some distance between you. "Riddle, please tell me you're fucking joking."
"Do I look like I'm joking?" he replied, his expression carved from stone, taking another step closer and erasing the space you had just tried to create. "Huh, Raven? Do I?"
Anger swelled inside you, clouding your vision. "You've lost your fucking mind," you said, your voice dropping so low you weren't even sure if he'd heard you. "You're being controlling, Mattheo. That's...you can't just..."
Mattheo tilted his head, backing you up against the wall, a predatory glint in his eyes that made your stomach flip. "I can't, what?"
Your throat went dry, his hands pressing against the wood on either side of your head. "You can't just-"
Your words were cut short as Mattheo leaned in, his lips brushing against yours. "Can't what, Raven?" he murmured, his voice a dangerous whisper. "Go on, spit it out."
Gods, curse him. Curse him to bloody hell.
"You can't just control my life like you own it, Mattheo," you whispered against his lips, ignoring the fiery desire that flared within you, something you fought fiercely to suppress. "Outside of that classroom, you don't hold any power over me."
Mattheo's lips curled into a sly, taunting smile, his eyes glinting with challenge. "Oh, Raven," he murmured, his voice a dangerous whisper, "you have no idea how wrong you are...inside that classroom or out, you're mine to control...I believe I've proven that today--you'd have never gotten the offer to join that fucking club if it wasn't for my improved grades."
You scowled, your back pressing firmly against the wall as his lips trailed down to your jawline. Frustration mingled with desire, a dangerous combination that sent your senses reeling.
You cursed yourself inwardly, loathing the way your resolve seemed to crumble under his touch. Why did a boy this bad have to look so fucking sweet? Why did a boy this bad for you have to taste so fucking good?
"No...you're wrong, Mattheo..." you whispered, your voice trembling, trying to inject conviction into your words despite the turmoil inside you. "You're so fucking wrong."
"Am I, Raven?" He teased, his voice smug, one hand shifting to cup the side of your face, thumb brushing over your cheek. "So you're saying, that if I told you to get on your knees for me, right now in the middle of your dorm room like my good little whore, you wouldn't do it?" His lips grazed your ear, your lids fluttering involuntarily. "Or...if I told you to take off your shirt so I could cum all over those beautiful fucking tits of yours, you'd say no...hm?"
Your breath caught in your throat, his touch and words igniting a fierce battle within you. As much as you knew the next words form your lips were an entire fucking lie, you simply couldn't help yourself. Merlin knows your body and mind were betraying you, all you had left was your mouth--which was never known to go down without a fight.
"That's right, Riddle..." you whispered, your voice barely audible, betraying the tremor in your resolve. "I'd say no...one million times over I'd say no..."
Mattheo groaned, the noise reverberating down your spine as he breathed it directly into your eardrum. Your thighs screamed in need at the sound--your stomach flipping as his hand slid into your hair, cradling the back of your neck.
"And if I asked you to kiss me?" He murmured, his intense gaze locking onto yours. "Would you still say no then?"
Your heart was beating so hard you were certain he could hear it. "I...I would..."
"Yeah?" He said, his voice a sultry whisper, wetting his lips as he glimpsed yours. "You sure about that, Raven?"
Your lungs sputtered, trying your best to keep your composure as you nodded, glimpsing his lips now. "I'm sure, Mattheo..."
His nails dug into your neck, every inch of your body ablaze as your gaze darted between his dark, intoxicated eyes and his plush, inviting lips. You cursed yourself, the internal struggle fierce and unrelenting. You cursed yourself so intensely, you could almost taste the bitterness of your own self-reproach.
"Mm." He hummed, grazing his lips over yours with feather like precision, before he pulled back. "And what would I have to do to change your mind, huh? Do you want me to fucking beg, princess?"
A low, desperate sound escaped your lips, a primal mewl reverberating in your chest. "That might help..." you breathed. "Maybe if you got on your knees while you did, it'd be far more effective..."
"Fuck...I've created a monster, haven't I..." he huffed, smirk teasing his perfect fucking lips, both hands falling to your hips as he slowly dropped to his knees in front of you. "A beautiful, slutty little monster..."
You were speechless, body blazed with desire, torn between the intense pull in his eyes and the irresistible temptation of his lips. Holy fucking hell you wanted to kiss him so unbelievably bad, you weren't sure how much longer you could continue playing this little game; the desire only strengthening as he ran his hands along your curves, rough palms smoothing down your thighs as he peered up at you--chocolate curls sitting messy over his forehead, his dark eyes burning wounds into your flesh.
"Kiss me, Raven..." he whispered, holding your sight, voice strained weigh desire so intense it was palpable. "Please, fucking kiss me."
That did it. That absolutely did it.
Without a second thought, you bent at the waist, seizing his tie and directing his mouth to yours, your lips crashing onto his in a feverish, desperate kiss. At the passionate connection, a low moan slid past your teeth, your fingers entwining in his hair, deepening the kiss. His tongue sought entrance, and you willingly granted it, eliciting a low, primal growl from him. His hands tightened around the backs of your thighs, anchoring you in place, not daring to move an inch higher.
Mattheo nipped your bottom lip, smirking as he tugged on it gently before releasing it, blinking as he met your eyes. "I love the way you moan for me, Raven..." he purred, hands slowly moving up, slipping under your skirt. "You have no idea what I could fucking do to you."
You whimpered as his hands slid higher, gripping your ass under your skirt, his face dangerously close to your sex. Your fingers curled tightly into his hair, gripping the strands within your palms as your entire body quivered. His lips left a trail of hot, fervent kisses along your outer thigh, igniting a path of tingling sensations in their wake.
"Gods..." you moaned, unable to form any other coherent word as his hands explored and caressed places on your body that no one else had ever touched before. "Mattheo..."
"Fucking hell..." he groaned, his grip tightening. "If you do that again I might not be able to stop myself Raven...I might have to rip this fucking skirt off and make you moan my name over and over until it's the only word you remember..."
Your breath caught in your throat, your head spinning in a whirlpool of desire at his words. Every fiber of your being trembled, quivering under his touch. Mattheo pulled himself up to his feet, his hands still firmly gripping your ass as he pressed himself against you, the strength of his grip pulling your crotch against his. Even through the fabric of his trousers, you could feel his aggressive erection pressing against you.
Involuntarily, you moaned again.
"Mhm, that’s right...” Mattheo hummed, wet lips grazing your ear. "…and you say I don't have control over you..." he purred, licking a slow line up the side of your throat. "You're fucking melting for me and I've barely touched you, Raven..."
His mention of control snapped you back to your senses, not wanting your earlier anger to be neutered so easily, despite the lake pooling between your thighs for this cunning enigma of a man.
"I'm still mad at you, Mattheo..." you managed to croak out, head falling back as he pressed his lips to your neck. "You can't keep doing this...you can't keep sweet-talking me out of my anger for you.”
"Is that what you think I'm doing here?" He huffed, one hand leaving your ass and gripping your hip with enough force to shatter your bones. "Maybe I just can't keep my fucking hands off of you...maybe I like knowing I'm the only one who's ever touched you like this, the only one who's ever fucked your throat and seen those perfect tits of yours...maybe I don't like sharing...maybe I don't like the thought of my brother getting you alone and trying to take what's mine..."
You whimpered, chest constricting. "And you told me not to get attached?" You said, ignoring the burning, screaming flames that ignited at his admission. "You're utterly delusional...I'm not your fucking toy-"
“Yes you are.” He huffed, a deviant grin crawling over his lips. "And believe me, I'm not attached, princess..." he said. "I'm possessive, and there's a fucking difference. I know my brother...I know exactly how he operates."
"If it's anything like how you do, then I can understand your concern." You scoffed, not even attempting to hide your smirk. "But I'm not a child, I don't need protection. And believe me when I tell you, one irritating Riddle man in my life is more than enough."
His jaw tensed at your words, and he loosened his grip, almost fully releasing you, but not quite. "You can do all three."
You paused, lips parting, but he cut you off, sensing your incoming confusion. "Tutoring me in advanced magical studies and potions…plus the stupid club. You can do all three."
"What?" You were dumbfounded, nearly speechless. "I-I can't, Riddle...Dumbledore said-"
"He's only saying that because he thinks you'd actually have to tutor me in potions...we can just make him think you are...imagine how impressed he'll be when you tell him-"
"Oh, Mattheo! That's brilliant!" You beamed, excitement filling your eyes, all of your earlier anger and concern and disappointment seemingly flowing from your flesh, dissipating into the charged air. You gripped his face, giving him a kiss on the cheek, smirking as you pulled back. "You really changed your mind rather quickly."
"I see how much it upset you." He shrugged, stepping back and shoving his hands into his pockets. "I don't want to interfere with your goals, Raven. I just want you to know that even though he's my brother, I won't refrain from kicking his fucking ass if he tries anything."
Your jaw fell open like you wanted to reply, but words would fail you, and he smirked. “Tell Dumbledore you’ll do it. And I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
Without giving you the chance to respond, he spun around, briskly making his way out of your dorm without another bloody word--leaving you entirely at a loss, unable to comprehend what the hell just happened.
————
CHAPTER FIVE->
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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 7 months
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DAY FIVE: Mistress Kink w/ Emily Prentiss
a/n: OKAY LISTEN. I did NOT mean to miss a day. I ended up falling asleep then I was super busy for the rest of the night so it totally slipped my mind, but here it is now!! Hope yall are excited for some grey haired dommy mommy Emily! This is for my fellow wlw out there, I love yall! MWAH ;*
masterlist | kinktober masterlist | AO3
TAGLIST: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon @zippertwat @hallecarey1 @alixwriter @their-love
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There was something about Emily’s presence that commanded respect wherever she went, her aura darkened with a certain kind of dominance that many people had difficulty putting their finger on. Maybe it was because she was the Unit Chief, or that before her promoted status all those years ago, she was a woman with many secrets.
Of course, you knew though, because you were her wife, and even in the bedroom she held herself in high regard, so who were you to treat her with anything less?
“Mistress?” You asked quietly, body twitching in slight nervousness as her fingertips stroked the curve of your bare back in an up and down motion, her touch featherlight. Your body was always so sensitive to her touches, and after years of being intimate with her, she had fine tuned and tweaked your nerves like a guitar.
She’d had you stripped down to nothing and laid over her lap, your naked breasts resting on her pant clad thighs. You had no idea what you had done to invoke a punishment, but you honestly don’t think that this is what that was, because your ass would have already been spanked raw due to you rubbing your thighs together to relieve your aching core without her permission.
“Sh…” She soothed you to silence by gently caressing the globes of your ass. “You did nothing wrong, my pretty girl. I just want to appreciate my wife, can’t I do that?” She asks softly, her fingers now stroking your wet slit teasingly. Your breath hitched in your throat, fingers twitching from where they gripped the sheets.
“Yeah,” You sighed, body going lax in her hold. “Of course you can, mistress.” 
She hummed thoughtlessly, the pad of her finger descending through your soaked folds, and slipping inside of you. A wanton moan caught in the back of your throat, your head lifting up from where it faced down. There were times like these where all Emily wanted to do was give, with no expectation for anything in return. It was possible she was involved with a case where someone lost their lover, or a situation that probably hit too close to him that possessed her to act like this. Not that you were complaining.
You cried out when she added another finger, the length of her aged digits rubbing against your sensitive and velvety walls deliciously, the pads of her fingers pressing your spongy g-spot. Her movements were soft and full of love, no urgency in her movements as she dragged out your pleasure. 
Your orgasm slowly bubbled in your gut, twisting when she finally added her third and final finger.
“Oh!” You gasped. “Mistress… please!” Your chest rose and fell with your pleas. 
“I got you my sweet girl.” She praised over your loud noises, but her ministrations sped up, the twist of her wrist getting rougher in order to drag you to your orgasm faster.
Your cunt squelched lewdly, painting her three digits in your slick as your noises grew louder and louder and the coil in your stomach grew tighter and tighter. 
“I- I-” You couldn’t finish your sentence before you came, quaking and squirming on your wife’s lap. Your sight went white when you came, your ears ringing and your veins lighting on fire. She worked you through it, rubbing your lower back and twisting her wrist into your cunt until you jumped in overstimulation, tiny, pained whimpers slipping through your lips. 
“You did so good, sweetheart. So, so, good.” She praised. 
“Thank you, mistress.” You said breathlessly through a sleepy smile on your face.
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luveline · 1 year
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hi my love <3 happy valentines, im coming over w a kiss rn!! for the event could i req "you got me flowers?" w spence please? maybe reader giving them to him hehe love u
luveline's valentine's mini party ♥︎
happy valentine's my love, thank you for your request! always tired reader x spencer is my new fave pairing of all time!! fem!reader
When Spencer arrives at work that morning you're already sitting down at your desk. It is regrettably far from his, and it's purposefully done. Hotch doesn't care that you're seeing one another, doesn't mind the occasional affection you share in from of the team, but he draws the line at your amazing and incessant chatter. You and Spencer never stop talking. Spencer has a lot to say, and you indulge him. 
Or maybe you don't indulge. Maybe you just love him. He's never had the idea that you might not want to hear what he has to say. 
He doesn't even look at his own desk, beelining straight for you where you're half asleep on your own, your ipod on your desk, an earphone in one ear. You're likely listening to an audio book — Spencer buys you enough of them. 
"Hey," he says, putting his hand on your shoulder, "good morning." 
You tilt your head away from his touch and look at him through your lashes, giving him a tired but pretty smile.
"Well, hello, my love," you say softly. "You look nice today." 
"You say that everyday," he complains. 
"And everyday it's true…" 
He likes how quietly you talk when you're tired —there's a wispy quality to each word, some light teasing— but you're being tired isn't conducive to a good day. He puts the coffee he'd bought for you by your ipod and kisses the top of your head as discreetly as he can. You barely respond. He doesn't take it personally. 
Spencer turns back to his desk and finally recognises the change. There's a rather large bouquet of flowers on the desk, the fancy kind that comes in a box with a ton of added foliage and baby's breath. He thinks for a moment they've been delivered to the wrong desk, after all, Emily's is right beside his, but he knuckles through the soft green stalks of crimson roses, pincushions and white carnations for the card held between. 
It's decorated with a sloping cursive that doesn't belong to anyone he knows. 
Spencer, 
I love you. Thank you for the coffee. 
He smiles at the flowers and saves the card. It'll make a good bookmark. 
"You got me flowers?" he asks, approaching you again. 
The printer beeps loudly and makes you wince. You spin in your chain and beckon for him to come forward until you can rest your face against his stomach. 
"Look at you, my little detective." 
He loves when you make fun of him. It sounds especially cute in your quiet mumbling. He drops his hands to the back of your head and feels very grateful to know that the only people who get here on time are the two of you as he strokes your hair. 
"Can I ask why?" 
"You know, don't you? I wrote it on the card." 
"You got me flowers because I got you a coffee?"
Your laugh is warm against his stomach despite the barrier of his shirt and sweater. "No, smarty-pants." You yawn and snuggle closer. "I love you." 
"Oh," he says. He pulls your face from his front and frames it in his hands. "I love you too, obviously."
"I know," you say, blinking slowly. 
He rubs your cheek with his thumb. You lean into it and shut your eyes like a puppy getting scratches. 
"Do you want flowers?" he asks. 
You hum. He has no idea what it means. 
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strawbeerossi · 11 months
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Just Know, I Love You
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Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Reader hasn't been her usual self after a breakup months prior. Spencer takes notice of this, using her love of Valentine's Day and his own plans to try and bring a smile to her face while telling her how much he cares about her.
Content Warnings: Nothing bad, tooth rotting fluff, Spencer being sweet, pining, admitting feelings, ends with a kiss 🩷
Word Count: 1.1K
This blurb is my most favorite thing that I have ever written. Enjoy this little blurb that I thought of today on my lunch break.
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“Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope." Maya Angelou
Spencer was never one for romance, mainly because he wasn't the type to have women falling over each other to get to him. He would admit that he didn't have a clue on what he would do anyway. He wasn't going to trouble himself with those thoughts for any hypothetical relationship.
Y/N was a great exception to his rule though.
It was a few months ago that she and her boyfriend ended up breaking up. Spencer could recall her coming into the office looking purely broken and exhausted. From what she had told him, they were doing well.
They were even looking for houses, he remembered. However, things came crashing down on Y/N's world when she was made aware that her boyfriend was cheating on her the entire course of their relationship.
Now, personally, Spencer didn't even understand how anyone could ever think of finding anyone else when they had her. She was the whole package; a good sense of humor, kind, a beautiful smile, and the best laugh that he'd ever heard. One that he missed terribly.
Y/N used to come in with a big smile on her face every morning, bringing coffee for Spencer because those two liked more sugar than the bitter black coffee that they would see Hotch or Rossi drink. They would joke about how they had to have had sugar packets hidden in their offices, maybe even hidden creamer and other things.
Valentine's Day was coming up, it usually being one of Y/N's favorite holidays. She was a hopeless romantic, loving the idea of a whole dedicated to nothing but love and appreciation.However with a sour view of love, she wasn't as upbeat as she was.
He noticed her all week, quietly moping around the office. It killed him inside. Spencer even asked if she wanted to decorate the office with him, something she usually would've been way too eager to do. This time though, he was met with glassed over eyes, a sad smile that even had a little bit of a lip quiver, and the assurance that the day was just any other.
That killed him more than anything. She was hurting to the point where she was avoiding the day entirely.
Spencer had a plan. So, the morning of Valentine's Day, he was picking them up an overly sugary coffee, stopping to get a red velvet cupcake from one of the bakeries in town, then Spencer even stopped to pick up a bouquet of yellow roses. the night before, he was racking over all the ideas in his mind for what he'd write on the little card attached to the flowers, he still had time to write something up.
When he made it to the office, he was letting out a sigh of relief when he realized Y/N wasn't at her desk just yet. He hoped she wasn't going to try and pull off a sick day, mainly because his whole goal was to make this a Valentine's Day that she'd never forget.
After the flowers, the coffee cup that was elegantly decorated for the holiday, and the cupcake box that was wrapped in a beautiful satin red bow were placed in an aesthetically pleasing set up, he was sitting at his desk while doing his best to quickly write down the note that he hoped wouldn't be overly sappy.
Boy, Penelope was gonna be so proud of him for this set up, she'd definitely approve.
Even if Y/N wasn't there yet, the rest of the team was. Emily watched in amusement, a smile on her face as she leaned back against her chair. "You know that you are really gonna brighten up her whole year, right?" She asked, making the youngest on the team peek up from his writing.
He felt a rush of pride run through him, his cheeks and ears starting to get hot from his blushing over the thought of seeing that beautiful smile spread across his coworker's face again. "You think so? I really hope she does. I like her a lot.. I just want her to see that she still deserves to feel appreciated." He rambled on while keeping his gaze on the card.
"Pretty boy, I'm almost jealous." Derek commented, ruffling Spencer's hair while looking over the spread with a chuckle. "You gotta give me tips, kid." He was teasing, though he felt like a proud big brother watching his younger sibling make his own moves.
By the grace of god, Spencer had placed the card on the flowers as soon as Y/N was making her appearance into the bullpen. Like Spencer suspected, she looked like she just didn't wanna be there.
However, her whole demeanor changed as she approached the desk, her eyebrows raising in curiosity. "What's all this?" She asked, looking to the coworkers who were close by. "No idea, mama. I seen all of that sitting on your desk when I got in this morning." Derek commented, a smile on his face as he was leaning against the edge of the desk. "There should be a card." Emily also commented, the two making a point to hang around the desk just a little longer.
Which Y/N had already had a small smile on her face from the surprise, as soon as she picked up that card though, her smile was growing wider, the appreciative tears already starting to burn her eyes.
'We both know I don't know how to do stuff like this. So I am gonna leave you with a quote that means a lot to me, almost as much as the amount that you mean to me,
"Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind. And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind." - William Shakespeare.
I hope you know that no matter what you may be going through, I'll always be here for you.
Just so you know, I love you. -Spencer.'
The note really tied the whole ensemble together, Spencer turning in his chair as she began to read the note allowed, a smile on his face. He felt so proud of himself for pulling this off, especially after feeling like he was going to royally mess it up at some points while planning.
"Thank you." Y/N smiled, her gaze now on her best friend in the office while she was heading over to wrap her arms around Spencer with a tight hug, making Spencer hold her just as tight.
"Although.. I do have one thing to say." She spoke while pulling from the hug. The words made Spencer's heart fall into his stomach.
What if she doesn't feel the same way? What if this is weird? Oh god, what if-
His thoughts were coming to a screeching halt when he felt a pair of soft lips against his own.
Oh.
"Just so you know, I love you so much more."
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sailorholly · 5 months
Text
Strictly Business Pt. 8
The Ending
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Summary: Spencer wants to gain sexual experience before asking out his dream date. You just want a way to release stress. What could go wrong?
Warnings: Smuttish. Friends with benefits. Mentions of pregnancy.
A/N: Sorry this took forever, life has been kicking my booty lately.
Strictly Business Masterlist
Spencer took Chloe out twice a week for three weeks. He tried to force a connection, but it didn’t feel the way he thought it should, the way it felt with you. He knew he should end things with her, but he kept waiting for the sparks to fly.
Tonight, Chloe told him she would meet him at his apartment. She had a surprise for him, so she was going to take him to the secret destination. When they arrive at the hotel, a suite is waiting for them. She must have been here earlier, setting it up.
Rose petals were scattered on the bed. A bottle of wine was chilling on the table. It was the most romantic set up he had ever seen. This is it, he thought. This is the night when it all comes together. There’s no way he could share a night like this with her and not fall for her.
Room service arrived moments later, delivering gourmet meals Chloe arranged for. Spencer sits across from her, pouring wine into her glass. “I thought it was time we take the next step in our relationship.” She tells him. He swallows thickly, trying not to choke. Spencer silently convinces his self that this would be good for them. It was finally time to put his new skills to the test.
He hopes this is the push he needs to feel something for her. When they finish eating, Chloe instructs him to wait on the bed for her. When she returns, she’s wearing the same floral, lilac lingerie set he bought for you. It brought back memories from the night he gave it to you, using the vibrator on you, how you looked when you came.
She climbs on top of him, peppering kisses across his face and down his neck. She runs her hand over his cock, straining against his pants. “I knew you would like this set.” She says confidently, thinking his erection was because of her. He flips her over, slowly kissing her. He should feel something by now. He always got aroused by your kisses.
But he felt nothing as he pressed his lips to hers. He looks at her body, the lingerie looked great on her, but she didn’t look like you. When he first saw it in the window of the store, he imagined you wearing it just for him. Thoughts of having sex with you flood his mind. You fit together perfectly. Maybe he could get through this with Chloe without thinking of you.
You squirm in your spot next to Penelope. She invited you, JJ, and Emily over for a girls’ night. You couldn’t focus on the silly games they wanted to play or the movie JJ put on. You decided not to drink tonight either. You weren’t in a good head space.
All you could think about was Spencer on his date with Chloe. He told you that she was surprising him tonight, and he sounded excited. You wanted to be happy for him, but it made your stomach upset when you thought about them together. He told you they hadn’t had sex yet, and for that you were thankful.
Tonight would be different, you had no doubt that Chloe planned to seduce him. They had been dating for almost a month. You were shocked they hadn’t slept together yet. “Okay, what’s wrong?” Emily asks, interrupting our thoughts. “You’ve been off all night.” JJ observes.
Tears spill down your face as you tell them everything. The practice sex, the lingerie, the vibrator, Rossi and the jet. They all gather around you, pulling you into a giant group hug. “You should tell him how you feel.” Penelope rubs your back.
“I can’t. He’s dating Chloe. I couldn’t do that to him. He’s finally happy.” They try to convince you the rest of the night. When you go into work the next morning, you don’t have time to ask Spencer about his date. Hotch rushes you all to the jet, the case was urgent. You walk passed him on the plane, avoiding your usual seat beside him. Instead you sit beside Rossi, who looks curiously between you two.
The day passes quickly. Tips from the police hotline flood in and you’re sent with JJ to check on them. When you make it back to your hotel room, you’re grateful you got a room to yourself so you can be alone with your thoughts. Your phone lights up with the sixth text from Spencer today.
You hadn’t responded to any of them. You sigh loudly. You were being a bad friend. He didn’t share details of his personal life with anyone but you. He probably just wants to fill you in on last night. You were the one who made him confident enough to have sex with her. It was all your fault you were in this situation.
That’s what you keep telling yourself as you made the short trip down the hallway to Spencer’s room. “Hey! I thought you were mad at me or something.” Spencer says, letting you into his room. You smile weakly, failing to hide your true feelings.
“Wait, you are mad at me?” He asks frowning, as he closes the door. “I’m not mad at you, Spencer. I’m mad at myself for feeling the way I do when I have no right to.” He studies your face, concerned. “What are you talking about?” You walk out of the doorway, to sit on his bed. He sits beside you, taking your hand in his to comfort you.
“Spencer, we never should have slept together. I am ruined for life. No one is going to make me feel the way you do. It’s not supposed to feel like that every time with your best friend.” Spencer stands, facing you. “You think I don’t know that, that it’s magic between us? You think I don’t feel guilty because it’s supposed to be like that with Chloe, but I can’t even go through with it because all I can think about is you?”
“You couldn’t sleep with her?” You ask, rising to meet Spencer. “No, I couldn’t do it. I just kept thinking of you the whole time. How it was so comfortable with you, so natural. I’m in love with you. I think I have been for a while. I just didn’t realize it.” He confesses, reaching down to caress your cheek. “I’m in love with you too, Spence. I’m sorry it took so long to tell you.” He embraces you, soft lips crashing against yours.
Four Months Later
“Spill the beans. You two have been acting all weird and secretive. What’s going on?” Penelope asks after trapping you and Spencer when you got to work. You looked at Spencer and he nods, smiling. You open your coat, and lift your oversized sweater, revealing a small baby bump. You had been wearing clothes that weren’t form fitting since you found out.
Penelope squeals so loudly, it captures the rest of the team’s attention as they come in. They walk over as Penelope excitedly shares your news, gesturing to your stomach. “Congratulations again.” Hotch says. “My man, didn’t know you had it in you.” Derek pats Spencer proudly on the back. The girls swarm you as JJ starts making a list of everything you’ll need. Rossi grins, “I knew it when you couldn’t eat my pasta two weeks ago!”
Tags (cont. in comments)
@cindylynn @multifandom-worlds @mochie85 @modern-mermaid @analethicia @marimorena06 @ghostheartbeat @clownprincess09 @thebiggestscamislife @whistle1whistle @lockwoods-coat-and-reids-vests @twsssmlmaa @cynbx @padlockedhearts @wheredafandomat @salempoe @emarich7 @itzdarling @anonymously-ominous @vivian-555 @cashtons-wife @regulus-black-223048 @nomajdetective @dazedgye @jesuisbenny @simpingforharryandcevans @misacc08 @wowzabowza69 @spencvrr @the-uncoordinated-house-cat @inthehoneymoonwithconnorrk800 @academiareid @nikkisheep @dephylirium @panhoeofmanyfandoms @its-not-too-late-for-coffee @wildernessflora @mypurplecrocs @idkbubs @ajstarkpetrova
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poetrysmackdown · 9 months
Note
hi hiii i wanted to say that your account is so refreshing to see, esp with the passion you have for the arts. as someone who's been meaning to read (and write) more poetry, do you have any recommendations? some classics that everyone and their mothers know? perhaps some underrated pieces that changed you? or even just authors you like, I'm very open to suggestions :]]
Hi! Thank you so much for this kind ask :) So exciting that you’re looking to delve deeper into reading and writing! I had to take a little time to answer this because my thoughts were all over the place lol.
For a review of notable/classic poems/poets, I honestly just recommend looking at lists online or, hell, just binging Wikipedia pages for different countries’ poetry if that’s something you’re into, just to get a sense of the chronology. I read one of those little Oxford Very Short Introductions on American Poetry and thought it was pretty good, but online is quicker if you’re just searching for poets or movements to hone in on. Poetry Foundation also has lots of resources, in addition to all the poems in their database. I guess my one big classic recommendation would have to be Emily Dickinson (<3), but really the best move is just to find a poet you already enjoy and then look around to see who their peers were/are, who they were inspired by, who they’ve maybe translated here and there, etc. and follow it down the line as far as you can.
For some personal recs, here are some collections I’ve really enjoyed over the past two years or so. Bolded favorites, and linking where select poems from the book have been published online. But also, if you want a preview of a couple poems from another of the books to see if they interest you, DM me and I can send them over! You can also feel free to pilfer through my poetry tag for more stuff lol
Autobiography of Death by Kim Hyesoon trans. Don Mee Choi
Conflict Resolution for Holy Beings by Joy Harjo
DMZ Colony by Don Mee Choi
Hardly War by Don Mee Choi
Whereas by Layli Long Soldier
Geography III by Elizabeth Bishop
Dictee by Theresa Hak Kyung Cha
Don’t Let Me Be Lonely: An American Lyric by Claudia Rankine
Mouth: Eats Color—Sagawa Chika Translations, Anti-Translations, & Originals by Sawako Nakayasu
The Selected Poems of Osip Mandelstam trans. W.S. Merwin and Clarence Brown
The Branch Will Not Break by James Wright
This Journey by James Wright
God’s Silence by Franz Wright
Duino Elegies by Rainer Maria Rilke (the translation I read was by Alfred Corn—I thought it was great, but idk if there are better ones out there!)
DMZ Colony, Hardly War, Dictee, Don’t Let Me Be Lonely, and partially Whereas are all book-length poems with some prose poetry and varying levels of weirdness/denseness/multilingualism—if you were to pick one to start with, I’d say do Don’t Let Me Be Lonely or Whereas. Mouth: Eats Color is some experimental translations of Japanese modernist poet Chika Sagawa, with other translations and some of Nakayasu’s original stuff mixed in—it's definitely a bit disorienting but ultimately I remember having such fun with it, as much fun as Nakayasu probably had making it. It’s a book that emphasizes co-creation and a spirit of play, and completely changed my attitude towards translation.
If you’re less interested in that kind of formal fuckery stuff though (I get it), can’t go wrong with the other books! Conflict Resolution for Holy Beings is the one I read most recently, and it’s great—Harjo also featured in Round 1! Franz Wright also featured, and God's Silence is the collection which "Night Walk" comes from. James Wright (father of Franz) is one of my favorite poets of all time, though his poetry isn’t perfect. Even so, I’m honestly surprised he’s not doing numbers on Tumblr—Mary Oliver was a big fan of his, even wrote her "Three Poems for James Wright" after his death.
I mentioned in another post that one of my favorite poets is Paul Celan, so I’ll also recommend him here. I read Memory Rose into Threshold Speech which is a translated collection of his earlier poems, but it’s quite long if you’re just getting to know him as a poet—fortunately, both Poetry Foundation and Poets.org have a ton of his poems in their collections. There’s also an article by Ilya Kaminsky about him titled “Of Strangeness That Wakes Us” (!!!!!) that’s a great place to start, and is honestly kind of my whole mission statement when I’m reading and writing poetry. Looking at the books I’ve recommended above, a lot of them share feelings of separateness or alienation—from others, from oneself, from one’s country, from language—that breed strange, private modes of expression. That tends to be what I’m drawn to personally, and that’s some of what Kaminsky talks about.
Sorry of the length of this—I hope it's useful as a jumping-off point! And if you or anyone ends up exploring any of these poets, let me know what you think! If folks wanna reply with recommendations themselves too that'd be great :)
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kingdom-by-the-sea · 1 year
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The Not Valentine’s Date
Summary- Mutual pining, an office bet, and baby sitting make for an interesting Valentine’s Day between Spencer and Hotch’s daughter.
Warnings- fluffy fluff
Pairing- Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Hotch’s daughter
Word Count- 2.7k
A/N- This is something I randomly wrote last year after Valentine’s Day but didn’t post cause I felt like I had missed my window. Who knows maybe I’ll write something later this week that I’ll post in a year.
—————-
“Eww,” Emily complained, scrunching up her face in disgust, “Please tell me that none of those lines actually work on real life girls. I don’t understand why guys had to start going around saying stuff like that and ruin Valentine’s day for the rest of us.”
”Woah,” Prentiss stopped Reid mid-explaining, “You are not actually referring to that,” she gestured vaguely in Morgan’s direction, “as poetry.”
Spencer scrunched his face in consideration, “Not in the traditional sense, I suppose. However, in my opinion, some of the best lines of poetry about love have nothing to do with Valentine’s day so using it as the standard might not properly reflect what you’re looking for.”
“Oh really,” Morgan questioned, “And what exactly would you use to woo the ladies on the fourteenth?”
Reid considered the question seriously his fingers tapping to some indiscernible beat as he thought, “‘We loved with a love that was more than love.’”
“What?” Morgan’s reaction was quick and it seemed that everyone else in the group mirrored his sentiment, “Hate to break it to you, pretty boy, but no girl you mention that to is going to have a clue-”
“You quote a man who married his thirteen year-old cousin on love?” Y/N asked suddenly, drawing everyone’s attention.
“They really are a match made in heaven…” Prentiss muttered only loud enough for Morgan to hear, who responded with a chuckle.
Reid’s face darkened several shades of red, “I just mean-”
“It’s fine,” Y/N let out a small laugh, “I’m just teasing. Annabel Lee’s probably my favorite poem. Just sucks that most of the romanticism poets were… just really weird.”
Spencer regained his composure and released an unexpected laugh, “Yeah.”
“Anyone want more coffee, I’m going to get another cup,” Y/N stood and left for the kitchenette after finding there weren’t any takers.
“So close and yet… so far,” Prentiss said once Y/N was out of earshot.
“Seriously, man,” Morgan started, “Just ask her to go to dinner or something already.”
Reid rolled his eyes, “Is this about your bet pool thing again?”
“Not anymore,” Morgan said, “I’ve been out since last month. Somehow I thought New Years would do the trick.”
Prentiss laughed, “You’re doing way better than me. I really thought the hormones would outweigh this nerdy stupidity,” she gestured at Reid’s face, “and said Halloween.”
“Halloween?!” Reid squeaked out before lowering his voice significantly, “There is no way you thought Y/N and I would get together by Halloween of last year.”
The two agents dutifully ignored him and Morgan continued, “Who’s even left at this point? I know Rossi chose St. Patrick’s day for whatever reason.”
“And Hotch said Valentine’s,” Prentiss finished and any air of concern left Reid’s face.
“Well now I know you’re making this up,” he turned back to his work, “There is no way Hotch would bet on his daughter’s love life.”
Prentiss tsked, “Your future father-in-law is going to be very disappointed if you miss this benchmark.”
“Seriously though,” Morgan started again, “Just ask her to hang out. Don’t even call it a date.”
“We hang out all the time though…” Spencer whispered, fiddling with his tie.
“Then it shouldn’t be that big of a deal,” Morgan patted him on the shoulder, “Go get her, lover boy.”
Reluctantly, Reid rose from his seat and made his way to the kitchenette. Y/N was busy filling up her mug with the right amount of sugar- that is as much as can fit in the cup- but smiled when she noticed him.
“Did you change your mind? I can grab another mug.”
“What? Oh- no, I’m good,” he glanced over at her searching for the right words, “I was just wondering if you maybe wanted to hang out on Monday…?”
Y/N’s face lit up at the thought before she scrunched up her nose, “I’d love to but I can’t. I’m actually watching Jack so my dad can go out but maybe this weekend?”
She returned to stirring her coffee not noticing the third person entering the vicinity.
“Or Reid could come over and help you with Jack?” Hotch said, forcing them both to turn suddenly in his direction.
“Oh no,” Y/N began, “You don’t have to do that. I wouldn’t want you to waste your Valentine’s Day.”
“No, no. That sounds great,” Spencer smiled at her and her heart seemed to warm as she mirrored his reaction, “Send me the times over the weekend.”
With that Reid walked back to his desk in semi-victory.
“Did Reid just ask you to hangout with him on Valentine’s Day?” Hotch asked with a mock accusatory glance.
“Yeah,” Y/N said absentmindedly, “I mean no- I mean he did but it's not like that. We are just two single adults who enjoy each other’s company and not having to feel lonely on a day devoted to love.”
“Y/N, what exactly do you call it when two single adults meet up on Valentine’s Day to ‘enjoy each other’s company?’” he could barely manage to suppress the smile growing on his face at the teasing.
Her face turned pink, “I’m not sure- but apparently you call it babysitting.”
~~~
As the evening waned on, Y/N was more and more glad for Spencer’s company. Outside of simply enjoying his presence, it helped to have a second person there to reign in some of Jack’s more energetic behavior. However, her appreciation wasn’t enough to keep her from noticing how her heartstrings tugged seeing the way Jack and Spencer both lit each other up with excitement. Spencer was beyond engaging and Y/N finally understood why Henry always seemed to immediately latch onto Spencer at BAU gatherings. It was intoxicating to watch them together and Y/N easily could have lost herself in the moment if it weren’t for the screaming six-year-old running around the house constantly threatening to knock things over. Luckily for Reid, Y/N, and their respective sanities, this level of energy wasn’t sustainable and an eventual crash was inevitable.
He nodded lazily in response, “Can we watch Encanto?” for a brief moment the sparks returned behind his eyes as he mentioned what was quickly becoming his new favorite movie.
“Sure,” Y/N said with a small laugh. This would have to be close to the twentieth time she had seen the movie but for Jack’s sake, it was all worth it.
Jack headed for the stairs and Spencer was quick to follow after him.
“I’ll help him get ready for bed,” he explained, noticing what was apparently a rather obvious expression of confusion and the slight tilt of her head, “You could set up the movie?”
Having your heart flutter this much had to be medically concerning, but there was nothing Y/N could do to stop it as she watched her best friend take her brother’s small hand.
“Okay,” she whispered and was met with a smile that sent her straight back into heart-fluttering territory. No matter how long she knew Spencer, he never stopped surprising her. Considering the effort and detail he put into every other aspect of his life, it shouldn’t have been a surprise that he would be so attentive with her brother. And yet he still managed to strengthen his hold on her heart with every little action that came as some unexpected surprise to her. In truth, she suspected it was a precautionary measure, if she truly let herself recognize how kind and wonderful Spencer was, she’d be done for in an instant.
All the precautions in the world couldn’t have stopped the back of her mind from spinning stories about him though. Spencer was too gentle and pure to keep the less hardened parts of her soul from imagining what it all could be like if she could indulge if she could step over the line she had drawn in the sand for herself.
Upstairs, it seemed Jack had stumbled upon a small reservoir of energy, taking the time to show Spencer his favorite toys and stuffed animals while Spencer attempted to offer him various pajama set options. Eventually, Jack settled on the set covered with small dogs.
Spencer didn’t mind the push and pull Jack, or other children gave him. There was something so strangely fascinating to him about a mind so free from insecurity and a child’s willingness to simply say what was on their mind. Despite his extensive memory, he couldn’t remember a time he truly felt like that and hoped it was merely a result of the fog around his earliest memories. Every decision he made was coated in consideration and accounted for every possible result. He couldn’t help but wish that his hypervigilance would let up from time to time and leave him free to explore the thoughts, and emotions, that remained.
“You work with my sister,” Jack offered up less as a question and more as a statement.
“Yes, I do,” Spencer responded to the not question.
The boy’s head bobbed in as much seriousness as a six-year-old could muster, “Can you still be friends with someone if you work with them?”
Spencer watched as he stepped away from him and began absentmindedly examining the toys around his room.
“Of course,” Spencer answered, not sure where this line of question was headed, “Your sister and I are very good friends then.”
Jack’s attention swiftly returned to Spencer, “So you like her then?”
“I do like her. She’s smart and cool,” Spencer narrowed his eyes slightly on the boy, “Just like you.”
Jack came closer to him and in what he seemed to think was a hushed voice said, “Did you know that sometimes when people really like they get married…?”
“And then….” he scrunched up his face and whispered, “They make a baby.”
Spencer’s mouth fell open and his eyes widened in what Jack considered to be genuine surprise.
“I know, right?” Jack stepped away and began picking up a blanket and stuffed animal to take downstairs with him, without looking up he added, “Do you think you and Y/N will get married?”
Spencer’s mind went completely blank. None of the dozens of courses he had taken over the years would provide him with any sort of answer that would satisfy Jack. Part of him wanted to say yes and not give any of it another thought but reason quickly squashed that idea. And yet…
And yet he couldn’t bring himself to say no either. It was far too permanent and left no room for the small bead of hope he hid away in the back of his mind.
“Maybe…” he answered finally, “I don’t really know though…”
Jack pulled the blanket and toy behind him and giggled, “I hope you do!”
Spencer’s stomach did a somersault and he scooped the small boy and his blanket up into his arms before he could notice the strange smile emerging on his face. I do too.
~~~
“I swear that kid is pure energy,” Y/N said, shutting the door behind them and stepping out into the cool night with Spencer.
Y/N pointed a somewhat accusatory finger at him, “And don’t say something like ‘technically we are all energy since we’re made of mass.’’
He rolled his eyes at her with a smile, “I was going to say that while he may have been more energetic than I expected- I had fun hanging out with you guys.”
She couldn’t help the smile that immediately bubbled up to the surface of her lips, “I had fun too. I’m glad I didn’t completely waste your Valentine’s day.”
“Never,” he whispered just loud enough for her to hear.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you on Monday,” Y/N said when they reached the end of the driveway where Spencer’s car was parked.
His eyes narrowed slightly on her, “What are you doing? How are you getting back to your apartment?”
“Oh I have an uber coming in a little bit. I”m just going to wait here until they get here.”
“You want me to leave you here on the side of the road and drive away?” he questioned.
“No,” Y/N corrected, “I want you to leave me at the end of my dad’s driveway.”
“I’m not leaving you here,” Spencer said definitively, “I’ll drive you or we could go back to my apartment and watch awful romcoms and start working on the mound of candy Rossi and Garcia got us.”
She blinked at him, “Really?”
“Yeah,” his movement suddenly became awkward and choppy, “I mean you obviously don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“No, no,” Y/N smiled, “I’m just surprised. You spent the past five hours with me and my hyperactive brother and you want to hang out more?”
“I always want to spend time with you,” he said shyly.
“Sometimes I just forget that you’re you, Spence,” Y/N shook her head slightly and took a step closer to him.
“I hope that’s not a bad thing,” his eyes were slightly wider than usual.
“No, not at all. It’s the best thing actually,” Y/N smiled up at him, “And just so you know, I’d gladly spend every moment of every day with you.”
He looked down at her, not able to suppress the smile growing on his face.
“You know,” Spencer said, clearing his throat slightly, “Jack said something to me earlier and I didn’t know how to respond to him.”
“Oh gosh…” her voice faded into a slight chuckle.
“He was asking me all these questions about you. Like if we were friends and if I thought you were nice,” Spencer watched as Y/N glanced up at him, “I said yes to both of those… but then- then he asked if we were going to get married.”
Y/N’s lips let out a silent “oh.”
She blinked and glanced down at the ground momentarily, “What did you tell him?”
He scratched absently at the side of his head, “Well I wasn’t sure what to say so I told him maybe?”
Y/N’s face broke into a smile and near laugh, “You told him ‘maybe?’”
“I’m sorry I just didn’t know what to say. You’re not mad, are you?”
“No, no,” she let out the rest of the laugh, “I just think we should go on a date before you start promising these kinds of things to my brother.”
Spencer blinked and swallowed before looking down at the ground, “Would you have said yes if I asked you out?”
“Yeah,” a soft smile settled on her lips, “I mean of course. Don’t tell Jack but you’re kind of my favorite person in the world.”
“Really?” his eyes settled on hers.
“What? Did you think I’d say no?” Y/N asked with genuine concern.
“I don’t know I just thought that it would make things difficult since we work together and-”
“Spence, hey, hey, stop it!” she said with a slight laugh.
A beat passed where she just looked at him.
“What are you doing?” he whispered.
Y/N smiled, “I just want to remember the moment right before I kiss you.”
Spencer’s eyes widened slightly.
“Is that okay?”
He nodded not sure if she was referring to the moment or the kiss but it didn’t matter either way. She smiled up at him again, looking into his eyes and her hands moved up till they met behind his neck. After inhaling slightly, Y/N perched on her toes and gently pulled Spencer’s face down until their lips met each other.
951 notes · View notes
shubblelive · 7 months
Text
— HYPOTHETICAL CAT
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summary : your first time staying with wilbur since the beginning of your long-distance relationship, and you're already dreading leaving him. luckily for you, you may not have to.
genre : fluff
warnings : slightly dialogue heavy?? not proofread unlike usual but i think we're good
pairing : cc!wilbur soot x cc!fem!reader
pronouns : none (you/yours) BUT wilbur referrs to reader as a girl
featuring : cc! wilbur soot
requested : Could you do a wilbur fic where him and the reader have a long distance relationship? And one day when she comes and visits him, he admits he cant go such long periods of time without seeing her, so he proposes that she moves in with him, the rest is up to you, thank you! xx
word count : 873
note : okay i wrote this all in one day which i never do but it was a struggle. but, i power through for you guys. i hope you enjoy this <33333
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No one told you when you started out that your favourite thing about content creation would be the webcam quality. Of course, it was definitely something you could live without, but on nights when it was just you and Wilbur, a video call on your desktop as your sun rose and his set, the fact that you could see him in picture perfect vision was occasionally the only thing holding you together. 
But then suddenly, he was right in front of you.
You and Wilbur had been together for nearly three years, meeting at a creator event ages ago. You’d seen him at a panel and he’d waited in line to meet you just to give you his phone number, asking you to call him, and two weeks later he was calling you darling. 
You’d known at that first meeting that you lived awfully far from each other, but that hadn’t been thought of as a particularly big issue until the two of you started dating, and then it was comparable to torture. You’d have semi-regular meetings where he’d fly to your place and stay with you for a couple of days. This time, though, this was different.
“You have been holding out on me,” your voice was heavy with sleep, your head in Wilbur’s lap as the two of you watched something, some nature documentary that was playing so softly it was almost designed to put you to sleep. “Your couch is so much more comfortable than mine is.”
Wilbur looked down at you fondly. “My bad,” he laughed steadily, careful not to be too loud. “I guess I thought that if you got to experience the wonders of my sofa you’d only wanna come here, I wouldn’t get to come see you as much.”
“I knew you and Mr Gardener had some weird thing going on,” you said, accusatory with a smile draped across your face.
“He makes you bread!” Wilbur defended. “How are you not obsessed with him?”
You cracked one of your eyes open sleepily, hand coming up to reach for his. He took it eagerly, drinking in your figure as you lay on his couch. “I’m pretty sure he’s not the one doing it.”
Wilbur threw his head back to rest against the couch, letting out a puff of air. “Okay, maybe Emily is the one doing the actual baking, but you can’t tell me that Mr Gardener doesn’t add to the experience.”
“I’m sure he does.” You hummed.
“You can not seriously tell me that baking a loaf of bread is not made infinitely better by the presence of a cat.”
You paused. “Okay, okay. It would be.”
Wilbur let out a pleased noise, moving down to run his hands up and down the exposed skin by your collarbone. “We should get a cat,”
His voice was barely loud enough for you to hear it, your eyes closed and his voice heavy with exhaustion. The two of you had been out all day on the first day of your visit, finally taking a moment to rest. 
“Should we?” You mused. “Who gets custody?”
Wilbur made a choking sound like the answer was obvious. “Well- I would, right?”
You forced yourself up, yawning as you brought your knees to your chest. “Why am I jealous of our hypothetical cat right now?”
Wilbur chuckled and reached for you, sitting forward on his knees, gently tugging at your calves until he was resting on your chest. “You don’t have to be,” he pointed out. “I’ve got a very big bed. And an entire section of wardrobe that I’m not using, and-”
“Wilbur,” you chided. “You know it’s not as easy as me simply never going home. Believe me, if I could spend the rest of my life curled into this couch, I would but-”
Wilbur sighed dramatically, pulling himself off you and standing up. “There you go, dream crusher,” he let out an exaggerated groan, taking you by the hand and pulling you up. His cheek was pressed against the side of your face, hands interlocked. “Crushing my dreams all crush-ier and dreamy.”
You let out a giggle as he poked your side. “You think I’m dreamy?”
“So dreamy,” he nodded. “Dream girl material right here, loves me, loves our future cat-”
“Loves your sofa,” you added dreamily. 
“And before I let you two get a room, please just consider moving in with me?” He begged gently. “Come on, wouldn’t it be so nice? Just you and me, I’d even let you name the cat. Please?”
“I’m not doing it for you.” You conceded. “I’m doing it for Rhubarb and all of the future kisses I am going to get from him on my new couch.”
He kissed you on the forehead. “Okay, I’ll leave you guys alone, I see where I’m not wanted.” He pressed another one on the side of your mouth.
“No,” you groaned, trying to drag him back on the couch. “I don’t have our cat yet, I need someone to shower me with affection.”
He huffed as he sat back on the couch, letting you collapse on top of him, revelling in the comfortable weight of you pressed against him. “Fine, fine. If I must.”
231 notes · View notes
hiramaris · 8 months
Text
Kiss It Off Me
CHAPTER 3
Chapter Summary:
'Next time,' she promises herself. 'I'll take a photo of her.'
Pairings: Haley x Fem!farmer
Disclaimer:  I do not own Stardew Valley or any of the related characters. Stardew Valley is created by and owned by ConcernedApe. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights of the original Stardew Valley story belong to ConcernedApe.
Warning: None so far? Just Haley being her usual self
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Gif from weheartit.com
Spring 6
"Em."
No response.
She tried again, this time a little louder.
"Emily."
Still nothing.
Her eyes twitched in mild annoyance, frustration simmering within her as she tried to get her sister's attention. Haley didn't have the patience to deal with this anymore.
"Emily!" she practically shouted, her voice echoing in the small room.
"What?" Thank Yoba she finally looked up from her sewing machine. Haley's already seconds away from leaving her room and just stew about this stupid problem for the rest of the week.
She probably could but nooo, the guilt has been eating her for days already!
Haley's not one to apologize, she didn't even know how. Emily already told her the mechanics and only Yoba knows how long she's been practicing her lines in front of her mirror. The last time she was this distressed was when her parents suddenly thought it was a good idea to move here without even asking if she and Emily were okay with it.
She'd done the hard part and she didn't even know if her apology will be as heartfelt as Emily would expect, but there was a problem.
One she can't do alone without looking pathetic. 
Emily doesn't even have any idea how much pride Haley had to swallow just to barge and sit here in her hippie room and on her just as hippie bed surrounded by her Yoba awful wallpaper, and ask for help for the second time this week. 
"It's the farmer," she finally responded quietly. She had been stalling for time, hoping that Emily would somehow magically understand what was going on.
Oh, god why is this so difficult?
"The farmer?" Emily repeated, her eyes narrowing with confusion. Haley winced at the thought of having to say the words aloud.
"She's avoiding me."
"Avoi–" Emily stopped herself as she gave Haley an incredulous look. "Now you're just being ridiculous, sis. Have you not been wearing the rose quartz ring I gave you?"
"No?" Haley replies, confused.
What's a stupid stone got to do with her problem?
"It's been days and I haven't caught even a glimpse of her hair," Haley flail her hands wildly in frustration. "This town is no city. How the hell could I have missed her? How am I supposed to apologize to someone who keeps hiding?"
"Slow down, Hay." Emily finally abandoned her little project and proceeded to sit beside her. "I haven't seen Y/n/n for over two days either. Maybe she's just busy with the farm?"
"Y/n/n?" Haley's immaculate brow shot up in surprise. Emily's already on a nickname basis with the farmer? And what did she just say? "Two days ago?" She questioned.
The last time Haley saw you was that embarrassing incident, and that was three days ago.
Okay, if Haley wasn't sure before, she's definitely sure now. The farmer is indeed avoiding her.
Why else Emily was able to see you and Haley couldn't?
"Yeah, she visited the saloon." Emily remained oblivious to her sister's inner turmoil. "She's super cool and has already made friends with Leah. They even came together. Even Shane and Pam seemed to warm up to her immediately."
"Leah?" Haley repeated, eyebrows raising even further than possible.
She's not all that surprised with Pam and Shane. Despite their slightly hostile personality, they are pretty much the easiest to impress if Haley would dare to try. Just give those two a couple of beers and they are good to go.
But really? Leah? Haley barely knows the woman. "The weirdo that carves wood outside of town?"
Emily poked her with a bony finger. "She's an artist," she corrected, a frown creasing her features. "Seriously, sis. You need to stop calling people names. Remember that's the reason you're in this situation."
"Okay, mom." She grumbled. No need to rub it in. 
"I'm pretty sure you're not even trying to find her," Emily accused with a glare.
"Yes, I am!" Haley's defense was immediate. Of course, she's been looking for you. How else could she have assumed that you were avoiding her?
"Did you go to her farm?"
"No."
"Did you look for her all over town?"
"No. Are you nuts? That's a long walk from here."
Emily hummed in acknowledgment. "Then how can you say she's avoiding you when you're not even leaving the house?"
"I did!" Haley protested. Did she, though? She deflated for a moment. "Once, I guess, the other day. I waited for her in the river. She always feed the squirrels, but she never came."
"I'm sure she's just busy, sis. Don't be sad."
"I'm not—" Haley was suddenly engulfed in Emily's arms.
"I haven't seen you this stressed since forever. My baby sis is finally growing up and learning how to say sorry," Emily sniffled, wiping a fake tear. Haley could only grumble in annoyance.
She's ruining my hair!
Haley rolled her eyes at her sister's dramatics but couldn't help but feel comforted by the embrace. "I'm not a baby," she muttered but didn't push her sister away.
"I know. Still..."
Speaking of apologies though.
It seemed like Haley didn't even need to apologize after all.
The farmer— Y/n is apparently okay and has a cool friend already. She didn't hurt any feelings, hooray! 
The world can now finally continue without Haley saying sorry.
She can also finally throw this guilt away and start taking photos seriously. She's already behind in finishing her portfolio. At this rate she won't be able to submit her photos to some galleries she's been eyeing since last fall.  
Maybe tomorrow she'd break out the camera. 
Yes, that would be ideal.
****
Spring 7
Haley found herself standing by the Cindersap River once again. Of course, this had absolutely got nothing to do with the sole purpose of seeing a certain farmer.
Not at all.
The lighting outside is just too perfect to let it slip away. 
In fact, she’s so focused on getting a good angle for the squirrel without frightening it away that she didn't notice that the person she's been looking for finally went out from her territory and went straight to what's-her-name's cottage with a bowl of green, leafy vegetables Haley would probably eat for her Spring diet and not out of want. 
Yes, she didn't notice all that, at all. 
Note the sarcasm though. Sometimes she's just good with this language that people mistake it as her mother tongue. 
If only she could get a better shot for this little guy, it will be a great addition to her portfolio. As stagnant as Pelican is, she could never deny that the town has the best spots in featuring how nature and humans interact together in harmony. Something that urban life lacks. She even had a photo of Marnie feeding her animals, and it's probably one of the closest pictures that fit her theme. There's also another one— that one picture she got a few days ago with the farmer. 
It's a good picture. She thought to herself. The farmer could be a good model for her theme. If there's one person closest to nature that would be you. You're a farmer after all.
Yeah, right. As if. 
If anyone would suggest that to her, she'd probably laugh at their faces.
Impossible.
Focus, Haley. She mentally scolded herself. 
Nah, this angle just won't do. It's too flat.
She looked at the lens again and took a few steps to the left. And only then she realized her mistake when she failed to notice a slippery patch on the ground. Before she knew it, she had lost her footing and was tumbling toward the water. Her heart raced with fear as she desperately tried to regain her balance.
"Oh, my god!"
She's gonna fall.
Her camera's going to get wet!
Her photos from the previous days are there, and she hasn’t developed all of them yet in her dark room.
She braced herself for the impact.
To get wet.
To probably throw her camera and purse on the side. Never mind it might break, but she can still save her photos.  
Just as she thought she was about to fall into the river, a strong, calloused hand shot out and grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into a solid chest. She looked up to see none other than the farmer, who had just saved her from potentially drowning and ruining her photos,
"That was a close one," you breathed.
Haley's cheeks burn, quickly separating from you as if she were burned. you're too close. Too close that Haley caught a whiff of your earthy smell, what seems to be freshly cut grass, and a small hint of mint that she knows she supposedly hates. "I— I..." 
"You okay?"
"I am!" She answered quickly. Too quickly. Haley laughed nervously. "Thank you, um..."
Just spit out her name already.
"It's Y/n, remember?" Oh, joy. Now she assumes Haley doesn't remember her name. 
Haley looked up once again. You don't seem offended even for the slightest bit. If anything, you looked amused. 
"Of course, I remember. I was just... I haven't seen you since whatever and," Haley tried to cross her arms in defense but the camera dangling around her neck prevented her to do so. "I was still shocked, okay?"
"Wait, so you're looking for me?"
"No!" came her reply, vehement and just plain defensive.
"Well, if you're not wondering," you threw her a sideway glance, smirking as you continued, "I was actually busy tidying things up on the farm. I also brought the things I left in the city."
"Okay." She shrugged in feigned indifference. "As I said, I wasn't looking for you or anything."
The chuckle that came from you was rich and genuine. "Right, right." It doesn't look like you believed Haley for one bit, and she wants to definitely smack the smirk right off your face. "You should be careful next time though." You turned completely serious now. 
"I know. I was just taking a picture of..." she turns to point toward the subject of her camera only to find an empty spot where the squirrel should have been on. "Great," she huffed. "It's gone."
"What is?" you tilted your head in confusion and Haley didn't get why her stomach suddenly flipped from the gesture.
"The squirrel!" She flails her hands in exasperation. "I've been trying to get the perfect shot for hours!" 
"Don't worry," there's that smile again. "I see another one right over there."  
Truth be told from where the farmer's index finger points was a squirrel a couple of trees away. "But" Haley started when she remembered something," they always run away from me. I had to hide earlier to even get a shot."
You only hum in acknowledgment as you take a few walnuts from the pockets of your worn-out farmer pants. "Here." You reach out, clasping Haley's hands in yours, and place a few nuts on her open palms, and Haley's mind can only shut down at the sudden contact. 
You slowly leaned down, making an urging motion to the little guy as you began making clicking sounds with your mouth, hoping to get the squirrel's attention. The little guy paused and looked in their direction. You repeated the sound a few more times, and to Haley's delight, the squirrel started to approach them.
"Come on, little guy," you whispered, continuing to click your tongue. The squirrel hopped closer and closer until it was only a few feet away, its tiny nose twitching as it sniffed the air. You turned to her with a wide grin and Haley had to turn her cheek away, fearing of getting caught staring. "Just be gentle and they won't run away anymore. I've been feeding these guys for a while now and they easily warmed up to me. Here, let me show you."
You crouched down and held out a single walnut on your open palm. The bold little squirrel immediately scampered up to you, its tiny paws reaching for the treat.
Haley watched in amazement as you patiently fed the little guy, letting it nibble on the walnut before offering another. As she watched you interact with the animal, she couldn't help her stomach twist into knots once again.
"It's so cute." Haley bit back a smile.
"Aren't they?" You returned her with one of your own, your eyes crinkling at the corners. "It's your turn now."
"But I don't..."
"Don't worry, I got you." 
Haley wasn't exactly sure what 'I got you' meant but she didn't expect a pair of calloused hands wrapping on her own ones as the farmer guided her down to face the little animal. Haley's heart was pounding, hard and fast, and she liked to think it was because she was nervous around wild animals. She always liked taking a picture of them but feeding them up close is an entirely different story. Her parents also don’t like her touching them.
If you noticed her shaking hands, you didn't give any indication. Instead, you were giving her soft words of encouragement as she held out the walnut.
A sense of excitement surged up in her as the squirrel approached her with curious eyes before taking the walnut one by one with her tiny paws. 
"Are those supposed to fit all in its mouth?" Haley asked with a giggle, surprised at the sound of it escaping her lips.
Giggle? Haley never giggles.
But the sight of the little guy trying to fit its fifth walnut in its mouth was simply too adorable to ignore.
"I know, right?" You barked out a laugh.
Her heart sores at the sight. She tried to ignore her hands twitching to capture this moment but she knew she only has limited time before the squirrel runs away again.
So instead, she raised her camera, and took a quick adjustment with the shutter, lighting, and a bit of exposure before finally taking a snap.
'Next time,' she promises herself. 'I'll take a photo of her.'
She took a quick peek at the viewfinder. She wants to check first if it was blurred, or if the lighting suddenly becomes off at the last second.
But as she looked at the screen, she couldn't help but feel a sense of awe. The way the light was filtering through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground, was simply breathtaking. And the squirrel was perfectly captured in all its glory, with its bushy tail fanned out behind it and its tiny paws holding the nut with precision and delicacy. The sharpness of the image was astounding, with every little detail of the fur and the texture of the walnut visible in stunning clarity.
"Wow, this looks good." You were suddenly behind her, your warm breath tickling the back of Haley's neck. "I'm glad you made good use of the natural lighting. Squirrels get frightened a lot with flash."
Haley couldn't help but feel a bit flustered by the proximity of the farmer. "Kiss ass much?" she tried to joke, but her breath was caught in her throat.
You chuckled awkwardly and leaned back a bit, your ears turning a faint shade of pink. "I'm not—I..." you stumbled over your words. "It's a good photo, okay?"
Haley throws her head back and lets out a loud, unrestrained laugh.  
"Haha," you roll your eyes and pretend to walk out. 
Haley's hand shoots up to grab your arm for a brief moment in the midst of laughter.
"I was just kidding. Yoba, you're so serious."
Haley's grin was never wiped off from her face but she half expected you to frown at her or even look away. Yet, your eyes were sparkling in great amusement, the corners of your eyes crinkling, and you gave Haley your biggest, endearing smile.
"Am not!"
"Am, too!"
"Am not!"
"Am, too!"
Your banter continued, filled with playful bickering and teasing words, until you finally raised your hands in mock surrender. "You win, woman."
Haley smiled in triumph. "Ha, I'm always right anyway."
You could only smile at her antics, and Haley found herself wondering when was the last time she had openly enjoyed someone's company besides Alex's. He's not exactly the most exciting company since all he ever talks about is his grid ball but he's a great listener and a friend nonetheless
The farmer, however— Haley takes a good, subtle look at you.
Dark messy hair tied in a loose bun with uneven locks framing your face, a worn-out denim jacket over what looked like an old white shirt, and your boots were covered in mud and grass. Haley tried not to wince at a patch of mud just below your chin yet that stupid smile of yours made Haley overlook everything else.
Everything that Haley hated; dirt, hand-me-down clothes, and every single mundanity farm life could offer— she hates it all.
She started hating everything about the farmer long before she could even step foot in this town and yet this dork, this woman has the audacity to stand so close to her and give Haley that dumb smile and help her take a photo and just ugh.
How could she hate you now? 
"Is there something on my face?" 
Haley mutters another prayer to Yoba that the sun shining between the gaps of leaves from the trees hid the growing redness she felt rising from her face. 
"You're fine." Haley forced out with a teasing tone, hoping to hide her own nervousness.
"No, really, Haley?" Your fingers lightly touched your face in a self-conscious gesture, and Haley's heart skipped a beat. It was so endearing that she almost forgot to breathe. "Do I have something on my face? Was that the reason you're laughing?"
Haley rolled her eyes to mask the smile threatening on her face. Haley's name shouldn't sound so good coming from your mouth, but it is.
It's unfair, really.
"Oh, my god." Rolling her eyes, she whipped out a handkerchief she was keeping in her purse. She closes the distance between her and you. With a dainty hand, she wipes the mud from your neck. "Next time, maybe take a look in the mirror before stepping out," she added, trying to sound as snobbish as possible.
Key word 'try.'
Luckily, you actually had some dirt on you, so Haley had a reason why in Yoba's name she'd been looking at you for far too long than necessary, but she couldn't help but glance at you with a quirky smile on her lips.
"Thanks," you murmured, your tone almost bashful as you looked at Haley.
It was then that Haley realized just how close she was standing— much closer than she had intended. Before she could pull away, however, you surprised her by placing a gentle hand on hers, and in the other hand, producing a bright yellow daffodil seemingly out of thin air.
Haley didn't allow herself to breathe until you finally tucked the flower into her hair and finally put a space between the two of you before Haley did.
"As a thank you," you murmured.
"I..." Haley's mind was racing as she tried to decide whether to run or stay and face the overwhelming wave of emotions coursing through her. But before she could make up her mind, you beat her to it.
"I'm sorry!" You exclaimed apologetically, probably mistaking the look of horror (or probably utter embarrassment) written clearly on her face as discomfort. "I didn't mean to invade your personal space. I just..."
"No!" Haley couldn't help but interrupt, her voice rising in pitch, feeling a sense of urgency in her words. "I did it first and it’s no problem really." Lie. "I also got you something."
Summoning her courage, Haley dug into her purse and pulled out a freshly developed photo, one she had taken just three days ago. With trembling hands, she placed it into your open palms, this time keeping a respectful distance between the two of you.
"Here," she said.
"Oh." The farmer breathed in surprise. "This one is..."
"Yeah... the one the other day."
You hesitated before speaking again. "Are you sure?" you asked, concern lacing over your words. "This photo is amazing, Haley. I'd feel bad if..."
"Keep it," she said firmly. "Please, it's the least I could do after taking that shot without your consent." 
"It's okay. It turned out good anyway. Thank you!" You flashed her that smile again.
Haley felt a wave of relief wash over her. She was about to turn, taking that as her cue to leave when you moved to inspect the back of the photo.
Quickly, Haley spoke up, hoping to distract you.
"No problem! Uhm, I still need to cook for lunch, yeah." Another lie, but was good enough to capture your attention. "Thank you again for helping me and for the... saving thing. I'll... I'll see you around, yeah?" 
She wished she didn't sound so hopeful.
Your small grin reassured her. "For sure. I'll see you around, Haley."
****
"What's up, Hay? I haven't seen you in... wait— nice flower by the way! Where'd ya get 'em?"
"Just a thank-you gift from someone."
"A someone, huh?" Alex raised an eyebrow in playful suspicion. "Do I know this someone?"
"Ugh. Shut up, Alex!"
~~~~~
Notes:
Is this still even a slow burn?Oh, well I suck on it apparently. Still I hc Haley as having a lowkey admiration(or crush) for the farmer on the first year of Spring but was too stubborn (and oblivious) to admit it so here ya go
170 notes · View notes
ssa-atlas-alvez · 10 months
Note
cowboy readers and team run into his southern belle ex and maybe some jealous jj please 😍😍 love to see some jelly jj
Description: the BAU run into an old friend of cowboy reader while near his home town
Warning: jealousy, mentions past smoking addiction, that's about it
A/N: Hope you enjoy, this is after reader quits smoking
PART TWO (of this fic, this one is part one)
Taglist: @xweirdo101x @xdark-acadamiax @ara-a-bird @heidss @chubbyboyinflannel @pendragon-writes @migwayne @bigolgay @technikerin23 @supercriminalbean @honestlycasualarcade @caffeine-mess @1s3v3n1 @oddmiles @kevyeen @stealing-kneecaps @criminalskies @woodandwaxwings @wizardmon3 @aphroditeslovr @ducks118 @azeal-peal @13thdoctor-run @introvertpan84 @goth-boi-atlas
It was a case close to home, now the case had been wrapped up, you planned on staying one more night (spend celebrating in the bar and then sleeping in the hotel) and then you were taking them to your house to meet your family. This case being close to home though, also meant that you could bring Buddy with you to see his grandparents (which is where he currently was whilst you had a night of freedom before staying at your parents house).
“Hey, (Y/N),” You looked up from the case file at Penelope, “Since we’re so close to where you grew up, do you think we can meet the family?” 
You faltered for a moment, “I mean, I’d have to ask my Mama, but can’t see why not,” You said with a shrug, getting your phone out and texting her, ignoring the ‘aww’s from Penelope and Emily as you did so. “I’ve asked,”
It didn’t take long for her to respond (a whole three minutes). “She says of course,” You said, Derek and Penelope both cheering. "She says we can head down whenever. There's a good bar close by if you wanna celebrate first?"
"Let's get a move on then!" Garcia declared.
You drove them all to the bar, missing your truck as you did so. SUV's always hit different. Three drinks in (three drinks for everyone else, you were still making your way through your first pint - you weren't a big drinker), a woman approached you.
"(Y/N)? No way!" You turn at the familiar voice and meet face to face with your ex, Rose. She looks good, she's wearing shorts and a tank top, matched with cowboy boots and a hat. She's still pretty. 'She ain't got nothin' on JJ,' A small part of your brain chimes in, but you shrug it away. Nothing could happen anyway. A twinge of sadness swept through your stomach.
"Rose? Oh wow, it's been a while,"
Rose laughs, "I'll say! How ya been?" She brushes her hair off her face as she talks and you grin.
"Not too bad, just workin' mostly," You say with a nod.
"Hey, cowboy, you gonna introduce us?" Morgan smirks.
"Everyone this is Rose, Rose this is Morgan, JJ, Prentiss, Hotch, Rossi, Reid, and last but not least The Penelope Garcia."
"Hi, it's so nice to meet y’all," Rose grinned.
"How do you know (Y/N)?" Garcia asked.
"Oh we dated through high-school," Rose nodded, "Thought it was true love," And you laughed as you rolled your eyes slightly. "We were idiots back then," She added.
"Thanks," You muttered sarcastically.
"What? We were, you started smokin' and I was a mess." Rose explained. "Did you finally stop that smoking habit then?" Rose asks, folding her arms.
"Yes Ma'am," You said with a nod, "JJ here forced me after I jumped back on the wagon,"
"She must be a very special lady if she could make you of all people quit."
"She guilted me into it," You tease lightly, shooting JJ a smile. You force the smile to stay as you see the hesitant smile JJ sent you. Had you said something wrong?
You were too caught up in talking to Rose, you didn't see JJ walking off. Or Emily following her.
"Hey, JJ, you okay?"
"Hm? Yeah, I'm fine," JJ said, fake smile in place.
Emily raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "Yeah and your sudden fowl mood has nothing to do with the attractive woman (Y/N) is talking to?" JJ sighed as she felt herself blush. "Ah, so I'm onto something, am I?" She teased. "What's going on? What you thinking?"
"I've developed... feelings for him." JJ admits hesitantly. "And seeing her talk to him makes me feel..."
"Jealous?"
"No. Insecure."
"You? Insecure?" Emily asked, jaw dropping.
JJ groaned, "Please don't start singing one direction,"
"What? No! Gross." Emily paused, "Is this insecurity paired with... any other feelings?"
"A little bit of jealousy I guess," JJ mumbled.
"Are you going to talk to him about it?"
"God no!" JJ exclaims, blushing when she realises how loudly she protested. "I mean, not right now."
Emily gave a small chuckle. "You jealous about anything in particular?"
"That they were dating." JJ said with a shrug.
"Ooo does someone wanna date a cowboy?" JJ flushed bright red. "I'll take that as a yes."
"Okay, yeah, but he clearly doesn't feel the same so there's no point. I just need to get over him."
"Er, excuse, rewind-" Emily said, pointing her wine glass at her. "Are you both blind? You clearly both feel the same way about each other."
"Emily-"
"No. JJ, you both like each other so for God's sake get together!"
"You're just saying that." JJ said. Emily groaned, throwing her hand in the air. "Come on, let's just forget about it and get drunk."
Emily shrugged, that sounded like a good idea to her.
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reidsc0nverse · 10 months
Text
A Rose by Any Other Name (Chapter Two)
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Summary: Reader accompanies Emily to a club during a case where Spencer shows her one of his many talents with the help of the one and only Derek Morgan.
Warnings: Language (not much at all)
AN: This is based on episode 4x9 (obviously) and basically goes along with the story. Also let's pretend Courtney (the bartender) wasn't the object of Spencer's attention for his magic trick. K thanks.
Series Masterlist
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The other day when I walked through the doors of the BAU I was not expecting to be thrown into my job, but of course, it happened. 
I was in the technical analyst Penelope Garcia's office when all of a sudden JJ (as she now told me I can call her) went into labor. How wonderful.
I mean don't get me wrong I'm so happy for her, but I still had a good week of training that I could've used.
That was two weeks ago, so now I'm fully in my spot as Communications Liaison, and not to brag or anything.. I'm doing pretty well. 
Right now we've been working a case in Atlanta where a guy of the "Alpha Male" type would kill women that he would pick up from the local bars. The team came to the conclusion that he was getting his tips from a pick up artist that seems to be teaching his skills to other men. 
They call him "Viper" and, according to Emily, he's a real treat.
"He's a grade A asshole." she huffs walking into the room of the precinct I'm in. 
"That bad?" I ask and she slumps into the chair next to mine.
"He makes me wanna gauge my eyes out." She says, laughing, but clearly annoyed. So far while I've been on the team she and I have gotten pretty close and she's honestly one of my favorite people. 
"I'm so glad I wasn't there." I say, shaking my head. I've dealt with one too many narcissists on a personal level so if I had to listen to a guy go on for ages about how to play hard to get with a girl or blatantly insult them to get them attracted to him I'd probably lose my mind.
"Time to give the profile" Derek says as he sticks his head in the room. Emily sighs and walks out with me to the rest of the team. 
They go on giving out details to the local PD and I drone out until Spencer talks to me, or at me kind of. "I like those earrings, yeah my grandma has a lot of fake jewelry also." 
PARDON?
He smiles and waves it off as not serious, which I understood he was only exemplifying what our unsub does but it didn't diminish the fact that it was funny as hell. 
After the team finishes I get up and Spencer walks towards me, "Um, sorry about that. I just needed to show them what the unsub learned from Viper."
I laugh and wave him off, "No no don't apologize it's fine, it gave me a good laugh so I'm really not hurt by it."
He smiles and Hotch calls us over to where the rest of the team stands. 
They explain that we need to see about more of what the unsub may have learned back at the group discussions and they hint that Emily is gonna need to go back and talk to Viper.
"Oh. Oh god, this is really gonna suck." 
A little later, Emily comes to me after the team splits up with a cheeky look on her face and her hands behind her back.
"Y/NNNNN...." she drags.
"Oh god what do you want." I say playfully, already knowing what she's gonna say.
"You know, Derek is bringing Spencer as a wingman, so maybe you coulddd..."
"Fine fine, but if we're hitting the club I don't think my work attire is gonna cut it." I say, looking down at the blouse and black pair of pants I'm wearing. 
She shakes her head, "Ah, no worries, I have something you might fit in." She pulls out two dresses from behind her back and hands one to me.
"So you just happen to have party wear in your go bag?" I ask, looking at the black tight fit dress now in my hands.
"We go to some interesting places." She smirks and smacks my shoulder lightly, continuing, "Come on, I'll help you get ready." 
She takes my hand and we go to the PD locker room, getting changed and she gets her makeup out.
"I thought you hated this guy, now you're getting all dolled up." I tease her, she laughs and starts applying her eye makeup. 
"I take every opportunity I can get to look hot as shit with a job like this. Plus, we're still going to the club." She jokes back and after a couple minutes we're done getting ready and meet up with Derek and Spencer at the car.
"Heyy, looking good ladies." Derek says with a cocky smile and Spencer waves at me awkwardly. 
"How flattering." Emily says and then huffs, turning to me, "You better help me through dealing with this worm." 
"Of course" I say, hand on my heart and all.
Once we get to the club we decide to split up, Derek and Spencer asking girls in the club if they've seen anyone similar to our unsub, and Emily going up ahead of me while we face this nightmare of a man.
She tells me to stay back until the right time and I watch her play her game of flirting while continuing to intrigue the man. She looks back at me when he gets a little too confident and a little too close so I walk towards them, Viper's eyes following me carefully.
The conversation goes as usual, some mindless snarky remarks tossed around as he starts discussing eye contact, more specifically pupil dilation. 
"Okay fifteen seconds." Emily says in response to the eye contact that Viper has been making with me, and trying to prove a point.
"What do you see?" I ask.
"Nope, no dilation."
Viper comes quick with his response, "Ah, because you have someone else on the mind." 
Do I? Maybe. I don't know. No.
Emily eyes me teasingly and the conversation between us and Viper goes stale until he gives us just what we want for the case. He gives us that our unsub is going to go for his "queen bee," the focus on all his killing. 
Emily calls Hotch with our findings and I meet up with Derek and Spencer as they talk, or..bicker maybe.
"Come here pretty girl," Derek says to me, I comply, confused but still.
"Pretend she's someone you're showing the unsub to, use that magic." Derek says to Spencer, putting me in front of him, but he explains to me that apparently Spencer isn't having any luck giving the profile out to the girls at the club so now he's doing..magic?
I don't know how he's not having luck, he's an attractive guy. I would feel like girls would go crazy trying to talk to him but I guess not.
Spencer looks at me like he really doesn't wanna do this, but he goes with it anyway. "Don't worry I'll play along" I tell him and he seems comforted in that.
He begins by acting as though we've never met and asks me if I've seen the man in the drawing before, I nod no and he pulls out a pen.
"We have reason to believe he has a scar about right..here." He says, running the pen through the paper and moving it around, leaving no rips in the paper.
"Woah, woah. What? How did you do that?" I ask, inspecting the paper. 
He shrugs and smirks, "A magician never reveals his secrets." 
Derek laughs and pats his back, "That's what I'm talking about, pretty boy!" 
After the case ends smoothly we arrive at the BAU once again and settle everything down. I go to JJ's office which is mine temporarily and get some paperwork out of the way with Emily.
"So, don't mean to remind you of Viper, but, is there someone on your mind?" She asks teasingly.
"Oh god." I groan and put my face in my hands.
She snickers and responds, "Oh so there is!"
"Maybe." I say, dragging the word out. "But I don't know, he doesn't really know me that well."
She nods, I feel like she sees right through me.
"Seems like you and Spencer kind of had a good time earlier."
I choke on my own spit, "Um what?" I say, coughing. Covering my mouth as well as the slight pink coming onto my face.
She smiles and nods her head as a tall figure walks in the doorway. "Speak of the devil." She says and walks out, I look up and see Spencer, so now she's leaving me and him alone.
His eyebrows furrow, and I wave it off.
"Hello there, Houdini."  I say smiling up at him, he laughs and leans against the doorway.
"You know it's an easy trick, nothing up to Houdini's standard." 
I shrug. "Eh, still impressive." 
Things are quiet for a moment and there's a hint of tension in the air until he clears his throat and starts.
"You looked really nice today, by the way. Just thought I'd say." His face goes red and I smirk.
"You came all this well to compliment me?" I tease. He laughs sheepishly and shakes his head. 
"No, no. I was um, I was coming to ask you if maybe you wanted to grab a coffee or something. Maybe I could show you how I really do that trick?"
He was nervous, obviously. But that didn't help the grin on my face growing and trying to hold back the blush that's definitely growing on my face.
"I thought magicians couldn't tell anyone how they do their tricks." I reply, more calmly than I thought I would've, I mean I'm just trying to play it cool.
"I can make an exception. I'll let you know, I have your number right?"
I nod and he smiles again and sticks up an awkward thumbs up, "Cool. Well, I'll see you later." 
"Bye, Spencer" I say playfully and as we walks out to the hallway I peek out and see Derek standing by the doors that leave the office with a cheeky look. I can see the back of Spencer's head nod and Derek raise his arms, saying something but they're too far to hear. 
Guessing Derek convinced him to go for it. 
Good thing.
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I'm gonna be real and say I kinda hate this chapter but I promise it gets good. ALSO TYSM ON THE SUPPORT FOR THE LAST PART IM SO GRATEFUL UGH.
taglist: @darkenwolfie @justlivinginadaydream @daddy-dotcom @itsametaphorbriansblog @rosesandlavendertea @4karaa
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forhappysake · 5 months
Text
What Lurks Within, Pt. 8
Author's Note: I'm putting off studying for an exam by posting this fic, so please enjoy! (P.S., I think there's only a few chapters left until the end, so things are gonna heat up.)
Content: When the team decides to interrogate the Denver Police Chief, he cracks under the pressure. His confession leads the BAU to draw conclusions about their unsub's true target.
Warnings: established relationship, some fluff if you squint, brief mentions of domestic abuse, a single mention of the Cat Adams case, a little anxiety and frustration
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I let the weight of Emily's words roll over me. Matt spoke next, “Y/N, tell her what you found out from Mrs. Graydon.” 
I nodded. Emily raised her eyebrows and gestured her hand toward me, offering me the floor. I rose from my seat and approached the head of the table as Emily took my former seat. “Okay,” I started. “Lucia Graydon says her husband has been abusing herself and her children for years, so much so that she feared for their lives.” 
I turned to Luke, “That’s why she dropped the domestic case against him. Graydon’s been using his own children to keep his wife from turning him in for abuse.” Luke’s eyes grew wide as the realization swept over him. He nodded and ran a hand over his stubble.  
“So what’s the connection?” Rossi asked. “I see that Graydon’s an abusive asshole, I don’t doubt that, but what would motivate him to ruin Whittendon’s investigation?”
“Maybe Whittendon knows something. The detective could have threatened to bust Graydon for the abuse, and this could be Graydon’s way of getting back at him,” JJ suggested. 
Spencer frowned and shook his head in disagreement. “That’s too simple. If Graydon wanted to get back at Whittendon, he could just demote him. He certainly wouldn’t have to put civilians' lives at risk by tampering with a murder investigation.”
I took a seat at the head of the table, trying to think through our next steps. “Don’t we have enough evidence to put Graydon in an interrogation room?” I asked. “His wife told a federal agent that her family’s been serially abused. We’ve deduced he has to be the one who tampered with the files.” I shrugged, “What are we waiting for?”
All heads at the table turned to Emily, who took a deep breath. “I was waiting for enough evidence to put him in handcuffs. But, I think you’re onto something, Y/N. With the amount of evidence we’ve collected,” she concluded, “I think we could put him in a room and try to get more information.”
“He’s in his office right now,” Matt said. “I’d be more than happy to go get him.” 
“Fine,” Emily said, “take Spencer with you in case he resists.” Matt nodded to Spencer, as both men rose from the table and exited the conference room. I watched with wide eyes as they approached the door to Graydon’s office. Without bothering to knock, Matt pushed the door open. 
JJ and I crowded by the conference room doorway, trying to get a good look at what happened next. From across the room, I heard Graydon ask the boys what they were doing. Matt must have replied, as Graydon’s face became ashen and his movements became agitated. Graydon rose from the desk, banging his hand on the table. 
At this point, all the office employees were watching intently as JJ and I. Matt said something to Spencer, who walked to the other side of Graydon’s desk. As Matt forcibly pushed the chief on to the desktop, Spencer smacked his handcuffs on to each of the police chief’s wrists. 
Matt yanked on the handcuffs, bringing Graydon to a standing position as he brought him to the front of the desk. Spencer grabbed him by one arm, and Matt by the other. The Chief was roaring at thai point, stomping his feet and throwing a fit if I’d ever seen one. Matt and Spencer maintained stoic expressions as they drug him out of his office, through the bullpen, and down a hallway towards the interrogation rooms. 
Hushed whispers went up around the office as incredulous precinct workers gathered in small huddles to discuss the possibilities of what had just happened. “That was… intense,” Rossi said from somewhere behind JJ and I. 
JJ turned to face him. “Did you really expect him to go without a fight?” 
Rossi shook his head in response, “No, I didn’t.”
“I’d better go make sure the boys have everything under control,” I said. As I turned to leave the conference room, I voiced one more request, “Could somebody please call Garcia and see if she has any leads on the location of the Graydon kids?” 
“I’ll do it,” Luke said. He whipped his phone out of his pocket. “Go ahead, Y/N. I’ll let you know if she’s figured out anything.” He shooed me out of the room with one hand, holding the phone to his ear with the other. 
I made my way down the hallway, following the path Spencer and Matt had taken moments before. I opened the door to the observer’s room of the interrogation area. Matt and Spencer stood before the one-way mirror, examining Graydon as he struggled against the handcuffs which held him to the table. “Sons of bitches!” Graydon shouted. “You goddamn agents let me out of here. I’ll call your supervisor!”
Matt scoffed, “Our supervisor? Do we even have one of those?” 
“Well, I’m glad you two have this under control. Who's supposed to go in there and start asking questions?” I asked. The boys looked at each other, offering a small shrug before turning back to me.
“We should consult with Emily first,” Spencer said. “I’m sure she’d like to be a part of this.” 
Almost on cue, the observation room door swung open as Emily and Rossi walked into the room. “Well, well, well, doesn’t look so confident now,” Rossi said as he observed the vein bulging out of Graydon’s forehead. The police chief’s hands were clenched into fists, which he occasionally banged off the tabletop. 
“Alright,” Emily said, “here’s what we’re going to do. I don’t think Graydon’s going to respond well if Rossi and I try to go in there and ask questions. He’s threatened by authority, and two senior agents getting in his face isn’t going to get us anywhere.” 
Rossi sighed dramatically. “Too bad, I would’ve loved a shot at him. Anyways, what do you have in mind?” he asked Emily. 
“I think we need an equal balance of seniority and inferiority in the room to get him to talk,” she said. “Which is why Spencer and Y/N are going to do it,” she gestured in our direction. I felt my facial expression twitch, but attempted to remain stoic as I casted a side glance at Spencer. He raised his eyebrows. The two of us hadn’t worked together in an interrogation room since the Cat Adams ordeal. 
I cleared my throat. “What do you think, Spence?” He tapped his finger on the side of his leg, either in anticipation or anxiety - possibly a mixture of both. 
“We can do it,” he said. If his confidence was faux, he did an excellent job of hiding it. He offered me a reassuring smile. 
“We’re ready when you are,” Rossi said. He took a step backwards and opened the observation room door, holding it for Spencer and I. Spencer left the room first with me close behind. As Rossi shut the door behind us, I heard him say something along the lines of, “We’re about to see the dynamic duo back in action, everyone watch and learn!”
I giggled, tugging on Spencer’s sleeve. “Did you hear that?” I asked. He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. After a couple steps, we stood outside the interrogation room. I watched him take a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. I reached for his hand, intertwining it with my own, “Hey, we’re gonna do great. Like Rossi said, it’ll be just like before…” 
He turned to face me, offering my hand a small squeeze. “Back together and better than ever?” he asked, only half joking. I nodded, reciprocating the hand squeeze before undoing my fingers from his own and falling in line behind him. He opened the door to the interrogation room, where Graydon waited with his large hands still balled in tight fists. 
“I have been in here for thirty minutes and I demand to know why!” he slammed his hands on the table again as Spencer and I took our respective seats at the table. I always sat to his left. It was a pattern we found worked for us in my earliest days with the BAU. 
“Chief Graydon, I’d advise you to calm down and work with us a bit,” Spencer said. “I don’t believe we’ve formally met. My name is Dr. Spencer Reid, this is Agent L/N. We need to ask you some questions.” Graydon quieted down for a moment, listening to the introductions and taking in our faces. 
“I don’t appreciate the way you manhandled me earlier, son,” Graydon said to Spencer. 
Spencer raised his eyebrow in disdain, ignoring the comment. “Thankfully, I’m not your son,” Spencer said, opening the file before him and smacking down on the table in front of Graydon. “However, Phillip is. Where is he?”
Graydon shifted in his seat, averting his eyes from Phillip’s photograph. It was obvious he was hiding something and Spencer had clearly touched a nerve. Graydon’s gruff voice broke through the silence, “I haven’t seen Phil since he turned eighteen.” 
“If I were him, I’d want to be far away from you, too,” Spencer said. He pulled the file away from Graydon, leaving Phillip’s picture on the table in clear view. Spencer handed me the file and I thumbed through the papers before settling on a copy of Whittendon’s initial case report that Penelope received from the Denver department. 
I removed the copy of Whittendon’s report and placed it neatly on the table, next to the picture of Phillip. If Graydon hadn’t been nervous before, he looked as though he was trying to disappear into thin air now. “If you haven’t seen your son, maybe you can fill us in on how these reports got to be such a disaster,” I said. 
Graydon scanned the reports, flexing his hands on the table. He bit down on his lip nervously, it looked as though he could have drawn blood. He shook his head, “I don’t know anything about that. Ryan’s the one at fault for his own damned reports.”
“Chief Graydon,” I spoke again, “work with us, here. Only three people had access to these files: Whittendon, Richie, and yourself. We know you’re the one who corrupted these files. Now, we want to know why.”  
Graydon shifted uncomfortably in his seat once more. I could tell he was beginning to break down, his worried eyes sneaking glances at Spencer and myself. He whispered, almost so quietly that neither of us could hear him, “You two don’t understand what’s happening here.” 
“You’re right,” Spencer said quietly, “we don’t. We need you to help us understand.” I tried to hold back my smirk. Spencer’s interrogation tactics were flawless. Giving Graydon the power? Nice move, Spence. 
Spencer rose from the table, pacing back and forth as I remained stoic in the chair across from the police chief. “You don’t understand the lengths you’d go to protect someone you love,” Graydon mumbled again. 
I looked to Spencer, who averted his gaze from Graydon and turned to face me. There was a certain sadness in his eyes. I couldn't place it. I stared at Spencer for a moment before I responded to Graydon’s remark. “You have no idea how much I understand those lengths,” I said. 
All of his fidgeting stopped as Graydon broke down at the interrogation room table. The burly man turned a dark shade of crimson as he wept. His once balled fists came loose as he wiped at his tears with the back of his hands, like a large toddler. “You have to tell me what you did so that I can help you,” I said gently. 
“I fucked with the files,” he cried. “It was me, I-I’m the one that messed them up. Ryan’s got no part in this. D-don’t blame him or Richie.” Tears continued to streak down his face as he sputtered. 
“Why’d you do it?” Spencer asked from his standing position in the corner of the room. Graydon continued to cry, tears soaking the collar of his uniform. 
Graydon’s eyes flickered down to the table where the picture of Phillip rested in front of us. A brief realization came over me. “You mentioned protecting someone you love,” I said. “Does Phillip have something to do with all this?”
Graydon covered his face with his hands, sinking even lower in his chair. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he whispered. The three of us remained silent for a moment while Graydon gathered his thoughts. “I altered the files because-” he stuttered again, trying to contain his tears, “because I think Phil’s the one behind all this.” He let out another choked sob. 
Spencer approached the table and reclaimed his seat to my right. “Why do you think that?” he asked. 
Graydon struggled to speak through the fresh tears streaming down his red cheeks. “The m-marbles from the crime scenes. They’re his. I gave them to h-him, when he was l-little.” 
At that moment, Luke burst through the interrogation room door. “I need to talk to you both,” he said, his tone serious. 
“Excuse us,” I said quietly, collecting the file from the table, but leaving Phillip’s picture out in front of Graydon. Maybe the guilt would eat away at him and he’d have more to say when we got back. 
Luke led us out into the hallway and back to the observation room where the rest of the team waited for us. Emily’s tablet was propped up against the one-way glass with Garcia on a video call. “Hey, Pen,” I said as I walked in the room. 
“I worked some magic,” she said, “A homeless shelter in the next county recognized the picture of Phillip I sent to them. Local law enforcement are on the lookout for him now.” 
“That’s great, especially considering the bombshell his father just dropped,” I paused for a moment, looking around the observation room. I noticed Penelope tapping her pen to her lips, as if waiting to be prompted further. “I have a feeling there’s something else you’ve got to share,” I said. 
She smiled, “I’m so glad you asked, young one.” She tapped away on her computer for a few moments before continuing. “Remember how we couldn’t find any links between our many victims?” she asked. Heads bobbed around the room. “Right,” she said, “Well, I think I’ve found the connection.”
“What is it, Garcia?” Emily asked, stepping forward into Penelope’s line of view. “After scouring all of their social media accounts, I am under the impression that all of these men visited a local park in their neighborhood within the last week of their lives.” She typed away on her keyboard for another moment, “Not to mention, they visited with their kids.” 
Emily’s mouth dropped open and I felt myself have a similar reaction. Penelope went silent, waiting for our response. Luke was the first to speak, “I’m sorry, I’m not sure I follow what’s happening here. What does taking their kids to the park have to do with ending up dead in the park?” 
Spencer spoke next, “It’s not about the park. It’s about the victims’ roles as active fathers. If Phillip is homeless and has been staying in local parks, he’s seen each of these men and their interactions with their children.”
JJ nodded, “He’s likely seen the victims carrying out gentle and loving interactions with their children that he never had with his own father.” 
I turned from Penelope’s face on the table to face the rest of our group. I locked eyes with Rossi, thinking back to our earlier conversation, “So if Phillip’s rage isn’t directed at each individual man, his true target must be-” We all turned to face the man in the interrogation room, whose tear soaked shirt remained a darker shade of blue than the rest of his attire. 
“Bingo,” Rossi deadpanned. 
The silence in the observation room was thick. Though this case had been intense from the start, no moment could have topped the anxiety brought on by the settling realization that the police chief’s own son was the one carrying out these murders. 
“Okay,” Emily said. “Garcia, you said local law enforcement is already on the lookout for Phillip Graydon?” 
“Yes, ma’am,” Garcia said. 
“Good. I want you to notify the surrounding counties that we’re on the lookout for Graydon’s son. Send them a description and tell them to canvas local parks, especially.” 
Penelope nodded, “Over and out,” she said. Emily’s tablet screen went dark with her sign off. 
“JJ,” Emily said, “Could you go get Detective Whittendon from his office? I think we should brief him on this newest development.” Without a word, JJ walked out of the observation room before returning a minute later with Whittendon in tow. 
“What’s going on?” he asked. “I heard you guys brought Graydon in for questioning. Do you think he has something to do with this?” 
“Ryan,” Emily said, “I’m going to be honest with you, because we need your entire department on board to catch this guy.” Whittendon nodded fervently. “Phillip Graydon is likely our unsub.” Whittendon looked as though he’d been punched in the gut. He brought both hands up to his face to cover his mouth in an attempt to stifle his shock. 
“Oh, God,” he murmured. He began pacing in circles around the observation room. “Phil? Are you sure? I know he’s had problems but… Oh…” Whittendon stepped over to the wall and allowed himself to lean back, widening his eyes at the ceiling in evident distress. 
“So what do we do now?” Matt asked. “Are we just supposed to sit here and wait for Phillip to show up somewhere?” 
Rossi shrugged. “Local law enforcement is out canvassing parks, we could join in that effort for the time-being.”
I nodded, “We should be out looking as well. More eyes never hurt.” 
“Right,” Emily said. “Split into groups. Matt and JJ can head West. Y/N and Spencer, head East. Rossi and Luke, head North. Detective Whittendon, you’re with me, we’re headed South. 
We all filed out of the observation room and out the precinct doors. Night had fallen and the chill of the Colorado evening sent shivers down our spine as we loaded into four separate vehicles. With Spencer in the driver’s seat, we sped off to the Eastern part of town. I watched our teammates in the rearview mirror, as their headlights disappeared into the darkness. 
Spencer’s voice broke through the silence in the SUV, “I think we did pretty good in there, yeah?” 
I nodded. “It felt like it used to,” I said quietly. He smiled, removing a hand from the wheel and placing it gently on my knee. I placed by hand over his own, offering his hand a gentle squeeze before he removed his hand and placed it back on the wheel. 
“Well,” I said as I pulled out my tablet. “It looks like there’s a few different parks in upcoming neighborhoods. Ashwood, for one, and two we haven’t been to yet. Freedom Creek Park and Pulliam’s Park.”
Spencer thought for a moment. “I doubt he’d strike the same place twice, and I doubt he’d been staying in Ashwood since he’s already dumped a body there. That would be too obvious.” 
“So we’ll start with Freedom Creek?” I asked. Spencer nodded in response. I loaded the directions from my tablet to the SUV’s display. The fifteen minute drive to the park was full of comfortable silence as I took in the clarity of the night sky and Spencer stayed focused on the road. When we finally did arrive, a small lit sign that read “Freedom Creek Park: Open Sun-Up to Sun-Down” greeted us. 
To be continued…
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reidsdaisies · 27 days
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500 followers celebration!!
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♡・𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ; 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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I reached 500 followers this week!! first of all, AAAHHHH!!!! second, thank you to everyone who’s followed and those of you who have interacted with my posts, and also who have sent in asks! it really means a lot to me. i’ve been struggling with actually finishing the works i’ve already started and getting them posted.. so maybe this will help with my motivation and whatnot (excuses, excuses 🤦‍♀️). you don’t know how much it means to me that 500 people have liked my blog and shitty little blurbs and stuck around. I took inspiration for this from golden1u5t who is doing their 2k celebration and since my milestone is lesser i did this on a slightly smaller scale and I’ve always wanted to do one of these prompt things lol i just hope people will actually send in requests 😭 if it doesn’t happen, that’s okay, i just want you guys to know i appreciate you and im trying 😭. thank you again, and now, to the main post!
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𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 little 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐩!
Guidelines;
You can send in requests for any of the characters I currently write for; Spencer Reid, Emily Prentiss, Aaron Hotchner, any other mgg characters, & Ethan Landry
If you’re nervous when it comes to sending in asks, the anon option is always turned on
You can request one prompt or multiple! You could never go wrong with a whole bouquet of roses 😏
Specify if you want fem!reader or gn!reader, sub/dom/softdom character/reader
Please make sure that when you are requesting, you have a plotline to go with the prompt of your choice. It can be a very simple plotline. Ex: 'can I order a tulip for emily prentiss with prompt 1 where reader is talking and emily is admiring them?’
I’ll continue this for 1.5 weeks until April 8th. (After the 8th I won’t be accepting anymore requests for this but I will try to finish any that I receive up until then as fast as I can) I don’t know if that’s too long I just want to make sure I have enough time to write because sometimes my brain is lacking
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Tulip – 30 fluff/sfw dialogue/action prompts
"I could listen to you all day."
“Are you blushing?”
“You’re so cute, it actually pains me.”
“Here, take my jacket.”
“You’re going to get us caught.” “Just a quick kiss, no one will see.”
“Could you maybe read me to sleep?”
“Could we maybe–uh I don’t know.. hold hands?”
“Hypothetically speaking, if I were to ask you out on a date.. would you say yes?”
“I like the sound of there being an ‘us’.”
“I think I’m in love with you. No, I know I am.”
“You’re cute when you’re jealous.”
 “Do you mind if i sleep here tonight?”
“I have to go to work.” “No, you have to stay in bed with me.”
 “I want to start a family with you.”
“I’m so lucky to have you.”
“You smell good today,” “Oh, so you’re saying I don’t smell good everyday?” “That’s not what I meant and you know it.” “I guess I just love to push your buttons.”
“Would it be alright if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you.”
Character A bringing Character B cup of coffee because they “looked like you could use some caffeine”
Stargazing
Letting them cuddle up to you when they’re cold
Sleeping on their chest
Character A covering Character b with a blanket when they’ve noticed they’ve fallen asleep on the couch
Styling/playing with their hair
Hugging them at random
Fixing an article of their clothing before leaving the house
Bringing them flowers to cheer them up
Rolling over in bed, switching positions during a kiss
Good morning/good night texting
Baking together
Slow dancing in the living room
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Forget-me-not – 25 hurt/comfort dialogue prompts
“You can't scare me like that, okay?"
“You should be more careful."
“Let me help you."
"You don't have to be afraid anymore."
"You’re safe in my arms."
“Sh, sh, you're okay now."
“Just listen to the sound of my voice, okay?”
“Does that hurt?"
"You can cry, there's no shame in it."
"Stop trying to help me, it's hurting you."
“I’m trying to be strong for you.”
"It wasn't your fault."
"Don't listen to that voice inside your head, listen to mine."
"What can i do for you?”
"I would never leave you, i'm not going anywhere.
"I've got you."
"Just come here. let me hold you."
"It was just a nightmare, it's okay."
"Could you please come and get me?"
"Are you okay? don't lie."
“Hey… hey… why are you crying?”
"I'm here for you, whenever you need me."
"You're not alone."
"It really hurts."
"I'm sorry i can't take the pain away."
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Rose – 30 smut/nsfw dialogue prompts
“Wanna take this to the bed?”
“Did you just say what I think you said?”
“I've been thinking about this all day.”
“It’s too late for this” – “You don’t have to do anything, just stay laying down”
“Let me stay like this in you for a little bit.”
“Shirt on or off?”
“Fuck, I’ve never— I’ve never done this before—“ “That’s fine. We can take it slow. It’s all about you, okay?”
“I’ll talk you through it, okay?”
 “Just let me take care of you, baby.”
“Does this feel good?”
“Be good, and i'll fuck you / let you fuck me.”
 “Are you trying to turn me on right now? Because it’s working.”
“Wait! Leave that on.”
“No underwear? Did you plan this?”
“Shut up and kiss me already.”
 “Dont leave any marks.”
“Spread your legs for me.”
“You’re so beautiful all spread out like this, just for me.”
 “We’ll make it fit.”
 “Just like that, good boy/girl.”
“Fuck… you’re so good at that.”
 “Fuck- just- right there! That feels so good.”
“I don’t— I don’t think I can last any longer, fuck, please—”
 “You just can't help yourself, can you?”
 “Do i make you nervous?”
 “You act all innocent around our friends, but i know just how dirty you really are.”
“How bad do you want it?”
“Nobody can know about this, okay?”
“This is a one time thing”
“I thought you said it was a one time thing?”
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a handful of these I came up with, some are from pinterest, and the rest are from the following blogs;
@cosmophoriia
@airaibunny
@mirclealignr
@scealaiscoite
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21 notes · View notes
smurphyse · 9 months
Text
Low Tide | Spencer Reid
Smurph's Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Part 9 of Routine Maintenance
Warnings: makeouts, dry humping, sexual negotiations, nipple play, rough heavy petting, hair pulling, interrupted sex
Summary: You give Spencer a haircut... which leads to something else. Later, you go out to dinner with Holly and Michelle and Spencer.
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Spencer spent the week avoiding Honey, and she seemed to be doing much of the same. He heard through the grapevine that she spent most of it working on her boat. He didn't know how to address the kiss any more than he'd already. He didn't really want to get into it with her, and now that they'd been forced into this double date he was feeling more anxious by the day. 
His car was in the shop still, and unlike every other town he'd been to in the last two years, he couldn't just hop in and drive away from his fears. He was stuck here for at least another three weeks, but as Friday finally approached, he found himself standing outside her apartment door. 
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He kept finding himself staring at the wall, knowing the only news from her might be bad news. He was making lists of shit to tell his therapist, all the reasons it had been a shitty thing for him to do, when it hit him. 
Who gives a shit? 
He'd be leaving soon, and she had clearly been interested in him. She didn't tell him to stop, not even when Rose and Emily showed up. Honey hadn't pushed him away or yelled. Instead, she'd kissed him back and moaned in his ear. He had nothing to feel bad about, and neither did she. 
It was best to act like it didn't happen. 
The last time he really saw her was when Emily left. They'd shared a hug and a long talk, then she went inside. He and Emily had a tearful goodbye full of hugs and promises to call more often, and since then Spencer still hadn't called the team. He should. Maybe tomorrow to let Emily know how it went. 
Tucci's wasn't a high class restaurant according to Holly, but it was nicer than the ones in town. Spencer's hair had grown out so much in the last few years, and even after the bruises from the fight faded and he returned his brace to Dr. Altman, he was still struggling with his looks. 
Spencer just looked so tired, and with his scraggly beard and overgrown hair, he decided it was time to make a small change. He didn't plan on wearing anything besides a nicer jacket and pants to dinner, but he still felt he owed Honey the decency of looking nice for their forced date. 
He knew nothing would come of it, and he didn't want it to. He was a wanderer now, had no home, but he wanted to look nice for her. 
Spencer's hand shook as he knocked on her door. He didn't even know if she could help him, but he'd yet to figure out where the barber shop was in town and he didn't want people to gossip around him after he cleaned himself up. 
She opened the door in another pair of her trademark tiny shorts and a tight crop tank top. Her newly dried hair hung in ringlets down over her shoulders, the fresh scent of citrus and saltwater wafting from her after a shower. 
"Hey," she breathed with an awkward smile. "Is everything okay?"
Spencer nodded, trying to ignore how good her curves looked in that outfit. She still wore her wedding ring around her neck, and he couldn't help but think about how it had felt to lick his way under the strap and taste her skin. 
"Do you know how to cut hair?" he asked instead of kissing her like he wanted to. She leaned against the doorframe, tapping it as she watched him. 
"Uh, yeah," she replied with a smirk. "Come on in."
She turned on her heel and went right up the stairs, expecting him to follow. His eyes went straight for her ass, watching as it jiggled with each step. She looked too damned good for how long it had been since he'd had sex. It was frustrating. Now that he'd gotten a taste of her, he just wanted more. But he was leaving soon. Not soon enough for it to not be awkward after. The last thing he needed was to be chased out of town under a cloud for fucking their beloved young widow. 
Spencer looked around as he reached the top of the stairs, taking in the lofted apartment above the Inn. It was just a big open concept room with a kitchen in one corner, her bed in the other. A television was set up on the wall, a small dining table nearby. There was a room in the middle with an open door, and he could see the big clawfoot tub sitting inside the bathroom. 
She had a lot of sea-related decor, mixed with a bit of boho. Her couch was bright orange velvet, with teal and pink throw pillows. She had gauzy white curtains embroidered with seashells along the windows. One of the walls was a brightly painted mural with flowers. The whole place seemed to be jam packed with ridiculousness that somehow fit Honey perfectly. 
The walls were mostly windows, overlooking most of the town. It was beautiful up here, the view of the midday sun heading toward the ocean in the distance. Like Mattie May, she had pictures plastered all over. 
He recognized Ernesto, Holly and Rico, though they were much younger. Rico had long hair and Ernesto’s hair was braided back. Holly looked more or less the same with his military haircut. There were pictures of more townsfolk, including some with Honey, but there was one that caught his eye. 
It was of Honey, but she looked to be about fourteen in the photo on the mantle. A girl had her arm slung over her shoulder and flashed an easy smile at the camera, but she barely looked older than Honey. She also looked almost exactly like her. The broad expanse of the ocean in winter laid behind them, both dressed in puffy coats with red cheeks and bright grins. It must have been taken in her home town in Maine. 
"My sister Madelyn," she said behind him. Spencer turned, feeling nosy and caught. 
"I've never heard you talk about her," he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets to quell some of his anxiety. "You're not close, I take it."
"We were," she replied with a soft smile. "She died when I was sixteen."
"Oh. I'm so sorry."
Honey shrugged, turning on her heel. She snagged a chair from the table and dragged it into the bathroom, beckoning him to follow. She patted the seat, then ducked down to open the cabinet under the sink. 
The bathroom was small, with a freestanding tub and separate shower on one wall. The shower was encased in glass, hand laid tile against the wall and the floor. She had a vanity mirror in the center of the wall, the toilet on the other side. 
She pulled out a little case and a cape, which made Spencer chuckle. "You do this a lot?"
"The only barber in town is nicknamed 'Wandering Willie,'" Honey replied, frowning. "And it's not because his name is William."
Spencer made a face and plopped down in the seat. Honey made quick work of tossing the cape around his shoulders and tying it. She gently tugged his hair out of the collar and ran a light hand through it. 
"What do you want me to do? Do you have any pictures?"
Even though he had no cell service, Spencer had made a habit of keeping his cell charged and in his pocket. He pulled it out and unlocked it, then went about flipping through old photos of himself. Honey went to the sink while he did so, likely going out of her own way not to be nosy again like she had with his suitcase. 
"I always liked it like this," Spencer muttered as he came across a photo of him and JJ. It was at Rossi's wedding, still a bit long but manageable for him. The shorter it was the more often he needed it cut and he wasn't a fan of strangers touching his hair. 
Honey stepped behind him, looking at the photo over his shoulder. She smiled, "Cuuute. You look a lot different there."
"Yeah, it was a few years ago," he grumbled, feeling much older than he had when the photo was taken. 
Honey tapped his jaw as heat rushed to his cheeks. "I like the beard, though. It's a good look on you."
Spencer bit back a rather foolish grin as she poked through her kit for scissors and a comb. Armed with them and a spray bottle, she shook it a little and smiled, "Ready Freddie?"
"Do your worst."
Honey made quick work of combing his hair. Her deft fingers flitted through his locks, trimming carefully. She was laser focused, those pretty eyes watching every snip of her scissors. 
Spencer couldn't help but watch her through the reflection in the mirror. Her hair hung in ringlets, bouncing as she fluffed up his hair to see where to cut next. She pressed her tongue against the back of her teeth as she focused, lost in what she was doing. 
She moved to stand in front of him, angling his bangs to see where she wanted to make the cut. Her hip leaned against his thigh, her upper body contorting a bit before she changed her mind. She moved to his other side but seemed to run into the same problem. She didn't seem to want to push her luck and touch him. 
Spencer's hands threaded out from underneath the cape before he could really think about it. He palmed her hips and slid her onto his lap, and she put steadying hands on his shoulders to keep herself upright. His thighs spread to hold her in place, safe and upright. 
Honey looked down at him with wide eyes and her lips slightly parted. Her cheeks dusted with reddish pink, looking far too innocent and kissable for his liking. 
"Keep going," Spencer muttered, his voice husky. "Just do what you need to do to be comfortable."
Honey nodded, but there was no mistaking the uptick in her breathing. It wasn't panicked, and Spencer watched as the blotchy red inched its way up her chest. She wasn't wearing a bra, and he easily noticed her nipples begin to pop through the thin fabric of her tank top. 
Her fingers shook a bit as she finished up the front of his hair. She set her scissors down and fluffed it up to eyeball it and make sure it was even. Her nails grazed against his scalp as she did it again, and Spencer couldn't help the way his eyes fluttered shut.
His hands were still on her hips, the pads of his fingers grazing her skin. Thanking God silently for crop tops, Spencer did his best to keep still. Her skin was so warm, and she smelled incredible. All he wanted to do was bury his face in her neck and breathe her in. 
"You don't get touched enough," her voice came softly after a moment. "Do you, Spencer?"
Spencer struggled to peel open his eyes as her fingers dragged down and over his beard. He cocked a brow at her while she inspected the fuzzy mess. "What makes you say that?"
"Nobody enjoys getting a haircut this much," Honey smirked. She adjusted on his lap to reach for the scissors and comb again. Spencer did his best to accommodate her. He didn't want her to get up. She was also the only one he'd ever enjoyed a haircut this much from. 
"More barbers should look like you, then," he replied smoothly. Honey flashed him a playful squint, pressing on the underside of his jaw to start trimming his beard. 
The cool steel of the scissors scraped lightly along his jugular. He swallowed thickly, but willed himself to relax. Her soft hands danced along his jawline, but kept him firmly where she wanted him. 
"I'm a bit nervous about tonight," she confessed quietly, her voice hardly above a whisper. 
Spencer's brows furrowed, "Because of Michelle and Holly?"
Honey shook her head. She wiped the scissors along the cape before going back in, the smooth slices of the metal sending shivers up his spine. 
"I feel like things are weird between us…" she murmured, still focused on what she was doing. She avoided his gaze, and Spencer could see that she was finished, so he put a hand over hers and pulled it away. He didn't want her to stop touching him. 
She moved to get off his lap, but Spencer held her tighter. Her belly twitched under his touch, but instead of fighting him she simply deposited the scissors and comb on the floor before taking the cape off him. Letting it fall to the ground, she grabbed a fluffy brush and began sweeping stray hairs from his neck. 
"I know you weren't drunk when you kissed me, and that you had second thoughts because of Emily and Rose." Honey spoke quietly, keeping her eyes trained on the brush tickling his skin while he kept his on hers. 
"I don't want you to fix me," she declared, strength returning to her voice as she tossed the brush onto the sink. Her hands landed on his shoulders where she sat on her side on his lap. 
Honey moved enough to bring one thigh over his spread legs, straddling him. Her eyes blazed as she watched him, her back arching just enough for him to feel under his heavy hands. Spencer swallowed down a lump in his throat as she gathered up the courage to continue. He knew she had more to say. 
"I'm not just some sad widow looking for a man to come along and take me away from my grief." She was closer now. Charged air crackled between them as she licked her bottom lip and pulled it between her teeth. 
"I'm leaving in a few weeks," Spencer reminded gently. "I don't have time to fix you, anyway."
Honey chuckled and brushed a stray hair behind her ear. She nodded to herself, "I'm well aware…"
She clicked her teeth and gave him those same hooded eyes she had the night before, blush flooding her cheeks. "I also know how boring it can be here without cell phones or the internet. Three weeks is a long time to do nothing, or try to pick up girls in a small town bar who live to gossip… and want more than a hookup."
"It's a lot of effort," Spencer agreed. The air was so thick between them, he couldn't help but wonder where the bomb was going to go off. She was hard to read, but he was beginning to see what she was trying to say. 
Honey's palms smoothed over his chest, her breath picking up. She opened her mouth to speak a few times, seemingly deciding what to say. She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them again they were deliciously dark. 
"I could keep you company," she murmured, her voice dripping with heady need and nerves, like he might say no. "Give you something to do in the meantime, some stress relief."
Spencer adjusted beneath her, and it would be a lie to say that she wasn't getting to him. That damned scent of citrus and saltwater, those shy nervous eyes, and her curvy stunning body on his cock was almost enough to take her right there. 
"What do you get out of it?"
Honey smiled sweetly, which only made him want to shove her against the wall even more. She leaned in, her breasts pressing against his chest as her nose nuzzled against his. Her lips hovered just in front of his as she whispered, "Three weeks of good sex and an escape from all the shit I'm dealing with outside of my apartment.
"You don't like me and I don't like you very much either," she continued, her thumbs rubbing along his collarbones as her gaze flicked to his lips and then back to his eyes. "I think we can find a way to take that out on one another."
Spencer couldn't help the wolfish grin that peeled open across his cheeks. Keeping one hand on her hip, Spencer tangled the other in her hair and pulled her quickly to him. Their lips crashed together, a surprised but excited yelp escaping from Honey's chest. 
She was stubborn to the core, and Spencer found himself battling her for dominance right away. She gripped the lapels of his flannel, pulling him closer. Her strong thighs cradled his lap, and Spencer hooked a few fingers under her knee to tug her flush to his hips. Barely restrained moans echoed between them. His fingers tightened around her thigh, his cock straining in his pants until he couldn't take it anymore with her grinding down on him. 
Spencer lurched forward, jostling her onto his hip. She never let up, her fingers tangling into his hair as she nipped his bottom lip. Her scent consumed him, drowning him in the fresh smell of the ocean and the need emanating from her. He carried Honey out of the bathroom and straight toward the bed in the corner. He wanted her now, and now that he had permission he was going to take her. Her thighs clamped down around his waist, but he managed to untangle her and toss her onto the mattress. 
Her breasts bounced as she landed, and he descended on her in an instant. They clashed together in a flurry of teeth and tongue, pushing and pulling as she shoved his flannel from his shoulders. Spencer tossed it to the ground, his hands palming her tits through her shirt as she went for his belt. 
She managed to get it unlatched just as the phone on the bedside table rang. Spencer pulled back enough to glance over at it, but she just pulled him close and moved onto his neck. 
"Shouldn't you get that?" Spencer asked, his voice embarrassingly breathy. Honey’s insistent nipping along his throat was driving him crazy, but the shrill tone of the landline kept breaking through.
She groaned in irritation, wiggling her hips for more friction, “If it’s important, they’ll call again.”
Spencer was about to take that as a good enough answer when her palms flattened on his chest and suddenly he was pushed onto his back. Honey mounted him in one swift move, gripping his jaw tightly in her fingers and kissing him furiously. She did it like she was winning a fight, and he was more than happy to battle with her.
Gripping her hair, Spencer gave an experimental tug that elicited a beautifully dirty moan. Her hips jerked, grinding down on his clothed length. The phone faded into the background of his mind as it stopped its sharp crying through the apartment. Honey’s tight, smaller body arched with every swipe of his palms along her skin, sweet excited groans bouncing between them as they explored one another.
Her warm skin blazed under his hands as he threaded them under her shirt. Bringing them down, Spencer smoothed them over the curve of her ass and thighs, pulling her flush to him once more. The way her hips swirled over his dick drove him wild, the thought of himself inside her doing the same thing nearly made him burst in his pants.
Spencer sat her up, his palm spreading wide along her spine. Each breathy exhale and sigh made his vision blur, but he wanted to see her. All of her. He wanted to watch as she fell apart for him, piece by piece.
Honey didn’t fight him as he ran his fingers under her tiny tank top. She worked with him, arching her back and lifting her arms as he pulled it up. Her breasts bounced free from the thin fabric as she threw the tanktop to the ground. Spencer went straight for them, one hand palming her perfect tit as his lips went straight for the other nipple. 
She gasped as his teeth grazed the sensitive flesh, her hips grinding down on him. Swirling around with his tongue, he pinched her other breast, swiping a soft thumb over as a weak apology before doing it again.
“Fuck,” she groaned, her hips working for some relief through her shorts. He was painfully hard, wanting nothing more than to toss her to the ground and fuck her hard with little prep, but he also wanted to savor it. 
Honey’s fingers tangled tightly in Spencer’s hair, clutching him tightly to her chest as she moaned wantonly. She whimpered, low and needy, "Spencer, please, fuck!"
"Take off your pants," he commanded as he pulled off her with a soft pop. 
Honey went for her button when the phone rang again. She sighed, her chest patched red and blotchy as she leaned over him to snatch it from the nightstand. 
"No, no, come on," he begged pitifully as she pushed him into the mattress. She sat on top of him, her hand on his chest as she looked at the screen. She panted, her chest heaving. She was fucking stunning. 
"Shut up," she told him playfully, grinding down on him for good measure. Spencer set his twitchy hands on her thighs, squeezing and bucking lightly to keep some of the friction going. Honey held the phone up to her ear, “Thunderbird Inn. How can I help you?”
Honey’s dark eyes fixated on him, her head cocking to the side, “Oh, hey, Emily.”
Feeling suddenly caught, Spencer’s eyes went wide, but then he squinted at her as she listened to the other end. She waved a hand in front of her face and shook her head, “I’m fine, really. I just got back from a run.”
Spencer was growing restless, so he trailed his fingers up lightly. Brushing them along her exposed skin, he delighted in the way she shivered and goosebumps appeared as she spoke to Emily. Her chest puffed out, eyes fluttering shut. She was truly beautiful, strong and unyielding like a port in a storm. 
As he palmed her breast, she covered his hand with hers, holding him in place. Her eyes had a devilish glint as she watched him caress her body. His other palm smoothed up her side, tickling along her collarbone before he decided to experiment and see what she liked. Spencer spread his fingers over the column of her throat, getting up on one elbow to brace himself. 
She watched him through those hooded eyes, lashes fluttering as she struggled to stay focused on the phone call. His hand flattened over her windpipe, tightening just enough to see her cheeks flush bright red, then he let go, opting instead to trail his fingers down her chest as though he didn’t know what he’d done. But he knew now what he wanted to… just how open she was to other things.
“How about this?” Honey gulped, taking a deep breath. “I’ll call his room to see if he’s there and then patch you through? I’ve got to put you on hold, though.”
Spencer shook his head, but she just squinted down at him. “Sounds good. Give me a few minutes.”
Honey pressed a button on the phone and pointed out toward the window, “I’ve gotta get ready for tonight, and you need to talk to your sister.”
“She’s not my sister,” Spencer grumbled. He fell flat on his back, mourning the loss of his boner and soon to be release. Spencer got up on his elbows and flashed her a cheeky grin, “I’ll be quick.”
Honey shook her head, “Uh-uhn. You’re gonna fuck me the way I deserve, and to do that we need a bit more time.”
She rolled off him, plopping down on the mattress beside Spencer. Her body heat blazed against him, and he let out a pained breath as he eyed her breasts. Playfully, he reached out and patted one with the flats of his fingers, making her laugh. He couldn’t help but smile back, chuckling a bit.
“Fuck you the way you deserve?” he murmured with a furrowed brow and a grin. 
Honey nodded. “I didn’t stutter.”
Spencer laughed as he got up. He made sure to lean down and give her nipple one last light bite before he rose from the bed, and she made a delightful little cry at the feeling. He loomed over her as he adjusted himself in his pants, and she just lounged half naked on the bed and smirked up at him.
“See you later,” he muttered. Spencer leaned over the mattress and hooked his fingers under her knees, jerking her forward until she was nose to nose with him. “Wear something pretty, yeah?”
Honey smiled, and in a show of silliness he rarely got to see from her, she licked the tip of his nose and giggled. “Something with easy access?”
Spencer growled a bit and nodded, “I don’t have a lot of patience.” 
Her pupils dilated in a millisecond, her kiss-bitten lip quivering. Spencer gripped her jaw tightly and gave her a rough kiss, relishing in the desperate little moan that made its way to his lips. He pulled away and turned on his heel without looking back, and by the soft exhale behind him he was feeling pretty proud of himself. 
Maybe the next three weeks wouldn't be so bad after all. 
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I was struggling to keep myself together. My whole body was a livewire after Spencer came to my apartment for his haircut. I couldn't stop thinking about his hands on my body, or his tongue on my chest. Light bruises littered my neck and all I wanted to do was press on them to feel the sting. 
Oh, if he fucked the way he kissed… I was about to be in big trouble. I needed the release, to fall into something that wasn’t my own pool of misery and let go. His heavy hands on me were the only real thing keeping me grounded the last few days. All I wanted was to touch him again and hear him make those deep guttural groans again. I have so much work to do on myself and my life, and this will be the one guilty pleasure I’ll have for a long while.
In reality it had only been a little over a month since I'd slept with Rico, but it felt like years after making out with Spencer. I was antsy, struggling not to think about just how toe curling it could have been if the phone didn't ring. Idly, I wondered what Emily wanted to speak with him so badly about, but ultimately decided it wasn’t my business.
I wasn't one for makeup, so I just opted to put some on my neck and keep my natural hair down and put on a sundress and some espadrilles. It was yellow with pink and orange flowers, landing just above my knees. I snagged a shawl in case the heat died down, and knowing we were going to a restaurant on the water that was more than likely. 
I stood before my mirror, fidgeting and feeling suddenly quite self conscious. I haven't been on a date of any kind in almost ten years, or had to worry if I looked good enough for one. It hit me how ridiculous I was being, worried if Spencer would like the way I looked when the first time he kissed me I was covered in sand and sweat. The man obviously wasn't picky. 
Michelle asked me to drive separately in case she and Holly wanted to spend some time alone together, so I grabbed the keys to my beat up Volkswagen bus and my purse, then made my way down stairs. 
Spencer waited outside my door, hands stuffed into his pockets as he leaned against the doorframe. He stood up straight as he spotted me, breaking out into a slow smile. 
"Holy shit," he breathed, his eyes raking me up and down hungrily. His hand reached out to touch the bright patterned skirt. "You look amazing."
"Thank you," I blushed like a fool. I waved to his outfit with a smile, "You clean up nice, Spencer."
He wore a simple buttoned up dark shirt with a red cardigan over it and khaki pants. His sleeve was bunched up under his watch, his freshly cut hair curled nicely with the product I'd put in it. He flashed me a crooked grin as he let go of my dress. 
Holding out his elbow for me, he leaned down and murmured even though we were the only two in the hallway, "You ready?"
I took a deep breath before threading my arm in his, "As I'll ever be."
Tucci's was about a forty minute drive down the coast. Spencer lounged in the passenger seat as I drove. We didn't talk much, but his hand rested heavily on my thigh the whole drive. I didn't push him away, and I didn't want to. Instead, I reveled in his heat and his thumb rubbing soft circles into my skin. 
The breeze danced through the windows, the warm summer evening turning the sky orange and dusty. We passed town after town on the lonesome secluded highway, until we were surrounded by trees and billboards. The fluorescent lights illuminated them in the coming darkness, and I didn't even realize I was speaking until I pointed at one. 
"Do you think that God reads the billboards?" I asked quietly, not even sure where it was coming from. 
Spencer glanced over my way and shrugged, "If He did, they probably wouldn't be there."
I wasn’t sure why, but I liked his answer. It fit him and the cynicism that permeated from his pores. Deciding to leave it at that, we instead flew down the highway to our forced get together with Holly and Michelle.
Tucci’s was busy for a Friday night at ten, people waiting in line outside. We spotted Holly and Michelle in the parking lot, with Holly standing a respectable distance away from her as Spencer followed closely behind me. 
Holly had made a reservation, so we were seated soon enough, earning a few glares from the walk-ins. Surprisingly enough, Spencer acted the gentleman even though I knew he had no interest in this date or me romantically. He held doors open for me, and pulled out my chair. When the wine came, he insisted on pouring it for me as well. 
I was never one to be told what to do, or taken care of, but I didn't mind this one bit. It was surprisingly…nice to not have to do anything myself. My nerves were on fire being in this setting anyways, in a restaurant on a dock, the ocean just outside the window we were seated by. It was nice not to have to make any decisions at the moment. 
My stomach swirled with nausea that made me take breaks from the conversation to nervously sip from my glass. Luckily, with Holly and Michelle fawning over one another it took a lot of pressure off Spencer and myself, and we mostly let them do the talking. There were so many people packed in the tiny restaurant. It was intimately lit with candles and red drapery along the walls. Even though the windows were open, welcoming a slight breeze, I found myself sweating by the time dinner was finished. 
This was how I was feeling when I thought I was pregnant, and the doctor told me it was just nerves. After multiple negative tests, I finally believed him, but sitting there trying to keep myself upright I cursed his diagnosis of anxiety and stress. 
I needed to get my shit together. A panic attack was the last thing I needed. 
The dock swayed with the water, and I rubbed a sweaty palm over the back of my neck to ease away some of my nausea. Spencer watched me curiously in between speaking with Holly and Michelle, who seemed to be having a good time and not noticing my mini freak out in a crowded place. 
There were couples all over, leaning over white dropped tables in beautiful clothes. They spoke in hushed tones, even Holly and Michelle, clasping hands on top. Champagne flutes glittered under the lights, the occasional clinking of silverware on ceramic accenting the gentle music playing. 
I missed Ernie… I needed him here, with me. I shouldn't be here. He should be here. He was the one everybody loved, and I was just the outsider who died with him that night, her body returning to shore. 
I ran a shaky hand through my hair, trying to console my body. It didn't want to cooperate, and as sweaty as I was, I pulled my shawl tighter over my shoulders while goosebumps broke out on my skin. Sucking in a wavering breath, I closed my eyes for a moment before letting it go.
A hand on my knee got my attention, and I glanced up to see Spencer pushed forward in his seat across from me, obviously the one touching me. His brows furrowed and he squeezed me gently, cocking his head to the side. 
I stared at him like a deer in the headlights, not sure of what to do. My legs begged me to launch from the table and run all the way back to Thunderbird. I didn't want to stop until I hit the bay and dove underneath the waves. 
"I could use some air," Spencer seemed to decide for me. He stood and folded his napkin before setting it on the table, then held out his hand for me. "Care to join?"
I stared at it dumbly until he rounded the table, his palm up for me to take. Spencer flashed Holly and Michelle a smile, "I don't know this place very well. I don't want to get lost."
My hand moved on autopilot, clasping his tightly. Spencer pulled me to my feet before leading me out of the restaurant, his fingers laced in mine. His gait never slowed, laser focused on the exit as he weaved through the traffic of people coming inside. 
The restaurant windows faced the water, but the entrance faced the parking lot with the dock wrapping around to the back. The walkway to the dock lay awash in fairy lights strung up between posts. The sun had dipped down behind the clouds, and now the small twinkling bulbs lit the way to the water. In my haze, I just let him lead me, trying and failing to keep my breathing under control. 
A hand carved bench sat at the end of the dock. Boats floated in the distance, easing through the water. The waves crested and fell in a natural time, the crash followed by the hushing spread of the water hitting the surface. Spencer guided me to the bench and sat me down. Kneeling in front of me as I watched through glassy, tear filled eyes, he untied my espadrilles and set them to the side. I didn't realize how much I was shaking until he took one of my feet and pressed his thumb into the arch and my body relaxed. 
"Just breathe," he murmured, watching me closely. His eyes held sympathy for me, but no pity. Tears streamed down my cheeks, grief I hadn't expected pouring through, but I refused to let myself completely fall apart. 
I clutched the shawl tightly around my shoulders. I leaned against the cool wood and closed my eyes, listening to the ocean and her beauty. The soft rocking of the dock was surprisingly a welcome feeling, lulling me into a safe place I hadn't been to in a long time. 
I thought of Isle of Honey, of Ernie. Long nights spent floating on top of the water, legs tangled together on the deck of the old schooner. We'd breathe in the scent of sex and the ocean, our hearts thumping in time together. I was in my safe place, with my safe person, just existing among the wild ferality of the sea. 
"I'm sorry," I whispered after a while. Spencer had long since moved onto my other foot, massaging tension gently from my body. I wiped at my cheek and chuckled bitterly, "I'm sure this is really sexy."
All I truly wanted from Spencer was an escape, a few moments to let go and forget about everything going on. I wanted my uncertainty to fade into the background, for my guilt to calm to a simmer when it constantly roared at a boil. 
Spencer made a face and set my foot gently on the dock. He eased himself on the bench next to me, his thigh touching mine, but he didn't move to hold me. I appreciated it. 
"Some guys are into that, you know?" he replied cheekily, giving me a wink and a smile. 
I sniffled through my laugh and shook my head, "So this is your turn on?"
Spencer huffed a bit, looking down at his hands. His voice was low and a bit sad. "That kinda thing takes a lot of time and trust. I don't find that much on the road."
I nodded. That trust was something I built with Ernie, but he never had the ability to be truly rough with me, which I had been fine with. Rico, on the other hand, was more interested in a quick barrel toward both our releases, and I didn't have the mental capacity to do much else. They had both been wonderful and attentive, and I would always be grateful for those experiences. 
I nudged Spencer with an elbow, offering a weak smile through my swollen cheeks and likely red face. "I'm a big fan of the color system, and my safeword is 'applejack.'"
Spencer chuckled. His arm wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me close but not too tight. He was something to lean against during the storm in my heart, and I found myself snuggling into his side and pressing my palm to his chest. 
Cinnamon and bergamot flooded through my nostrils, accented by the salt of the sea as we sat there. A few errant passersby came down the dock, saw us, and quickly turned around. We paid them no mind, just listening to the waves and enjoying the quiet. 
"I haven't been on a date in ten years," I found myself saying. The ocean swallowed my words and took them out to the distance, but not before Spencer heard them. He pressed his cheek to the top of my head. "I know this wasn't really a date but… I don't know why it hit me so hard."
"Memories are like freight trains, Honey," he murmured. I felt him clear his throat, the soft rumble under my ear through his shirt. His fingers tightened around my arm. "You either know when they're coming on the schedule or you don't notice until the whistle blows behind you. Sometimes the whistle doesn't even blow, and it hits you."
I thought about that for a moment. He was right, and a part of me hated this broken man for knowing the broken part of me so well with so little effort. I wanted to hit him and yell and scream, but the broken part of me knew that was exactly what the broken part of him wanted to do too.
"That's the most depressing shit I've ever heard," I said instead. 
The laugh that bubbled from his chest made me smile before it even broke the surface. Spencer guided a hand over my hair and kissed the top of my head as he chuckled to himself. 
"Yeah, well, it's all I've got," he said as he pulled away. 
Spencer leaned back on the bench, legs splayed and his arms laced over the edge. The fingers of one hand ran light lines up and down my shoulder. It only made my body relax more, melting into his side and reveling in the comfort. 
Boat horns sounded in the distance, calling out to other ships in the night. The spotlight from a lighthouse down the coast cut through the darkness, pointing out toward the black. It was guiding people home, back to the land. 
Sitting there, I realized I didn't want to be on the land anymore. Thunderbird would always be the place that took me in and became my home. For far too long I'd treated it like a tomb, my final resting place after a lifetime of mistreatment and uncertainty. 
When I lost Ernie, I stopped moving forward. The lighthouse in the bay became my siren beacon, my way of screaming that I was the safe place now. I would keep everyone safe, I would guide them home. They could come to me for anything they needed, and I would provide. 
Sitting then in the arms of a stranger who'd defended me and saved me, and I'd saved him, it hit me. I wasn't the port in the storm. I wasn't the place to go to escape the monsoon, the hurricane. 
I was the eye of the storm. The place where all this started was with myself, and how I reacted to the world around me. I let myself loose from my tiny fishing town in Maine and descended hurricane Honey upon Thunderbird. I was a wild animal full of rage and regret, and they calmed me to a raindrop. I'd always be grateful to them for that. 
The hurricane was back, and after ten years she wanted to rage again. I needed to find a middle ground. I needed to become the rain after the drought, not devastation or starvation. 
I didn't have to leave Thunderbird forever. I'd spent ten years fixing up our old schooner, repairing the damage caused by the storm that ruined my life. It was almost finished, and in a way, so was I. I could do what Ernie and I always dreamed of, and sail off toward that horizon in hopes of swallowing the sun. Then, I could follow the lighthouse back home. 
"Hey," I started slowly, easing my way out from under Spencer's arm. He looked down upon me gently, waiting for my direction. "You wanna get out of here?"
Spencer smiled. "Lead the way."
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Smurph's Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Notes: Oh, I'm so excited for the sex next chapter... You have no idea.
Also, have you guy listened to any of the songs that these chapters are inspired by? Which one is your favorite?
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@thedancingcostumeyoungadult @muffin-cup @simplyparker @spencerreidsmommy @hotchandspencearedilfs @gspenc @kbakery @nomajdetective @givemeth @hoshihiime @halloween-is-my-nationality @reidselle @thisiscalmanditsdoctorreid @dreatine @thebloomingeagle @fortheloveofwonderland @theforgottenwinter @parkerreidnorth @reidselle @randomhoex @scargarcia-magshotchner @stitchwrites @pygmygoat-bicyclehelmet @cle13 @aysixdy @elhotchner @directioner5life @elhotchner @loveeee2134 @preciousbabypeter @la-stuffs @stories-you-wont-hear @hotchlover @fortheloveofwonderland @lokiandhisdagger @bellanutellababyyy @dark-night-sky-99 @straightforbuckybutgayfornatasha @maltamurdock @charelletjee @kansas-reid @zephyrmonkey @spencer-reid-wonderland @spencersprettyslut @im-sure-its-fine @tvdstelenaforever @teddylupintonks  @lilibet261 @kneelforloki @dirtytissuebox @almostgenerallyalways @whovian378 @cl0udyqu33n @thegettingbyp2 @averagestudent03 @the-sun-died-out @squishycalumxo @sebastiansstanswhore 
@louderfortheback @pandabiiissh @calebye
@dottirose @lfaewrites @padsfirewhisky @wheels-upin-thirty @f-me-reid @justanothercmblog @academiareid @moyo5653 @comfybabie
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her-storybooks · 2 years
Text
Anemone for Anticipation - Aaron Hotchner and Y/N
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Summary: Prompt: A time when they received flowers. Or when Y/N comes to work with a surprise on her desk. Author's Notes: The fact that this was created to celebrate 700 followers and now we're approaching 800 is insane! I LOVE you all! <3
(See the end of the work for more notes.)
Y/N was looking down at her phone when she heard the ping of the elevator doors. She was about to step forward and stride towards her desk when she saw the three pairs of shoes blocking her path. Two pairs of sensible black shoes and one pair of pink polka dot heels. Y/N followed the bodies up to see three faces staring back at her, smiles bright and overly stretched.
“Hey guys,” Y/N welcomed, elongating her vowels in suspicion. They continued to stare back at her with unwavering grins. “What’s up?” Penelope squealed excitingly, grabbing Y/N’s arm, and pulling her out of the elevator. JJ and Emily wrapped their arms into the tangle and began guiding her into the BAU bullpen. “Guys! What’s going on?” she shrieked as the women giggled and scuffled her in different directions.
“We could ask you the same thing!” JJ laughed as they finally stopped in front of Y/N’s desk. Y/N looked down at her desk and was greeted with an explosion of red, white, pink, and green. The roses were as deep and as red as the blush blooming across Y/N’s cheeks. The roses were surrounded with sprigs of eucalyptus leaves, dusky anemone flowers, and pure white amaryllis petals.
“Oh,” Y/N gushed brightly, forcing herself not to look up at the office at the top of the stairs.
“Open the card! Open the card! Open the card!” Garcia chanted repeatedly.
“You mean you haven’t already read it?” Y/N teased, taking the envelope from the Prentis.
“We couldn’t. The envelope is sealed.” Prentis rolled her eyes.
Y/N lifted from the envelope a beautiful small card with a photograph of a warm sunset. With nervous shaking hands, she opened the card and read the typed words.
“Read it! Read it! Read it!” Penelope sang again. Y/N chuckled before clearing her throat.
“Roses for romance. Anemone for anticipation of what is to come. Amaryllis for your splendid beauty. All encased in eucalyptus to protect you and your strength. Stay safe. – you know who. xxx” The women all cooed, Penelope waving her hands excitedly.
“Okay spill! Who is this guy?” JJ begged. Y/N laughed and shook her head.
“Nope! I’m not jinxing it.” Y/N smirked, gently smelling the roses. "It's still pretty new." She lifted and moved the vase to the side of her desk, giving herself access to her computer.
“Please! Please!” they continued to beg. Y/N continued to ignore them, shaking her head and logging on to her computer. After a few minutes of ignoring them, they finally grew tired and walked away.
Giggling to herself, Y/N heard another ping of technology. The email alert rang happily in her ears.
From: a_hotchner
To: Y/N/_Y/L/N
Subject: Wellbeing Meeting Request.
Message: Good Morning, Agent Y/L/N. I will be scheduling annual well-being meetings this week in line with the new FBI approach to support their agents in the field. Please confirm your attendance to the below meeting schedule.
Today at 2:30 pm.
The seconds after pressing ‘confirm’ ticked by longer and slower than Y/N had ever experienced. Y/N tried to busy her mind with filling in paperwork and fighting off the imposing questions about her secret admirer. The excitement for her 2:30 meeting was growing until Prentis left Hotch’s office reassuring everyone that the wellbeing meetings were just casual chats – nothing to worry about. So maybe Aaron’s e-mail wasn’t an excuse to get her alone in his office for a quick flutter of romance. The seconds weren’t as painful now Y/N wasn’t sitting in anticipation. But still, the sweet scent of petals and the light pink brightening up her desk was a pleasant lift to the usual anti-climax of the BAU after a big case. Eventually, a ping came from her computer, warning her that she had a meeting in 10 minutes. Y/N got to her feet and quickly made her way to the kitchen, mixing two cups of coffee before heading to Aaron’s office. She knocked on the door slowly, making sure not to spill the contents of the mugs in her hands.
“Come in,” she pushed open the door, using her foot to close it behind her.
“Agent Hotchner,” Y/N greeted casually and set their mugs on his desk. “Coffee, cream, one sugar.”
“Thank you,” he smiled putting his pen down. “What did I do to deserve this?”
“Well…” Y/N reached into her pocket and pulled out the card that came with her flowers earlier in the day. “For your splendid beauty. All encased in eucalyptus to protect you and your strength…” her fingertips playfully tapped the card, her eyebrows waggling smugly.
“Who sent you that?” Y/N's smile dropped. Hotch met her eyes emotionlessly for a few seconds before breaking out into a cheeky smile.
“You suck!” Y/N chuckled, pretending to throw the card at him.
“I’m sorry.” He chuckled, getting up from his seat and walking around the table to meet her. He snaked his arms around her waist, pulling her close and taking advantage of the closed door and blinds. Y/N batted his chest with her palm playfully before placing her arms around his neck. “Did you like the flowers?”
“I loved them.” She beamed, pressing her lips to his firmly. She hummed happily and melted further into his embrace. “A bit risky though! You know everyone’s been hounding me about my new secret admirer all morning.”
“What did you tell them?”
“That I had so many potential suitors I just couldn’t be sure.” Hotch reached down and squeezed the skin below Y/N’s left butt cheek, making her squeak and jump. “Okay, now I’m sorry.”
“I reckon we’re even now.” He pressed another kiss to her lips and pulled her closer. “You ready for our wellbeing check-in meeting?”
“Oh, you were serious about that? I thought this was just an excuse for a steamy make-out session in your office.” Her hands began wandering up and down his back, stroking and caressing his shoulder muscles.
“Don’t tempt me.” He groaned, lulling his head into her neck. “But if we don’t get the paperwork done Strauss will be on my back for months.”
“Okay,” Y/N sighed, running her hands through his hair, matching his frustrated tone. “But afterward... we can have a steamy make-out session on your desk?” Aaron laughed, lifting his head and kissing her tenderly again.
“Deal.”
Notes: Okay, I’ve got to ask my American friends. The whole cream in the coffee thing. What’s wrong with milk? Surely the cream makes it too sweet and is bad for your cholesterol? Just a thought from your British writing pal :)
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