Clémence

Clémence She/her editing account :@gyllord

[gyllord]

Masterlist

Started : 09/02/2020, updated : 05/11/2023

Criminal Minds:

Luke Alvez:

Your life just get started

“Who’s scared now ?”

DC:

Roman Sionis:

Our mission : Part 1

Part 2

Marvel:

Bucky Barnes:

One more kiss 

Loki Series :

Brad Wolfe / Hunter X-5 :

Hunter X-5 / Brad Wolfe Headcanons 

None of this is real : Part 1 Part 2

X-men:

a little conversation with the x-men : text chat 1

Stranger Things :

Eddie Munson :

Not a complaint

[undoubtedly-avia]

That’s it, that’s the whole video 😝

Also made these photos, feel free to steal (no credits needed)

[gyllord]

Perfect

[gyllord]

Je fête mes 10 ans sur Tumblr 🥳

[toxicrelief]

How it feels to read a X reader fic with a character you don’t usually read about and the author mentions your fav

[catbox730]

The Thunderbolts a in a nutshell:

(Turn on the volume and it’s really loud so you have been warned)

[em1i2a3]

i don’t know if you take requests but some yearning or very obvious bob having a crush on reader… like full on fluff and everyone makes fun of him cause he’s just that obvious

Plainclothes Man

Pairing: Bob/Robert Reynolds/Sentry x Avengers!Fem!Reader

Summary: Everyone at the compound knows Bob has a massive crush on you–except you.

Warnings: Semi-Spoiler for Thunderbolts because of Bob’s involvement but other than that…None :)

Author's Note: Hey y’all! I do take requests! Just to make that clear! Nothing is really off limits! :) I love this idea! So I thought I would start with it. I kind of rushed it a bit because I have so many ideas going at once for Bob right now, but I wanted to please y’all so hopefully it’s good :)

Word Count: 1,775

Bob was a neon sign of romantic agony.

Everyone could see it.

He was about as subtle as a firework in a library when it came to you, and everyone–everyone but you–knew that he had very obvious feelings for you.

At first, it was just the little things. He would hold the door open for you, make your coffee in the morning, and sometimes he would walk you to your training sessions carrying all your weapons and gear. God forbid you mentioned needing help with something too, because it was like he teleported into the room instantly just to be your knight in shining armor.

It would’ve been sweet–it was sweet–except for the fact that he looked like he was going to pass out every time you smiled at him, or the fact that the first time you touched him he felt like he was having a heart attack.

Not only that, but at the Thunderbolts compound, privacy was a myth. Everyone noticed the way he put you first, and nobody had the emotional maturity to leave it alone, especially during down times when everyone was home with no missions or jobs to run off to.

Idle hands made for cruel commentary.

They started small. Little side-eyes, snorts, giggles, the occasional cough-covered ‘lover boy’ muttered under someone’s breath when Bob stood the moment you entered a room, like he was always on guard.

Then it escalated.

Yelena turned it into a sport, narrating his reactions like a nature documentary when you weren’t present.

”And here we see Bob Reynolds in his natural habitat–blushing violently, hands wringing in his lap, trying not to pass out because Y/N said his name. Observe how he avoids eye contact while trying to remember how to function.” This would make him even more flustered, and only add to his embarrassment of wearing his feelings on his sleeve.

“Please stop,” He would say, with his face on fire.

Ava took to mimicking Bob’s dreamy stares behind your back when the both of you would talk to one another, making sure there was grotesque exaggeration to every detail. How his eyes would widen, and his lips would part, oftentimes she would clutch her chest dramatically and sway from side to side, which only made his cheeks go a bright red as he was talking to you.

Even Alexei, who should’ve had better things to do, began to offer unsolicited advice.

”You must confess, Bob. Women like confidence. You must say, ‘I am man of strength and softness, let us be passionate together!’” Bob nearly choked on the air he breathed, blinking up at Alexei, who was nodding like he had just offered the secret to eternal happiness, and not a line from a Soviet soap opera.

”I…I’m not saying that,” Bob stammered, voice thin with embarrassment.

“Why not?” Alexei boomed, looking over at Walker and Yelena as if they were going to back him up, “You are soft man! Strong man! Women love this contradiction!” Walker sipped his protein shake without looking up from his phone.

”Honestly Bob…It’s not the worst idea he’s had.” Bob looked like someone had just pulled the emergency brake on his nervous system. He was stunned by the agreement the idea was receiving, then he rubbed his hands over his face, like he could scrub away the humiliation clinging to his skin.

”I can’t say that…I’ll die in the middle of it.” Bob muttered, his hands muffling his voice, before hearing a little chuckle coming from Yelena.

”You’re like watching a candle melt under a heat lamp…Take it easy on yourself Bob.” She said, leaning back in her chair.

”Seriously,” Ava added, leaning against the counter with a yogurt in her hand, “ Just say something. Anything at this point will be better than nothing. And please hurry up, because you’re starting to give us secondhand embarrassment with this mating dance you’re doing.” Bob was about to say something then the door creaked open, causing him to pause mid conversation.

Bucky walked in with a towel draped around his neck, drenched in sweat from the endurance run he had done on the treadmill just moments ago, with a look of vague concern on his face.

”What’s with all the noise? I heard Alexei yelling about passion through the vents.” He said, glancing over at everyone who was crowded in the kitchen.

”We’re trying to get Bob to confess his undying love for Y/N.” Yelena replied, watching as Bucky looked over at Bob who was hunched over the kitchen island and flushing a scarlet red.

”Oh,” He said, like it suddenly made perfect sense, “…Wait, he still hasn’t said anything?” He added, confused.

“Nope,” Walker responded, still scrolling through his phone, not bothering to look up, “Somehow he’s been able to keep the verbal diarrhea to a minimum with her.”

“Barely. Last week she complimented him on how strong he was for carrying six bags of groceries for her in one go and he stammered over a thank you for two whole minutes.” Bucky let out a little laugh.

”Pretty sure you’re describing a stroke, not a crush/“ He started, wiping his face off with his towel, “What exactly are you waiting for, Bob? A written invitation from the president or something?” Before Bob even had a chance to answer, the door creaked open again, and you appeared.

You were still damp from the shower you had taken a few minutes ago, with your hair pinned back, and your skin still flushed from the heat of the water. You had on a soft, oversized t-shirt and…Bob’s sweatpants. He had given them to you last week without prompt, saying that you would be warmer in them, and since then, you managed to forget to give them back–whether it was on purpose or by accident, nobody really knew for sure.

Yelena had caught it immediately though.

”Wow…Y/N, those are some nice sweatpants, where’d you get them from?” She drawled, grinning like a cat that had just spotted a mouse. You glanced down at them and pointed.

”These? They’re Bob’s actually, so I have no clue where they’re from, but they’re super comfy.” Bob made a noise that could only be described as a choked squeak, as everyone glanced over at him in their own small ways. Yelena grinned.

”Oh, Bob’s, huh?” You nodded cheerfully, completely missing the way Bob’s soul was visibly leaving his body.

“Yeah, I was freezing after that mission last week and he just gave them to me. I forgot to return them, but they’re just too good to give up.” You replied, looking down at them fondly, like they were a luxury item of sorts, before adjusting the waistband a little bit, “Hope you’re okay if I keep them a little longer before giving them back to you.” You added, with a little smirk.

Bob–already pink from neck to ears–opened his mouth but only managed a soft, and cracked, “Yeah…Yeah totally fine.”

You smiled at him–kind, and warm, and totally unaware of how he was going to spontaneously combust in a few moments if you didn’t stop looking at him the way you always did, with this admiration and care.

Yelena nudged Ava as you turned to the pantry to grab your tote bag.

”I was about to actually go on a grocery run, I figured it’s a good time to stock up for movie night tomorrow…Bob, do you wanna come?”

He lifted his head almost immediately, like he wasn’t sure if he’d heard you correctly–or like he was still rebooting from the sight of you wearing his sweatpants again and saying you might want to keep them longer.

You looked at him with your eyebrows raised, and everyone else looked at him like a firing squad waiting to shoot.

”I-uh…Grocery run?” Yelena pressed her lips together to hold back a grin, before glancing over at Bucky who was shaking his head, then Walker glanced up from his phone, staring at him with a look that basically screamed ‘don’t you dare blow this.’

“Yeah, “ You said with a casual smile, “I was actually going to go because they finally restocked those kettle chips you like, and that weird sparkling iced tea…The lemon honey one. But I thought I’d just kill two birds with one stone and just take the whole movie night snack order now and get it over with…Y’know what I mean?” Bob felt like his entire chest was going to cave in under your words. The fact you remembered such little details about him killed him, because it gave him those butterflies in his stomach–the ones that gave him hope. Dangerous, reckless hope.

”He’ll go.” Yelena replied, “He’s not doing anything anyways, he’s super available right now, aren’t you Bob?” All eyes turned to him.

“I–uh…”

“He lives for those late night grocery runs,” Ava chimed in, “You’ve made his week.” Bucky crossed his arms, clearly entertained.

”Oh yeah, didn’t you say twenty minutes ago that your dream night would be picking out snacks with a girl you–respect deeply as a teammate?” He piled on, causing Bob to swallow loudly.

“Well that’s perfect then! I’ll meet you in the garage in five minutes!” You said brightly, giving him one last smile that probably shaved three years off his life expectancy before you turned and strolled out of the kitchen, with your tote bag bouncing against your hip. Everyone waited until the front door clicked to interrupt the silence.

”Oh Jesus.” Bob said, sinking his face into his hands, hearing Yelena clap like a coach at halftime.

”Alright, let’s lock in–because if you mess this up, Bob, you’re probably never getting another invite like that again.” Ava pointed her spoon at him like a judge handing down a sentence, before saying.

”And it’s the first time she’s asked you to come with her somewhere instead of you tripping over your shoelaces to offer a hand, so that’s a good sign.”

“Yeah,” Bucky added dryly, “So don’t think yourself into a grave for the love of god, because you’ve done it all backwards. She’s supposed to be wearing your clothes when you’re dating, not before.” Bob groaned louder.

“I think I’m gonna throw up.”

[k1tk4ttt]

[faeriekit]

I ship this ship because:

I have eyes

I can see

I am the smartest person in the room

I receive divine revelations about them in the dead of night, alone in my chambers

[mikathemonster]

“under my skin”

author’s note: okay, SO. y’all seem to be eating these fics up ravenously, so here I am to supply food to the starving wolves. eat up, baby! I’m so nervous since this is my longest fic yet, but here’s some fun and sexy (slight) enemies to lovers smut to spice up the fluff I’ve been writing lately. don’t say I never did anything for you guys. happy holidays, happy new year, and happy reading :)

Pairing: Kíli / Gender-neutral Human Reader

Word Count: 14,873

summary: forced to be allies for the sake of preventing war, kíli could do nothing but find his way under your skin…

content warnings: Post BOTFA, Everyone Lives! AU, Enemies to lovers, minor injuries (but ouch man they hurt), a poorly written fight scene (im so sorry in advance), possible OOC Dwalin (let me know what y’all think), blood, mentions of violence (it’s LOTR, y’all), smut, fingering, handjob, unprotected sex, oral (male receiving), praise, cursing

DO NOT REPOST OR COPY. MINORS/AGLESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT.

Keep reading

[scapingthebottomofthebarrel]

I Think I’m Gonna Be Sick (Kili x GN!Reader)

You sit quietly at the table trying to take in all the information. “Why do I have to go?” You ask sounding more scared than you’d like. Thraduils face remains unreadable so you look over at Legolas for answers.

“It’s time for you to go find your roots. It’s the perfect time. It’s a new start for everyone .” He explains with a sad smile. Legolas had found you in the forests of Greenwood when you were a baby and had demanded that Thranduil let you stay. How he did that is beyond you as you are very obviously a dwarf, but he did and you had grown up in the palace with Legolas as your father figure. That is what had led up to this current moment. Thranduil had just informed you that the king of the newly reclaimed kingdom of Erebor had agreed to let you come live there and that his sister would be coming to bring you to your new home in a month. You aren’t sure what to say. “You know that I love you more than anything. It’s because I do that this has been agreed upon. You are a dwarf and you deserve a chance to learn about your people.”

“They aren’t my people! You are! I’ve never known another dwarf. All I know is Greenwood and Rivendale and Lothlorien! I am home!” You cry looking desperately between Legolas and Thranduil

“This is your home and always will be, but you know that you need this. You can feel it in your bones.” Thranduil finally says and you hate that he’s right.

“Think of it as being a diplomat. You can forge a better relationship between the elves and the dwarves. You can always come home. Don’t ever doubt that. I just want you to try.” Legolas looks heartbroken but he is firm in his words. You let out a shaky breath and nod.

“She’s coming in a month?” You ask. They both nod and wait expectantly for your response.

“I’ll try. For Greenwood.” You say after some more thought. Legolas hugs you tightly. You struggle to come to terms with what your life will be in a month, but you know you need to try. Maybe this will settle that restless part of yourself. “I’ll need to start studying khuzdul. I don’t think elvish will do me much good there.”

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

“Are you ready?” Legolas asks softly.

“As I’ll ever be.” You sigh watching as the last trunk is carried out of your room. Legolas rushes forward and hugs you tightly.

“You’ll always have a home here, but please try your best.” He whispers. You stifly nod as you wrap your arms around him. After a moment he pulls back and leads you out of your room and to the throne room. As the doors slowly open you see a woman about your height looking around impatiently.

“Lady Dis please understand I’m just as ready as you are for you to leave.” Thranduil sighs from his throne. “Ah, there they are.” The woman, lady Dis, quickly whips around and smiles at you brightly.

“Hello dear. I’m Dis. It’s so wonderful to meet you.” Her kindness throws you off. While you are a dwarf, you were raised with elves so you expected some sort of resistance from her. She makes her way to you and pulls you into a tight hug. “We’ll be leaving once you’ve said your good byes. Take your time.” You can’t do anything but nod. You make your way over to the throne and look up at Thranduil.

“Your kindness will never be forgotten. Thank you for giving me such a wonderful home.” You finally get out. Your eyes are watery and you have to fight to keep your voice level. Thranduil cracks the smallest smile and nods.

“I hope you find what you’ve been looking for.” You smile back and nod. Next your go over to Legolas for one last hug.

“I’ll miss you so much.” You whisper.

“We’ll always be here for you.” He whispers back. After a moment you let go and walk over to lady Dis. She gives you a kind smile and with one last glance at the only family you’ve ever known, you follow her out the door and to your next great adventure.

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

You feel yourself being softly shaken and slowly open your eyes. “We’re here.” Dis says with a large smile. “Welcome to Erebor.” You quickly move to look out the window of the carriage and are shocked at what you see. Dis was the first dwarf you’d ever met and now you’re looking out at a sea of them. “I’ll take you to your room and you can freshen up then I’ll take you to meet Thorin.” All you can do is nod as you continue to look around.

Once the doors to your new room close behind you you flop down on the bed. “You got this. You’ll do great. No pressure. You’re just about to meet Thranduil's sworn enemy. No pressure.” You mutter to yourself. You take a moment to pull yourself together before you do as Dis said and get ready to meet Thorin.

When you’re ready you poke your head out the door. There’s no one in the hallway except for a blonde dwarf. You can’t help but smile at the beaded braids that hang next to his mouth. Elves don’t have facial hair so you couldn’t help but think his was odd, but it fit him. “Hello. I’m Fili, crown prince of Erebor. My mother had something to attend to, so I will be taking you to meet my uncle.” His smile is just as kind as his mothers. You silently follow his through the halls trying to remember any land marks to help you feel a little less lost. “What do you think?” He asks, noticing your careful examination.

“It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. It’s beautiful.” You could never have imagined that Erebor would be like this. It was breathtaking.

“You can see why we fought so hard to get it back.” All you can do is nod. “I hope you will grow to see it as a home.” He gives you another soft smile and stops in front of a large set of doors. He pushes them open and your eye immediately go to the dwarf on the throne. All the nerves hit you at once. You shakily curtsy once your reach the bottom on the steps that the thrown is at the top of.

“Yo-your majesty.” Your words are scarcely more than a whisper.

“So this is the dwarf raised by elves.” Well he’s certainly not one to beat around the bush. “Welcome to Erebor and welcome home.” You bite back the words that this is not in fact your home and it may never be, but you know better than to say that to Thorin.

“Thank you for allowing me to come live in your kingdom. I know that the relationship between elves and dwarves is not the best, but I hope to help better it.” Thorin stiffly nods and leans over to say something to a dwarf sitting next to him. The dwarf in question appears shell shocked, but quickly composes himself and jumps up making his way over to you.

“Prince Kili at your service.” He says with a wide smile. “I’ll take it from here Fi.” Fili nods and sends you a kind smile before walking to Thorin. “I’ll be your tour guide around Erebor and your main tutor to help you learn Khuzdul.” All you can do is nod. Your heart feels like it’s stopped and restarted ten times faster. Maybe all the change is too much and you’re dying. No, that can’t be it. The feeling is oddly pleasant. You suddenly feel as if everything will be ok. You don’t think you’ve ever known a calm like this. Kili pulls you out of your thoughts with a clap of his hands. “Right. Let’s get going. There’s lots to see.

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

“And this is the market. You will mostly find things made in the mountain or from Dale.” You nod at Kili's words and continue to look around wide eyed.

“It’s magnificent!” You practically run to a nearby stall with intricate beads proudly displayed on the table.

“Do you know what these ones are for?” He asks with a big grin. You shake your head no as you carefully pick one up. “They’re courting beads. You gift them at the beginning of a courtship and put them at the end of the braid you put in each others hair. Usually you hand make them yourself, but not always” You can’t help the soft smile that makes its way onto your face.

“What a beautiful custom.” There’s a strange pang of longing in your heart that twists when you look at Kili. You must have made a face because Kilis expression shifts from one of pride to one of concern.

“Are you alright?” He asks softly as he places a hand on your shoulder.

“I uhhh I think the day is starting to catch up with me. Would it be alright if I went and rested?” Kili quickly nods and begins to lead you out of the market.

“Of course. I’ll take you back to your chambers and you can rest until dinner.” You smile at him gratefully and follow him through the winding halls of the mountain. Once you arrived at your room Kili gave you a blinding smile and said he’d see you at dinner. All you could do was nod.

“It must be all the change. Erebor is rather different than Greenwood.” You mutter to yourself as you shuffle across your room to lay down. You heave a sigh and stare at the ceiling in your room. “Day one of being a full fledged dwarf is almost over…”

Unbeknownst to you Kili was practically dancing down the hallway on his way to find Fili. When he finally does he breaks out into a sprint and practically tackles his brother. “They’re my One!” He whisper screeches shaking Fili by the shoulders.

“What?” Fili asks trying to get out of his brothers grip.

“They’re my One! Can you believe it?” Fili looks at Kili confused for a second before it clicks and a wide grins breaks out on his face.

“What did they say?”

“Well nothing yet. I think they think they’re ill.” Kili shrugs.

“They think they’re ill?” Fili asks slowly.

“It makes sense they wouldn’t know what a One is, they were raised by elves after all.”

“What are you going to do?” Fili has never seen Kili happier as they make their way to their rooms to prepare for dinner.

“Obviously we’re going to get married.” Kili says with a love sick sigh.

“Before that. You said they think they’re ill.” Kili waves Fili off surprisingly unbothered by the fact that you could be interpreting your tie to him as an illness.

“No need to worry brother, just start writing your speech for the wedding.” Kili practically skips ahead of Fili who can only shake his head with a fond smile on his face.

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

It’s been six months since you arrived in Erebor and the adjustment has been smoother than you expected. You’ve picked up Khuzdul fairly well and are no longer so lost in the mountain. You are currently seated at the desk in your room writing a response to your most recent letter from Legolas. While you miss Greenwood and your elven family dearly, you are happy to let them know you’re adjusting to well to life in the Lonely Mountain. You’re pulled from your thoughts when you head a knock on the door. “Come in!” You call setting your quill down.

“Hello dear.” You quickly make your way across the room and hug Dis.

“To what do I owe the honor of your visit?” Dis holds a book out to you.

“A gift. It’s a book of dwarven fairy tales. I read it to Fili and Kili when they were little. Kili was actually the one who recommended it when I said I wanted to give you a gift.” You take the book into your hands and run your fingers along the intricate designs stamped into the cover.

“Thank you!” You gasp. “It’s beautiful. Thank you so much!” You say louder.

“Of course my dear. Being with us for half a year is an event deserving of a gift.” The two of you exchange smiles and another hug before Dis has to leave for a meeting. You’re quick to curl up in a chair and flip to the first story.

A few hours of you slowly reading the Khuzdul on the pages pass before there’s another knock on your door but you're so engrossed in the book you don’t notice. “There you are!” Your hand flies to your chest as you let out a scream.

“Kili why would you do that?” You hiss as he has the nerve to laugh.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. You missed lunch so I brought you some food. What’s got you so entranced?” He asks leaning over your shoulder to look at the book in your hands. “I see mom gave you her gift. What do you think?”

“They’re so different from the stories Legolas read me as a child I can’t wrap my head around it.” Kili smiles proudly and puffs out his chest. “There’s some parts I don’t understand tho.”

“I’m sure I can help explain it. What’s got you confused?” He takes a seat on the arm of the chair you’re sat in.

“Well first off the stories keep mentioning finding your One.” You point to a sentence on the page and when you look up at Kili he has an odd look on his face. Before you can ask what’s wrong he begins to speak.

“Your One is your other half. The one that Mahal put here to complete you. To find your One is to find unending peace and happiness. Finding your One is finding home.” Something in your heart twists at Kilis words.

“That sounds wonderful.” You whisper, staring at Kili. It feels like the world has stopped as the two of you stare at each other. Without thinking you both start to lean in. Your faces are inches apart when the book slips out of your lap and slams closed on the floor jolting you out of the moment. You awkwardly clear your throat while Kili looks like he’s trying to burn the book with his glare. “I umm I mean uhh yo-you said you brought lunch right? I don’t think I have any more questions so why don’t we eat?” Kili nods and quickly moves to set up the food on a nearby table.

The two of you eat in silence for a while before Kili clears his throat. “So, it’s been half a year. What do you think of Erebor?” He asks

“It’s nothing like what I imagined. The way dwarves live is so different from elves, but still so beautiful. It was odd at first to be around so many people like me, I mean I was the only dwarf I know for most of my life…” you trail off as you reflect on just how different the Lonely Mountain is from Greenwood and how much your life has changed.

“I’m uhhh I’m glad your not feeling ill anymore. I know how worried you were about it for the first few months.” He says after a moment.

“Ohhh ri-right. Yeah I’m feeling much better.” You try to smile but you think you probably look like you’re dying. Truth be told the odd feelings never went away, but as time went on they turned into a feeling of calm and safety so you stopped saying anything. “Kili, can I ask you a question?”

“Anything.” He says immediately with a big smile.

“Have you found your One? Do you know what it feels like?” His smile grows impossibly wider at your words.

“I have. It felt like my insides were exploding in the best way. I couldn’t breathe. It was like I hadn’t really been alive until then. In that first moment I knew that they have my heart in their hand and all I wanted to do was let them know.” His eyes have a look in them that you’ve never seen before. “I met them months ago and it still feels the exact same every time I see them.” Something in you shifts in a way that makes you feel like you’ve been stabbed in the chest. You look away from Kili and try to compose yourself.

“That’s wonderful.” You finally get out. As you bring your eyes back to Kili you can see the battle being waged behind his eyes. He takes a deep breath and nods to himself

“I’d really love for you to meet them.” Those words plunge the knife deeper into your chest.

“Who am I to say no to a prince of Erebor?” You try to laugh but it tastes bitter in your mouth.

“Tonight after dinner. Meet me in my room.” He stands so quickly it flings his chair back. Your eyes widen in surprise and all you can do is nod. “Great! I’ll see you then!” Without another word Kili is out the door and down the hall.

Kili has his One. This is something you should be happy about. He just told you how wonderful having your One is. So why does thinking about it make you wish you’d never come to Erebor?

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

Dinner comes and goes far too fast for your liking and now you find yourself outside Kilis room. You debate running away to your room and never coming out, but Kili is your friend and he was so excited for you to meet them. You can’t ditch him. With that thought you knock on his door. “Come in!” You can hear the excitement in his voice.

You slowly push the door open and find Kili in the middle of his room. Alone. “Have I come too early?” You ask as you continue to look around the room for another person. Kili says nothing and sets to the side to reveal something behind him covered in a sheet. He wordlessly motions for you to move the sheet. “Kili if this is another of you and Filis pranks I will snitch to your mother.” You warn as you shakily reach out for the sheet. As you pull it away you close your eyes and flinch back moving your hands to cover your face. After a moment of nothing you open your eyes a see a full length mirror.

“Meet my One.” Kili says softly. You step closer to the mirror confused.

“Is this a dwarf thing I don’t know about?” Kili laughs. “Why are you laughing? What’s going on Kili?”

“It’s you. Your my One. I’ve known it since the moment I first saw you.” Your speech less for a moment before a huge isgh of relief leaves you.

“Oh thank Mahal I’m not sick!” You say as the feeling of dread you’d been carrying lifted. Kili shakes his head fondly.

“No you’re not sick. Just in love.” He has that look in his eyes again and you’re pretty sure yours mirror it.

“Just in love.” You repeat. Kili takes hold of you hand and places something in it. When you open your hand you see a small intricately designed bead in it.

“I made it in the weeks after we first met.”

“Kili are you asking to court me?” You tease.

“I’m asking you to marry me one day.” He corrects with a proud smile on his face. You take a seat on the chair by his desk.

“Well then get braiding.” You didn’t know someone could smile so big until you see the one on Kilis face. “I can’t wait to tell Legolas.” You sigh happily as Kili begins braiding.

When he’s done you examine the braid before pulling him into an excited kiss. “Just in love.” You murmur happily when you pull away. Kili kisses your forehead before leading you toward the door to his room.

“We have to tell Fi! And amad! And uncle!” He cheers as he pulls you out of the room and towards his brothers. In that moment you decide that you love living in Erebor.

[piqtescue]

this photo is rewiring my brain

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Y/n: see how Garcia brought the shots back to the table?

Prentiss: very thoughtful.

JJ: very demure.

Morgan: what the fuck—

*hotch arrives*

Garcia: see how Hotch was late?

Prentiss: not very mindful.

Reid: not demure.

[fhrlclln]

hiiii can i request a fluffy and smutty fic with greasy qimir :> sometimes i prefer his dorky side before he revealed himself. something like friends to lovers, drunk confessions with the reader, or any storyline you like!

wasted confessions | qimir

SUMMARY -> you have been close friends with qimir, your fellow co-worker, for as long as you can remember when you worked under the mysterious force-user as a confidante. though harboring in yourself that you may view him as something more, his share of secrets unravel one night when he's had too much to drink with you.

qimir x fem! reader

masterlist

GENRE -> nsfw/smut

WARNINGS -> unprotected p in v, oral (f!receiving), hair pulling, kinda sub! qimir

WC -> 5.2k

a/n: blowing o’s while cooking with this delicious fic. sorry for the delay lol! hope this satisfies you, anonz!! I ALSO LOVE THE DORKY QIMIR 🥹🥹🥹

likes, comments and reposts are greatly appreciated !! <3

enjoy !!

"qimir."

you knock on the starship's front door, getting impatient by the minute when there's no response. you tap your foot, waiting for a moment incase he finally wakes up. you sigh, knocking again, even louder as you can manage.

he always seems to do this on important missions.

"qimir!" you yell out again as you rolled your eyes. the people around the docking bay stare at you, wondering why you were insistent in waking up the owner of the ship when it is literally pass sleeping hours. knocking for several times again, you grumble, heading towards the cockpit as you stare up, knowing he was in there, sleeping soundly as ever. your eyes roam around the bottom of the ship for a moment and you pick something up, some rubbish or what, and chuck it at the cockpit's window. it makes a loud thud before it falls on the floor again.

a tiny yelp and shuffling inside the cockpit makes you sigh in relief.

the main door of the starship opens swiftly and low and behold is your sleepy companion greeting you with a smile and messy hair. his shirt is all wrinkled up and by the looks like of his pants, it seemed he had put them on the last minute. your nostrils flare, no matter how charming he tries to be, he was getting on your nerves.

“h-hey! you’re early!”

“get dressed!” you push him inside his ship hastily and he yelps at your sudden touch as you push the button to shut the door. your nose catches a strong scent of alcohol on him and you grimace as you whined at qimir.

“mother of kriff, qimir, did you drank a whole cantina?” you shove him inside to the lounging area of the ship. he sits down as he watches you go in the hallway leading to his room.

“i needed a drink- or three. hey, i’m sorry, mae was out and you were out. i had nothing to do!” he voices his reason as you came out with fresh semi-clean clothes in your hands as you toss it towards him. he fumbles, quickly catching his clothes.

“get dressed. quickly. i hope you remembered why we’re here.” you fold your arms, eyeing him with a scolding and stern look on your face. you did not want this whole plan of his to be in ruins after you had strategically been eyeing the local apothecary near the jedi temple to be the look out spot for the big boss’s acolyte’s mission.

“local apothecary. blend in. yes, i remember.” he stands up as you glared at him. “because that was my idea. so yeah, i do remember. i always remember my plans, sunshine.”

you scoffed and he pats your shoulder before he heads in the bathroom. you were not really that annoyed with him, this dynamic between you two has been going on for as long as you can remember when you had been working for the masked stranger. you had met him when you were tasked on a job to steal… certain jedi stuff and qimir was your companion that day. he was, for the most part, kind of a big mouth asking you how you came to be working for the stranger and so-on and so-forth.

you grew to like him as a friend… or you think so. he has his charms, awkward and clumsy he may be, but he’s a good friend in all the trouble you are in working under what you can say is a man that’s clearly not a jedi and wields a red fucking saber. but he pays good and you couldn’t argue with that and for the most part, you owe him for saving your ass when you were still a smuggler back then. just that, you kinda wished he’d be more human than a creepy masked stranger when tells the jobs for you in-person.

“i don’t get why you are in a hurry. we got this.” qimir looks at you as you two walked in the dimmed markets of olega.

“i’m not. i just don’t want to blow this whole thing up.” you answered. the bustling noises of people and vendors filling in your hearing.

“it’s not like we’re gonna fail this. it’s me and you helping mae! we do great together.” he bumps his elbow to you gently, trying to cheer you up. you snort, nodding.

“i know. it’s not mae i’m worried if we fail.” you shrugged. qimir’s face frowns at that, knowing who you are pointing out.

“he’s not like that…” he gently says as you two passed by the jedi temple, the apothecary is near.

“you always defend him.” you snort. “i know mae’s master isn’t that crazy… but who knows? maybe if i fuck up one thing and blow his whole cover he’d stab me with his lightsaber-thingy.”

qimir goes quiet at that. something on his face tells you that he seems upset.

“you okay?” you asked him, concerned, raising a brow.

“i’m g-good! but hey, don’t worry too much. he knows your loyalty, he sees it and i see it! i would be very much be grateful in his place for all the hardworking stuff you do for him and mae.” he explains and you smiled at his optimism. he was always like this when you ranted out your worries for mae’s master, as if he knew him so well. but he merely says he owes him that’s why. you don’t press anything further, guessing it might be more than that and he isn’t willing to tell it to you yet.

“here it is.” you two stand in-front of the apothecary and you can see inside the old man who runs it. ready to close his shop for the night.

“right behind you.” qimir smiles as you walk in with him following behind your back, ready to quietly let his plan flourish.

・゜゜・．

“wear this.” qimir urges you, handing you a very large set of tunics and robes in his hand. you grimaced, not even liking the color and it surely wouldn’t even suit you.

“why me? i thought you were the one going to blend in.” you huff and he grins.

“nuh-uh, we’re in this together so you have to blend in as well.” he says as you took the robes. “it’s comfy, don’t you worry, sunshine.”

you eye him up, looking at his own robes he borrowed from the apothecary’s shopkeeper. it certainly made him even look more… what can you say? dorky? cute? you think and it makes you laugh.

“you’re laughing at me. again.” he pouts and you ignored him, heading at the back of the shop to change. “it’s rude to laugh at me for no reason!”

the robes were definitely too big on you but you managed to at least give it an appealing look of how you wear it but it certainly was comfy. you head back to the counter and you see qimir fiddling with the shelves, sniffing a bottle he has in his hand and it makes him welch. you shake your head, amused as you lean forward on the counter.

“what do you think mae will try next to kill this jedi master?” you asked, grabbing some merchandise on the counter to examine it while qimir hums at your question about mae’s mission to kill master torbin.

“i don’t know.” he merely shrugs and grabs a flask as he smells it and his face lights up in his find.

“i’d be bummed out trying to kill a jedi without a weapon, that was what she said, right?” qimir nods and you hum thoughtfully.

“mae’s gonna eventually find a way to do that. it's part of her lesson.” qimir says as he drinks from the flask. “if she fails with this one, there’s the wookie next.”

“ugh.” you grimaced. “i feel bad for her. a wookie jedi.”

he chuckles and rounds towards you behind the counter. “i think it’s a challenge for mae. i haven’t seen anyone fought a wookie yet and let alone a jedi one at that. i am curious to see how that goes.”

“trust me, you don’t want to see that.” you mumbled, cringing back when a particular memory from before crosses your mind.

“can’t she like- you know, use the force.” you blabbered. “like choke a person. that’s a thing in the jedi, right?” you gestured your hand as if you were holding someone in a chokehold. qimir looks at you amusingly and something is written across his face with that suggestion of yours.

“that’s not a jedi thing.” he shakes his head at you with a small laugh and you shrugged, liking his laughter that rings through your ears.

"i'd make it my thing then if i had the force." you regarded. "besides, it's worth the try if i were mae."

"i'm pretty sure you would." qimir says as he took a sip from his small flask. you eye him, wanting to tease him a little as you snatched his flask after he took a swig.

"hey!

you took a sniff of it and grimaced at the strong smell of the contents. it certainly was... alcoholic.

"ugh. what is this?" your nose scrunched in disgust but before you could take a sip of courage, qimir snatches it back quickly.

“no drinking on the job.” he teases and you rolled your eyes.

“hypocrite.” you poke the side of his waist making him yelp at the sudden touch and you giggled at his reaction. “says the one who always drinks on the job.”

“this isn’t a real drink so i wouldn’t even consider that i am drinking on the job right now.” he downs the remaining liquid in the flask and sets it down on the counter with a relaxed sigh.

“but speaking of drinks. i do need a real drink, i managed to snatch a bottle of the local rum on our way here.” he bends down to grab something underneath the counter. you eye him curiously, seeing him so excited. he stands up again and smiles devilishly as he holds the bottle in front of you.

“do you wanna drink while we wait for mae?”

usually, you would decline his offer but now you can’t help yourself, deciding maybe one drink would help ease you down for a bit. meaning…

one drink and two more…

but here now are the two of you, sitting on the floor behind the counter. the shop is closed and the only thing that fills in the darkness of the place is the dim light by the counter. the bottle of rum is half-empty and qimir is giggling loudly at one of your absurd stories which, in-fact, weren’t really that funny but you two giggle at it anyway of how you tell it. you hadn’t realize how late it was but that didn’t even matter as qimir tipsily babbles at you.

“listen, listennnnn-“ he tipsily holds his finger up to you as you giggled at the way he was acting now. both of your systems jacked up with alcohol.

“what?” you couldn’t stop giggling as he giggles as well.

“i- i just can’t understand why mae can’t figure out how to do her mission!” he says as he sighs, blowing a raspberry before picking up the bottle of rum and putting it on his mouth. he takes a big sip and you watch his adam’s apple bob at each gulp he took. your entire body feels fuzzy and you aren’t sure if it’s the alcohol taking that effect or the unsaid feelings that’s threatening to spill out in you. you blink, mesmerized by the sheen of sweat on his honey pale skin as qimir finishes his drink then looks straight at you. everything feels in slow motion, and you can feel yourself get lost in the warm sensation of the moment and in his dark brown eyes.

“i mean… you said it! use the force! how can’t she see that?” he hiccups and you nod along, not fully registering his words. “and i’m kinda pissed how she takes me for granted! i- we have been helping her for as long as we can… a little thank you or something would be nice.”

“yeah… a thank you would be nice as well from the master.” you said, nodding dumbly as you grab the bottle from his hand and took a large sip.

“i’m sure he’s thankful for you- us.” he hiccups again and you shake your head at that.

“i doubt. i work for him so i guess gratitude wouldn’t really need to be there.” you say and took a sip.

“hey…” qimir pats your thigh and you look at him. “he can be a little… cryptic but i know he appreciates the work you do for him.”

“and how do you knowww?” you stretch out the last syllables sarcastically. qimir smiles and scoots closer to you, his arm is squished against yours and the tingly feeling inside you doesn’t hinder. he stares at you for a moment, looking into your eyes before it flickers down to your lips.

“because…” he begins, eyes flickering back to yours. “you’re tough, strong, hardworking… kind and most of all, loyal.” he nips his lower lip momentarily and your gaze is stuck to that as he continues. you feel warm and qimir feels even warmer beside you.

“he’d be an idiot not to see all that.” he smirks and you giggle. something else is behind those words than what he truly says.

“shhh, he might hear you.” you giggle again and qimir just grins at you.

“bahh, don’t care.” he says. “you’re an amazing woman so don’t underestimate yourself.”

you smile at him at that, your chest fluttering and your head is pounding at the sudden rush of blood. qimir looks at you, eyes heavy and his cheeks painted red.

“you’re cute trying to reassure me.” you roll your eyes at him, feeling a little shy now despite being tipsy.

“i think that’s the first compliment you have ever given me!” he laughs and you smile. “i’m honored.”

“well, sorry, you should fix your greasy hair sometimes and maybe i’ll compliment you even more.” you teasingly say then brushed the bangs covering his face to tuck it behind his ear. you hadn’t realized you had done that until a tense silence comes between you two. qimir stares at you, as if he was in a trance as his eyes flicker down to your lips again. you watch him, his face was close to yours, noses almost touching and you feel his hot breath brush against your skin.

there’s something written across his face. you weren’t sure really or that you are completely ignoring the truth in front of you. yes, you do like him… you really do like qimir but you always held back on those lingering feelings knowing that it would be a bad idea to act on it due to both of your obligations to the master and your friendship. distractions are dangerous… but maybe this one, you think, would be worth it if you try.

a kiss wouldn’t hurt your friendship, right?

“qimir?” you breathily call out his name.

“yeah?” he asks, his voice a little shaky but lower now. you blink, looking down to his lips then back to his eyes. the alcohol in your veins certainly making you courageous now as you ask him softly…

“can you kiss me?”

maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was something more. your mind has a hundred questions but you don’t care for them right now as qimir’s lips lock with yours with such intensity. his mouth was on yours seconds after you asked him that and you were slightly taken aback how desperate he is. you grip his shoulders as he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer for more. you’re almost on top of him as you tangled your fingers in his black locks. your heart is beating loudly and the fire down your core is burning wildly as qimir breathily sighs between your kisses.

everything feels soft, hot and heavy.

years of imagining what his lips would taste like didn’t disappoint you. he was like a roaring flame underneath you, the more you reciprocated, the more he showed this side that burns through your skin. you want more- so much more but…

you stop.

you break away from him the moment you two needed air. your lips are centimeters from his, both of your mouths are glistening underneath the dim light and his eyes are darker the way he looks at you. the sound of heavy breathing fills in the air and you ponder for a moment, your rational brain starting to tell you that this was wrong. both of you are pumped with alcohol in your veins and maybe this kiss was just in the heat of the moment. you stay silent, waiting for qimir to break away and reject you.

“i dreamed of this. your lips…” he whispers, lips brushing gently against yours. your heart pounds wildly from his words but you still can’t believe it. were you dreaming? it seemed like his own share of secrets and yours are finally laid down at last.

“we’re drunk… are y-you sure-“

“i’m perfectly sure.” he strongly says, as if the giggling qimir had vanished and this baffles you.

“since when?” you ask shyly.

“since the start.” he confesses and you feel alive.

“me too.” you confessed as well and this makes his heart soar as well.

and your mind didn’t question anything further when you leaned again to capture his mouth on yours. now here you are, things got heated quickly as you were on your back with him above you, in between your legs as you breathily moan his name out when he kisses your neck softly.

his hand gently caresses the side of your waist to where your skin is peeking out from the ill-fitted robes you wear. your hands are in his hair again and you shuddered when the tips of his fingers went up higher. he nips the soft flesh of your neck, littering you with then with kisses as he sucks on a sensitive spot making you whimper. your hands then roamed back to his shoulders, feeling underneath the tension of his muscles even though his wool tunic was concealing much to your eyes. your hands then travel down to his chest, then downwards to the hem of his tunic. you tug up but he stops for a moment with his other hand. qimir’s head shoots up to meet your questioning gaze.

“n-not here.” he breathily says and you eye at the small alcove behind him. your eyes shimmer with want and he sits up, pulling you along as well to get there. you kiss him when both of you are standing, he slowly steps back where you guide him to the small couch in the alcove. you messily kiss him with such need in which he reciprocates with such desperation, your hands move to get him out of his tunic while he did the same to you. his hands fumble with your robes and you managed to pry off the string holding his tunic and your hands are rewarded with the feel of his hot skin beneath your palm.

you break the kiss with a curious look in your eyes when you look down to see his muscled chest and clearly toned abdomen. what else was he hiding from you underneath his ugly clothes? you think and qimir smirks at your dazed face. he makes use of your distraction to turn you around and push you gently to the couch. you make a noise of surprise and your top is off in seconds, making you shiver at the cold air. he towers over you and latches his mouth to your neck again then trailing down to your bared breasts.

“qimir…” you mewl and he latches his mouth on one of your nipples and sucks. you gasp at the feeling of his sinful mouth as his other hand grope the neglected breast. your mind is clouded with want and need when he continues his ministrations, alternating between your breasts. satisfied with your reaction to his touch, he pops his lips out when he detaches from your breast and focuses down to your clothed bottoms. he removes his opened tunic first, granting you a full view of his muscled body making your thighs clench and your core dripping with need.

he’s fit. like really fit and you wonder where the hell did the hunched back and dorky qimir was.

he hooks his fingers on your bottoms and gently removes it and tosses it aside like his tunic. it leaves you bare but with your panties on concealing the prize he seems to now focus on.

“you’re so beautiful.” he almost whines at the sight of you almost naked. your cheeks flushed hot and qimir then touches the hem of your panties as he looks at you with dark glinting eyes. “can i?”

you nod, liking how airy is tone is, how you can feel he’s feeling the same want and need like you. you watch him pull your panties down to your thighs then to your ankles then tossing it back his shoulder. you feel shy now, bare underneath him. you close your thighs instantly and he smiles at you.

“what’s there to be shy about, sunshine?” he says and you roll your eyes but you can’t help but smile as well.

“come on, open up.” he taps your knees and you do. his chest rise at the sight of you glistening for him. he licks his lips and your heart hammers seeing the tent in his pants.

“hurry up.” you tease him and he moves, gripping your thighs as he bends down and hooks your legs on his shoulders.

“patience.” he says as he kisses your inner thigh.

“you’re so wet for me.” he is in awe as he dives in, latching his mouth immediately on your clit. you grip his hair at the sudden wave of pleasure from his mouth. he sucks, relishing the taste of you as he flattens his tongue to lick a stripe from your seam. you feel him hum with satisfaction and you moan out his name airily as he eats you out like a starved man.

you arch your back when he sucks your clit again, you were dizzy and very much pleased how skilled his tongue is. the apothecary is filled with your breathy moans and sighs of his name and qimir groans when you tug his hair harshly as he slurps. he’s drooling, grinding down on the couch at how hard he is from eating you out.

“kriff.” he curses as he sucks and licks, alternating his mouth to your clit and opening. you could almost feel yourself cumming, the knot in your stomach is forming but as wonderful the thought of cumming on his tongue was, you wanted to come with him inside you.

“get u-up.” you shakily say, tugging his hair back harshly as he lifts his head up with it. you blink, core clenching seeing his chin and mouth glistening with your wetness. you tug again as he gets the memo as you released his greasy and messy hair. he sits back on his knees and you rise up slightly, letting your hands hurriedly pushing his bottoms down. he does it as well, desperate to free himself from his confines. with one pull down, he frees himself, cock spring out as it hits his abdomen. you drool at the sight of his hard prick and he grips himself, groaning out your name at the sensation.

“c-can i…?” he asks again, looking down at you with watery eyes. “can i fuck you, please?”

you nod dumbly, loving the way he is so cute to ask you first. “get inside me.” you command and spread your legs wider and he slots himself immediately between them. he rests his forehead against yours and you watch him line himself to your entrance. the tip of his cock sinks in and you kiss him hungrily. qimir shakily lets out a curse and a few breathy sighs between kisses as he pushes his hips forward to slot himself inside you. you mewl, feeling full as he pushes himself inch by inch.

“you’re so warm.” he says and you moan, you clench around him as he bottoms himself in you. he stays still for a moment, adjusting his arms to prop himself properly whilst you kiss every inch of his skin that comes near your mouth. you clench again and qimir shakily lifts his hips up then thrusts. you arch your back as he thrusts in again, grinding himself to your hips.

he sets a steady rhythm now and you grip his broad shoulders. your eyes meet his hazily and he moans out your name. the sound of skin slapping fills in the apothecary, outside is quiet and you think for a moment that maybe your neighbors would complain tomorrow of the noises you two make. your cunt wraps around him so perfectly it makes him feel like jelly. and the sound you make as he pounds into your cunt has him wanting for more.

your hearts beat loudly, sweat is shinning on both of your skins, kisses are shared and most of all, both of you feel complete even if it was unsaid at the moment. you could feel your high nearing as you glide your hand down to your clit, qimir’s rhythm is faltering as he feels himself coming undone. his hair disheveled and he feels you clench tight.

“come for me, qimir.” you whisper and he nods, groaning out your name as he fastens his pace. he bites his lip and his muscles clenched at it, and he empties himself inside you with a load groan of your name. you shoot up, rubbing your clit harshly as you come undone after him, his warm cum filling you. you clench around his hard cock and fall back onto the couch. you sigh, other hand gently brushing his hair out of his face.

he sighs as well, slowly pulling out making you whimper at the lost of the fullness. you see his eyes blink tiredly and you gently guide him to rest on your chest. he follows, wrapping his arm around your waist. your chest is still heaving from the intensity and you also feel yourself getting sleepy.

“i like you… like a lot.” he breaks the silence and you chuckled, caressing his hair as he snuggles his face between your breasts.

“i like you too.” you whisper and he smiles at that, eyes blinking sleepily as your hearts soar. you two fall into a deep slumber with satisfaction from the secrets that were finally not left unsaid anymore.

・゜゜・．

things did change after that night. you woke up with him still snoring soundly on your chest. the sun was peeking through the closed blinds of the store and you knew you had to break this soft moment as mae would arrive later. you were so happy that even though your friendship had shifted, it still held the same but with kisses shared and more smiles on your faces.

qimir clearly became more joyful as well. he walks with a spring on his steps as him and mae walk in the forests of khofar. you were left behind by the ship to keep a look out after the three you had escaped olega since the jedi order had caught mae on her mission and interrogated the two of you in the apothecary much to both of your dismays. qimir hums a happy tune and mae looks at him skeptically.

“so both of you finally managed to get on with it, huh?” she asks him as he suddenly stops in his steps, acting dumb and looks at the acolyte with feign confusion. “don’t act dumb. why do you call her sunshine?”

“because… she’s like the sun and she shines?” he shrugs and mae rolls her eyes, sighing.

“i don’t know what she sees in you but i’m glad she’s happy.” she says and they continue their walk while qimir grins.

“i’m happy as well!” he fakes a frown and mae ignores him.

you on the other hand are biting your lip nervously. night has already fallen and qimir and mae haven’t come back. your thoughts run wild and you worry that maybe the jedi wookie had got to them. especially qimir, you were worried for him even though you knew he could defend himself but with a blaster and maybe his dorky pleads to let him go. he did plead with you to stay put, leaving you with a kiss and a promise they’ll come back in one shape but you can’t help yourself.

you knew where the wookie’s house was in the forest. you were the one who managed to find it using your resources in khofar. now you trek in the woods, blaster in hand and followed the trail. you were getting worried not hearing qimir’s voice as you neared the house. but to your surprise, it was filled with countless dead jedis. you freeze in place as you surveyed the scene. did mae managed to do this? you think but it was likely.

you then heard a scrunch in the bushes and you swiftly turned around, aiming for whoever was there.

“hey! you’re here.” qimir emerges from the bushes and you are surprised.

“qimir? you had me worried.” you sighed, tucking your blaster back in your belt. he comes near you and the sun starts to rise and you can see him clearly now. your eyes widened seeing him dressed in black robes with muscled arms covered in dirt and sweat as if he gone through a fight, you tilt your head to the side and look him in the eyes.

“sorry. sorry.” he apologizes as he comes closer to you. you are silent for a moment, something in you skeptical at his sudden change of clothes. it was so familiar but as you were about to ask him on his style change, he then kisses you shortly and wraps his arms around you in a hug and rests his head on your shoulder with a tired sigh.

you blink, suddenly realizing something as you look down to his belt to see an awfully familiar saber. you reciprocated the hug but your brow twitching with irritation of another secret that was revealed that you clearly wished he had told you much earlier.

“you have a lot of explaining to do.”

“sorry.”

[fhrlclln]

underneath | qimir

SUMMARY -> ever since you found him and he trained you, he had always concealed his identity to you for his unknown reasons. you were always curious what he looks like underneath the cortosis helm he wears. though, this time the curiosity in you would be sated at last when a particular sparring session turns into an unexpected lesson in trust.

qimir x acolyte!fem! reader

masterlist

GENRE -> mild nsfw/smut

WARNINGS -> unprotected p in v, sexual tension, mild violence, master/pupil dynamic & smut is at the end : P

WC -> 2.82k

a/n: surprise! another qimir fic cuz i can’t get him out of my head.

likes, comments and reposts are greatly appreciated !! <3

enjoy !!

"have you ever wondered what he looks like underneath that mask?"

you asked your fellow pupil, mae, one day out of the blue. the particular reason for asking that question had always been because of your undying curiosity for the years you started to train under him.

your masked master.

"i don't." mae would answer, saying that she doesn't care what he would look like underneath the mask. saying that as long as he trains her, his identity doesn't matter to her. you understood her with that, she was his acolyte first and it probably dawned upon you that the years of concealing his identity to her she had thrown away the curiosity of what their master looked like.

but on the other hand, you, you somehow couldn't stop wondering.

you had found him or- he had found you when you were escaping your slave captors after your own sister had betrayed you in selling you to them. you were angry, in rage and unaware of the dormant power that had awoken in you with that rage you had felt. and in your fit of rage, you had managed to slaughter two of the captors chasing you, leaving you feeling guilty for your horrendous actions. you decided to escape and flee the planet. that is until by some chance, you had come across the masked stranger in the middle of the night who had told you about the gift you possessed, telling that you shouldn't be ashamed you used it in your self-defense.

and that's when he had took you under his wing, training you as his pupil.

he had taught you what your gift was, what your power is. he trained you, taught you and for the most part, despite him putting this distance between you and mae, he had helped you. and maybe that’s why you’re so curious to know who he is really, you wanted to see the master who had graciously accepted you despite you knowing your connection with the force was not as strong as mae’s.

he was… well, you could not really put a strong opinion on what kind of a man your master was. for the most part, he was always away and in training sessions, he was closed-off and distant. but when he spars with you and mae, that’s when a hint of his personality is peeking through.

rough, aggressive, strict. the way he spared with you had left you with tired sore knees and bruised arms when defending. on the offensive attacks you made he was quick to dodge and maneuver himself with your predictable attacks. he was ruthless in his combat but there was still that fluidity in it. but you knew he still held back with you despite the aggressiveness. you wished he had put more effort in your sparring sessions just like mae’s but you knew he was focusing more on her since she was at the brink of completing her lessons.

“safe travels, mae.” you wish her luck as she nods at you. the master had given her final lesson- to kill a jedi without a weapon. you were proud of your fellow acolyte but it did upset you how much you were falling behind. the waves splash in the background as you watch her walk to her ship. you wave her off as you saw it fly out the cloudy atmosphere then jumped into hyperspace, on the course to euda.

the sea breeze helps you gather your thoughts, and you wonder if the master would train you further today. seeing that mae had to learn this lesson by herself. sensing him, you feel the pull of the force as you turn around to see your master standing a few feet away from you.

the scene makes you remember that night when you found him. for a moment it did frighten you to see him loom over you when you fell to your knees from running. you were injured then and you had momentarily thought he was one of the slave traders that was trying to capture you. it took you a while to get used to him being like this when he appears out of the blue. well, for a random person, it would seem frightening to see a masked stranger dressed in black robes suddenly appear in mid-air. plus the saber tucked in his belt.

“master.” you greet him, anticipation lingering inside you.

“we shall continue your training today, my acolyte.” his modulated voice says. you feel your chest swell with excitement as you nodded. “be prepared.”

“of course, master.” you bowed slightly as he walks off to where the sparring lessons usually are. you smiled to yourself, maybe this time he’d finally put more effort in your training as you walk with a slight spring in your steps.

・゜゜・．

“focus.”

he says as your feet scraped against the rocks at his force push. you huff, your chest heaving, your leather tunic is starting to stick on your glistening sweaty skin, making you feel uncomfortable. you sigh, frustrated how you were not landing a single blow on him. your mind was elsewhere, seeming that you are still focused on wondering what he looks like underneath that mask.

“use that frustration. focus on your emotions.” he commands and you composed yourself, swatting the questions of his unknown face in your head. you ready yourself in a fighting stance, body facing to the side while you wave your arm in front of you. you clenched your fist for a moment as you heed into his words and attack. you use the force to heighten your leap towards him as you land a blow but he dodges again. an uppercut, he doges, a kick you do he dodges again. you feel yourself get even more irritated but in ease that he was finally not holding back when he blocks one of your blows with his arm.

but still, you were still not fighting the way he has to expect you to fight.

“you are too trustful in me, acolyte.” he scolds you, the modulated tone ringing. he backs away from you as you stopped, confused. yes, you indeed trust him, why was it a bad thing?

“i beg your pardon, master?” your breaths are labored and somehow from the close distance, you could hear him sigh underneath the mask.

“you are too trustful.” he says again. “do not trust me that i will not kill you even if i am training you. trust in yourself. we cannot continue this lesson if you do not learn to do that.” a chill runs through your spine at his words. there’s a slight pang of hurt in those words of his that were true. yes, he could kill you. why wouldn’t he if you failed him? you seem to stiffen at his words as he reminds you again, this time he will take the offensive attack.

“trust is a fragile thing. you cannot trust anyone but yourself, my acolyte. even if the person has sworn to trust you, they would eventually betray you. but yourself? you cannot betray yourself.” he explains as you nodded at his words. “when since you had put your whole trust in someone and they betrayed you in the end?”

you look at him, rage starting to boil in you when you remembered your own sister’s betrayal. your chest tightens and your mind is enraged with it. the pain she had put you in, the survival you had to do, the running you had to tire and the people you had to kill just to be free-

“there it is.” he says, proud. feeling your ever glowing rage.

“now, focus.” he suddenly attacks you as you dodged swiftly. both of you move in a tandem, as if it were a dance. the painful realization that even your master, the one who saved you and took you in, would eventually might betray you as well. the rage in you is at its boiling point as you let out a guttural scream when he almost aims for your neck. you push him back with your force then surging to him with heat in your steps as you attacked. he blocks your powerful blow with two of his arms forming an x. you kick him immediately on the stomach and he lurches, caught off guard.

you were too in to your emotions as you attacked and attacked. he tries to doge and block your every hit but he eventually succumbs to your rage when you finally kicked him to the ground. before he could stand, you immediately come on top of him, preventing that. you fist the collar of his robe, clenched hand in the air ready to land a final punch-

“excellent, my acolyte.” he cuts you off as you suddenly blink back into your rational self. you let go of his collar and you let yourself relax but ultimately surprised how close you are to him. you’re on top of him, your legs caging his waist and he seems not to dismiss you to get off. you can see clearly his helmet now, it was full of marks of previous battles. you take your time to admire him beneath you, how his adam’s apple bob and the sheen of sweat covering his bare muscular arms that were bulging with veins.

you blush, realizing you were staring at your master with ill thoughts.

but… the curiosity of what he looks like underneath it makes you wonder. your hand slowly comes up to his helmet and you feel him watch you with every move you make. he observes silently and you hovered your hand above his masked face. but you snap out of it again, realizing you could have offended him. and he could kill you for this. you know he takes great lengths to conceal his identity.

“a-apologies, master, i-“ before you could retract your hand and get off him. his hand suddenly grips your wrist. your eyes widened as he sits up and you adjust, hovering above his lap. he tilts his head to the side inquisitively, as if he was amused to see your curiosity be revealed. you stay quiet, staring at his masked face, waiting for his words. your cheeks are hot and you feel the anticipation grow in you. he places your hand on the side of his mask, the way he brushes your fingers softly makes you feel wobbly now.

“go on.” he merely says. you stutter, not knowing what to say. did he just agreed for you to remove his mask? your thoughts are jumbled but you succumb to your curiosity. you put both of your hands to both sides of his masked face. you slowly remove it inch by inch whilst you stared at the peaking facial features you have longed imagined what he looked like. you remove the helm completely and your heart skips a beat.

your eyes meet with a strangely beautiful dark ones.

his black hair is disheveled, his skin is smooth and his jawline is handsomely well chiseled. your eyes roam his face and it settles to his pink lips. you feel a hum of arousal between your legs when you look into his eyes again. his face is so close to yours that you can feel his hot breath tingle your lips. you put his helmet down to your side as the other brushes the black locks of his concealing his face. his pupils grow dark, your lips are inches to his and you somehow feel in-trance to lock it with yours.

this, this is the face of your master.

he’s beautiful. you think as you let out a noise when his other hand brush against your thigh. the other gently grips your hand that brushed his hair. you wondered why he had hidden his beautiful face from you and mae.

“master…” you plead as he smirks and it makes you blush.

“you did good today.” his low voice with a rasp of approval instead of the modulated one made your stomach churn and your thighs clench. the way his lips are still hovering above yours makes your head dizzy with the anticipation of what he’s doing. his top lip brushes against yours and he leans forward but before you could feel his soft lips lock with yours, you pull back. this is wrong.

“apologies, master.” you place your hands on his chest as you pulled yourself up to your feet. he seems taken aback for a moment with your rejection but composes himself as he eyes you up with a dark glint in his eyes.

“curiosity is normal. don’t be embarrassed.” he chuckles and that rings through your ears. the way he acts now is dissimilar to when he has his mask on and it baffles you how human he now is. you don’t know what to say, fearing that you have failed him in almost every way. you watch him stand up then grabbed his helmet and he looks at you. something in his gaze shines with hunger.

“we’ll continue our lesson another time.” he walks pass you and the brush of his arm against yours makes your heart jump.

“yes, master.” the initial shock of the situation still hasn’t faded when he’s out of your sight. you gulp, sweat dripping down your forehead. was he not upset that you know his face now? would he kill you for it later perhaps? those questions hang in the air. your heart still beats remembering his lips close to yours. you turn back, walking back to the shore, there’s a feeling you can’t seem to place as you let your thoughts linger on your master’s revealed face.

・゜゜・．

you dry your face with a rag then pulled a fresh tunic and bottoms from your pile of fresh clean robes. the dimness of the light inside your room in the cave made it comforting for your wild thoughts. you put on the brown tight bottoms then the grey tunic. but those thoughts soon come alive when you felt a presence near the entrance of your room.

you turn around swiftly, seeing your master standing right by the concave opening of your room. no mask on but just wearing… perfectly normal clothing. he dawned a white tunic and usual black bottoms, his hair is slicked back, damp from his bath you presumed. you stand awkwardly, not knowing what to say or do. you were used to his mysterious persona.

“you did exceptionally well today.” he begins with a praise. “but, i am surprised how focused you are on knowing what i look like.”

“thank you.” you merely say, eyes shying away when he points out your curiosity. “i apologize for that, master.”

“don’t be.” he steps forward and each step he takes has an anticipation behind them. you stay in your place, taking in how comforting he looks. “i’m glad for your curiosity.” he confesses.

“you are?” you are surprised with that.

qimir nods, adoring the way you seemed so surprised. he had his reasons for concealing his identity to you and mae. it was for to create a distance between the master and pupil. he feared attachment might overcome why he took you under his wing. he knows you already saw him as a person who finally cared for you and in truth, he does. you are a gifted woman with the force and over the years despite the distance he placed, you managed to crawl into his cold heart.

“but i fear your curiosity isn’t sated enough.” he points out and the atmosphere in the room changes. you know what he means. when you had almost kissed him but you hesitated, fearing that things might change drastically after that. he was your master after all. he steps closer to you, the distance is just like the one moments ago.

“am i right?” he asks when you stare at his lips. you wondered if mae would be enraged for what you are about to do as your body moved at its own accord.

you surge forward and lock your lips with his.

and that ends up with you sprawled underneath him. your curiosity is sated and he rewards you more with a thrust of his hips with his cock inside you. you clench around him, your hands caressing the width of his broad back. here you are, your naked body pressed against his as you moan in his ear. he groans, suckling the soft flesh of your neck.

“master…” you sigh, legs wrapped around tight on his waist. his hands are holding your thighs in place as he thrusts his cock into your warm heat. he locks eyes with your heavy one and it makes him soar at the feeling of you wrapped around him. he smirks as he kisses you hotly as he grinds his hips down.

your curiosity indeed was successfully sated by him.

[killmurderfuck]

Me after absorbing any kind of media:

[nereidprinc3ss]

weber's law

in which spencer reid comforts fem!reader when she's having a panic attack at the rossi mansion

fluff warnings/tags: panic attack lol, spencer is really cute and sweet my little perfect cutie pie angel baby, classic spencer info dumps bc they're pretty much his love language, established relationship, cheesy and sweet at the end a/n: this one is for my queens with panic disorders who are triggered by literally nothing and everything i see you have this ilysm

When Spencer had invited you to a small get-together at Rossi’s, you’d imagined a small get-together at Rossi’s. 

And maybe that makes you a complete idiot. 

Or maybe Spencer is just so used to FBI work functions that to him, this really is small.

But now you’re sitting on an expensive couch in a very nice house, and you’re surrounded by FBI agents who are all milling around and talking and laughing, and you’re worried maybe your outfit doesn’t look as nice on you as you’d thought it did, and you keep having very vivid visions of spilling your drink all over a furry throw rug that probably costs more than your rent does. 

Music that could reasonably be considered relaxing or at the very least not objectionable plays over the sound system throughout the whole house and thus is inescapable—not that you’d get up from the couch even if you could, because Spencer is sitting to your right and he has his hand on your thigh and it’s the only thing that has until this point been keeping you from a full blown panic attack.

Maybe that makes you a complete idiot, too.

Regardless, you try to focus on nothing but the weight of his hand as it travels slowly up and down from knee to hip over the jeans you’re not so sure about, and the feeling of your breath coming and going, as slow as you can possibly summon it without passing out. 

Spencer is laughing at something JJ is saying as she stands next to the couch with Will and you really like JJ but her voice seems so loud right now, and nothing is going particularly wrong but everything feels so, so wrong it’s scary. 

All the buzzing tension in your body telling you to run away because you’re unsafe and at the same time locking you into place builds until you have to express it somehow. So you revert to an old habit—bouncing your leg rapidly like a rabbit thumping its foot. It’s not entirely conscious, but it feels better than being completely still. That is, until Spencer’s hand strays inward and cups just above your inner knee, where he begins fanning his thumb back and forth over the fabric. 

“What’s this?” he murmurs, head angled toward you and voice low enough to not draw attention. You force yourself to plant your heel to the ground even though it worsens the feeling of gears crunching in your chest. 

“Nothing. Sorry.”

That gets his attention. 

Because of course it does. He’s always telling you to stop saying sorry so often. 

His tone solidifies, still quiet but committed to this conversation now and no longer the whispery apparition of a quick aside. 

“Why are you sorry?” 

“I don’t know, it wasn’t—it’s nothing.”

You barely avoid apologizing again. 

For a moment he doesn’t speak, just watches you—and you make the mistake of raising your gaze to meet his. He has that curious, analytical look about him, concern tightening his eyes and knitting his brow. He’s doing that annoying mind-reading thing again, and as soon as he actually sees your eyes, he’s figured you out. 

“Do you want to go outside for a minute? Get some air?”

After examining his face for any clues that he’d rather stay in here, (not that you’d really know what to look for), you nod hesitantly. Spencer mirrors your nod and stands, holding out his hand for you to take as you follow suit after setting your drink on a side table (without spilling.)

JJ is now wrapped up in conversation with another agent and the two of you manage to abscond without attracting unwanted attention, which makes you feel slightly better as Spencer leads you deftly through rooms with high-vaulted ceilings and big windows and heavy, expensive looking oak furniture. It seems like you’ve been wandering through a maze when you arrive to a quieter part of the house and he opens a french door for you—which leads out onto an empty patio. 

A cool breeze immediately sinks into your skin, and your nervous system is so hyper-alert that it gives you chills. Spencer notices the way you shiver and steps closer after closing the door behind him, his hand finding the small of your back immediately. 

“You okay?” he asks, intentionally avoiding impeding your view of the sweeping backyard and the trees beyond. Sometimes focusing on something stationary is less overwhelming, but they’re so tall they seem imposing. Threatening, even. 

But then again, everything feels threatening right now. 

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

Spencer seems unconvinced by your monotone—when you glance over at him he’s still watching you like you’re a puzzle to be solved. 

“Are you sure? You can tell me if you’re not.”

“Why are you so convinced something is wrong?” you laugh, but it comes out too manic. You cross your arms. He looks pointedly at the motion. 

“For starters, that. Often times crossing your arms is a subconscious way of comforting yourself when you feel defensive or threatened. And you could say it’s because you’re cold, but—” he pauses, reaching out to touch your cheek. “I can feel how hot your face is, and you shivered when we came outside even though it’s 71 degrees because your nervous system is overreacting to external stimuli. The leg-bouncing is also often indicative of an activated parasympathetic nervous system. Is me touching you okay?”

Again, you nod—unsure how to deflect when he calls you out so efficiently. 

Spencer’s hand slides down to just beneath your jaw, where he rests two fingers. Each second that passes has him looking progressively more worried. You wish you weren’t quite so catatonic—the fairy lights hanging from the pergola shine through his hair and make him glow so appealingly you want to kiss his cheek. 

“Your heart rate is really high, honey.”

That would be due to the sense of impending doom. Thanks for pointing it out.

But you’ve lost your words, and along with them has gone your sense of humor. All you can manage for a 30 second span is a meaningless shake of your head as you avert your eyes, staring at the sprawling carpet of blue-green grass soaked in night as each blade doubles with your tears. 

“I think I’m dying,” you finally croak.

“Technically, we all are. Very slowly.”

Ah. There’s that social tact he’s so well known for. 

“Spencer.”

“Right,” he kisses your cheek as you stare up at him, affronted, and pulls you into his chest. “Sorry. I was actually trying to be helpful. Changes in brain chemistry and hormonal activity associated with panic attacks change your perception of time and make things feel really fast which can contribute to feelings of anxiety. But in reality time is moving just the same as it always is. One second is always one second. Sometimes remembering that helps me to slow down. Not literally, of course. My gravitational pull isn’t great enough to have any discernible effect on the passage of time.”

You sniff, pressing your cheek to his tie. His words make your head spin, seeing as you hadn't been prepared for a lecture in psychophysics—but it spins in the opposite direction than it had been going previously. It's nice.

“Change your perception of time?”

“Weber’s law of perception. Stimulus sensitivity will increase proportionally with increased stimulus intensity. You’re only perceiving time to be going faster because your cortisol and adrenaline levels are making you hyper-vigilant and sensitive to all the markers of time passing.”

“Like what?”

Spencer hums, the bass of it a comforting resonance against your ear, and strokes your hair unhurriedly. 

“Like… your internal clock. Your body measures time with your heartbeat, so when your heart rate increases, time seems to go faster. Also environmental cues, which lead you to understand that the world is not stagnant and thus is not frozen in time. Like the sound of the wind chimes…” he pauses, long enough for you to realize that indeed, you can hear the gentle, sonorous ringing and tinkling of steel chimes bouncing against each other. “And the wind itself, which is coming all the way from the Gulf of Mexico. Some studies actually suggest that wind direction can affect your energy levels and mood.”

It’s a gentle breeze more than it is full-blown wind. It feels cool against your hot skin. 

Spencer’s hand on the back of your head, still rhythmically smoothing your hair, seems to slow down the passage of time as well. You focus on that, and the sound of the wind chimes and the breeze on your skin for a few minutes, until your breathing and your heart rate slow and soon you regain your footing in the temporal dimension, exactly sure of where you stand on Rossi’s patio and in your boyfriend’s arms. 

“You tricked me into doing a grounding exercise,” you mumble into Spencer’s jacket. 

“I did not trick you,” he defends, voice quiet to match yours. “I just wanted to make you feel better. Did it work?”

You pull away from him and he lets you, watching on as you sniffle and wipe your tears on your sleeves. 

“Yeah, it did. Thank you.”

For a moment, neither of you speak as you gather yourself. He leads you by the hand to a cushioned hanging bench at the end of the patio, taking a seat next to you and gently rocking the swing. 

“Do you know what triggered that?” Spencer asks, over the gentle creaking sound. You shrug, observing the dance of the fireflies in the grass. 

“Nothing. Sometimes I just feel like everything’s wrong and scary but I didn’t want to tell you and ruin your night.”

“Hey,” Spencer murmurs, pulling you into him with an arm around your shoulder. “You are not ruining my night. I don’t want you to worry about that.”

“But all your friends and coworkers are inside, and you’re out here with me.”

He angles his head down toward you and you look up to meet his eyes, even warmer than the sticky summer night. 

“I am. Do you know why?”

“Because I suck,” you sniffle, more hot tears rolling down your cheeks as you attempt to look away. But Spencer’s not having it. He encourages you to sit up again so you can look at him properly, before wiping tears away gently with his thumb. When he speaks, it’s in soft, soothing tones. 

“No. I’m out here because if all my friends were inside having fun, and you were outside having a panic attack, I would choose you every time.”

You manage a laugh through the crying. 

“I don’t know if that’s healthy.”

“Whether or not it’s healthy is an entirely different discussion,” Spencer smiles wryly, before it melts into something softer and more sincere. “All that matters is that it’s true.”

For a while after that, you simply lay your head on his shoulder. Spencer controls the speed of the swing with his much-longer legs, kissing your head and rubbing your arm as you admire the expanse of Rossi’s lush yard bathed in moonlight and the black silhouette of the forest beyond. 

Eventually, Spencer speaks again, likely to make sure you’re not spiraling alone in your head. 

“Can I tell you an extremely classified secret that I've been trying really hard to keep to myself for three days?” he asks, and the mischievous edge to his voice catches your attention. You hum in assent, already wondering what kind of information Spencer would have a hard time keeping to himself. It could be anything. 

“Anderson is sleeping with Childers from Operational Tech.”

“What?”

Despite not working for the FBI yourself, Spencer and Penelope have you so filled in on the drama that you know exactly why that’s shocking. 

You pick your head up to look at him like do not fuck with me right now. 

His eyes sparkle as he nods.

“Yep.”

“Didn’t you tell me Childers was dating that girl in sex crimes?”

Spencer raises his eyebrows. The corner of his mouth twitches. You gasp. 

“No! What? Does Anderson know?”

“I don’t know. I certainly didn’t want to be the one to tell him.”

“Wait—Anderson told you this?”

“Yeah!” He laughs incredulously at your complete disbelief. “People tell me things! I’m an excellent confidant!”

“If you’re relaying all of this information to me then you’re a terrible confidant,” you chuckle, still watery—but feeling light years better. 

Spencer brushes your hair away from your face fondly, leaning a fraction of an inch closer. 

“You don’t count. Telling you secrets is basically the same as keeping them to myself.”

“Basically,” you tease, angling your head up by a few degrees in invitation. Spencer says nothing, does nothing for a long moment—just studies you with soft eyes, continues stroking your cheek. When he takes too long to kiss you, you get impatient. “I’m still kinda anxious, you know.”

He smiles knowingly.  

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you nod, looking pointedly at his lips. “You should kiss me better.”

“I think that would take more than just one kiss,” he murmurs through a smile, leaning ever closer until your noses are bumping. “I think I would have to devote several hours to that. Maybe even a whole day.”

“How does tomorrow look for you?” 

He’s laughing as he finally presses his lips to yours. The kiss is sweet and lingering. 

“For you? It’s wide open.”

[rynbutt-deactivated20250801]

safe. | spencer reid.

You were pregnant but JJ had just left the team and they needed you. You hadn't told anyone; you hadn't even told Spencer.

my masterlist!

cw: fem!reader, pregnant!reader, guns, violence, mentions of murder, mentions of drugs (antidepressants and opioids), mentions of car accident, gunshot wounds, death of pregnant woman, general criminal minds themes.

wc: 6.2k

a/n: bruh this was a looooong one! dw some banging smut coming in the next one with post-prison reid >:3

now playing... Fare Well by Hozier

This was really starting to piss you off.

You fell to your knees as bile pushed up your throat, your skin paling as you vomited for the third time today. You tried to keep something, anything, down but you would just wind up curled in on yourself and sweating in the corner of the bathroom stall. You ate a couple of crackers and sipped on water to keep your empty stomach satiated– But you always ended up right back here on the bathroom floor with your head between your knees trying to will the pain away.

Emily noticed your pale complexion and how exhausted you looked, offering to get you some medicine or ask Hotch about sitting out of the next few cases. You told her you were fine, that it was just stress. That answer seemed to satisfy her enough, though she wasn’t fully convinced. To be fair, your workload had increased tenfold since JJ was forced to accept the job at the Pentagon, and you missed her terribly but you were proud of her. But you really could have used her advice right about now.

Because you swore this baby had it out for you.

You found out you were pregnant just over a week ago and you still hadn’t told Spencer. You were still wrapping your head around the whole thing because initially, you didn’t think you were pregnant, you just thought your body was dealing with the stress and workload in, frankly, a bizarre way. Hotch had wanted you to take over doing JJ’s job as communication liaison, which were rather important shoes to fill. He had total faith in your ability to do JJ’s job as well as do your own as a profiler, but you weren’t so sure anymore. 

You would tell Spencer when you were ready and right now was not a good time. Everyone was surviving on four hours of sleep a night, far too many cups of coffee and sheer willpower. The absolute last thing they needed was to lose another team member. So you soldiered on like a champion– a champion who still held her head over the bureau’s less than impressive toilet while she threw her guts up.

“Y/N?” You didn’t even hear the bathroom door open, the ringing rattling around your skull distracting you from your surroundings. Penelope’s heels clicked against the tiles as she cautiously peered around the wall of the last stall where you kneeled on the ground. “Oh my god, sweet thing! What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine, Pen,” your voice was hoarse when you finally replied. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and tried to smooth your hair down, attempting to look at least semi-presentable before you left the bathroom to pretend everything was okay.

“No, no, my girl, you are not fine!” Penelope stood in behind you, pulling your hair out of your face as you vomited the last remnant of your soul into the toilet. “You need to talk to Hotch, you’ve got a bug or something, my dear. You shouldn’t even be at work when you’re this sick, let me talk to him for you and you just go home–”

“I’m not sick, Penelope!” You didn’t mean to shout at her, you really didn’t, you just felt awful and felt like a shell of yourself with how poorly you’d been sleeping and eating paired with all the stress of doing JJ’s job as well as your own. It was just a lot.

Penelope went quiet but stayed close to you, still holding your hair as you sat back on your heels, running your hands down your face. She let out a soft sigh, knowing you didn’t mean to shout at her. Penelope was stressed too– everyone was.

“I’m sorry, Pen,” you mumbled, your throat hurting from all the vomiting and coughing you’d managed to do today– it had to be a record honestly. 

Penelope just shook her head at you, reaching her hand out toward you, “you don’t have to apologise, sweet girl, I know you’ve got a lot on your plate.” You shook your head, you still felt bad and shouting at sweet Penelope was not the way to deal with all the emotions swirling around in your head.

“It’s not fair,” you replied as she helped you to your feet, gently guiding you over to the basin to help you clean yourself up. “You’re stressed too, I didn’t mean to yell.”

Penelope brushed some of your hair out of your face, her gaze narrowing as she watched you, waiting for you to tell her what was going on. It never came and she knew she would have to push you a little. Penelope thought it was necessary though because seeing you like this was awful and she couldn’t even imagine how Spencer would react if he knew how sick you were.

“What’s going on?” Penelope’s voice was soft; gentle, just trying to get you to talk so she could help. You were stubborn when it came to asking for help and by the time you did, you had hurt yourself more than necessary trying to solve it yourself. Not this time though– Penelope refused.

“I’m okay–” you looked at Penelope and she raised her brows at you, not accepting that answer in the slightest. You sighed, knowing this is a fight you wouldn’t win. “I’m pregnant.”

Penelope’s jaw nearly hit the floor. She knew something was up with you but pregnant? That was not on this year's bingo card. “What?? Y/N that’s–” she gauged your expression and she really couldn’t tell if you were upset or happy about being pregnant. She cut herself off before she finished her sentence, pulling her lips into a line. “Are we happy about this news or are we…?”

“We’re…” you were happy. Honestly, you were. You and Spencer had talked about having kids one day, ideally after you were married but that didn’t seem to be going to plan. You’d been with Spencer for three years, in the BAU for four, it’s not like your relationship was new or in the honeymoon phase, it just wasn’t the original plan and that scared the hell out of you. But you were happy to be carrying his child– the timing was just piss poor. “We’re happy… just scared.”

“Oh, baby,” Penelope cooed. “Of course you’re scared, it’s a huge adjustment. But I know you and I know Spencer, you guys will nail this parenting business.” Penelope managed to prove time and time again why she was your best friend. You often wondered if she knew you better than you knew yourself, which wouldn’t really surprise you given her job.

“I hope so.” You smiled softly, feeling somewhat human again after splashing water on your face and washing your hands. You knew Spencer would be a good dad, he was so good with kids and he was so gentle and patient with you. He was meant to be a dad. You just weren’t sure if you were meant to be a mother. You wanted to be a family with Spencer, it made you feel warm just thinking about it, but you were a person who worried about almost everything, even the things out of your control. What scared you was how in control you were. 

“I’m surprised Spencer hasn’t told everyone, that boy is obsessed with you and you’re making him a dad? God, it must be killing him sitting on this–” Penelope suddenly looked at you wide-eyed, connecting the dots all on her own. You winced as you watched her figure it out, gritting your teeth as she let out a soft gasp. “You haven’t told him?!”

You covered your face with your hands, letting out a muffled squeal of frustration into your palms. You would tell him eventually, just not right now, he was far too busy and was already stressing about his own workload, you couldn’t imagine how much more stressed he would be if he found out you were still in the field while pregnant.

“Pen, please,” you turned to her, “please keep this to yourself. I– We can’t deal with this right now. JJ’s gone and everyone is worked to the bone, I can’t do this to everyone right now, especially Spencer.” Penelope looked at you sympathetically, you knew you were asking a lot of her to keep it to herself, especially when Penelope wasn’t great at keeping secrets.

“Y/N, sweetie, you’re going to have to tell them eventually– You’re an FBI Agent. Being in the field is so dangerous and you don’t just have yourself to think about anymore.” You knew Penelope was right. You carried a gun around for Christ’s sake, you literally hunted down serial killers, active shooters, total psychopaths and everything in between. The field was no place for a pregnant woman. 

“I know, I know,” you sighed, resting both of your hands on the basin in front of you.

“...How far along are you?”

“Twelve weeks,” you said softly, resting your hand against your belly. You didn’t have much of a bump yet but you were sure it would sneak up on you before you even realised. Lucky for you, you wore a lot of baggy sweaters around the office so you had some wriggle room when it came to hiding it.

“...My money’s on a girl,” Penelope was trying to make you feel better. She really was helping because the idea of Spencer hosting tea parties, getting covered in kitten stickers and his hair being covered in tiny butterfly clips made your heart swell.

You let out a soft laugh, “I think so too.”

“Alright, my love, I think we should leave this bathroom before they send out a search party,” Penelope laughed, linking her arm with yours to guide you out of the bathroom. 

You honestly did feel better after talking to Penelope and throwing the rest of your guts up. She made sure to remind you about ten times to call her if you needed anything, you promised you would because it did make you feel better knowing that someone knew about your pregnancy and you didn’t have to bear the weight of the news alone.

You sat down at your desk with a sigh, sipping on your water bottle to soothe your raw throat. You popped a piece of gum in your mouth, willing the taste of bile away. You let out a huff of air as you stared down at all the paperwork you had to do. Doing JJ’s job proved to be intense, especially when you were doing your own work on top of her’s. You picked up your pen when you felt Spencer press a kiss to the crown of your head as he placed a mug of hot coffee on your desk in front of you.

You smiled, craning your neck to look up at him. Spencer took the opportunity to kiss you softly, one of his hands resting on the side of your desk while the other rested on the back of your chair. You smiled against his lips, “shouldn’t you be working?” You teased.

“Are you trying to get me to go away?” Spencer looked at you curiously. You rolled your eyes playfully because of course you didn’t want him to go away. If anything, you wanted him to pick you up and take you home right this second.

“Yes, Spencer,” you replied sarcastically, “I’m trying to get you to go away.” Spencer wasn’t great with sarcasm but he had come to understand your humour over the years. He just grinned and pressed another kiss to your lips.

“Sarcasm is rooted in truth, angel,” Spencer retorted with a gentle smile. 

“I am joking, but we both have a lot of work to do, Spence. I don’t know how I’m going to manage doing JJ’s job as well as my own,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair.

“There’s a reason Hotch wanted you to do it. I don’t think he could have picked anyone more capable,” Spencer replied. Maybe it was the hormones and the fact you were carrying a baby, but the comment made you want to cry. Spencer frowned as he watched your face fall, “what’s wrong, angel?”

“No, nothing,” You replied, sniffling quietly. You gave him a genuine smile, “I’m fine, Spence. I promise–”

“New case just came in,” Morgan called to the two of you, gesturing toward the meeting room at the back of the office with a manila folder in his hand. 

You looked at Morgan with a confused expression because now it was your job to decide what cases the team took after JJ’s departure. Morgan told you the case went straight to Hotch this time; an old friend had called in a favour. 

Spencer pulled a chair out for you, taking the seat right beside you in the meeting room. You opened the case file the moment Penelope dropped it in front of you.

“The victims are 20-year-old Evan Miller and 21-year-old Daniel Clark, both engineering students at Caltech. They were shot three days apart outside their family homes in the local area of Pasadena, California.” You followed along with Penelope as she gave a run down of the victims and the circumstances of their deaths.

The killings were straightforward, the UnSub didn’t try to dispose of the bodies and the men were simply shot in the head execution style. It didn’t seem like the doings of a serial killer who would usually seek some kind of sexual release from torturing and killing their victims. If anything, it seemed like revenge killings.

“They were just shot?” Emily questioned, eyebrows furrowed as she stared at the crime scene photos. 

“Once in the head,” Hotch replied, “there were no witnesses around which suggests the UnSub knew the routine of the victims and the neighbourhood.”

“Could be a stalker?” Penelope suggested.

“Stalker victims are usually the object of a stalker’s affection, they rarely act in violence let alone such a blunt killing,” You replied, confused by the nature of such a straightforward murder.

Spencer flicked through the victim’s files, “the single shot to the head suggests the UnSub just wanted them dead. No physical evidence of sexual release or torture… This could be some kind of revenge killing.”

“Did these victims know each other?” You asked.

“According to their parents, they came from the same friend group,” Penelope replied. 

“Wheels up in thirty. Garcia, you're coming with us. Get your go bag,” Hotch said, quickly standing up from his chair. Penelope made a small noise of surprise before quickly ushering out of the meeting room. Hotch didn’t usually have Penelope come along but given you were short a very valuable member of your team, Penelope had started coming along more often. Not that you would ever complain having Penelope around. 

You pinned up the last of the crime scene photos on the board, standing back with your hands on your hips. Spencer was writing on the whiteboard next to you, jotting down all the things you knew about the victims and possible motives of the UnSub. Hotch and Morgan were engaging in formalities with the local detectives on the case while Penelope got herself settled in the makeshift office they had set up for the team. 

“The parents of the victims are here,” Emily poked her head into the office. “Y/N, Hotch wants you to talk to Ben and Sarah Miller, I’ve got the Clarks.”

“Alright, I got it,” you replied, letting out a dejected sigh. 

“You okay?” Spencer gently tucked some of your hair behind your ear, turning his full attention to you. You let out another sigh, nodding your head tiredly. “You can do this,” he said quietly, his eyes shifting between yours.

“Yeah, I know,” you smiled softly. Spencer planted a soft kiss on your cheek before leaving the office, leaving Spencer and Penelope alone. 

“...I think she needs a break,” Penelope said after a beat. 

Spencer looked at her, eyebrows furrowed, “what makes you say that?”

Penelope tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, “she’s doing JJ’s job and her own. I mean, I think she’s the right girl for the job but… you know what she’s like.”

Spencer sighed, he knew exactly what you were like. You always held yourself and your work to such a high standard and you often overworked yourself to make everyone happy. “Yeah, I know. I’ll talk to her when we get back to the hotel.”

“I think that’s a great idea, lover boy,” Penelope grinned.

You opened the office door, files in hand. Mr and Mrs Miller immediately stood up as you entered and you gave them a sympathetic smile. Mrs Miller had clearly been crying, still clutching a tissue in her hand while her husband paced around the office.

“Please, have a seat, Mr Miller,” you said gently.

“I’ll stand,” he replied firmly. You decided not to argue and sat down on the chair opposite the couch where Mrs Miller sat.

“Mrs Miller, I’m Agent L/N, I’m with the Behavioural Analysis Unit in the FBI–”

“FBI?” She questioned. “Was Evan in trouble?”

“We suspect he and his friend Daniel were killed by the same person,” you explained. Mrs Miller let out a soft gasp, her hand coming to rest over her mouth. 

“Is it alright if I ask you a few questions about Evan?” You asked. Sarah didn’t say anything but she nodded her head, fresh tears forming in her eyes. “Daniel and Evan knew each other, right?”

“They went to high school together,” Sarah replied, her voice shaking. “They were so excited when they both got into Caltech,” she smiled sadly, fresh tears streaming down her face.

“Do you have any idea who killed our son?” Ben asked, his voice sounding angry.

“That’s what we’re here for,” you said, “we’re here to find who killed your son and why–”

“‘Why”?” Ben repeated, “he was just a kid.”

You sighed softly, “I understand that, sir. We’re just trying to figure out a possible connection.”

“Evan and Daniel were good kids. They would never hurt a fly,” Sarah frowned, sniffling softly as she began crying again. 

“Did Daniel and Evan hang around the same social groups?” You asked, turning your attention to Mr Miller, who was still pacing around the office with his arms crossed. “Maybe in some kind of extracurricular activities?”

“They were both on the college basketball team,” Ben said after a beat. “Why? You think this asshole is going to kill more of these kids?”

“I am just trying to get an idea of the social groups Evan and Daniel were a part of,” you didn’t want to get into the gory details of why you were asking such questions and decided they were both far too emotional for you to keep asking them questions; you would let Hotch handle it. “I need to speak with my team but I’ll be right outside if you need anything.” You rested a hand on Mrs Miller’s shoulder and you couldn’t shake how much you missed JJ doing this part.

You let out a sigh as you left the office, rubbing the tension in the back of your neck. You slowly walked over to Hotch, “Evan was on the Caltech Basketball team, he and Daniel went to high school together and Evan’s parents were adamant he was a good kid. I think he was a good kid, just got involved with the wrong people.”

Hotch let out a breath, “I want you and Prentiss to go to the school, talk to the faculty, basketball team coach, anything you can get.”

You nodded, gesturing to Emily on the other side of the bullpen. She firmly nodded at you and the two of you left for the school.

The team worked the case for two days before another body showed up. Everyone was starting early and finishing late to find the person who was doing this and you worked closely with the detectives and other officers on the case. Hotch gave the profile as soon as the team was certain but given the demographic of the suburban areas he was targeting these boys, it was rather unremarkable. The third body belonged to 21-year-old Oliver Marsh, another Caltech student studying Physics. He was shot once in the head while walking his dog no further than a block from his house. 

You stood in the middle of Oliver’s bedroom staring at the posters and certificates that littered his walls. Spencer rifled through papers on his desk, mostly finding papers related to physics journals and essays for school. Emily and David were downstairs talking to the parents while Hotch and Morgan went to see the crime scene.

You walked over to his bedside table pulling it open. There were a lot of birthday cards and a game boy but what caught your attention was the little clear yellow bottles with white caps. You lifted the first bottle out, reading the label–

“Oliver was taking Oxycodone,” you said softly, catching Spencer’s attention. “...And Escitalopram,” you spun on your heel, showing Spencer the two bottles. Spencer took the bottles from your hands, eyebrows furrowed as he carefully read the labels. “Chronic pain?” you suggested.

“Could be,” Spencer replied. “He could have been taking non-steroidal anti-inflammatories too, they’re typically over the counter.”

You rifled through the drawer again, pulling out a blue box, “Yeah, he was taking Ibuprofen too.”

“We should talk to the parents,” Spencer said. You nodded and the two of you ushered down the stairs to where his parents sat in the living room with David and Emily. “Was Oliver suffering from chronic pain?” Spencer quickly questioned before he even fully made it into the living room.

Oliver’s mother held a tissue to her nose, glancing at Emily with a confused expression. You put your hand on Spencer’s bicep, “Has Oliver injured himself recently? Maybe a fall or injury while playing sports?”

Oliver’s father shook his head, “No, not recently. He’s been on those antidepressants for a few years and takes the codeine when he has– had flare-ups.”

“Flare-ups?” David asked pointedly.

“He was in a car accident four years ago,” Mrs Marsh said, “He was in the passenger seat and was in a coma for two weeks… he hadn’t really been the same after that, got really sad and antisocial… he was in a lot of pain too.”

“He had to stop playing Football and running track, his body just couldn’t keep up,” Mr Marsh added, his eyes glazing over. “He lost a lot of friends, I don’t think I ever saw him hang out with anyone, Physics became everything to him.”

“Do you have evidence of his medical records anywhere?” Spencer asked. “Just so I can look them over.”

“Uh, yeah, of course,” Mrs Marsh stood up, Spencer following her to their home office on the other side of the house.

You sat down across from Mr Marsh, “The accident he was in,” you started, “what happened?”

He looked at you with a pain in his eyes, “He was in the car with some of his friends and they were driving home from a party and it was late. I think they were all…” he hesitated for a moment, “they were all drunk.”

“Who was in the car?” Emily asked, not liking where this was going.

“...Evan Miller and Daniel Clark,” his father began to cry, holding his hand over his mouth. You felt your eyes widen, this was a revenge killing.

“Who was driving, Mr Marsh?” David asked quickly.

“Um, god–” He sniffled softly, “Peter… Peter something, he was older than them, I really don’t remember.”

“Thank you, Mr Marsh,” You stood up, quickly moving to the front door to call Penelope. You pulled out your phone, dialling her number. She picked up after the first ring.

“How may I be of service, oh queen of my country?” she sang, her fingers typing furiously against her keyboard. 

“I need you to look into an accident for me, four years ago,” you said with your hand on your hip. “Oliver Marsh, Daniel Clark and Evan Miller were all in the accident too. See if you can find newspaper articles, news segments, anything– I think we know who the last target is.”

“Right, give me a moment,” Penelope replied. You heard her typing before she stopped, “Oh no…” she mumbled softly.

“What’s wrong, Pen?” You furrowed your brows.

“Peter Harvey,” Penelope sighed, “he’s the last boy… He was driving with three other high school boys; Oliver, Daniel and Evan when they struck an oncoming car and killed a pregnant woman on impact; her husband walked away without a scratch.”

“Shit.” You cursed, “What’s his name?”

“Jonathan Hughes, his wife was Katherine… she was 8 months pregnant, Y/N.” Penelope sounded so pained and you knew she was thinking of you and the small baby you were carrying. “Y/N…”

“I know, Pen… After this case wraps up… I’ll tell everyone,” you replied with a gentle sigh.

“And you’ll take time off?” Penelope sounded like she was lecturing you.

You smiled to yourself, “Yeah, Penelope. I’ll take some time off.”

“Okay… I’ll send Hotch and Morgan Jonathan’s last known address, I’m sending you Peter Harvey’s address–”

Your phone beeped as Penelope sent the address through. “Where would I be without you, Pen?”

“Nowhere good, my love,” you could hear the smile in her voice. You quickly hung up before walking back into the Marsh’s house. 

Emily and David turned to look at you, “We’ve got him.”

“Alright, you guys go, I’ll grab Reid and we’ll be right behind you,” David waved you off and Emily quickly ushered the two of you to the car. 

Emily was speeding toward the address Penelope had given you while you called Hotch and Morgan, filling them in on all the information Penelope had given you. They agreed to go to Jonathan’s address to hopefully intersect him before he left for Peter Harvey. You were always nervous when it came to these parts of the case because you couldn’t control the outcome no matter how hard you tried. A grieving man was going around killing these young men and while it was awful what he was doing; you could sympathise with him and the pain he was feeling over losing his wife and unborn child. 

You instinctively rested a hand over your belly, your thumb stroking the small curve. You couldn’t even imagine how much pain Spencer would be in if he lost you, let alone your child too. You would tell him and you would ask Hotch about taking some time off later in your pregnancy and sitting out of cases like this. 

“Shit he’s already here,” Emily cursed when she noticed Jonathan’s SUV parked a couple of blocks from Peter’s address. “Call Hotch.”

You dialled Hotch’s number and he picked up almost instantly, “What is it, L/N?”

“He’s already here, his SUV is parked a couple blocks down from Peter’s address. He’s already out looking for him,” You quickly said.

“We’re on our way, units are already on route,” he hung up after that. 

Emily pulled the car up on the gutter, the car skidding to a stop. You immediately pushed the door open, holding your gun by your thigh as you ran across the lawn to Peter Harvey’s house. You knocked on the door and a woman answered after a beat.

“Mrs Harvey?” You asked, panting softly.

“Yes?”

“Is your son Peter here?”

“No, he went to the store down the street an hour ago, he should be back soon… What is this about?” She asked, her hand gripping the door in concern.

“We believe someone dangerous may be looking for your son,” Emily said. Mrs Harvey rested her hand over her mouth, a soft gasp leaving her lips.

“Mom?” You spun around and Peter stood with a plastic bag of groceries in his hand in the middle of the lawn.

It all happened almost in slow motion. You saw a figure wearing dark clothes stalking across the lawn and without even thinking, you darted toward Peter as the UnSub pulled the gun out of his coat, aiming it straight at Peter’s head. You could hear Emily yelling at Mrs Harvey to go back inside before she pulled out her gun and aimed it at the UnSub; but it was too late.

You shoved Peter to the ground as he fired, feeling the shot burn through your shoulder as both you and Peter fell to the ground. You instinctively pressed a hand to your burning shoulder, warm blood oozing from the wound and through your fingers. 

“Jonathan Hughes?” You said, your breathing heavy as you tried to fight through the pain. He held his gun right in front of your face.

“Move,” he grunted, his eyes glassy.

“I know what happened to your wife,” you breathed trying to stall him as more police cars with blaring sirens pulled into the street.

“They killed her,” tears streamed down his face and you honestly felt bad for him. 

“It was an accident,” you replied softly.

“They were drunk,” he almost yelled, his hand shaking as his gun was still trained on you.

“I know,” you said, “It was a stupid mistake that haunted them, Jonathan. I know it doesn’t change what happened but these boys–”

“They’re monsters!” he shouted, hot tears streaming down his cheeks.

You saw David and Spencer get out of the car. Spencer’s heart was in his throat when he saw you kneeled on the ground, shielding Peter with your body while your hand and shirt were covered in your own blood. He didn’t even pick up his gun as he began stalking toward you.

“Y/N?” His voice was soft when he called you at first, then it turned to outright concern and anger, “Y/N? No, no!”

David grabbed Spencer’s arm, pulling him back as Spencer fought against him, trying to get to you. It was irrational and it was dangerous. David quickly picked up his walkie, “An agent has been shot, we need an ambulance.”

“Who was shot?!” Penelope’s voice rang out in the car as she spoke to Morgan and Hotch.

“I repeat, agent L/N is shot, we need an ambulance,” David spoke before putting his walkie away to hold Spencer back, pulling him to the ground.

“Morgan! Oh my god!” Penelope felt tears form in her eyes.

“It’s okay, babygirl, she’s going to be alright,” Morgan said, trying to reassure her as Hotch stepped on the accelerator. 

“No, Morgan, you don’t understand–”

“We’re going to get an ambulance–”

“She’s pregnant!” Penelope blurted out, not knowing what else to say for them to understand the gravity of why Penelope was so upset and concerned. 

Hotch hesitated for a moment, “She’s what?”

Penelope let out a shaky breath, “she’s twelve weeks pregnant, Hotch. She wasn’t going to tell anyone until after the case– and now she’s been shot.” Penelope began to cry, holding her hand over her mouth as tears slipped from her eyes.

Hotch hadn’t sped that fast since he found out Foyet was in his house. He cared about his team a lot and he had a soft spot for you even though he wouldn’t admit it. The tires skidded along the road as Hotch pulled on the handbrake, both him and Morgan training their guns on the UnSub as they approached.

Morgan’s heart hurt at the sight of you, your skin slightly paled as blood bloomed from your shoulder, drenching your arm and your hands. You looked so scared as the UnSub trained his gun on you, unmoving. Emily had her gun aimed at the UnSub, yelling for him to put it down.

“Jonathan Hughes!” Morgan’s voice caught your attention. “Put down the gun!”

“Don’t move!” Jonathan shouted, “I’ll shoot her!”

“No you won’t, man,” Morgan shook his head.

“How do you know that!? She’s in my way!” He shouted back.

“She’s pregnant,” Morgan sighed. Your eyes widened as you looked at Morgan, who looked back at you with a sad expression. 

Spencer stopped fighting against David, his breathing evening out as the words fell on his ears. You were pregnant. You were carrying his baby and you got shot and now you had a gun held up in front of your face. Spencer didn’t even realise he was crying, his tears cold against his warm skin. All he could do was watch, there was nothing he could do.

Jonathan glanced at you as you held your hand over your belly. “W-What?”

Morgan reached a hand out as he got closer. “Just like your wife, Jonathan… You wouldn’t kill a pregnant woman like those boys did.” 

Jonathan seemed to dissociate, staring at you with such a hurt expression as Morgan leapt forward, grabbing the gun from Jonathan’s hands and tossing it across the grass. He pushed Jonathan to the ground, pinning his hands behind his back. You let out a breath as you felt yourself grow tired. Emily caught you before you fell the rest of the way to the ground, holding you close to her body as she screamed for a medic. 

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Emily gently rocked you, “you’re going to be fine.”

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, tears running down your cheeks.

Your eyes were heavy as you attempted to pry them open.

You let out a shaky breath as you finally pulled your eyes open, the smell of disinfectant hit you first, followed by the sounds of beeping. You were in the hospital. You glanced down at your arm, an IV stuck in your arm while a pulse oximeter was clipped to your finger. Despite the fact the doctor had prescribed pain medication, you still felt like shit and your shoulder was killing you.

A soft noise caught your attention and you glanced at the chair next to your bed, Spencer sound asleep in a chair with a hospital blanket draped over him. You smiled softly as you saw the flowers, balloons and plushies littered around your room, most likely a courtesy of Penelope.

“She’s awake,” Morgan smiled, standing in the doorway. 

You grinned at him, “Hi, Derek.”

Morgan slowly walked over to your bed. “Feeling okay, pretty girl?” Morgan gently grabbed your hand, giving it a soft squeeze.

“I’m okay,” you replied. You almost didn’t want to ask but you knew you had to, “...is the baby okay?”

“Your baby is fine,” Morgan replied with a soft smile. You let out a breath of relief as you placed a hand over your tummy protectively. “...You scared the life out of everyone though.”

“I know,” you sighed.

“Especially your lover boy,” Morgan said, “he hasn’t left your side.”

“Sounds like my Spencer,” you laughed softly. 

“Y/N?” Spencer’s voice was laced with sleep as he opened his eyes. He quickly got up, ditching the blanket on the floor to tend to you.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Morgan quickly said before leaving the room.

Spencer’s warm hands cupped your face as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I thought I lost you, Y/N.” He let out a breath, pulling away to stare at your face and stroke your cheeks with his thumbs. You reached a hand up to grip his forearm.

“I’m sorry–”

“You don’t need to–”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Tears formed in your eyes as you stared up at him, searching for any kind of anger or resentment. There wasn’t any, he could never be mad at you.

“I wouldn’t have let you come on the case,” he replied after a beat. “I wouldn’t have let you leave the house.”

“That’s why I didn’t tell you… I knew you would be protective– more protective,” you corrected with a soft smile. 

“I’m aware,” Spencer pulled his lips into a tight smile. “You know the odds of… complications are higher in the first trimester, angel. You should have told me,” he frowned.

“I know, Spence,” you sighed. “I just wanted to make sure I was in the clear before I told you… I understand being shot isn’t necessarily helping with that but–”

“I understand,” he replied. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

You stared at him for a moment, “are you happy?”

“Happy?”

“That I’m pregnant? I know we’re not married and our jobs are crazy but–”

Spencer cut you off by pressing a kiss to your lips, he pulled away slightly, “I’ve never been more happy,” he whispered.

You beamed with happiness, a bright smile tugging on your lips. Spencer hesitantly pressed a hand to your belly, his thumb stroking your tiny bump.

“Penelope thinks it’s a girl,” you muttered.

“...What do you think?” He asked curiously.

“I think she might be right,” you giggled softly.

“You know you can’t actually tell yet,” Spencer said and you rolled your eyes playfully.

“You asked what I thought!” you retorted.

He laughed softly, “Yes, you’re right, you’re right.”

“Mmm, did that taste like poison to admit?”

“Are gunshot victims supposed to be this mouthy?”

a/n: phew! i hope you guys liked it <3 i know i disappeared for a hot minute but here she is!!!