jj flowers

All That Matters

A/N: Okay all my works have been angst (with the exception of crack fics), so I feel the need to write some cute ass fluffy shit so I can prove to everyone that my heart isn’t a black chasm of nothing. 

Description: Everything begins to fall apart for Spencer and Y/N’s wedding day and they calm each other down.

Originally posted by sweetg


“It’s all ruined! Ruined I say!” Penelope screamed running into the room.

“What – what happened?!” you panicked.

“The flower arrangements got shipped to the wrong address, the minister is stuck in traffic, and Spencer’s pants!” she exclaimed breathlessly.

“Spencer’s pants?” JJ, your maid of honor, asked.

“He decided to go take a little walk outside –

“In the rain?” Emily cut her off.

“Yes…. And anyway, he tripped over some rocks and now his pants are all wet and muddy,” she explained.

Oh my God, oh my god. You were freaking out. You had been planning this day for two whole years and it had already gone to shit.

“No, no, no,” you paced back and forth.

JJ got up to comfort you, and Penelope started to pour a drink into a glass.

“Y/N, listen it’s okay. We’ll run to the store, get Spencer some pants. The minister is on his way and that’s what’s important,” she said softly as she rubbed your back.

“And the flowers?” you demanded.

“I don’t know……” JJ mumbled.

“WELL HOW AM I GONNA HAVE A WEDDING WITHOUT FLOWERS, JJ?” you screamed.

JJ jumped up, startled. Emily stared at you wide eyed. And Penelope started approaching you glass in hand.

“Sweetie here, this will calm you down,” she said, holding a glass of red wine in her hand.

“Penny, you’re a lifesaver,” you grabbed the drink from her hand. “Maybe all I need is a little alcohol to unwin-

SHIT! Midsentence your hand slipped, and you’d accidentally poured the drink all over the top half of your dress. The red sunk in between the lace embroidery, and bled into your strapless bra. All that could go wrong had went wrong. You sat yourself down on the white ottoman and wept.

“Y/N, sweetie, I’m so sorry,” Penelope mumbled. She reached for some tissues on the table and began to clean you up.

“Stop….” You muttered. She didn’t hear you. “Oh my fucking god, Penny, stop!” you yelled.

She looked up at you, tears stung at her eyes, “I’m sorry, I was just trying to help,” she sniffed.

“I know, honey. It’s not your fault,” you sighed. “This day just sucks,” you crossed your arms.

Emily walked over to you and touched her hand to your shoulder. “Look, I know everything isn’t going how you thought it would, but think about what matters,” she consoled. “You love Spencer, and he loves you. And one day you guys are going to look back at this day and laugh.”

“Yeah,” you mumbled. “Will you guys excuse me for a moment?” you asked, as you began to leave the room.

JJ ran over to the door and blocked it, Penelope followed. “No, no you are not going to get cold feet right now!” JJ scolded.

“We aren’t going to let you hurt Spencer like this!” Penelope added.

“Guys, relax. I’m just going to talk to Spence,” you explained.

JJ and Penelope exchanged a look and nodded. They believed you.

“Very well,” JJ hesitated, walking away from the door.

“And Y/N,” Penelope pointed straight at you. “Don’t you dare let him see you,” she warned.

You sighed, she was always one for being superstitious. But you nodded nonetheless for the sake of appeasing her. You opened the door and made your way down a bright hallway. It was honestly beautiful, unlike the deranged bridezilla walking down it. The glimpse you got of yourself in the side mirror was horrendous. All the crying you did reduced you to a panda, your dress looked was stained, and your hair was disheveled from your constant pulling of it.

When you finally made it to Spencer’s dressing room, you extended your arm to knock on it. Before you had the chance, however, Derek stopped you.

“Woah there, Pretty Girl, what do you think you’re doing?” he asked.

“Derek, I just wanna talk to him,” you rolled your eyes. “I’m freaking out, and Spencer is the only thing that will calm me down right now.”

He paused. “Okay fine, just don’t let him see you.”

“You too?” you groaned.

“Pardon?”

“Did Penny make you all superstitious too?”

“Hey, Y/N, it isn’t about superstition, it’s just a wedding tradition,” he defended. “But go ahead and talk to your Pretty Boy, I think he could actually use you too right now.”

“Thanks, Derek,” you smiled.

“I’ll give you two some privacy,” he said, walking out of the hallway.

You waited until Derek was out of the clear before knocking on the door.

“Spence, you there?”

“I think so,” he whimpered.

“How are you doing?” you asked.

“Pretty bad, how about you?”

“I’m not so good either,” you replied. You crouched down so you were now sitting on the ground and hugging your knees. “I thought everything was going to be so perfect you know?”

“Yeah, me too. I ruined my pants,” he commented.

“I heard….but it’s okay. I ruined my dress, so we’re both a mess,” you chuckled slightly.

You heard him laugh as well. “Hey, Y/N, I know neither of us are the superstitious, so do you maybe want to go outside and talk to each other? Away from all this.”

“I’d love that,” you smiled. “I’ll go out the backdoor you can…..

“Window, I’ll go out the window.” He offered.

“Okay, just make sure not to fall down again,” you joked.  

“Damn you, Mrs. Reid,” he retorted.

You laughed again and headed for the backdoor. You looked around every now and then to make sure no one saw you. When you reached the door, you scanned the hallway one last time. No one. Delightful. You opened the door and immediately were greeted by heavy downpour. You squinted slightly to look for Reid. The visibility was so bad you couldn’t see anything within ten feet.

“Y/N, over here!” Spencer called out.

You turned your head around, and saw your soon-to-be husband sitting on a long white bench. You pulled up your dress so you didn’t trip on the steps and walked over.

“You look stunning,” he complimented, standing in front of him now.

“Yeah right,” you scoffed, sitting yourself down. “I look awful.”

“Y/N, you want to talk about awful? Just look at this,” he pointed to his extremely dirty pants.

“We can both be messes together,” you giggled.

“You’re my mess though,” he kissed the top of your head.

You rested your head onto his shoulder and sighed. “I lied to Penny and said I wouldn’t go see you.”

“She would freak if she knew we were here,” Spencer commented.

“Yeah, she would probably be showering us with four leaf clovers, horse shoes, and rabbit feet,” you laughed. “Why are rabbit feet considered lucky anyway? Seems weird as hell.”

Spencer wagged his finger, his classic sign before a rambling session. “The common North American myth originates from the African-American folk spirituality known as hoodoo,” he began. “It’s said that rabbit’s feet are lucky because of their reproductive habits, so carrying a rabbit’s foot was thought to help with fertility.”

“Oh, well we don’t have to worry about that for a while,” you said.

“If Garcia knew about that, I think she would give us rabbit feet non-stop. She always loves a potential godchild to spoil,” he chuckled.

“I can’t wait for that,” you beamed.

“For kids?” he asked.

“All of it. I can’t for us. I can’t wait for us to get married, to have kids, and I can’t wait for us to grow old together,” you answered.

“Me neither, Y/N,” Spencer gushed.

He leaned his forehead into yours and pecked you on the lips.

“Ready to go back inside?” you whispered.

“Absolutely,” he smiled.

You both got up, and held hands. You weren’t freaked out anymore. 

You had Spencer, and that’s the only thing that mattered.

becominglionhearted  asked:

Daddy!Jensen request? How JJ wrapped him around her little finger?

“Justice Jay!” Jensen’s voice boomed throughout the big house. The patter of bare feet sounded against the hardwood of the hall.

“Yeah, Daddy?” She poked her head around the corner into the play room. 

“What is this?” Jensen’s eyes widened as he looked to the wall covered in bright purple scribbles.

“I filled up my colorin’ book.” JJ shrugged.

“You - don’t you have more coloring books, sweetheart? You know you’re not supposed to color anywhere but paper.” Jensen pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“I filled ‘em all up, Daddy. See?” Her small hands flipped through the pages of three coloring books, showing him how they’d all been scratched on with her favorite colors. “Want a drawin’ to take to work with you ta’morrow?” Her bright smile grew as she paged through her favorite princess book. “This one’s the best. I even used green, Daddy!” JJ pointed to the flower leaves.

“I see, sweetie. I see the green. Are you sure you want me to take this one?” He crouched down and held out his hand as she nodded. “You’re positive? You know I’ll have to tear it out of the book, right?” She nodded again and hummed.

“Tha’s okay, Daddy. I wan’ you to have it. I used green like your eyes.” She closed her eyelids and poked her pointer fingers into them. 

“Yeah, yeah you did, didn’t you?” He smiled and ripped the page along the perforated line in the crease. “I love it, pumpkin.” His lips pressed against her temple and she giggled. 

Jensen tucked the page carefully into the folder where he kept his scripts and tucked it into his carry-on. As soon as he got to Vancouver, he pulled it out and carefully hung it on the fridge in his trailer. He had every intention of scolding JJ when he found the crayon on the walls, but the second she smiled up at him, it was like he was right back in that hospital, holding her for the first time, her tiny hand wrapping around his finger, and effectively getting him wrapped around hers. That very first second, that was when it happened. That was when Jensen knew what it meant to truly love someone unconditionally.


Jensen Ackles Headcanon Masterlist


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otasucc  asked:

jjbek pls 👀 👀 👀

bless your heart Lia

  • who hogs the duvet: JJ but only because he sprawls out when he sleeps and the covers get kicked to his side and then off the bed
  • who texts/rings to check how their day is going: JJ because he needs to be up Otabek’s ass all the time
  • who’s the most creative when it comes to gifts: Otabek!! He’ll get JJ something he never expected
  • who gets up first in the morning: Otabek. Morning runs or walks are his favorite bc it’s not too hot and sometimes he likes to watch the sun rise
  • who suggests new things in bed: JJ probably. “Otabek I found a new position” “Ugh”
  • who cries at movies: Otabek he is a true softie
  • who gives unprompted massages: Otabek is really good with his hands
  • who fusses over the other when they’re sick: JJ is always frantically searching for medicine and making soup and making sure Otabek has a lot of tissues
  • who gets jealous easiest: JJ because he needs to be the best and when somebody else is with Otabek he needs to assert his dominance
  • who has the most embarrassing taste in music: JJ likes boy bands
  • who collects something unusual: Otabek collects snowglobes from every new place he goes!
  • who takes the longest to get ready: JJ probably takes near an hour, half of that is a shower and the other half is for hair
  • who is the most tidy and organised: Otabek is a neat freak
  • who gets most excited about the holidays: JJ has to decorate every inch of the apartment/house
  • who is the big spoon/little spoon: JJ is the big spoon and Otabek is the little spoon
  • who gets most competitive when playing games and/or sports: Otabek hates to lose, especially to JJ
  • who starts the most arguments: JJ because he can’t keep his mouth shut
  • who suggests that they buy a pet: JJ suggests that they get a dog. They now have 3
  • what couple traditions they have: They take separate planes to competitions so they don’t jinx each other, they always go to the same restaurant when they get home….
  • what tv shows they watch together: Shameless, Sons of Anarchy, Chopped maybe
  • what other couple they hang out with: Leo and Guang Hong or Seung Gil and Phichit
  • how they spend time together as a couple: Usually taking the dogs on walks together and going grocery shopping together (which is a disaster). They also play video games together a lot
  • who made the first move: JJ probably did some dumb shit like “You look like my next boyfriend”
  • who brings flowers home: JJ always does
  • who is the best cook: Otabek can cook the house down
Happy Valentine’s Day

A/N: I’d love prompts or requests for more stories moving forward!


Your eyes widened as you entered the BAU office and walked to your desk, as you did every morning. Sitting atop your desk was a bouquet of pink and purple orchids- your absolute favorite flower. It was Valentine’s Day, but you hadn’t been on a date in months- since you’d started working for the FBI; if you were being honest, you worked alongside the only guy you’d want to date and he seemed happily oblivious of the fact.

You approached your desk, feeling the eyes of your team on you, and read the card: Happy Valentine’s Day. You’ve brought light and laughter back into life. You noticed there was a letter attached as well, but you slipped it into your bag, knowing the team would be asking questions in a moment. You were right.

They all gathered around your desk in anticipation, but you shrugged your shoulders. You noticed that Reid was getting redder by the second- and you weren’t the only one.

“Got something to do with this, Pretty Boy?” Morgan asked, raising an eyebrow. Instead of answering him, Reid’s eyes widened as if he, the genius, hadn’t thought his plan through and he proceeded to briskly walk away.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Boy Genius sent you those flowers,” JJ smiled.

“And that you have brought light and laughter back into his life,” Garcia swooned, “he has been so much more like himself since you began working here.”

“You going after him, Princess?” Morgan asked, but you were already on your way. You managed to spot Spencer, waiting in front of the elevator doors, impatiently waiting for them to open.

“Hey, Spencer” you greeted, “Happy Valentine’s Day. Thank you for the orchids, they’re my favorite.”

“I know,” he said quietly, “I-I-Did you read the letter yet?”

“Not yet, I didn’t want those vultures to see it existed.”

“Oh,” he looked forlorn.

“Not like that, Spence. I just, wanted whatever you’d written to be just for me.” He looked up finally, surprised. You took the opportunity to kiss him lightly on the lips, causing a reaction of disbelief and joy- like you’d told a kid he was going to Disneyland instead of to take a math test.

With that, you pressed the down button on the panel outside the elevator and it opened immediately. Spencer laughed slightly and stepped in, and you turned on your heels to face the team.

You’d told the team that you had to talk to him- and they’d taken that as you didn’t want to be with him, so they left you both alone for the day. When you finally got home, you took the chance to take his letter from where it was burning a hole in your purse, and read it:

Dear Y/N,

We were in the Library of Congress, and you were incredulous at the rooms our badges got us into. You couldn’t stop spinning around and looking at all the books and sun streaming through the stained glass ceiling, your eyes so wide with the magic of it all. And I couldn’t stop looking at you. I would have followed you off a bridge that day. I would have followed you anywhere, just to hear the wonder in your voice and the way your laugh sounded- just a little too loudly for the library. I knew then that the joy, safety and warmth you have brought me were no longer just feelings of friendship. Just there, when we were in the library, I knew that my heart could be whole again.

I expect nothing in return, but I had to tell you while I have the chance. I love you.

Love,
Spencer

You had tears in your eyes from just those few lines- you remembered that day fondly. Spencer had insisted that he show you around DC, since you’d only been around for about two months at that point and had never really known the beauty of the Capitol. You had had a wonderful time that day, solidifying the feelings of closeness and security Spencer always seemed to bring you in the field.

You knew how guarded he had been from a love and loss before you’d joined the team- and you had felt it dissipating little by little as you’d gotten to know one another better. You were about to call Spencer and tell him you wanted to see him when you heard a knock on your door. You opened it and found Spencer there.

“Y/N, I’m sorry to have put you on the spot like tha…” he started, but you crashed your lips into his before he could say anything else. His arms found their way to your waist and he took a step inside, lips still pressed against yours. You shut the door behind you both and the two of you fell onto the couch clumsily.

“I love you, too” you breathed between kisses, “Happy Valentine’s Day”.

AU: Jandi and JunPyo marriage life.

Jandi makes Coffee for Junpyo every morning. Jun Pyo happily watches his loving wife and they share a quiet intimate mornings together before leaving to their busy work lives.

small fanfic under cut. please excuse every typo spelling mistake and not so well formed sentences. (I was told to make fanfics and I am not the best in grammer xD anywho enjoy)

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Coercion - 9

@coveofmemories @reiding-and-writing @my-xomatosis-s @skeletoresinthebasement @passionate-hedgehog @camigt1999 @eideticenticement @ultrarebelheart

                                                              —-

When you returned upstairs and were back in the presence of those you loved the most, whatever conversation had been taking place cut off and everyone immediately looked in your direction. Looks of pity, understanding, confusion, hatred - were all worn by members of your team. “Are you all good to go now?” Morgan asked hotly. The snark was oozing out of him, and had it not been for Rossi’s words just moments earlier, you were pretty sure you would’ve started crying. You loved everyone everyone on this team more than your own life: it was only because Spencer had been threatened, and you loved him above all else, that you ended up in this position. 

“I’m ready to get to work,” you said flatly, sitting back down in the corner of the room. If no one wanted to be near you then that was his or her prerogative. 

Morgan sat down next to Garcia, who shot you a quick look of ‘you’ll get through this’ before turning to her Sculpted God of Chocolate Thunder. “What do you have on the vacation homes for Ashton, babygirl?”

“How does one person have so much money?” she asked wildly, flailing her hands around as she pulled up Ashton’s vacation homes. “I mean does he literally just buy a multi-million dollar house, spend a week in and then leave? This man has no idea how to spend his money. He should give some to me, I’ll help him out-”

“Garcia,” Hotch said sternly. “What do we have?”

“He’s got a condo in Hong Kong that he’s been to multiple times, mostly just before he was put away. He’s got a house in Thurso, Scotland that they used to go to a lot when he first got married, but they haven’t been there in a while. And their apartment in Paris is still under his name. He had to sell off most of his European holdings while he was in prison, undoubtedly in order to pay himself out. His United States properties are mostly still in his name, but those are the only three international.”

“Then based on the family theory, it makes the most sense that he would head to the house in Thurso,” Hotch said, glancing your way. “It would hold the most memory for him.”

Emily agreed, taking a sip of her coffee before speaking to the room. “If he’s salty about losing his family, and that’s what he wants to hold on, then going back to the home he share with his wife and young son would make the most sense.”

“Wheels up in thirty,” Hotch said.

Maybe this would be over soon.

                                                             —-

Ten hours. It was a ten-hour flight to Scotland. With the jet, it would take a little less than nine, but that still meant nearly nine hours of silence. Nearly nine hours of sitting in your own head. Garcia wasn’t coming with you, so you didn’t have her to talk to and Rossi was exhausted, so he was sleeping in the corner.

The only thing keeping you going was the fact that within the day, this might all be over. At least if Ashton was in custody, you might be able to begin the healing process with the ones you loved. With work, you might be able to repair the relationships you’d broken.

Without anyone to talk to, you found your eyes getting heavier and heavier by the second. There was no point in staying awake anyway. No one was talking to you. Maybe if you slept some, you’d wake up and be there. Then this would be over.

What was that at the corner of your mouth? Had it rained during the night?

You were awake. You were alive. Why were you alive?

As you pushed off the ground and opened your eyes, you pulled out the compact that Leslie had given you. She was dead. You tried to kill yourself. It hadn’t worked. There weren’t enough pills. Looking in the mirror, you realized you’d thrown up in the middle of the night. You’d woken up in a pool of your own vomit. This is what you had become. 

Had it already been nearly a year of this? Legs spread, mouth closed as staring men robbed you of your dignity. You wouldn’t live through another year of this. You wiped the vomit off your chin and ran through back alleys, hiding behind garbage bins, scraps of metal - anything that you could feasibly hide behind. As you hid behind a particularly large dumpster, you pulled off your heels - the ones that Rocco insisted you wear whenever you work - in order to run faster. Nothing could slow you down now. Not when you woke up with a sense of purpose. You hadn’t died. Those pills should’ve been enough, especially in your weakened state, but you hadn’t died. That had to mean something. That had to mean you were meant to do something with your life. But you couldn’t stay here.

Everything had to change. You needed to leave your hometown. No one could know who you were. From this day forward, you were no longer the daughter of Jonathan and Michelle Connors. You needed a name.

Y/F/N Y/L/N. You’d always loved that name.

One of your friends from high school was an expert hacker. If you could get to him, you could get him to give you a new identity. Alec, you had to get to Alec. The more you ducked and ran and dove, the more paranoid you became, that Rosso would somehow find you and take you back. If he did, you would die.

But last you heard, Alec was two towns over.

For hours, you ran. You hid. You did whatever needed to be done to make sure you weren’t found by Rocco or one of his guys. Drainage pipes? You fit your malnourished body into them. Sewers? Check. Dumpsters? Those too. It would all be worth it, if you could change the course of your life. It was nightfall before you found yourself in Alec’s town. Finally, you found him.

“Alec?” you whispered. He was sitting in his yard fucking around on his computer like he always did.

The second he turned around, he recognized you. “Where have you-?”

“Alec, I don’t have time to explain. Will you create a new identity for me? I need to escape. If I stay here, I’ll die.” The strain in your voice surprised you. You’d never heard yourself so desperate. Even last night. Maybe it was because last night, you figured you were as good as dead, and today you had more hope.

Little else was spoken between you as he hacked every system he could. “It’s going to take me a day or two to get the papers, but I can do it.”

“Thank you, Alec. Do you know of any place to hide for a couple of days?”

His parents were gone for the weekend, so he let you stay in the basement. Alec was a good guy. He never asked what happened to you. He could see on your face that you didn’t want to explain. What he did was enough. He allowed you to sleep in his home, take a shower, and even gave you some of his old baggy clothes.

Two days later, you were set up with a new passport, new social security card, new everything. Your name was no longer - you were Y/F/N Y/L/N. “Thank you, Alec. I will never be able to thank you enough for this.”

“Y/N?” he asked as you turned to leave - to run once more.

One more turn back. One more peek into the past. “Yea?”

“Good luck.”

With a wave and a tear, you ran out the front door of Alec’s home. You ran and ran and ran. Honestly, you weren’t sure where. But it was going to be far away from here. You may not have had your parents’ name any longer, but you would make them proud. You would make Leslie proud. Take her on the ride she never got to take herself. You would make yourself proud. Past be damned.

“Y/N?” It was Rossi.

“Wha-? What?” A sheen of sweat draped over your body like a robe.

Rossi placed his hand on your shoulder. “You were tossing and turning. It looked like you were having a nightmare, so I thought I’d wake you up. Plus we’re almost there.”

An hour later you were in Wick, which was just 30 minutes from Thurso. As Hotch drove, your heart raced. You were so close. “We’re here,” he said. When everyone got out, he pointed the team towards opposite ends of the house. It was small by Ashton’s standards, but still fairly large. All of you needed to come from different directions to cover every possible method of ingress and egress.

Tiptoeing through the house was torture. Around each corner, there was a possibility of freedom. A way to ease your guilt. But corner after corner…nothing. Until you got to the living room. On the coffee table, was a piece of white paper and on top were two types of flowers and a sprig of pine sitting comfortably in a vase. By the looks of it, no one had been in the house for quite a few days, as the flowers were wilting. “What do the flowers mean?” JJ asked.

Spencer piped up from the background. He and Morgan were the last ones to make their way into the expansive living room. “The purple flowers are anemones. They tend to mean that one is forsaken. The smaller blue and yellow ones are convulvus major, meaning that one’s hopes have been extinguished. And pine typically represents guilt.” He rattled off the meanings like facts, as if they weren’t a direct taunt to you from the man himself. The rage built within you, coursing through you like a river. When you opened the paper, you read the impossibly neat, script handwriting - very obviously Ashton’s.

How does it feel? Knowing you were so close?

“Dammit!” you screamed, heaving the vase across the room. Before it even hit the wall, spraying petals in all directions, you were gone. 

The rest of the day was spent talking to random citizens in the area and asking whether or not they had seen Ashton. A few nodded their heads, saying he was quiet and respectful. Others commented on his bright smile. The one that crawled up your spine.

But he was gone.

Hotch left orders with the locals to contact him immediately if Ashton was to return, but he wouldn’t. Despite his arrogance, he was too smart for that. The plane ride home was going to be long.

                                                            —-

The second you got back to the airstrip, you barged out of the car and ran directly onto the plane. You should’ve known better than to think this could’ve been over.

Everyone filed onto the plane after you, in varying degrees of annoyance, both with you and the situation. No one said a word to you until shortly after take off. The ones awake were you and Emily.

“Hi,” she said, sitting across from you. “I’m sorry we didn’t catch him.”

You wiped a tear from your eye as you stared out the window. You didn’t have the balls to look at her just yet, not when you knew how much you’d disappointed her. “Me too…I’m so sorry, Emily.”

“Y/N…I’m so sorry for what you’ve been through. I can’t imagine being put in that position…I…”

Once this was all over, you needed some serious therapy. Emily went through her own therapy after her brush with ‘death.’ “I know the situations weren’t the same, but how did you manage after Doyle?”

“Help. Lots of it. A change in scenery for a while. The team. I couldn’t have done it without them.” She reached across the seat and placed her hand on yours.

“Can I ask you something else?” You wanted a genuine answer. You didn’t want her answer to ease your own guilt. That would have to be worked through another time. When she nodded, you continued. “If you had been put in the same situation I did, except instead of Spencer being in immediate danger, it was Declan, would you have done what I did? Knowing my past, I mean?”

A small huff of air escaped her nose as she laughed. “I’ve been thinking about that for the past few days. I mean, I immediately wanted to be mad. And before I knew where you came from, I was, but knowing what I know now, I would’ve absolutely done the same for Declan. He’s above all else for me.” 

“That was Spencer for me,” you whispered softly, looking over at Spencer’s lanky, sleeping form. You started to sob again, holding your hand over your mouth to keep quiet, but you looked her directly in the eyes. “I need you to know that I love all of you. I never wanted to hurt JJ. I just thought that he had eyes on Spencer, and that if I didn’t do what he said, I would lose him. I’m so sorry, Emily. I’m so sorry.” Since you met, Emily had told you to call her Em, but again, you felt that was a name you had to earn. 

She stood up and sat next to you, bringing you into her arms as you cried. “I know…it’s gonna take us a while to get through this, but we all will…in time.”

anonymous asked:

Cheryl, what's your ideal date?

Cheryl: uhm I am a hopeless romantic: some candles, a perfect dinner, maybe a picnick in a park. But no roses: JJ is allergic to flowers and I don’t want him to be sick because of course he would be at the date too.

Roses

A/N: I’m not really into Valentine’s Day but it was an excuse to write something really fluffy.

You find the first one on your doorstep early in the morning. It’s wrapped neatly in the newspaper that’s normally tossed on the welcome mat as the delivery boy bikes through. It’s a single, deep red rose. There’s a note attached to it with the word ‘one’ written on it. The handwriting is small and cramped but familiar. You fill a small vase with water and place the rose in it.
‘Two’ is tucked under your windshield wiper. You know you know that handwriting. You’ll have to snoop through some of your coworkers things when you get there to match the handwriting.
‘Three’ has been slipped inside your locker. You find it when you go to put your workout clothes into the locker for later. Whomever this is knows your routine a little too well. You know it has to be an FBI agent, no one else is allowed in this part of the building. You also know it’s someone you’ve worked with before, that handwriting. If the notes said more than just a number it would be easier.
'Four’ is in your desk drawer. That’s when JJ notices the two flowers on your desk.
“You didn’t tell me you were seeing someone.” She says surprised. You would say you’re closest to her on the team and if you had been seeing someone you definitely would have told her.
“I’m not.”
“Then what’s with the two roses?”
“Four actually. The other two are in a vase at home.”
“They were at your house?” She looks concerned.
“Yea.” You pause then say, “oh, hey maybe you’ll know whose handwriting this is.” You pass her the two notes and she doesn’t say anything, just smiles. “Well?” You prompt.
“No idea.”
“Liar.”
“Whose a liar?” Reid joins the conversation.
“I’ve been finding roses everywhere today. So far I have four and no idea who they’re coming from. JJ knows the handwriting and it looks familiar but she won’t say whose it is.”
“I don’t know.” She feigns innocence.
“Oh yea she’s totally lying.” Reid agrees, “let me see them.”
“No.” JJ says shoving them into her desk drawer and locking the drawer.
“JJ!” You cry as she stands and walks away from the two of you. Once she’s out of the bullpen you go to her desk with two paper clips. Reid comes over and watches as you effectively pick the lock and pull the two pieces of paper out of her desk. You hand them over to Reid who only grins then masks his features.
“I don’t know.”
“Alight. You’re lying too!” You say exasperated. “If you guys aren’t going to help me then I’ll figure it out on my own.
'Five’ is delivered to you an hour later by a confused looking intern. “I was told to give you this.” He says handing it over.
“By who?”
“Agent Jareau.” You shoot a look over at JJ who is continuing to ignore you and your flowers.
“Thank you.” The college student nods and leaves the bullpen looking as puzzled as ever. “Come on JJ. I know you’re not behind these. Who is?” She never looks up and you drop your head back with an irritated groan.
'Six’ is in your lunch, you’ve effectively ruled out every male in the bull pen by finding excuses to go to their desks. Some of them you had conned into writing something for you but so far you’ve come up with nothing. Morgan and Reid are the only two in the bullpen who won’t let you see their handwriting. You know that at least the three of them know whose behind all the roses and if Derek knows so does Penelope. You’ve tried to break her but she surprisingly doesn’t even sort of crack.
'Seven’ is on your desk after your workout with Morgan. You twirl it in between your fingertips and sigh as you tuck it into the ever growing vase of flowers on your desk. Glancing over at Morgan’s desk you’re surprised to see that he’s not back yet. You take the opportunity to hurry over to his desk and dig for something with his handwriting on it. You find a note to call Garcia in his handwriting but it’s not a match. You shove the drawer shut and start to plan how you’re going to get into Rossi and Hotch’s offices.
'Eight’ is in your purse when you leave. You’re pretty sure one of the team tipped off both Hotch and Rossi to your little quest because you don’t manage to get near enough to either of their desks to see a sample. Reid also manages to keep you at bay all day long, so those three are still in the running. Although Rossi does seem the least likely since you’re pretty sure he’s dating Strauss.
'Nine’ is in the door handle of your car. You’re tempted to go back inside and ask to see the security videos but you have a feeling that Garcia would not only see you coming but make it impossible for you to see them. Hotch was the only person left in the bullpen when you left. Could it really have been Reid this whole time? You’d never gotten that vibe off of him. He was more like your awkward brother that you could never see doing this. You slip the flower in with the rest and climb into the car to head home.
'Ten’ is in your mailbox, the mail set below it. Whomever this was had to have been here after three. You search back in your memory to try and place if anyone left. Someone could have during your hour long workout with Morgan but that only ruled out Morgan. It had to be either Reid or Hotch. Neither of them had ever expressed any interest in you in that way but if it was one of them you were hoping it was Hotch. You’d always had a little crush on him, he was protective and kind and was always the first one to be there when you needed someone. If it was Reid, well it was going to be really hard and it would probably hurt his feelings.
'Eleven’ is on your back porch. You see it when you walk into the kitchen. You take it out of the snow on the table and are surprised at how warm it still is. You follow the footprints around the side of your small house and don’t see anyone on the street. Whomever is doing this is very very good. You go back into the house and add that to the other ten flowers in the vase. It’s getting dark but the day isn’t over and every time you enter a new room you look around for another flower. There should be one more to make it a dozen. You’ve curled up with your cat on the couch to watch the news where there’s a light tap on your door.
'Twelve’ is in his hand. He’s looking nervous and hopeful, and so damn cute.
“Come in.” You say smiling and he grins back at you. His brown eyes light up and he comes into your house. “I’m seriously impressed.” You say with a laugh as you shut the door.
“You are?” He asks, passing you the last flower.
“Yea. Thank you. They’re beautiful.” You place the last flower into the vase and turn back to him.
“I’m glad you didn’t think it was creepy.” He blushes and you can’t help but grin at him again. You move over to him and take his hand in yours.
“I think it was very sweet. Maybe if you hadn’t put the notes and I didn’t recognize the handwriting to know it was someone on the team I might have been worried. But honestly, I’m thrilled it was you.” You kiss him then. Your heart is pounding so hard that you’re surprised it doesn’t burst right out of your chest. His lips are warm and firm against yours, they probe against yours with a confidence that doesn’t surprise you but makes you want more. You part your lips and he deepens the kiss. His tongue sweeps past your lips and he tastes like coffee, another thing that doesn’t surprise you. He’s wrapped his arms tightly around your waist and you run your fingers through his hair and he groans. You feel one of his hands on your ass and you can’t help but smile against his lips. He pulls away and grins down at you, you lead him over to the couch and pull him down with you. Before you hit the seat he twists and you end up in his lap.
“Woah!” You say, impressed and he laughs. You’re above him now, wrapping your arms around his neck you drop your head back down to his your lips only inches apart then you whisper, “Happy Valentine’s Day Hotch.” Then you kiss him again.