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#criminal minds fanficiton
ssa-atlas-alvez · 11 months
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OOH ! I have an idea.
The team is at a diner and a little kid drags his mother over to them by her sleeve, saying he didn’t think cowboys were real!!! Like mermaids and unicorns and all that. And cowboy!reader takes a photo with the kid and is all cute saying ‘fur the recurd, cowboys are very real, and that lov’ly lady over there *points at JJ* is a mermaid! but you can’t tell anybody, that’s dangerous huh?’ And the kids jaw just drops and JJ is like why is this child staring at me. Cowboy gets to fill her in later that he told the kid about her magical tail and such.
- 🦕
The only thing that might class as a warning is its the English spelling for mum and all that aha
Taglist: @xweirdo101x @xdark-acadamiax @ara-a-bird @heidss @chubbyboyinflannel @pendragon-writes @migwayne @bigolgay @technikerin23 @supercriminalbean @honestlycasualarcade @caffeine-mess @1s3v3n1 @oddmiles @kevyeen @stealing-kneecaps @criminalskies
"Mummy! Mummy! There's a cowboy!" You look up as the mother shushes, "But Mummy I thought they weren't real!"
"I'm really sorry," The mother looks up at you, flustered and you give her a smile.
"Mummy! Can you take a picture of me and the cowboy! I need to show Eddie! He doesn't believe in cowboys either!" The boy begs his mum, pulling on the bottom of her jacket as he does.
"I'm so so sorry,"
"Ma'am, its completely fine," You reassured, "I don't mind takin' a photo," The mother gives you a grateful smile as the boy flings his arms around your neck with the biggest grin for the photo.
"I thought cowboys weren't real! Like mermaids and unicorns!" The boy exclaims, "This is the best day!"
"What d'you mean mermaids aren't real?" You asked, "You see that lovely lady over there with the blonde hair?" You point at JJ and the boy gives a nod, "She's a real life mermaid,"
"Whoa!"
"Yep," You said with a nod, "But you can't tell anyone, okay? It's a secret,"
"Okay! I won't!" He exclaimed before leaning close, "She's a really pretty mermaid,"
"Yeah," You whispered, a smile coating your face, "She is."
"What about unicorns?"
"What about 'em?"
"Are they real too?!"
"Oh, yeah!" You exclaim, "You see that lady?" You point to Garcia, "She's in disguise, she's a real life unicorn." The boy gasps loudly, the team turning to you both with a curious look and the boy shrieks.
"They looked at me!" He grins, "Best day ever!"
"Alright Mister, time to come and eat your food," The mother laughs slightly.
"Don't wanna leave the cowboy," He pouts.
"Hey, you gotta listen to ya Mama, a'right?" You look at the boy, "Even cowboys gotta do what their Mama tells 'em," The boy looks at you seriously before nodding.
"Okay!" And with that, he gives you one last hug before running to his table.
About thirty minutes had passed before JJ and Garcia turned to you.
"Why is that little boy staring at us?" JJ asked, Garcia nodding in agreement.
You grinned, "Well, he told me he didn't think cowboys were real, like Mermaids and Unicorns... So I kind of told him JJ was a mermaid and Garcia was a unicorn?"
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Sometimes I have to play a game with myself called "Is There Actually A Fic Where This Happens or Was It Just A Conversation I Had With @hey-dw"
For example, today: Is there actually a fic where Penelope just kind of randomly says "you're a pretty great guy, Luke Alvez" and he's kind of confused but also super pleased, or is that just something Danni and I talked about????
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neuroprincess · 1 year
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Hey I’m the anon who requested jjxreader! Maybe like the reader works for bau. Her and jj haye each other can’t work together etc but turns out that’s all just tension👀
Hi lovely anon, sorry for the delay, hope it's as you expected and enjoy ^^
Why do you hate me? - Jennifer Jareau/Female Reader
Jennifer Jareau/Female Reader
Classification: +18, Smut, Fluff
Warnings: Swearing, bratty reader, top!JJ, rough sex, hate sex (?), fingering, oral, enemies to lovers, light punishment
Word count: +3300
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Unrevised
Agent Jareau walks down the aisle of the jet, snacks and a cup of coffee in hand, this would be her breakfast on a Sunday early morning, when the entire BAU team had been called out on a case in Alaska. Frustration eating her up inside, not only that but also fatigue, the last case was closed two days before, exhaustingly long and difficult, so she barely had time to spend some quality time with the kids on what should be a few days off but criminals don't take time off and she had to call Will, her now-ex-husband, in the middle of the night so he can stay with the boys. When JJ arrives at her usual seat her tired expression turns to indignation, there, sitting exactly in her favorite spot, the new addition to the team is settled, hair slightly disheveled, wearing reading glasses and concentrating on the file folder in hand. She feels a wave of irritation as if Y/N is sitting there purposely to provoke her, it's not as if this hasn't happened before, like when Y/N openly disagreed with her in a meeting, ignored a point of view of JJ, also interrupted her, what irritated her the most was actually offering help in one of the cases even though she hadn't asked for help. But this time, she went too far by sitting in her favorite seat, strategically chosen years ago. The blonde frowns and waits for the other woman to notice her presence, which she doesn't, even as she coughs falsely and stares at her. Any remnants of calm and serenity she might have had are totally gone as she continues to stare at her. Defeated, Jennifer just sits down on the seat in front of Y/N, sighing audibly in sheer frustration at being ignored again. Then she throws the snack packets on the table, finally catching the other agent's attention.
- Hey - Y/N smiles and puts a hand between hair, taking out a wireless earphone - Bad mood, Aurora?!
Of course, JJ saw this coming, she started to be called Aurora because of her shiny blond hair and for an occasion weeks before when she slept on her shoulder during a meeting. At every opportunity Y/N uses the nickname, knowing full well how much it annoys her, she loves the "I'm going to kill you" expression she makes every time she is called that. Like the one she makes now, staring at her with a red face and dilated nostrils.
- No, I'm not in a bad mood. - JJ rolls her eyes, crossing the arms and throwing herself against the chair. - I was just trying to sit in my seat, but it seems that someone else is taking the place.
- Oh, I didn't see any names on the seat, it must have been my mistake. - the woman makes an exaggerated gesture of surprise, with a mischievous smile on her lips, then pats the seat next to her - If you like, I can reserve this place for you.
- I know you're trying to piss me off, but I'm sorry to say it won't work. - Jennifer replies sarcastically. - How can you be so annoying?
- Emily, they're fighting again! - they hear Luke shout at the brunette as he approaches, taking a seat in the chairs behind them.
- I'm just being nice. Maybe she's just not used to it. - Y/N defends herself, raising the hands in surrender.
- I don't need your niceness, thank you.
- You two are like cats and dogs, you know? - Emily comments, sitting down next to her friend, laughing as she looks at the two of them curiously - I never know what to expect when you two are together.
- True, but I guess that's the fun of it. - the newbie agent answers with a sarcastic smile, looking at JJ - It certainly adds a little excitement to the day. - and then puts the earphone back on, returning to reading the files.
- You know, it sounds like... sexual tension. - the chief whispers, pulling her face closer to the blonde's, then smiles broadly when she realizes how flushed she has become.
- Stop talking nonsense and let's concentrate on the case.
She swallows dryly trying to ignore the woman's comment, thinking how absurd it is that Emily thinks she could see Y/N this way. They hate each other and can barely stand each other's presence, Jennifer feels uncomfortable around her, a frustration with her presence, because she knows she won't come to an understanding with her and doesn't even know how to do that. In the end she attributes these feelings to Y/N's teasing attempts, her annoying personality, and how it makes her feel confused. It's a simply absurd thought. She turns to Y/N concentrating on reading, listening to something random in her earphones and biting the cap of the pen she uses to take notes. Jennifer feels something strange, a small twinge in her belly and an unfamiliar sensation running down her spine, it's something she can't control. Y/N looks, slightly, vaguely, almost attractive. She had never seen her like this, messy, so concentrated, and wearing a nice pair of glasses that bring out her best facial features. She wonders how someone so annoying can look so attractive, so she tries to dispel these thoughts when she realizes where they are going. JJ looks away and decides to turn her mind back to what really matters now, the case, so she picks up her own copy and tries to concentrate, sweeping any thoughts about under the rug.
- What the hell were you thinking? - Jareau growls opening the hotel room door for Y/N to enter, then slams the door behind them as the woman walks over to the second bed - You put yourself at unnecessary risk there, you could have hurt yourself seriously.
And is ignored by her, who just shrugs the shoulders as if she doesn't care and starts to take off the shoes, the blonde walks to an armchair in front of her, throwing herself against the furniture and sighs staring at her. Y/N rolls the eyes and finally gives her some attention, disdain in expression, she knows that throwing herself against an assassin armed with a knife was not the best idea but he was arrested, she left with just a scratch on the eyebrow, she didn't even need a medical suture, just some alcohol, pain medicine, band-aid and an appointment for tetanus vaccines.
- What are you complaining about? - she crosses the arms - I may have chosen the worst approach, but it worked, I came out practically unharmed. And you can't deny that it was a nice arrest.
- You are so childish!
- And you're very boring.
- Inconsequent!
- Shrewd!
- Petty!
- Bad-tempered. Why do you get so upset with me? Why do you hate me?
At this point the two are face to face, both exalted, inches apart, anger in their eyes dissipating in JJ's blue ones when she hears the question. She doesn't know the answer, simply doesn't have one for it, when Y/N walked through the BAU doors months ago, she picked on her from the first moment without knowing exactly why, maybe it was the annoying personality, the random conversations on the jet like Shakira's divorce, the constant bad jokes, the sarcastic replies to any comment, the mania for humming in the middle of a meeting, or even the habit of jumping to conclusions. Just like what happened in the case they just closed. Only then does she realize she is practically on top of Y/N, half leaning over the bed, staring at her expectantly for an answer to the question she has been holding in the back of her throat for weeks, and then Jareau does something she didn't expect, pushes her against the bed, and then something even more unexpected. She kisses her.
It's a shock to both of them, they're still elated and red from the little argument, mixing bitterness with gentleness, it's a bittersweet act. JJ just felt herself letting go, losing control of her own mind, as she always is around the other woman, and her body as well. All the barriers between them slowly falling down. She thinks of pulling away but before she could do that Y/N responds to the touch, hands reaching for the blonde hair deepening the kiss, merging in ardency and intensity. Tongues touch and roll, sliding inside each other as ragged breaths mingled, along with involuntary moans and intense touching. Jennifer pushes her further against the bed separating herself from her, in seconds both are naked except for the part under Y/N and JJ's fingers reach for the waistband of her pants in a hurry, ripping the piece from the woman's body along with her panties roughly, hands slide down the back of her legs and stop at the knee, opening legs further, leaving her completely exposed to her while the blonde keeps it open, squeezing her knees, staring at her pussy with thirst and desire. Excitement takes over both of them.
- I'm going to fucking ruin you. - Jennifer whispers with a serious expression on face and moves her hands to the inner part of the thighs, squeezing mercilessly - Hands above her head. Move an inch and you won't be coming tonight.
Y/N sighs in surprise at the blonde's attitude, at the same time excited, a wave of heat running through her body, wetness building up in her intimacy as she stares at her before obeying. She raises both hands above the head as she had been ordered and keeps her legs open, trying to move minimally, but it becomes an impossible task when JJ runs her mouth down the entire length of her thighs, scraping teeth, kissing and sucking the velvety skin, admiring every redness or patch of marked skin she leaves behind until she reaches Y/N's intimacy, taking her mouth to the honey pot, enjoying the taste of her excitement against the tongue. She caresses the sensitive bundle with circular strokes, which draws loud moans from the agent, she tries to keep obeying the woman but her body trembles in Jennifer's experienced hands and mouth. She hits the right places, with timing and a lusty hard-on that neither of them have ever felt before, sliding with speed and precision into the sweet spots. Not like some ex, high school sweetheart, not even with Will. It's intense, it's different, it's raw and carnal, along with months of frustration and hidden feelings.
She lets a scream die when she feels the tongue penetrate her, alternating between licking, sucking and invading her with vigor, JJ's strong hands grip her hips to keep her still, nails clenching close and leaving scratches in place, which are sure to leave marks the next day. Their eyes meet, it's a sight of the gods to have Jennifer Jareau between the legs, pleasuring her, fucking her roughly minutes after a fight over the case. After all the disdain they have shown for each other. The blonde blinks taking her mouth off Y/N's intimacy, licking her own licked lips and then biting the lower one, teasing her. This draws a moan from her, then another as JJ sucks her again, followed by many more. Y/N arches the back, the hoarse moans of her gasping breath almost muffled between the deafening beats of the heart, she knows she is close, her hands grip the sheets, she simply wants more, more and more, and when the tongue penetrates her again while the other woman sucks her greedily she finally finds freedom. With eyes closed, her breathing fast, and hands almost ripping the sheets, Y/N reaches the peak of pleasure. She moans loudly, enjoying every touch Jennifer gives her as she overcomes the orgasm she had just had.
There is a smug smile on Jennifer's lips, she faces the other sweated and ruined agent underneath her, shaking weakly, trying to pull herself together. But she feels it's not enough, not for the annoying person who made her last months a living hell, so her hands snake up to Y/N's clit, pressing and stroking slowly, making her breathe heavily again, she tries to control her moans but it's almost impossible with the merciless pace of JJ, who spares no energy in making her cum again, in less than a minute she reaches her goal. A second orgasm makes the agent's body tremble, involuntarily she closes her legs trying to regain control of her own body flooded with pleasure, she moans loudly and feels burning, watery eyes. Her body is increasingly hot and sweaty, muscles tense as she surrenders and enjoys all the pleasure that is being offered.
- So what makes you think I'm going to fuck you properly? - Jennifer whispers crawling over Y/N, brushing against her lips softly. She teases the woman as she takes her lower lip between the teeth, nibbling before leaving them, another smile forming as she stares at her with desire - You disobeyed me, but I'm going to relieve... for now.
- And if I like to be punished? - she lifts the head to face JJ, a defiant look on her face and a provocative smile on lips as she stares at her.
Jareau rolls the eyes and presses her body against her, bringing their lips together again in a hurried, sloppy kiss, then holds her by the hips tightly, lifting her onto the mattress and turns her so that she is on knees. A palm in the middle of the back positioning her correctly, JJ wants Y/N to have the legs apart and the ass lifted so that she is exposed and submissive to her. In this position she looks sexier, her curves perfectly outlined, the sight is beautiful and tempting to the woman, her gaze is full of desire admiring her beauty and submission. Just like this to get the brat under her control. Y/N is completely at her mercy and this excites her to hell.
- Ouch! - Y/N gasps as she feels the first slap being given, it hurts and she shudders, taking a deep breath without expecting the next after this one, it's stronger and the skin burns when the same hand strokes the sensitive spot, it's a mixture of pain and pleasure that makes the excitement flow between legs moistening the sheets - I think I like being punished by you - she says, voice hoarse and provocative - I'm hornier than ever, I want you inside me now. - she hums softly, looking back with eyes pulled wide with lust, her body moves with the movements of the blonde's hand, she wants more, she wants to feel inside her as soon as possible - Please, Jennifer.
- You have no right to call me that, it's Jareau, you brat. Are we clear? - JJ grabs a lock of the woman's hair, pulling back the head, bringing them closer together. Her mouth near her ear, she bites the earlobe and pulls, sending shivers down her spine - If I had a strap here, you wouldn't even be able to walk the next day. - she whispers last, not expecting to be answered.
- Yes, Jareau.
JJ pushes Y/N's head against the mattress still holding her hair, making her more prone and vulnerable with hips fully raised up. She penetrates her with ease, without pity or care she enters two fingers inside her, without giving time to get used to the stretching or the sensation she starts to move, in a fast and strong rhythm. Y/N groans loudly between sighs and strangled cries, feeling the pleasure invading her body, a twinge of pain that makes it even more interesting. JJ's hand leaves the woman's locks and finds itself on her hip again, holding her steady so she can maintain a favorable position and finds it. Her fingers slip deeper, disappearing into Y/N's desperate hole, she pulls them out completely and put them inside again in a brutal rhythm, this is maintained until the agent's body is convulsing under Jareau. Y/N's eyes widen letting out a scream as she feels the third and most intense orgasm of the night, it's pleasurable, painful and almost infamous the way it makes her feel, an explosion that brings her to tears. She spasms violently and collapses against the mattress, pulling and dragging JJ with her. The blonde lies down next to Y/N, arms pulling her to nestle there and holds her tenderly until her body relaxes overcoming this another orgasm, it was all so intense and JJ knows the woman needs this. She runs fingers through Y/N's hair, stroking the sides placing a lock behind her ear, kissing down the exposed neck. Then their lips meet in a gentle and calm kiss, slowly both their breathing calms, the newbie's skin becoming warm and relaxed, the tears drying, no longer burning. She lets out a soft sigh as their lips part slowly, as if they don't want to part. Jennifer puts her hand on Y/N's face, wiping away the trail of tears and leaves a kiss where that once belonged. Suddenly it's as if everything that had happened before has dissipated and the only thing that matters is the tight embrace they share. They let themselves go, finally surrendering to the moment.
- Aurora, so you don't hate me? - Y/N whispers, staring into the blue eyes in front of her.
- I think not, maybe Emily was right.
- About? - she raises an eyebrow, curious about what the chief could say about them besides the daily jokes.
- She said that between us there was sexual tension - JJ whispers, bringing her lips close to Y/N's again, feeling her breath - and I have to agree.
Y/N laughs softly, feeling embarrassed and blushing, hiding face behind hands, JJ also laughs and stops her from continuing to hide by holding wrists.
- Okay, I think I agree with her too, kind of, but maybe sexual tension isn't so bad. - she smiles and leaves a lingering kiss on the blonde's lips - So, does this mean we'll stop fighting? - and asks hopefully, her heart squeezing at the sight of Jennifer's smile.
- Probably, I think I'd prefer to kiss you than argue with you. Your brat mouth is of better use that way. - they nod positively in silent agreement - But as long as you stop calling me Aurora, otherwise I'll treat you like the brat you are.
- If the treatment is like the one you're giving me now, you can bet I'll keep calling you. - Y/N jokes trying to dissipate any tension that still existed between them, but it was all gone the moment their lips touched for the first time - But I promise, if you give me a kiss, I'll behave.
The blonde moves even closer to Y/N, placing a hand on her face and caressing gently. She gives her a tender kiss on the lips, wrapping her arms around the naked body pulling her to lie on her naked chest, then strokes the agent's back and head, just feeling her breath against her, then the little sighs and a soft snore. Y/N is relaxed in her arms, a feeling of security after all that has happened, neither of them imagined that the teasing and tension in the workplace was nothing more than repressed desire. JJ admires the sleeping woman, running a finger over the small cut on her eyebrow gently, mentally noting that she would have to give her another " lecture" for this unnecessary carelessness, when the serial killer pulled the knife close to her face and the whole team saw red she could swear she was seriously injured. It had been an intense day anyway, her body feels tired, as does Y/N's, this one mainly because she is on pain medication, so Jareau is not surprised that she practically faints. She is about to do the same when feels the phone vibrate in her pants thrown on the corner of the bed, carefully she takes it and is surprised that it's Emily.
"Hi you! Looks like you had a good time with Y/N, your room is next door to mine, in case you forgot. If you guys would like company next time, feel free to call me ;)"
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emobabeyy · 1 year
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i’ve started writing a little of the idea of what if Emily was captured in 2x14 instead of Spence and I was wondering if anyone on here would be interested?
I want to examine how Emily would deal with the Dilaudid and who she would turn to for support after the fact.
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midnightsnyx · 1 year
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allie's writing guide
requests are currently open.
what i write
reader x character
one shots/drabbles
imagines
alternative universes
social media au’s
headcanons
who i write
RPF: hockey players x reader
criminal minds
aaron hotchner
spencer reid
the hunger games
finnick odair
harry potter
remus lupin
sirius black
the last of us
joel miller
sentence starters here & here & here I don’t write smut/NSFW.
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sunny-avi · 1 year
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Elle
The Lines We Dare To Cross: Chapter 3
THE AFTERMATH: Part 1
WORD COUNT: approx. 8.6k (i’m afraid chapters are just going to keep getting longer)
CHAPTER SUMMARY: Spiraling is the leading cause of resignations in the BAU.
CONTENT WARNINGS: mentions of rape, typical cm stuff, mentions of murder, mentions of suicide. Feel free to tell me if I missed any.
A/N: Please do not repost, rework or translate my work. This series is now cross posted on AO3! If you see a piece of my work anywhere else please let me know!! These are the only places where it is posted. REBLOGS ARE WELCOME! Let me know what you think.
A/N 2: Sooo, here it is! FINALLY! Honestly, writing this chapter was a journey. When I started it, I was still a senior in high school and now I’m almost done with my first semester at uni so yeah, a journey. Also, I debated a lot on where to end this and I thought about leaving it until after Elle was gone but then I saw I was already at 8k, so… cliffhanger! (is it really a cliffhanger if you kinda already know what will happen?) I did my best to try and show the cute little friendship Reid and Hawke have going on, what do you think? (I accept criticism but please be nice about it) I know it was a long wait, but I hope its at least half worth it! Let me know what you think.
I really hope you like it!! 
SERIES MASTERLIST
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This case was a tricky one. The one responsible for most of the brutality, was Tony Canardo’s wife. And although it’s finally over, you can’t stop thinking about the last thing Amber said before being dragged away by SWAT.
“Believe me, she’ll never be the same”, she had screamed out from the back of the patrol car.
The words keep echoing in your ears. You know that much is true, Tiffany Spears will never be able to forget the horrors she went through. Yes, the team saved her life; but you can’t help but wonder whether that’s enough.
Everyone is silent on the way back, trying to decompress from the last several days. You’re trying to unwind in the only way you know how: by mulling over the events you witnessed. Reviewing every detail, considering what you could’ve done differently, what you could’ve done better; and oh boy, isn’t that the list of the century. How could you not have noticed Amber’s sketchy behavior from the beginning? You’re supposed to be a profiler.
JJ, who’s seated across from you, ends the call she was on. “Jacksonville PD found the remains of a body on the grounds of the cabin. They think it’s Amber Canardo’s old boyfriend.”
You aren’t surprised.
“Well, 10 will get you 20 that DNA will match the first two victims.” Gideon speaks up.
“At least the families will finally have closure.” Spencer says as he hands you one of the two cups of tea he fixed, the gesture became a sort of habit after a case. He’s the only one who takes charge of preparing it though, he won’t even let you near a kettle. Not after you fixed him a cup a couple of cases ago, he claimed it was the worst tea he’d ever drank. Spencer can be a bit of a drama queen like that. You take the cup and mouth a silent thank you in return.
In the time you’ve spent together, you have come to learn some things about Reid, and he’s come to learn some things about you. You’ve learned he has an IQ of 187, that he can read 20,000 words per minute and he can remember every bit of that information due to his eidetic memory. He’s learned the actual reason why everybody calls you Hawke —though you aren’t actually the one who told him, you have Gideon to thank for that—, that your favorite movie is Mata Hari —and when he asked, you told him that yes, you were indeed aware of the irony—, and that you hate being called ‘Agent’. But one of the things that surprises you the most about what you’ve learned about him, is how close he is with Jason. You’re glad that Spencer found a friend in Gideon, and that Gideon has someone else that cares about him enough to not be easily pushed away by his gruff exterior. It was only the natural progression of things when the doctor started joining Jason and you for coffee sometimes. Which ultimately, you think, is what led to Spencer and you to becoming friends.
You sip your tea as Reid sits down in front of you, beside JJ.
“And we did save Tiffany Spears.” Morgan answers.
He’s seated on the couch beside Elle, who fell asleep the minute she sat down.
Looking over to where Elle’s settled, a conversation you had with her a couple of weeks ago, suddenly crosses your mind.
You ended up getting a desk right next to Morgan, and -actually- it’s pretty fun. The desks are aligned in a sort of square formation, with Reid seating just across from you. Your days are full of interesting facts, sarcastic quips between the two men and the occasional flirtatious conversation between Morgan and Garcia when she happens to visit his desk. Or when they’re on a call. Or when he reads their texts out loud. There are a lot of conversations. Soon after joining the team though, you learned not to take their banter too seriously. Sure, it borders on the inappropriate at times —most of the time— but you’ve come to know that it stems from a deep friendship between the two. Also, they are pretty entertaining to hear.
You met Garcia indirectly during your first case with the team. But you met her officially when the team returned from Cleveland. She was the first person you saw as you entered the bullpen and made way to your desk, she introduced herself and told you she kinda already knew everything about you. The thought made you nervous at first, but you quickly realized that by everything, she meant everything she’d been able to find; from the moment you’d joined the FBI to the moment you left for the CIA. Nothing further than that is easy to find, even to a technological genius like Garcia. She’s a colorful person, in every sense of the word; which is a welcome change from boring police stations and traditional Bureau regulations.
The other desk is recently re-occupied by Elle. She could be a bit brusque, and she didn’t warm up quickly to your official addition. Apparently, she was fine with your presence when you were just a temporary replacement, but then she found out you were there because Strauss had said so. What little friendship you could’ve shared, had devolved from there. She seemed to think you were a ‘bureaucratic puppet’; she told you as much during a small disagreement you’d had in Northville while the team was out there on a case. You could understand where she was coming from, Erin Strauss was the one who had taken the executive decision to put you on the team; overriding Agent Hotchner in the process. You guessed that didn’t go over all too well with such a tight-knit team. So yeah, you got what she was saying. But that didn’t mean you weren’t tired of hearing it. Strauss herself liked to remind you who you owed your new position to, even Garcia appeared to be hesitant at first —friendly as she was—. You were exhausted, and you didn’t hold back.
There was certainly an exchanging of words, you didn’t take kindly to other people questioning either your abilities or your motives.
You’d both received an earful from Agent Hotchner when he’d found out about the confrontation. Whether he was upset because you had argued in front of some of the local police officers or because you had argued at all, you didn’t know. All in all, definitely not the best way to get on the boss’ good graces.
The rest of the case had been… tense.
When the team got back to Quantico, Morgan all but locked Elle and you in JJ’s office, forcing you to smooth things over. He claimed he would not stand for two constantly bickering teammates, especially if he had to sit so close to them. You didn’t feel the need to remind him that you did, in fact, had to stand his bickering with Reid. You knew it wasn’t quite the same.
Things were awkward at first, but after a few shared drinks from a bottle of very strong vodka the liaison kept in the bottom left drawer of her desk, you both started talking. You talked about your time with Homicide, and how much you were starting to dislike Strauss. You usually weren’t one to explain yourself, but it was important for you that the team knew why you were there, and it wasn’t to be an errand girl for the higher-ups. You were there because you deserved to be, everything else was just paperwork.
She talked about her recent brush with death. You’d had a lot of those. Something about near-death experiences made for good bonding. She even talked about her father, how close they were, how much she missed him. You could tell she was close to a breaking point, everyone is once in a while. Especially in your line of work. And Agent Greenaway, well, she’d been through a lot recently. You really couldn’t blame her. What you could do, however, was to offer your support. And that came in the shape of pouring her another drink. You were never really great at the whole ‘feelings’ thing.
“Sometimes it’s like I’m still there. I can still see his face. I can feel his hand inside me.” Elle admitted, not looking at you.
A beat passed and finally, you answered.
“I get it.” You did.
“When will it get better?” She sounded half hopeful, like she believed you might finally have the answer she’d been looking for.
And that made your head spin, because you couldn’t. You didn’t know when things would get better, if things would get better. You could only pour yourself another drink.
“I’ll let you know.”
She huffed a humorless chuckle. “Cheers, then. To meeting Death.” She raised her already half empty cup towards you.
“And living to tell the tale.” You clinked her cup and drank.
······
You’re sitting at the round table, waiting for Reid to finish brewing the two cups of tea. Elle pours herself a cup of coffee; the three of you are comfortable joining each other in silence. It’s late, after-hours in the FBI. The cleaning crew are waxing the floors and tidying up the bull-pen after a long day, the sounds of their machines make for a calm ambience.
Gideon trots down the short flight stairs from his office to the small kitchenette.
“Doesn’t anybody ever go home?” He looks at the now empty yoghurt container in front of you and raises an eyebrow.
You tilt your head to the fridge.
“You’re here.” Elle pipes.
He closes the fridge after taking the last yoghurt, “Exactly. Trust me. You don’t want to model your social life on mine.”
Spencer hands you your cup of tea as he sits beside you. He silently offers some of the salad he prepared for himself and you shake your head vehemently; the doctor has a taste for brussel sprouts and you, do not. Besides, you know he offered only to be polite, he doesn’t really like sharing his food.
JJ walks in with a folder tucked into her arm.
You already know what that means. Sighing, you straighten up and begin to mentally prepare yourself for what’s to come. A case in the middle of the night doesn’t feel too promising.
“If it makes you feel any better, Hotch and Morgan took off.” JJ tells Gideon.
“Hotch is married and Morgan’s you know, Morgan.” Reid says with a full mouth.
Gideon looks at the files JJ’s carrying, “What’s this?”
“Police in Dayton, Ohio need help with a serial rapist.”
Elle looks concerned, “What’s the story?”
JJ explains the case, the UnSub had raped five students at a Bible college, more or less an attack a week, and then had gone dormant for about three months. However, he reappeared a little more than a week ago and his new victim pattern was all over the place: women in their thirties.
“Where have the new attacks taken place?” Gideon asks, looking at JJ.
“Opposite ends of the city. He was waiting for them when they got home.”
Your attention is drawn to Elle, she looks especially bothered.
She clears her throat, “How do we know it’s the same guy?
“He leaves voicemails for them.” JJ clarifies.
Gideon and Spencer start theorizing, along with JJ.
You tune out of the conversation for a bit, giving yourself the chance to read the file and get the facts down.
Elle catches your attention again, her body language is somewhat strange. Her arms are crossed in front of her and she won’t make eye contact with anyone, she isn’t paying that much attention to the conversation but she’s not reading the file either. She’s distancing herself, that much is clear to you.
The sound of papers being rustled brings you back to the team.
“Call Hotch and Morgan. Tell them wheels up as soon as we’re cleared to take off.” Gideon orders.
Everyone stands up hastily to get their bags as JJ goes to call the rest of the team.
Before she can get too far, you grab Elle by the elbow.
“You okay?”
She gives you a small smile, “I’m fine. It’s just…” She sighs. “It’s different when the victims are still alive, you know?”
You nod. “Yeah, I do.”
······
The flight’s relatively short. After a little over an hour, the team finds itself in Ohio.
Agent Hotchner went with Elle and Reid to interview the most recent victim at the hospital. Morgan and JJ went with Detective Callahan to the University, to talk to another victim.
That left Gideon and you to set up in the PD’s conference room.
“So, how’s Stephen?”
Gideon looks taken aback, ”What?”
“Stephen. You know, your son?”
He gives you a look. “I know who Stephen is.”
You shrug, “Well? Have you talked to him recently?”
He looks like he doesn’t want to talk about it, which is exactly why he has to talk about it. At least you think so, you aren’t sure. You heard a therapist say it once and it kinda stuck with you.
“You know, my father never called. And look how that turned out.” You say while pinning the pictures of the latest crime scene to the board the precinct provided.
He busies himself with some files on the table. “This is about your father?”
You roll your eyes. “No, don’t change the subject.”
He ignores you and continues taping a map to the wall, along with some thread, establishing the different locations the UnSub had attacked.
“I talked to him.” You say softly. “ To Stephen.”
That gets his attention. His head whips towards you, eyes wide.
“He called me.” You sigh. “He wanted to know how you’re doing.”
“He could have asked me himself.”
“You know, funny enough. That’s what I told him.” You raise a brow. “But I was nicer.”
“I doubt it.” He takes a breath. “What did he say?” He’s quiet, almost as if what he’s asking is confidential. Perhaps it is.
“He said, and I quote, ‘I’m glad you’re alive’ and then he proceeded to try about a dozen ways of asking about your wellbeing without really saying the words.” You make a face. “You Gideon men should really work on your communication skills.”
That pulls a small smile out of him.
“He misses you.”
“I miss him too.”
And in that moment, though not for the first time, you can see Jason for who he really is, a lonely man aching for a relationship with his son. You don’t tell him everything Stephen said, of course. Then again, you said a lot too. You talked for a while with the young man. He said that his father needed to make a bigger effort if he ever wanted to have an actual relationship with him, and you agreed. Up to a point. You also think Stephen can be unfair, after all, his father has been through some traumatic shit. You told him as much. You found out they had talked, seldomly. And the few attempts they both had made in bridging the gap, ended when the next case came looming. The BAU has that effect on relationships, apparently.
“You should take him out for ice cream.”
He huffs a laugh “He’s not ten.”
“I know that. But he doesn’t drink coffee anymore.” You keep stacking papers and files.
“Right.” He looks a bit ashamed, like he didn’t know that detail.
You can’t say much more after that, because the team comes back with new information that they got from the victims. And both Gideon and you pretend you said nothing at all.
You all spend the rest of the afternoon reviewing details from the interviews and analyzing photographs from the crime scenes. Establishing time frames, and trying to figure out where the UnSub might go next.
When everyone seems to have lost their energy and more than one’s eyes are droopy, Agent Hotchner instructs the team to get back to the hotel.
Though from the looks of it, and the fact that everyone takes a pile of files from the table; sleep’ll come for no one.
······
“Be right there.”
Gideon opens the door to find you holding a bag of takeout, with a knowing smile on your face.
“I had a feeling you wouldn’t be asleep.”
He lets you in, closing the door after you.
You immediately take notice of his makeshift board on the mirror, and the files that are thrown all over the bed.
“What are you doing here?” Gideon asks with a furrow of his brows.
You shrug your shoulders, “I brought dinner.”
He hums in response.
You plop down on the bed, pushing his papers aside, “Gee Hawke, you really shouldn’t have. You are so nice, making sure I’m fed, what would I ever do without you?”
“Funny.” Gideon deadpans.
He rummages through the bag until he finds his dish, and tosses yours to you.
You both eat in silence for a while, with only the occasional side eye from him. You forgot the drinks.
“I was thinking about something.” You say suddenly.
He signals you to continue.
“Only a small percentage of rapes get reported.”
“More victims?” He asks.
“It’s a Catholic school.” You think about it, “Something made him change his pattern.”
You can see the wheels turning in his head, “UnSub’s stressor might’ve been a rape that never got reported.”
“Maybe.” You take another bite, “What do you think?”
He considers it for a couple of minutes.
“I think you should go to sleep, kid. It’s late.”
You could resist, but you are starting to feel tired. You already succeeded in your ‘Get Jason to eat’ mission, you can see he’s emptied his plate and tossed it in the bin.
You help him tidy up the small mess you made while eating, and set the papers on the bed aside.
“You should rest too, old man.” You open the door. “Beauty sleep and all that.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He ushers you out.
You hold the door open with the tip of your boot, “Think about what I said back at the station.” You look straight at him. “You need each other, Jason.”
He nods. “Good night, Hawke.”
You step aside and let him shut the door.
After you return to your own room, you throw yourself on the bed. It has been an exhausting day, in more ways than one. Trying to help bridge the gap in the relationship between Jason and his son? Well, that’s just another Tuesday. You try to read the file again, maybe you missed something the first two hundred times. But your eyes are closing without your permission. Sleep does come for you after all.
A rapid succession of knocks wakes you up. And you know you can’t have been sleeping for more than a couple of hours. You get up, mumbling about how unfair this whole ordeal was, and open the door to find Reid looking quite troubled. “Spencer” You say through a yawn. “What the hell are you doing here?” Niceties be damned. You were tired, and he wasn’t bleeding. As far as you can tell, there isn’t a reason to wake you up.
“I’m worried about Elle.” He pushes you aside gently, letting himself in. He looks around the room, noticing the state of the bed, a bed that’s been clearly slept in. “Were you sleeping?”
“Yes,” You scratch your head. "You’ll find some of us humans tend to do that.”
He quirks an eyebrow. You sigh.
“Why are you worried about Elle?” You motion for him to sit on the bed, he shakes his head. Instead, he sits on the uncomfortable chair near the desk. You pull the little round table and place it so you can sit in front of him.
“I just talked to her. She’s been acting weird all day. I know you noticed too, back at Quantico. And then there was the thing in the parking garage, about her glasses. I have never even seen her wear glasses! And just now in her room, she was drinking. While on a case, Hawke. We don’t drink while on a case.”
You can’t help but to chuckle at his rambling. He reminds you of a little kid, though he isn’t that much younger than you.
“She’s been through a lot, Spence.” You rub your eyes to get rid of the sleep that still refuses to let your eyelids go. “Give her some time.”
“I know, but I think she needs to talk to someone.” He looks at you, almost expectantly.
“Is that someone supposed to be me?”
He shrugs, “You’re friends with her.”
“You are too! You’ve known her far longer than I have. Besides, you’re the one with the degree in psychology.” You exclaim, but quiet down quickly after remembering the time.
“But you’ve talked to her. She trusts you, I think.” He insists.
“We’ve drunk together, Doc. It doesn’t take much trust to do that with a person.” You try to stifle a yawn, unsuccessfully.
“Please?” He pleads.
And damn you, you couldn’t have said no.
“Fine. I’ll talk to her and see what I can do.” You look at him. “But, Spence, if you’re really worried, maybe you should talk to Agent Hotchner.”
He actually considers it, “Hotch is understanding. But I think she just needs to talk to someone who will get it. Like you.”
“Like me.” You nod defeatedly.
You walk him to the door then, and you notice he’s visibly calmer.
“I’ll let you get back to your human stuff now.” He jokes. “Sleep well.”
You smile, “You too, Spencer.”
······
It’s early. Way too early. You barely got any decent sleep after Spencer came knocking on your door, when the sound of a message coming in wakes you up.
At 4:30 a.m, it reads: ‘Precinct. One hour. -A.H.’
You groan into your pillow, and kick your sheets around for good measure.
You’re ready in ten minutes. You take a cold shower to wake you up, and drink some really bad coffee from the machine downstairs. You go back up to your room and read the files again.
4:55 a.m
You still have some time to kill.
You knock on Agent Greenaway’s door. When she opens, you offer her the travel cup you filled for her.
“Hey. Heard you had a long night.” You smile.
She’s already dressed and ready, “Reid’s such a tattletale.”
You chuckle, “He means well.”
She takes the coffee from your hands as she locks her door, “So he sends his big sister to talk to me?”
That makes you laugh, “He sends a friend.”
Elle hums in response. You walk together to the parking garage.
“I’m fine, Hawke.” She says after a beat. “You don’t have to hover.”
You take a step aside, giving her some distance. “I’m not hovering.”
She looks at you.
“Fine.” You say. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, Mom.” She answers with a huff.
You roll your eyes playfully.
······
Agent Hotchner instructs you to go with him to interview the Norvell´s.
The ride is quiet, except for the occasional comment from Detective Callahan. You’re beginning to like her, she looks like the type of person that devotes herself completely to the cases she handles, that much you’re able to see. You admire her drive and commitment to the job. But if she isn’t careful, she might just end up losing herself. You know a thing or two about that.
The Norvell household is what one would expect from a catholic suburban family. Quiet neighborhood, nothing stands out in particular. You’re met with clearly grief-stricken parents, Mrs. Norvell can hardly look anyone in the eye, and when she does, you can see she’s constantly on the verge of tears. Mr. Norvell is calmer on the surface, but the way he’s gripping his own hands tells you that he too, is struggling.
The instant Agent Hotchner asks about Shelly’s suicide, to know about the possibility that she was raped; is the instant that life suddenly comes back to Mrs. Norvell’s face. She’s defensive.
You clear your throat and speak softly, “Did Shelly leave a note?” You look towards Agent Hotchner and he nods. You turn back to Mr. Norvell, “And if so, would you be willing to let us take it and analyze it?”
“There wasn’t a note.” There is a quiet severity in Mrs. Norvell’s tone, one that only a mother can conjure. But you can see through her, she’s blinking faster and her breaths quicken. Shelly left a letter.
“We will return it”.
“And with all due respect, this isn’t something we’re asking lightly.” Agent Hotchner continues.
Fire blazes in Mrs. Norvell’s eyes, “With all due respect to you, you walk into my home, you ask if my daughter, who we buried two months ago, was also sexually violated.”
You understand her frustration, you can’t even imagine the pain she’s in. And you know that she is only trying to preserve her daughter’s memory as it once was: a bright young girl, unharmed by the world’s evil.
Agent Hotchner apologizes.
Detective Callahan tries again. She mentions her little girl, tries to reason with Mrs. Norvell, mother to mother. But grief is the most unreasonable of sentiments.
“I’d like to go lie down.” Without saying anything else, Mrs. Norvell stands up and leaves the room.
Everyone else stands up as well.
“Thank you for your time.” Agent Hotchner’s gratitude falls on deaf ears.
“I’ll see you out.” Mr. Norvell begins to guide you out the house.
Before you get to the door however, he stops the three of you and signals for you to wait. He turns to the wooden commode and takes a white envelope out.
He’s giving you the letter.
“I love my wife.” He declares in a hushed whisper, but the intensity doesn’t waver.
You reach for the letter and with shaky hands, he lets it go. You squeeze his shoulder lightly, letting him know you understood. “I know.”
Once outside the house, you carefully open the letter. Both Detective Callahan and Agent Hotchner hover over you to get a look.
“She was raped?” Agent Hotchner says, and it sounds more like an affirmation than a question.
“She was pregnant.” You read an excerpt from the letter out loud, “I’m choosing the sin of suicide over the sin of abortion because I can’t bring his baby into the world.” You turn to look at Agent Hotchner, “Please don’t hate me. Shelly.”
He frowns, “The attacks at the college stopped two months ago, right after Shelly’s suicide. That had to have been the stressor.”
You nod.
“He thinks of these as relationships. In his mind, Shelly killed their baby.” Detective Callahan says through clenched teeth.
······
The rest of the team went back to one of the victims. Based on what you learned from the Norvell house, another question has to be asked.
The UnSub is trying to impregnate these women, he believes he’s creating families. The thought makes your stomach churn.
Elle calls some time later, she relies the information they got; the previous victims led to the same fertility clinic. They’d all gone there previous to the attacks. She also also tells Detective Callahan that the UnSub’s still watching his victims, so patrolling every name on that list is necessary.
You, along with Agent Hotchner and Detective Callahan, meet up with Morgan at Dayton Heights Fertility Clinic. It’s a small space, but it is full of women filling out what appear to be medical forms; prospective patients, you assume.
The sound of pen on paper stops when you enter the building, and everyone looks up from their files. Three FBI agents and a detective tend to have that effect on people. Soon enough, after showing your credentials to the secretary behind the desk, the doctor appears.
Agent Hotchner introduces himself and then everyone else, and without wasting any more time, he asks about the UnSub and whether he works at the clinic.
“I’m sorry. But whoever’s committing these crimes couldn’t work at this clinic, I’m the only man here.” The doctor seems to be in his late sixties, and given from the various certificates that hung from the walls, he’s been practicing for quite a while.
“But that doesn’t mean that there isn’t a connection. We need your help to figure out what it might be.”
The doctor doesn’t look too preoccupied with the fact that women are getting raped. He acts very nonchalant about the whole ordeal.
“Can you excuse me just a minute?” He raises a finger signaling you to wait and turns to a woman behind the counter, handing her the same files you saw the other women filling out when you arrived. “ Can you just fill that out?” The woman nods. “That’s great. Just right there”.
You try to see what the forms said, but the woman’s already gone. The doctor turns back to your group and the smile that he put on for the patient fades from his face.
“Look, what’s happening is just horrible. But the margins on a clinic like this are incredibly slim.” He turns to look directly at you “ And if word gets out that there’s a connection to this rapist, my practice would be ruined.” His eyes almost look pleading.
As if reading your thoughts, Detective Callahan interjects, “To be honest, I don’t care about your practice. Three women were raped after coming here. That’s not a coincidence, it’s a pattern.”
It becomes a back and forth between agents and the doctor, he insists he has nothing to do with it and then either Morgan or Agent Hotchner ask him to collaborate.
That is until the woman returns to give the forms back, “What is that, Doctor?”
“It’s just a questionnaire we hand out to learn more about our client base.” The doctor hands the papers to Agent Hotchner and everyone huddles closer to read.  
The wheels start turning in your head, and you can see the same look of recognition in your coworkers’ eyes. “This is everything the UnSub knew about the victims.”
Barely lifting her sight from the file, Detective Callahan asks, “Who else sees these?”
“I don’t compromise the medical privacy of my patients.” And you understand everything from his defensive tone, and from the fact that no one’s raised an accusation against him, yet.
“Who else sees these?” Agent Hotchner repeats sternly.
And even though it isn’t exactly illegal, what he’s doing could perfectly well ruin his practice. Detective Callahan tells him as much. It doesn’t take much more to get the doctor talking. It takes even less for Garcia to get the complete information.
You quickly text Gideon: ‘First Hand Media. Boss says check it out. -Hawke.’
······
On the ride back to the station, you go with Agent Hotchner while Morgan went in the other car with Detective Callahan.
The car is quiet, and a little awkward. You don’t really get the feeling that you’re on top of Agent Hotchner’s most liked list.
You know where Agent Hotchner’s animosity towards you comes from, you honestly can’t say it’s completely unreasonable. It’s really the same as most of the rest of the team, they wondered whether you actually were a bureaucratic puppet or not. You also know that he doesn’t take the meddling with his team lightly, and Strauss did just that by taking the executive decision of adding you to the unit without consulting him first. He didn’t have to tell you that he believes you to be some sort of pawn that was placed strategically to enforce some sort of brass agenda on his team; you had overheard him one night having a disagreement with the Section Chief over the phone.
It isn’t true of course, but it’s taken you this long to say something about it. You just don’t know exactly what to say. You start drumming your fingers against your leg. “Agent Hotchner, I-”
He interrupts you swiftly, “Hotch. You can call me Hotch.”
And you take that for what you think it to be, a peace offering. It sort of feels as if you’re finally being fully accepted into the team. You decide it’s a good thing.
······
It’s bad.
After spending hours skimming through countless documents from that marketing company, you got the name of the UnSub’s next victim. You were one step closer.
You sent a police patrol to go to the address you’d found in the files to make sure the woman that lived there was okay. They’d left after not receiving an answer from anyone in the house.
The woman was raped. The UnSub was inside the house, holding her at gunpoint; and the police didn’t even hear a sound.
The team rushes to the scene, where the paramedics are already wheeling the victim into the ambulance. You hate how every neighbor seems to be outside, trying to get a glimpse of the spectacle that has mounted itself on the street. The fact that they’re all standing on the tips of their toes trying to get a look of the victim, angers you a great deal.
As you get out of the car, you can see Detective Callahan approaching you. Her expression perfectly portrays the grim circumstances.
“There was no forced entry. We’re still not sure how he got in.”
“MO’s the same?” Morgan asks.
“Yeah.”
“I’m going to take a look inside.”And you’re about to follow Agent Hotchner, until you see Elle marching up to the house as well. She’s pissed.
“What the hell are your men doing?” She spits out at Callahan.
This is not good.
Callahan looks more confused than angry at the outburst, “Excuse me?”
You try to grab Elle’s elbow gently, to pull her away and de-escalate; but she shakes you off. “Well, you can have men outside the door, but a woman can still get raped inside.”
“Elle…” You say quietly, loud enough for her to hear.
“They knocked, there was no answer. There was no legal cause to enter.” You can see that the detective is getting heated at the accusations.
The last thing you need right now is animosity between the FBI and local police.
“So they just walked away?” Elle is relentless.
Comments are being thrown from one side to the other, each one louder than the last.
Morgan pulls Elle with a little more force than you did, “Elle, what the hell are you doing?”
As Elle is walking away, the detective exclaims, “They did everything in their power!”
You try to pull Elle into the house but she quickly turns back to answer, “You just keep telling yourself that.”
You pull her harshly, “Elle!”
Her face was full of disdain as she shakes you off aggressively, “What? You’re going to tell me I’m wrong?”
“This is not about right or wrong.” You look around, Morgan is still talking to Callahan and you hope he’s apologizing for what just happened. “Nothing will come out of antagonizing local police. You know that.”
“A woman was inside getting raped while the police stood outside doing nothing!” She shouts at you. “And I’m supposed to worry about hurting some detective’s feelings? Give me a break.”
She storms off into the house.
You rub your eyes with the palms of your hands. This isn’t good, Elle is spiraling. You can imagine the reason why. But the fallout of all this, that’s what you are scared of.
“Damn you, Spencer.” You mutter to yourself.
Damn him because he convinced you into talking to Elle. Damn him because now you feel responsible. And damn you, because you can’t think of doing anything to help her.
You sigh loudly, letting your shoulders slump.
“You okay?”
You turn to look at Morgan, who’s slowly walking towards you. “Yeah, just… It’s been a tough night. For everyone.”
He nods in understanding.
You turn to look to where the detective is standing, talking to a couple of officers. “Everything alright with Callahan?”
“Yeah. Water under the bridge.” He waves his hand as if saying it’s nothing.
“Everything alright with Elle?” He raises his brow.
“I don’t know.” You breathe out.
······
You’re helping Elle with the wires that connect to the mic that’ll let you listen in on her. She’s going undercover, to try and lure the UnSub out. You don’t think this is a very good idea. But what do you know? Maybe you’re being paranoid, or overbearing. So you don’t say anything; it’s not your place to do so, anyway.
Elle catches your eye as you’re taping a cable to her bra strap, you can see the apology in them.
You nod once, then clear your throat.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” You ask quietly.
She seems to think about it, getting a bit lost in her thoughts, but quickly regains herself and nods.
“What’s my story?” Elle asks.
Gideon’s the one who answers, “You’re a legal secretary. Thirty-six. Divorced.” He’s fidgeting with his hands, he’s nervous. “We backdated the questionnaires two days, so in the UnSub’s mind, he’s already behind his normal schedule.”
Morgan has his arms crossed, clearly stressed with the arrangement.“This guy’s itching for another victim, Elle. Once he sees that form, he’s gonna want to stake you out.”
Agent Hotchner’s hand is partially covering his mouth with his left hand. “You need to let him see you. He wants to know when you leave, when you come home, when you have friends over. “ He takes a breath. “He breaks into these houses when the women are away. So he needs to see you leave.”
Elle nods along, likely trying to ingrain all these details into memory.
Morgan speaks again, “All we need to do is get him to breach that door. Once we get him on breaking and entering, we got reason to get DNA and his ass is ours.”
Okay. You breathe. That sounds simple. Basically in and out mission.
“Another thing. Don’t go out with your gun on. It’s too risky.” Jason adds. “If he sees it, we might lose him. Keep it someplace inside so you can get to it easily.”
Elle nods.
“We’re gonna be right out front.” Morgan gestures towards you. “Hotch and Gideon are gonna be around the corner in a surveillance van.”
“And don’t forget, you’re wired, so we’ll be with you at all times.”
You bump her softly with your shoulder, “This’ll be over in no time.”
Elle doesn’t look entirely convinced, but you can see she’s trying immensely to not let it show; so you let it go.
In fact, no one looks entirely comfortable with the idea of someone going undercover. But it seems to be your only choice of catching the UnSub. No one says a thing.
······
You’re in the car with Derek, parked just in front of the house Elle will be in for the next few hours.
The second Elle steps into the house and locks the door, Morgan relies the information over to the surveillance van. “She’s in.”
He then turns to the house again. He puts his elbow up on the window, supporting his chin with the palm of his hand.
You can recognize the gesture, he’s apprehensive. “She’s going to be okay.”
“Yeah, it’s just that-“ Morgan takes a deep breath “Something about this feels wrong.”
“Undercover ops are never easy. Not for the person inside, and not for the team who stands by.” Suddenly, flashes of memories you’ve been trying to forget barge into your mind. You can remember all the times when you’d come back from going in, and even though your team had been able to listen all along, they were always a nervous wreck.
If you really try, you can almost hear Sophie’s laughter, filled with relief after she’d hugged the life out of you.  I’m very happy that you’re alive, she’d say, you’re not allowed to leave ever again. And of course it was always said in jest, because you were both there to do a job; but sometimes, it was nice to pretend you were just two friends catching up. And if you squint just right, you can almost see Oliver’s eyes. The bluest eyes you’ve ever seen, eyes that would see you were back and shine in a way that said, I missed you.
You catch yourself before another thought can force itself in. Reminiscence is a threatening path.
You clear your throat, “She’s going to be okay.”
He nods slowly and you both fall silent.
A sudden blast of music makes you jump slightly, breaking the otherwise calm environment of the suburban street at night. The sound is coming from inside the house; Morgan and you turn to look at each other, eyebrows raised in confusion.
Just then, he receives instruction to call Elle. The phone rings once, twice and it keeps ringing but no one picks up. Your breathing quickens the tiniest bit.
Morgan’s breath does so as well, “Come on. Pick up. Pick up.”
Nothing.
Then, a truck parks just a few feet away, placed just far enough to not raise any kind of suspicion, but close enough to be able to look inside the windows to the house.
“I think we might have company.”
Morgan quickly dials what you could deduce was Penelope’s number, while pointing the pair of binoculars towards the truck.
Quickly enough, Garcia gives you the name, address and place of employment of the driver. He works in First Hand Media. He is the UnSub.
You quickly take the radio, “It’s him.”
A few seconds later, Elle walks out of the house.
Your relief is very brief however, because the pace in which she’s walking and her stiff posture lets you know that whatever is happening in the next couple of minutes, it isn’t going to be good.
She’s about to open the car door, but she stiffens. She turns towards your direction; she turns to the truck.
She swivels abruptly and starts walking towards the UnSub.
Morgan sighs loudly, “No, come on, Elle. Elle, back off. Back off. We got no reason to bring him in.”
She takes her gun out. Why does she even have her gun?
“Fuck.” You exclaim.
The radio roars with sounds of shuffling feet and the screams coming from your boss, “Go, go! Everybody go!”
Your body jerks back from the force in which Morgan starts the car and races towards Elle, who is already pointing her gun at the UnSub.
Within seconds, everybody’s at the scene. SWAT apprehend the man, who’s babbling about some map.
Everybody turns to look at Elle, her face betrays nothing.
You look at Gideon, who holds a map, presumably the one the UnSub’s talking about.
Fuck, indeed.
······
You’re behind the glass, watching Agent Hotchner and Jason question the man you just apprehended. Without legal reason to do so.
“How bad do you think this is?”
Morgan doesn’t take his eyes off the interrogation, “On a scale of one to terrible? Worse.”
“He’s twenty-eight years old and has a high school diploma, but he’s had twelve jobs in the past ten years.” Reid suddenly appears, making you jump slightly.
“Home life?”
“He lived with his mother until she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer six months ago.”
“One last chance to make Mama proud by starting a family.” Morgan says disdainfully.
“How are they playing it?” Spencer’s forehead is almost touching the glass as he analyzes the scene before him.
“Deep empathy.” You say as you take a small step back to give Spencer some more room to work.
“Smart.” He answers.
Morgan huffs, “Yeah, well, it better work.  If they don’t get him to confess, we got no reason to hold him.”
The room falls silent after that.
Some noise behind you, in the precinct, makes both Reid and you turn to look back.
“Who’s this?”
“Oh, no, no, no. Son of a bitch.” Morgan sighs dejectedly.
A lawyer.
And just like that, the UnSub is free to walk out.
Elle however, is not about to let it go.
“You’re letting him walk?” She cries out.
Morgan stands in front of her, his face stern. “Back off, Elle.”
She makes herself taller, leveling with him. “You don’t know what he’s done!”
“The only reason he’s walking is because you panicked.” Agent Hotchner’s tone is firm, leaving no room for discussion.
Elle doesn’t seem to agree, “I’m supposed to believe that you’ve got my back?”
“What are you saying to me?”
“The last time you sent me home, Hotch, you got me shot.” She tells him with pure fire in her voice.
Gideon doesn’t leave time for Agent Hotchner to respond because he quickly springs to action and pulls Elle by the elbow, with perhaps a little more force than necessary. “Walk with me. Right now.”Jason walks her into the nearest room and closes the door.
You clear your throat, more out of the need to break the tension that’s settled in the precinct than an itchy throat.
Morgan turns to talk with Agent Hotchner in hushed whispers.
Spencer moves closer to you, “That was intense.”
You nod.
“Do you think she’s going to be okay?”
“I hope so.” You sigh.
You see both Morgan and Agent Hotchner walk towards the exit, you assume it’s time to go.
The door to the room where Gideon took Elle into swings open, and Elle storms out.
Reid tries to grab her arm, but she promptly shakes him off aggressively.
Spencer looks at you, his eyes are wide open with confusion and perhaps the slightest bit hurt. You take him by the shoulder and pull him lightly towards the exit, “C’mon Spence, let’s go.”
······
When you arrive at the hotel, everyone goes their separate ways.
You follow Gideon as you both walk to the elevator.
“Where’s Elle?” You ask while pushing the call button.
“She needed some air.”
You hum in understanding.
The elevator stops in the fifth floor. Walking out, you come across Agent Hotchner and Detective Callahan. You nod towards them in acknowledgment, Gideon walks ahead of you.
“What happens now? Do you stay?” Callahan asks. There’s a note of concern in her voice, you can’t blame her.
“You have your man. You just have to wait for him to slip up.” Agent Hotchner answers.
It’s going to be hard to catch him again. After an encounter with the FBI, you are sure that the UnSub will be extremely careful to fly under the radar. It’s not like he has limited options; he has a whole dossier of women for an eight-state region for God’s sake. You wish you were able to stop him yourself. Sometimes the law is infuriating. Sometimes, you wish you could just take justice into your own hands.
You stop walking.
Elle.
You have an idea of where she might actually be. 
When you tune back into the conversation, Callahan is already locking her hotel room.
Gideon turns towards Agent Hotchner, “Get some rest, my friend. Wheels up tomorrow at noon.”
He then turns to you, he’s about to bid you goodnight, you’re sure, but you quickly interrupt him. “I have to go, I’ll be back soon.” You raise your wrist to look at the time. 11:30 p.m. How long has she been gone already?
He gives you a confused look, “Where?”
You can’t tell him, if you do, Elle would potentially be in trouble. Although, if your suspicions are right, she already is.
“I need to get some stuff from the drugstore.” You hope you sound authentic. “I have migraines.”
“Okay.” He nods. “Goodnight.”
That’s… easier than you thought.
“Goodnight.”
After he closes his door, you run down the stairs. Luckily, Spencer doesn’t like driving, so you’re the one who has the keys to one of the SUV’s.
You race to the only place where it makes sense for Elle to go. The UnSub’s address.
You step on the gas as hard as the car would let you; the sirens are loud in the quiet of the night.
11:50 p.m.
You’re only a block away. In the distance, you can almost make out the UnSub’s blue truck.
Then you see Elle, dressed in all black.
And she’s pointing a gun at the UnSub.
A gunshot.
The UnSub falls, and you know he’s dead.
You jump out of the car and Elle turns to you, face blank.
“Elle, what the hell did you just do?”
Your watch beeps, signaling midnight.
“He had to pay, Hawke.” Her tone is firm but her eyes are wide. It’s very possible that she’s going into shock.
“I agree.” You decide to keep the whole ‘but we can’t be judge, jury and executioner’ speech to yourself. The damage is already done, you need to find a way to fix it.
Then, she cries. It’s just a single tear trickling down her face at first, but soon enough, a sob breaks out of her chest.
Killing a person in cold blood, no matter who they are, leaves you scarred. The first time is one you’ll always carry with you, a face that will always haunt you.
You throw your arms around her and she burrows herself into your embrace.
You hold her until she stops crying.
You take a deep breath, grounding for both of you. “Okay, this is what we’re going to do.”
······
The parking lot quickly fills with dozens of police officers. Blue and red lights shine in contrast to the black sky. Callahan doesn’t take long to arrive, and you guess Agent Hotchner and Gideon aren’t too far behind.
The detective approaches Elle, “What happened?”
An officer has already questioned you and processed your statement. You told him exactly what had happened.
You were on your way to the drugstore, because you could feel a giant migraine coming; so better be prepared, right?
Elle called you dazed, because the UnSub had drawn his weapon while she was trying to have a conversation with him. She shot him in self defense.
You arrived to the scene and comforted her, and then you called 911 to report what had happened. Elle had been understandably distraught.
It’s cut-and-dry.
You leave Elle’s side when you see Gideon getting out of the car, Agent Hotchner is with him. You take a deep breath and roll your shoulders back.  
When Detective Callahan finishes relaying the facts to Agent Hotchner and Gideon, you approach them. Agent Hotchner’s gaze is pervasive against your own. “You will need to fill out a full report regarding this situation.” His tone, his posture and the deepening of his ever-present frown, tell you all you need to know. He’s looking at you the same way he looked at you when you’d first arrived. You need to tread carefully.
“Yes, Sir. I’ll have it on your desk by the time we go back.”
He leaves to go talk to Callahan.
Gideon remains where he stood. He keeps quiet for a couple of minutes. Then, “Are you alright?”
It isn’t what you expected to hear from him. “Yeah. I guess.”
He nods. “We’ll talk later.” And then he turns to join Agent Hotchner a few feet away. You’re already dreading that conversation.
You rub your forehead with your hand and breathe deeply. Of course this had to happen just when you were starting getting along with your boss.
You see the way Elle is looking at both Gideon and Agent Hotchner, before being guided to the back of the patrol car: Challenging. Unmoving.
This isn’t over.
Yet.
_________
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ninjasawakenedmystar · 2 months
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Writer 20 Questions
I was tagged by @chickensarentcheap many many days ago, but here it is!
How many works do you have on AO3?
I think 0 at the moment, but I have 3 currently available on Wattpad (this is making me think, damn, maybe I should publish more even if they're not done, because there's a bunch of 60-80k stories just sitting on my laptop).
2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
I think I checked a while ago and all my Fanficiton together is about 500-600k? Also holy crap @chickensarentcheap 2.5 million! Please teach me your ways.
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Mostly Hunger Games, Star Wars, and I do have a completed Fantastic Beasts and an incomplete Loki fic up, although I wouldn't consider myself a part of the fandoms anymore. Also smaller ones like One Piece, Descendants, Game of Thrones, Criminal Minds, and House of the Dragon
4. What are your top five fics by kudos?
Only have three published but it's:
Our Love Could Be Lethal (Hunger Games), then much further down is Catch Me if I Fall (Fantastic Beasts), and then Variations (Loki).
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
I generally respond to most comments, although if someone leaves a bunch, I'll pick and choose so I don't spam them. I like to interact with people who are enjoying my work!
6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Hmm...I think where I left my Fantastic Beasts fic off was pretty damn angsty. If I liked the third movie more, this would've bee rectified, but still not "happy" per se.
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
This is in spoilers territory, but I think my Hunger Games fic will be relatively happy, or at least, as happy as it can be in a post-revolutionary world.
8. Do you get hate on your fic?
On and off but people are generally very kind. It's the reason I prefer Wattpad because the block and mute buttons have been really effective in blocking it out (literally). Although I'd be lying if there aren't some fics I don't think I'll publish because of the potential for hate due to fandoms, ships, etc.
9. Do you write smut?
I haven't thus far, though in my outline for my GoT fic, I do have one planned but I haven't written it and don't know if I will. I've personally not been drawn to writing smut and tend to skip smutty chapters when reading, but I fully support those who do; it's just a personal preference.
10. Do you write crossovers?
I don't think I have...although I do want to write a crossover with other people's OCs because I think this would be fun. Not sure if it counts though.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Unfortunately, yes. And very recently too. Or rather, I only noticed recently. It was a bit disappointing that someone I had been interacting with would steal my ideas verbatim and plagiarize my prose...on the other hand, I have lots of proof which makes it easier to get taken down.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
I think OLCBL might be in Spanish? But I haven't seen it in a while so it might've been deleted.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic?
No but I did used to do Grey's Anatomy RP, so kind of a co-write!
14. What‘s your all-time favourite ship?
Of my characters, probably Finnick and Octavia? I am nothing like either of them so it's very interesting to me. My favourite canon ship is probably Lucy and Garcia from Timeless? I firmly believe if they didn't get canceled, they would've ended up together.
15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
That's probably Variations. The sheer amount of Marvel content has really turned me off of the studio because I can't keep up with things; it feels too big and I just gave up. I shamefully haven't even finished season 2 of Loki.
16. What’s your writing strengths?
Dialogue, character building, and I think scene description definitely deserves a shout-out for most improved.
17. What’s your writing weaknesses?
Probably not being organized enough with my thoughts; I'll come up with an idea and forget to write it down, or I think of a line, but get lost in a description and forget it.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
I'm not sure if it'd be good considering I am not very good at my second language; I think I'd prefer to use the "other language is in italics" trick unless I had someone to help me with making the dialogue better.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
Hunger Games!
20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?
It's got to be OLCBL. It's my biggest and I really learned how to write by doing this story. I owe it a lot, including my current career!
I'm tagging (no pressure): @come-along-pond @auxiliarydetective @goldheartedchaoticdisaster @asirensrage @thechaoticfanartist and anyone else!
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tomoathestory · 4 months
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☆Introduction☆
{Personal}
I'm Cry! Or Tomoa, Moa, Crioh, or whatever other nickname you can conjure up for me lmao
Some of the things I'm interested in is Voltron: Legendary Defender, Diary of a Wimpy Kid (specifically the Dysfunctional Perspective on TikTok), DC (mostly batfamily stuff, but I like the rest of it too), and Criminal Minds. I'll update this when I remember because these are just off the top of my head.
I play video games often, mostly Overwatch 2, Fortnite, Monster Prom, Roblox, and occasionally Minecraft. I play more, but there's too many to list! (Junkrat/Mercy main here LMAO!)
My favorite color is orange, I'm not sure what shade, though. Purple is definitely a close second, tied with yellow. My favorite TV show is Criminal Minds!! Season 7 Episode 19, Heathridge Manor is my favorite episode (mainly because my favorite actor, Kyle Gallner, is the unsub)
{Writing}
I first started writing (like, creative writing in my free time for fun) when I was around the 4th grade. Or about 9 years old. My first ever story, from what I can remember, was this one piece of fanfiction that I refuse to name. (Seriously, you couldn't pry it from my cold, dead hands.) From then, my writing kinda just followed me I guess? It was never something that I really like, shared with other people. I've mostly written just fanfiction, but I also have some original works that I love to think about. I think my longest character has been with me since 2020? Maybe 2021. I'll introduce yall to him later!!
I'll try to reblog posts that have amazing writing advice that I agree with btw,
{Tomoa}
The story that this blog is about (it still has no name, that's why I'm calling it Tomoa for now LMAO) has been floating around my head since around Janurary/February of 2022. So it's been with me for a little while now. It's definitely change a LOT since then. Like my main character used to be named Lukas, and now his name is Aaron lmao. He also used to be Russian for some reason?
The story was also supposed to be a lot more angsty and sad, but now it's supposed to be more fun and romantic (I developed a boyfriend for Aaron, and it's so adorable)
At the time of writing this, I have 11 characters and a cat. I'm gonna make an introduction post for each of them as time goes on, but for now I'm gonna stick with just my own intro+tomoa intro.
Here's me trying to explain my storyline (poorly done lmfao)
Aaron gets kicked out by his dad (mom not in picture), and gets recruited by villains. He goes on to be a villain but is laying low. So, in his mid twenties (where the 1st book takes place), he's like an average villain. Nothing sticks out, just a (somewhat) regular villain. Little does he know, his arch-nemesis just so happens to be his high school friends-with-benefits who he may or may not still be talking to. (He definitely is. And it's not talking, it's "talking.")
{Extra - aka ramble time}
Some of my goals for my story is to try to allow for a little bit of each kind of representation. Does that make sense? I hope so. But like, for example, I have 2 aroace characters in my universe so far (I PROMISE ITS JUST BECAUSE IM TALKING ABOUT THE MAIN GROUP), and I'm trying to make most of my characters from different origins too. My main character is Mexican/German/American, so I've still gotta do a bunch of research for him. I want for people to feel seen and represented when they finish reading my book, but the main purpose (and the original one) is to entertain. So not only do I want them to feel seen and represented, but I also want them to be like "Hey, that was a damn good book." (And then write fanficiton and make fanart and make AUs and social media accounts about my story <33)
Also!! Yall can ask me anything!! I love answering questions!! You can also try to suggest something for me to write, I'll make another post about what I will/will not write
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Ok but imagine reader & Spencer hating each other but like when reader is in danger Spencer drops EVERYTHING to help her (or them if u prefer) n then bringing her/them to the hospital. Immediately after she recovers everything goes back to normal but like idk mayb a confession??? OK CIAO THAT WAS LONG
okay this is longer than I feel like it should be but I LOVED THIS SO MUCH i hope you enjoy it! thank you anon!
You and Spencer have never seen eye to eye. You preferred Star Wars to his Star Trek, the Thai place on 23rd street versus the one on Greenview, and while Spencer was always speaking about some obscure documentary or reciting statistics from the recent crime reports, you were the type to stay quiet (unless the two of you were fighting). It wasn’t that the team didn’t like you, in fact, they loved you and they were the closest thing you had to family. Spencer had always hated you, and after you got over the initial shock, you were more than willing to return it. After all, he barely knew you when he first started avoiding you and once he heard you openly complaining about it, there was no stopping the feud that came.
The team was constantly avoiding the both of you whenever you were shoved together for fear that one of you would finally explode.  Spencer, having threatened to make good on his MIT legacy once before had everyone but you so sure that he’d finally grown sick of it. A part of you, the part you kept locked up deep inside along with your hidden crush on Spencer could have sworn he almost ENJOYED the war that was constantly waging between you. After all, there were times when you (mostly fueled by Penelope) swore the tension was undeniable.
Even on cases, it wasn’t rare that Hotch had to pull the both of you aside to scold you for “making a mockery of the BAU” or whatever spiel you were sure he’d prepared on the plane ride over. You were sure the team was downright sick of it all, but something about him not liking you rubbed you the wrong way and always had.
All that changed though, when you got shot on a case. You and Spencer had been paired up for a stakeout and had started fighting while waiting for the unsub. Hotch had told you to “work out your differences” when you had brought up your concerns about being trapped in a small undercover car with him.
While going back in forth, you eventually let it slip. “I don’t know what I did to make you hate me!” You had yelled at him. The contrasting silence that followed was deafening. “Y/N…. I don’t hate you. I never have!” You had rolled your eyes at that but Spencer persisted. “I mean it, I thought you hated me!” “Spencer…” “No really!” “No, Spencer look!”
The two of you rush after the unsub who had pulled into his driveway and spotted you during your heated discussion. You had always excelled over Spencer in athletics (to no one’s surprise) and you were right on the unsub’s tail when he turned and raised his gun. You tackle him down, but not before he squeezes the trigger, sending a bullet to graze the side of your shoulder.
You let out a shout and Spencer is quickly behind you, pushing the guy down into the ground with excessive force, cuffing him, and shoving him into the squad car that pulled up from around the corner. In the back of your mind, you realize spencer must have called for backup at some point, but your forethought is on the blistering feeling in your shoulder.
Spencer is quickly back by your side, and he somehow manages to tear the sleeve of your shirt off around the injury with his bare hands, surprising you with gentle strength. He calls for the medic and holds your hand as they patch you up, whispering words of encouragement as they poke around the wound. Opting to get examined in the field saved time, but it meant there were no painkillers to aid in your comfort.
Once you’re cleared, you realize that Spencer still hasn’t let go of your hand. He catches you looking down at it and pulls you aside, away from the squad cars and the rest of the team.
It’s there on a random street corner in Ohio that he confesses his true feelings for you. “Y/n…” he says “I’ve had a crush on you since you started here. I was so sure that you were quiet because you didn’t like me and somehow it turned into me fighting with you. I was too afraid to tell you how I really felt because at least this way, I was still talking to you.” You had to seriously fight the urge to roll your eyes at the total guy logic, but it was endearing nonetheless. Instead of your own confession, you had kissed him which he immediately returned and the rest was history.
The plane ride back to Quantico was the quietest it had been since you and Spencer first started your incessant fighting, at least until the team caught on. After that, there was no shortage of teasing and enthusiastic “It’s about time’s”. Under the surface though, they were all pleased that the family you all had built was stronger than it ever was before.
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mercy-burning · 3 years
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Honeybee
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: While attending Seraphina's wedding, Y/N discovers that her crush on her best friend’s older brother hasn’t gone away after all these years. Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Strong language, alcohol consumption, fingering, penetrative/protected sex Word Count: 5.7k
MASTERLIST
NOTE: I know I promised a oneshot over the weekend, but I’m a messy, inconsistent bitch, so you get it a day late 😅🥰
———
Looking back, I was starting to wonder if Seraphina only got engaged and asked me to be her maid of honor just to witness my slow descent into a heaping puddle of lovesick mush.
Truly, it was pathetic.
Yeah, yeah, she was getting married because she loved her fiancé and whatever, obviously, but she was also using it as an excuse to try and get me to admit my feelings for her older brother. Feelings, I might add, that only surfaced when I was a middle schooler and went away once he went off to college.
Sure, I'd thought about him on occasion when he was inevitably brought up around Sera's house throughout the years, but that was it. I'd hardly say I was hard-core in love with him. And I was totally prepared to see him for the first time since our high school graduation.
At least, I thought I was.
And Seraphina—the little shit—knew it, too. The smirk on her face the moment we were all in the same room for the first time in ten years made me want to run and hide more than her brother's figure, right in front of me and hotter than ever.
I was mad. Not at Sera as much, because really there was nothing she could do about the fact that he was her brother, but I was mad at myself. Because how in the hell had it stood to reason that a man I actively didn't think about for a whole decade had this much of an effect on me after all this time?
Honestly? I blame the FBI.
If he'd done literally anything else with his life I probably could have made it. Well, not by much if we're being honest, but come on...
Where he'd been a bit nerdy and reserved as I knew him, the man in front of me had clearly changed. Not just physically, though that was also a pleasant surprise. He looked like he'd been through some shit... And he carried himself taller. There was a new air of confidence that perched on his shoulder and helped him along as he talked with old friends and family members at his sister's rehearsal dinner.
Spencer Reid was older and more experienced this time around, and somehow even more goddamn delicious...
I was a total wreck. And it was about to get a whole lot worse.
He was coming this way. Right for me. He'd noticed me staring at him all night, because I couldn't keep my shit together, and now I was absolutely doomed.
Guess it was a good thing I'd practically grown up with him and knew how to act outwardly.
Still, the moment he was up close and flashing me that little smile of his, I felt the pit of my stomach scream out loud, sending shockwaves through my bloodstream.
"Hey, Honeybee. It's been a while."
Fuck. That fucking nickname...
"Spencer... It has."
When we hugged briefly, I tried as hard as I could not to inhale his scent, knowing that not only was that pathetic and embarrassing, but also I'd never stop smelling it otherwise. I did take note, though, of how strong he was now. He wasn't a bodybuilder of any kind, but he was certainly less bony and more defined.
I had to hold back a whine as I felt him let go of me, because I didn't want to leave his warm embrace but also because I didn't think I could stand to look at his face anymore without losing any and all semblance of my cool.
Still, I let him release me, and even then he didn't go far. We only stood inches apart, and my whole body was practically numb at the proximity. It also didn't help that I had to tilt my head up to see his face— It made me feel extremely submissive, and I could already feel myself starting to shrink.
Whether he was amused at that or just at me in general, the feeling I got was the same.
"Sera tells me you've been busy..." He paused, seemingly searching for the right word, though I could tell he already had it on the tip of his tongue. "Modeling?"
I closed my eyes with a sigh. "It was one job for some obscure European magazine, no one in the country's probably ever heard of it... It's not that big of a deal."
Spencer huffed a laugh. "You sound embarrassed..."
How was I supposed to respond to that? If I lied and told him I wasn't embarrassed, he'd figure it out, and if I told him the truth? I'd still be screwed. Honestly, my best bet was changing the subject.
Though, maybe it wasn't— When I asked him about his travels for work, he ignored it and responded with, "Ah, so you are embarrassed."
"N— I am not!"
"You changed the subject so fast I barely had time to blink... There's nothing to be ashamed of, Honeybee, I don't know why you'd—"
"Look, dude, I'm not ashamed, and I'm certainly not changing the subject. We were on the subject of jobs. So there."
I was aware of how childish I sounded, but I stood my ground nonetheless. And thankfully Spencer seemed to let it go, though not without amplifying that amused sparkle in his eye.
"Okay... Well, I've got some more people to see, but, uh... I'll see you around. Maybe you can show me some of your work."
He didn't even give me time to protest. Though if he had, I was sure I wouldn't have been able to get any words out what with that goddamned face he had, twisted and sculpted into all these beautiful ways that were designed specifically to make me a blubbering hot mess.
I could only gather the courage to nod in response, though he'd turned his back and walked away by the time I got it out.
———
All things considered, I'd managed to avoid him for the majority of the wedding festivities. I focused all my energy on being happy to see my best friend get married, and likewise it seemed that Spencer was inclined to do the same.
He walked his sister down the aisle, and seeing them both so happy truly made my heart sing. To think I'd known them since we were all kids more or less, and now they were both successful, beautiful human beings... It warmed me to my core, and despite the other flames that stung my insides at seeing Spencer in his tux, thing were going swimmingly.
That being said, we were just about two hours into the reception, and there was absolutely nothing stopping me from begging Seraphina to put me out of my misery.
Except maybe pints upon pints of alcohol.
In hindsight, that may not have been a good idea, though. Because as much as the open bar had it benefits, it also hated me. It was mostly my fault, because I was stupid enough to forget that I get frisky when I'm drunk, but that didn't stop me from blaming the bartender for continuing to serve me.
I wasn't quite at the point of all-out inebriation, but I was definitely toeing the line between tipsy flirting and total disaster.
And when Spencer came over to ask me to dance, I knew I was doomed.
I didn't find myself caring about what he was saying, only the fact that he was there, in front of me, putting his hands on me and breathing in the same air that I was putting out. My entire body buzzed, and while I would have panicked otherwise, my tipsy brain welcomed the tingle and made me a bit bolder.
"You enjoying yourself tonight?" he asked, like he couldn't already tell that I was having the time of my life.
"No way. You suck at dancing." The joke rolled off my tongue with ease, a product of years spent teasing him for countless things.
And just like all those times before, he rolled his eyes and then immediately flashed an affectionate smile all the same.
I should have stopped there, maybe tried to do something a bit more romantic like teach him how to dance... Placing his hands and fixing his posture, taking the time to gracefully have an excuse for exploring his body with my hands...
But romance took a backseat when I pressed myself in even closer to him and hummed just under his jawline. "Mmm, but I bet you're good at other things..."
I felt his hands grip my waist just a little tighter, and his throat visibly twitched. "How much have you had to drink, Honeybee?"
"Spencer," I whined, pressing my face into his neck. "Don't tell me you're turning me down, please..."
I could tell by the way he was touching me, his hands wavering and undecided, and the way his heartbeat thrummed loudly and quickly against my own that he wanted nothing more than to entertain my desires.
The thought made me quiver and press further into him. I kissed his jawline tenderly, silently begging him to whisk me away and finally make me his, but it broke my heart a little to feel him peel away from me.
When he looked into my eyes though, I swore the gleam in his own is what put me back together. It could have been the liquor swimming around in my body that made me feel lightheaded, but when Spencer lifted my chin with his fingers and looked me over, I knew that wasn't it. It was wholeheartedly, without a doubt, him.
"Tell you what... You get sobered up by the end of the night, and maybe I'll come find you."
I wanted to nod, but his gentle grip on my chin held me steady—At least until he glided his fingertips down my throat and over my shoulder. Then I downright slumped forward with a whine and a weak nod that seemed to make him smile.
"Thank you for the dance," he said earnestly, leaning forward to press the lightest of kisses to my temple.
Just like that he was gone, and I wanted him back almost immediately.
———
And so the night dragged on, and the longer I sobered up the more it dawned on me what the fuck just happened— What the fuck was going to happen, too, if I played my cards right.
It didn't help that I could practically feel Spencer's eyes on me the whole time. Probably to make sure I really wasn't drinking anymore, a fact that only made this feel more real.
On top of it all, I was starting to lose count of the amount of men here who were trying to buy me drinks. Even if the one man I really wanted tonight hadn't given me a deal, I still wouldn't have accepted them, if only for the pathetic fact that I would have been trying to catch his attention instead.
So much for trying to convince myself I wasn't in love with him...
Was that really what it was? It had to be, right?
Either way, I was determined to find out, and that meant declining every flirtatious offer to drink and dance.
Unfortunately, Seraphina seemed to notice, even on the one day in her entire life she shouldn't have been thinking about anyone but herself. "You're not having fun," she pouted, plopping down next to me and handing me a shot. "Have fun."
I laughed and set the tiny glass down on the table. "I am having fun, I'm just... tired. And being hungover tomorrow does not sound fun."
"Mmm," she responded, visibly suspicious.
I didn't really know what to say to her to convince her not to be though, so I grabbed her hand and smiled. "You're having fun though, right? 'Cause I will not hesitate to kick someone's ass if you're not."
With a bellowing laugh mildly tainted with the smell of champagne, Seraphina squeezed my hand and leaned in close. "I'm having the best time. I couldn't be happier."
"Well, good. You deserve it."
After a small moment of silent shared smiles, my best friend glanced over elsewhere and then back to me with that look in her eye that kind of scared me.
And her words were even scarier... "So, you talk to Spencer at all tonight?"
"Uh— Yeah... Briefly."
"Mhmm... Y'know, I saw you two dancing together earlier. You seemed reeeally close..."
There I was, getting defensive in front of a Reid sibling for the second time that night. And just like before, I was awful at being subtle. "Sera, stop it! It was just a dance..."
"Bullshit! He had his hands all over you, and he had that gross-ass, dreamy-ass look in his eye! He so wants to sleep with you!"
"Sera!" I gently shoved her and tried not to smile at the goofy smile she had plastered on her face.
"Am I wrong?"
"I... I don't..."
"Ha! I'm not wrong!"
The defeated look in my eye did nothing to disconfirm her story.
"So, what's stopping you from letting him?"
I went wide-eyed. "Se—You... You seriously would... You're okay with this? It doesn't... gross you out?"
There were a lot of things I could have seen Seraphina do in that moment, but pinching and yelling at me were not any of them. "Y/N! You idiot! I've been trying to get you two together for years! If I knew all it took was me getting married, I would have accepted Theo Decker's proposal..."
"Wa— In fifth grade? Sera, that wasn't—"
"I know, but you get what I mean! You two are so painfully attracted to each other, it physically hurts me. It's actually disgusting, but if it means there's a chance that you might get to be my sister? I say go for it."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "You... You really mean that?"
"What, you think I'd joke about that?"
Everything that she conveyed to me within the look in her eyes, her words, and the squeezing of her hand over mine told me she was sincere.
"I love you, you know," I told her just as sincerely.
Her smile was as radiant as ever, but the teasing tone in her voice was enough to make me scowl again. "Right back at'cha, Honeybee. Just do me a favor and don't tell me any details. I don't wanna know."
I stuck my tongue out at her, followed by a short shove. "Oh, and as soon as you get back from your honeymoon? I'm kicking your ass for telling him about that nude shoot I did for that magazine..."
She only grinned. "Why? I think I did you a favor..."
I rolled my eyes at her, but in the end, I guess she was right.
———
I shouldn't have been pacing. Really, it was pretty fucking embarrassing the way I walked in circles around my hotel room, waiting for a knock at the door or a text message on my phone, or something to let me know that Spencer had really meant what he said and was on his way to come find me.
I didn't have a single drink after we danced, and I swear to God, if he made me go through this entire night all nervous without the liquor to calm me down, for nothing? I was going to kill him tomorrow.
Later today... Whatever.
The point? I was well and truly ready to feel him taking up my personal space, and I was going to feel like a real idiot if I waited around and prepped and everything, only for him not to show. The funny thing was, it was almost two in the morning, and I would have stayed up until the sun rose for him.
Thank God he had the decency to save me the trouble.
A short two-rap knock on the door made me jump, but I ran at it full-speed, flinging the large wooden panel open and letting its momentum blow cool wind over my body. And I needed it, too.
Because standing right in front of me was Spencer Reid in all his semi-exhausted glory. His outfit was loosened, buttons undone and bowtie untied, hanging limp around his neck. His hair sat wild atop his head and a thin layer of sweat coated his skin. Maybe that last part sounded gross, but looking at him? It was anything but.
Especially when he flashed me that damned smirk. "Someone's eager..."
I tried not to sound as dumbfounded by his presence as I felt. "Well, you made me a good offer I couldn't refuse. Excuse me for being excited."
"And here I thought all this time you hated me, Honeybee..."
"That would be easier, wouldn't it?"
His grin transformed into a full-on beaming smile then, and it only made my skin feel warmer and my heart beat faster. I returned his smile with my own, so genuinely happy to see him again after all this time, and with the brightest show of happiness I'd ever seen.
Turns out, smiling like a lovesick idiot was all I was capable of.
"Are you... gonna let me in?"
The low suggestive tone in his voice had me springing into action, stepping back and allowing him the space to come in. And though he had plenty of room, Spencer still decided to brush his body over mine as he passed. His eyes bore into my own as he gently kicked the door shut and enveloped us in a dimness that came from cheap hotel lighting.
Still, I was unable to speak, and hardly able to even breathe, with each passing second.
And then, his hands were on my waist, pulling me to him with a softness that matched the whisper in his throat as he said, "C'mere..." Looking up at him then, his fingers burning holes through the thin fabric of my dress while he looked back down me, eyes swimming in tender desire... It almost didn't even feel real.
And it certainly didn't feel real when he leaned in, one of his hands coming up to touch my face while the other pressed me firmly against him.
The moment his lips touched mine, I was gone. I positively melted into him, so much so that it felt like I was just becoming a part of him entirely, losing myself in the moment and unwilling to let it go.
Even when he sighed against my lips and parted his own to kiss me deeper, I just followed suit and let him take the lead. We moved together as one, fluidly and with as much eagerness was possible. I'd wanted to get a taste of him for so long, and he obviously felt the same way, what with the thorough and precise exploring his tongue did with my own. It shot warmth throughout my whole being, and my legs threatened to buckle underneath me from how weak they felt.
Spencer seemed to understand what was happening to me, because as soon as I'd thought it, he was just as quick to literally sweep me off my feet, scooping me up bridal style and carrying me over to the large bed in the middle of the room.
"I know we're at a wedding and all, but geez," I laughed, watching as he laid me down gently and crawled over my body. "A little much?"
He only rolled his eyes. "Well, excuse me for trying to be romantic..."
"Mmm, I think you're just being an overachiever. As per usual."
That remark earned me a pinning of my wrists above my head, and the fire that erupted in my very core at my current position only cemented that this was very real.
Spencer grinned, his hips coming down to roll over mine teasingly. He spoke nice and slowly, his voice slicing through my soul like smooth butter. "Oh, Honeybee, I'll show you an overachiever..."
Once again I was rendered speechless. Not like I expected to be talking his ear off or anything, but words genuinely escaped me.
Luckily, Spencer didn't seem to mind. In fact, he knew exactly what to do next, and it made me even hungrier for him than ever before.
He captured my lips in another dizzying kiss, his hands still flexing over my wrists to keep them steady. I moaned softly and writhed against him, and though I would have liked to say that it was a conscious choice to coax him to give me more, really it was just me being unable to handle the fact that this was actually happening.
Actually, if not for the overwhelming and familiar scent of him, I would have thought I was only imagining it.
But alas, here he was in all his floral peppermint glory, grinding his hips down into mine and kissing me like I'd never been kissed before, driving me mad with each adept movement.
Thankfully he seemed to get as lost in the moment as I was, because he loosened my wrists in his grip, and I broke free, flying my hands in between us and down to his belt.
His lips pulled away from mine with a soft smack, a smile forming smugly upon them. "Have you no patience?"
As my fingers fumbled with the metal and leather, I pressed my nose to his and quickly pecked his mouth. "I thought we already established that I have no patience the moment I opened the door..."
"Fair... But still..."
Spencer grabbed my hands again, moving them to my sides and then hiking my dress up slowly. His skin was hot against my own, and it took everything I had not to break down begging for him.
And then he spoke again, his lips barely grazing mine as he did. "Teasing you is so much fun..."
I couldn't really explain what sound escaped me then, but it reminded me of a disgruntled animal, erupting from my throat and getting muffled the moment I took my hands and brought his face to mine. I kissed him fervently as his hands matched the intense nature of my affections— With every soft groan I gave him, he returned it with an inch higher up my leg, until eventually he was toying with the hem of my underwear.
Unable to take it anymore, I gave in and mumbled the most desperate plea I could think of. (Like I had to think that hard...)
"Spencer, please..."
I half expected him to tease me again, but this time I felt him tremble over my body. His fingers slipped under the satin of my underwear and he sighed into my mouth. "God, how could I ever say no to you..."
No sooner had the words left his mouth did he spread me apart with his fingertips, getting a feel for me and a broken sigh falling from his tongue and onto my own. I captured it and kissed him with as much precision as I could while under the influence of his hands working wonders.
Truly, his hands hand a magic of their own that should have been considered as an eighth Wonder of the World. They flexed in all the right places, splitting me open and caressing the most sensitive parts of me, simultaneously breaking me apart and putting me back together...
God, and those was only his hands...
The thought of what else he had waiting for me made me cry out into his mouth, though I'm sure it also had to do with the fact that his fingers were curling expertly inside me and summoning an orgasm that I knew would satisfy us both.
I almost cried out again when his lips left mine, but then they travelled to my neck and paid it the most glorious attention. The alternation of his fingers and his tongue on different spots of my body had me in shambles, and it took no longer than a few seconds to snap.
"Fuck, that's my girl," Spencer grumbled into my neck, helping me through my orgasm. "That's it, honey..."
What I wouldn't have given to hear him talk to me like that until the end of time... His words, their tone and praise seeping into my skin and bringing my soul to life... Coupled with his soft hands and his even softer breath fanning over my neck, I was just about ready to ask him to keep talking to me, to say my name and never stop.
He pulled away though, removing his hand from my lower half and bringing it up to his mouth, and I had the feeling my request wouldn't be a problem.
Spencer's eyes rolled back and his tongue gathered my arousal off his long, well-endowed fingers. And though I could hear his groan well and clear, I felt it more than anything. It reverberated through my body and brought me more to life in a way I never thought imaginable.
No one had ever made me feel that way with one single sound, and that's how I knew.
I thought I knew it from the start—from when we were growing up—that I wanted to be near him forever. But It was always just a silly dream, something I was never quite able to reach, and as I got older and we rarely saw each other, it got harder to even imagine anymore.
Now I didn't have to imagine.
Spencer Reid was right in front of me, touching me, tasting me, verbally praising me with sounds I'd only ever dreamed of...
I wanted him to have his moment, because I was positive he'd wanted this just as much as I did, but this sappy sort of revelation I was having made it nearly impossible to not be utterly wrapped up in him, and I wanted more.
So I wiggled and adjusted myself underneath him before grabbing his hand and placing it over my heart. His eyes widened softly at the sight of me, and I knew then that he was taking the time to memorize my face, and the image of his hand resting at my chest, right where my heart was encased beneath bones, flesh, and fabric.
"I could look at you forever," he whispered then.
I would have been ashamed to admit that I whimpered when he said it, but the way he looked at me afterwards made me feel the exact opposite.
He smiled, using his other hand to come up and touch my face. "You want it bad, don't you, Honeybee?"
I didn't even argue with him this time. My head nodded and my hands reached out to pull him closer. "I want you... More than I've ever wanted anything."
Before he leaned down to kiss me, I could have swore he looked like he was going to shed a tear. The duality of him, his ability to be all teasing and cocky one second and then reduced to a lovesick mess at just a few words from me the next, made my heart sing.
And it kept singing, a sweet, steady melody as Spencer kissed me and touched me like he meant it.
Only this time, he didn't pause or tease me with theatrics. He went straight for the kill, fetching a condom from his pants pocket and then sliding the material down, all while keeping me trapped under his embrace. I welcomed it naturally, humming happily into his neck and jawline and anywhere I could reach as he got us both fully undressed and situated, until finally he had the condom on and his hands rested nicely on either side of my head.
"Promise not to sting me?"
I laughed, draping my arms over his shoulders and flashing him a wink. "Mmm, only if you promise to give it to me good..."
"Deal."
He slowly pushed into me then, and the stretch was far more satisfying than his fingers, though I was in no position to complain either way. If he was even half as skilled with his hips as he was with his hands (which I had no doubts about whatsoever), then neither of us had anything to worry about.
It didn't take long for us to find our rhythm, but I didn't have time to think about that. I was so consumed with just the feeling of him being everywhere that technicalities didn't matter.
That being said, the technicalities were really fucking good.
His hips snapped into mine with sharp precision, and I felt it deep within my bones. My cunt clung around him willingly and accordingly, as did my legs, which hooked over his waist as I dug my heels into his ass.
Meanwhile Spencer grabbed my hands and pinned them above my head again, this time interlocking our fingers and then leaning down to kiss me deeply. It was met with my undying welcome, of course, but with the way he was fucking me, deep and with a devotion that nearly exploded my heart, I couldn't help but whine out for more.
His name was all I could manage.
"What do you want, Honeybee?" he cooed, holding himself deep inside me and grinding his hips in small circles that made it harder to breathe.
"M—More... I..."
"Can you be more specific?"
How he could be such a cocky little shit in this moment I wasn't sure, and it frustrated me to no end. He knew damn well what I wanted, and I knew just the thing that would make him give it to me.
I have him the biggest pout I could, also whining out the most pathetic, "More," in my arsenal. And with a roll of my hips up into his, I gasped out at how deep he got, and whined out again.
"Spoiled brat," Spencer grunted in defeat, retreating only to slam into me at full force.
My small gasps and cries turned into full-blown howls of searing pleasure as he fucked me then. My head tipped back and my back arched slightly, exposing my neck and chest to him, and he took it as an invitation to lean down and put his mouth anywhere he could reach. I was sure there would be small nicks and bruises littered over my skin the next morning, and just thinking of everyone seeing them, seeing Spencer's mark on me, made it harder to prolong the inevitable.
I came with a shout, flexing my hands into his as my body tensed then relaxed, over and over while he whispered praises into my skin. He followed soon after, shoving his face into my neck and muffling the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard as he came.
By then his hands had loosened, so I snuck my own away from his and brought them over to hug him close. One hand knotted into his hair while the other grazed over his back. The thin sheen of sweat forming over his skin once again was more enticing than it probably sounded, but I loved it all the same. I felt him relax and bring his arms down to rest at my sides, his fingertips dancing lightly over my skin and giving me goosebumps.
Then out of nowhere, he said something that confused and mildly panicked me. "I thought you said you wouldn't sting me..."
I pulled away to try and look at his face, loosening my grip on his body. "A—Am I hurting you? I'm sorry..."
He laughed though, peppering tiny kisses up my neck until he got to my jaw. "You're not hurting me, Honeybee... You've just... stung my heart, that's all."
"I... Is that a bad thing?"
"It's a strange thing..."
He looked at me like I was the one thing on the planet he adored, but his words sounded different.
I raised an eyebrow. "You're not helping me understand..."
With another laugh, Spencer Kissed my cheek and rolled off of me, settling for laying on his side and turning me to face him. "Do you remember how I gave you your nickname?"
Despite my confusion about all of this, I entertained him with a huffed laugh. "Yeah, I spilled honey all over my shorts without realizing it, and I had ants all over me in a matter of minutes. I was terrified."
"I was highly amused."
I shoved him. "Yeah, dork, I know you were! You and Seraphina both thought it was the funniest thing on the planet, and then your mom had to come out and spray me down with a hose before I came back in the house."
Spencer barked a laugh, and I wanted to punch it right out of his mouth.
"Tell me again why this is relevant to our current situation?" I reminded him with and sigh, already over his antics.
Thankfully he seemed to take pity on me; He reached a hand out and played with a strand of my hair, smiling even brighter than when I opened the door for him. "That's when I started to feel it. You were just... so cute all angry at me and Sera for laughing, and it... It changed everything."
"You know, that would be more romantic if I hadn't been covered in bugs," I responded with a laugh.
"It's true! And it confused the hell out of me, because how was I supposed to cope with the fact that I actually had a crush on my little sister's best friend like some stupid cliché? You were always so feisty after that, too, and it certainly didn't help... And when I graduated and went off to college, I thought... I thought there was no chance you would ever be able to break the heart you'd managed to steal."
He swiped his thumb gently over my bottom lip and smiled, his eyes going all tear-y again. It sent butterflies through my whole body.
"I would never even dream of breaking your heart, Spencer..."
Our foreheads pressed together then, and the unwavering adoration in his voice when he spoke made me forget all prior confusion and minor embarrassment over re-living our origins.
All that mattered was that he was here, holding me in his arms and making me feel like the luckiest woman in the world.
"I know you won't, Honeybee."
———
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whump-town · 2 years
Text
With the blunt tips of his nails, Derek runs his fingers up and down Aaron’s spine. His vertebrae protrude against his akin, his back and hips misaligned as he lays in the crumpled heap he’s found to be the most comfortable. His face turned into Derek’s neck, his hips leaning against Derek’s. He’s draped like a blanket over Derek’s body, weighted and warm. Derek’s completely content to lay like this the whole afternoon. Given the grown man pinning him in place, whose breathing has eased softly into nearly a snore, he will be here all afternoon.
Derek takes a healthy pause to clear his throat, laying the book print down on Aaron’s back to reach for the nightstand. For the glass of water, Aaron took to bed with him last night but never finished. It’s lukewarm but does wonders for his dry throat. Jack is too old to request being read to sleep anymore so it’s been a long time since he’s read-aloud for such a prolonged amount of time.
Aaron shifts, not as asleep as Derek had thought he was. His cold nose brushes under Derek’s chin, his lips just barely moving as he rasps a barely audible, “done?” He stretches his neck, wiggles his toes in his socks, and tucks his fingers under Derek’s back. Trying desperately to warm the freezing digits.
Derek grunts at the contact, feels like Aaron’s just shoved ice cubes against the small of his back. He pics the book up, moves his hand back into position. “No,” he promises, kissing Aaron’s temple. “No, I was just getting a drink.” He hums to himself as his eyes scan the page for where he left off. Most of the book has gone by without him noticing, he’s heard Aaron read it aloud enough times and Derek’s read it over his shoulder, to find the whole novel familiar but altogether elusive. Especially in the sense that Derek can not figure out why Aaron loves the damn thing so much. “Where was I?” he mumbles, more to himself than anything.
Aaron hums, smiling sleepily as he shifts a little more. “Mmm, you are not entitled to know mine,” he answers.
Derek rolls his eyes but pushes his glasses back more comfortably on his nose. “Yeah,” Derek replies. “But you are not entitled to know mine; nor will such behaviour as this, ever induce me to be explicit.” Aaron grumbles and Derek smirks, making sense of the noise and starts to rub his back again. “Let me be rightly understood. This match, to which you have the presumption to aspire, can never take place. No, never. Mr. Darcy is engaged to my daughter. Now what have you to say?” Derek clears his throat, dry and tight again.
“Derek?”
He hums, “yes?”
“Can we do Mary Shelly next?”
Derek bites down his first instinct which is to poke fun at how much of a snob Aaron is. He’s surrounded by bookshelves everywhere in this house. He’d expect to find every one of the hundred and some odd books James Patterson claims to have written with a few sparsely hidden Tom Clancy novels -- you know, typical James Bond and murder mystery enthusiasts stuff. Not sections of Bradbury leading into Wuthering Heights, Pride and Prejudice, and even a few Neil Gaiman novels. No true crime. No spy novels. Aaron likes complex romance and apocalypses and theology.
“Frankenstein?”
Aaron groans, “no. No, The Last Man.”
This time it’s Derek’s turn to groan, “but I don’t like that one.”
“Two chapters?”
“Fine, fine.” Derek knows he’s stuck, he’s whipped. Aaron’s got him wrapped around his finger. “Stop distracting me,” he chides, going back to rubbing Aaron’s back and hunting down the spot he was reading from. “Ugh,” he finds it and repeats the last line but quickly, skimming. “Ugh, never. Mr. Darcy is engaged to my daughter. Now what have you to say?” Derek has to admit that maybe the book is just a little interesting. “ ‘Only this; that if he is so, you can have no reason to suppose he will make an offer to me.’ Lady Catherine hesitated for a moment, and then replied: “The engagement between them is of a peculiar kind. From their infancy, they have been intended for each other --”
Aaron’s breathing softly again.
Derek moves his hand to his head, lightly distressing Aaron’s hair as he moves his fingers through it. He’s in the middle of a line when Aaron nudges his calf with his foot, making a soft groaning noise as he moves his head. “Want you to rub my back,” he grumbles.
Derek rolls his eyes but wordlessly moves his hand back. Whipped, he thinks to himself. But he’s just entirely in love with the most stubborn and stupid man he’s ever met. He pulls his shoulders up, moves Aaron’s head closer, and manages to kiss just the very tip of his nose. It makes Aaron smile so he does it again until he’s close enough he can kiss his cheek and, finally, his smiling lips. “You drive me crazy."
Aaron tilts his head up, wiggles his hand out from under Derek and cups his cheek. "Derek?"
"Hmm."
"Shut up and read."
"You're insufferable."
"You're supposed to be reading."
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ssa-atlas-alvez · 1 year
Text
Cowboy!reader Masterlist
Because apparently y’all love this lol (see- see what I did there? Y’all)
I'm trying to put these in a rough order as I go in the fic universe to try and make it easier to read aha
Edith
Description: cowboy has an elderly neighbour (this is literally just cowboy and his neighbour, in my head set before he joins the BAU) Warnings: none
Interestin'
Description: Cowboy reader is new to the team and is feeling unheard. Warnings: bad government knowledge on Atlas' part, I did try to google it but idk guys, trying my best here. Oh, also, stress eating.
I Understand
Description: directly follows from 'interestin'', cowboy reader talks down a teenage unsub. Warnings: guns, hostage negotiations, untrusting team
Lies
Description: Directly follows 'I Understand', Hotch accuses cowboy reader of lying to the teen unsub. Warnings:
The Post That Started It All
Description: Warnings: gunshot wound.
Baking and House Plants
Description: Warnings: briefly mentions anxiety.
Poetry
Description: Cowboy and Spencer talk about reading Warnings: the only thing I can think of is that reader suggests to spencer to read the warnings of a book reader likes
Allergies (Not Really)
Description: Warnings: transphobia, sad reader, guns, bullet wound, fighting, briefly mentions some murders to set the scene a bit, someone calls reader a redneck.
More (Not) Allergies
Description: Allergies (Not Really) Part 2 Warnings: minor sad reader.
Flirting, reckless driving, I didn't mean to hit you I promise
Description: Warnings: minor car accident, unsub is not a nice man, brief mentions of killings/murders.
Mama's Boy
Description: (Follow up from Flirting, reckless driving, I didn't mean to hit you I promise) Warnings: Brief mentions of murder and kidnapping (super brief), a man tries to intimidate a woman, that’s about it. Oh, some swearing. 
Pretty As A picture
Description: Warnings: a shelter?
Gay Panic
Description: Warnings: gay panic, some unsavoury thoughts - like one
Gay Panic Part 2
Description: Warnings:
Darla
Description: Warnings: n/a
Tattoos
Description: Warnings: n/a
Mermaids and Unicorns
Description: Warnings: n/a
Protector
Description: a guy hits on JJ at a bar and cowboy reader is not happy about it. Set before they confess their feelings, they're still "friends" here. Warning: unwanted touching (arm around the shoulder), and guy tries to kiss JJ (when she doesn't want it)
Sunflower Seeds
Description: Warnings: Death, sadness, abuse, bad foster parents, death of a child, murderous foster parents. Word count: 2403
Quit
Description: Warnings: Smoking, addiction (smoking)
The Art of Actually Quitting
Description: JJ helps cowboy tackle his smoking addiction. Warnings: Addiction, reader snaps
I'm Sorry, I Promise, Have Some Flowers
Description: Warnings:
My Bio Daddy
Description: Not sexy times I swear. Cowboy reader's father visits, things don't go too well... Warnings: abuse, abusive parents, abduction, claustrophobia, judgy nurse, hospital visits, child abuse mentions
Farmers Tan
Description: just a little snippet of cowboy reader and the team really Warnings: n/a
Southern Belle Ex
Description: the BAU run into an old friend of cowboy reader while near his home town Warning: jealousy, mentions past smoking addiction, that's about it
Home
Description: Being close to home, the team finally get to meet reader's family. Things start out great and then... Not so much. Reader makes sure his younger brother knows that despite what their parents have said, he's still there for them. Warning: homophobia, someone nearly says the f-slur twice (they don't say the whole thing, reader puts them in their place), mentions of going to conversion therapy, pro-conversion therapy views, being kicked out because of sexuality, unaccepting parents, unaccepting sibling (Jason's a bit of a dick and I stand by that). I think that's everything.
Outlaws
Description: Warnings: None
I was worried
Description: Warnings: Blood, guns, gun shot wound, passing out, hospitals, some swear words
Sleepless
Description: cowboy reader can't sleep :( Warnings: can't sleep (idk if it's insomnia tho), very tired reader, I think that's all
Birthday
Description: Warnings: implications of claustrophobia, it's his first birthday party so he's a bit overwhelmed bless him (I say over a fully grown man)
Sick
Description: Warnings: illness, mentions throwing up (no actual throwing up), cold/flu, mentions high temperature, reader feels rough, yeah
Dates
Description: Warnings:
Crazy Ex Girlfriend
Description: Dana, an old 'friend' of reader turns up at his work place and decides to make a scene. Warnings: reader gets slapped, crazy ex girlfriend, she insults JJ, she calls her a sl^t and wh0re, she also tells reader to 'burn in h3ll'
Rain and Thunder
Description: It's raining, and reader can't help but feel connected with the earth. Ever the romantic, this particular type of weather leads to more discussions of feelings. Takes place quite some time after 'Sick' and 'Dates' but you guys dont know about dates yet. I've not written it yet but it happens before this. Warnings: rain, thunder, lightning, that's it this one is happy feelings, bit cliche but ya know I enjoyed writing it aha
TikTok
Description: Cowboy reader tries tiktok Warnings: None
(No) Self-Preservation
Description: scar reveal. Warnings: scars, abusive backstory.
Promise
Description: JJ and Cowboy hit a rough patch, the song is promise by Laufey (just in case you can't see it, Tumblr's being annoying for me) Warnings: sadness :'), smoking
Like A ______
Description: Warnings:
Save A Horse
Description: Warnings:
Allergy Reunion
Description: Mia and reader reunite, chaos ensues. Warnings: gun shots, unsubs go to the school, guns, schools targeted, criminal minds levels of violence (maybe even on the slightly tamer side).
taglist under the cut
Taglist: @xweirdo101x @xdark-acadamiax @ara-a-bird @heidss @chubbyboyinflannel @pendragon-writes @migwayne @bigolgay @technikerin23 @supercriminalbean @honestlycasualarcade @caffeine-mess @1s3v3n1 @oddmiles @kevyeen @stealing-kneecaps @criminalskies @woodandwaxwings @wizardmon3 @aphroditeslovr @ducks118 @azeal-peal @13thdoctor-run @introvertpan84 @goth-boi-atlas @iliketozoneout @chaosofmanyfandoms @logicalhorror @luvfornick @prmsn-17
I might have missed some people out - I'm very sorry if I have, also please let me know either in my inbox, on here, or message if you wanna be added to the taglist :)
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Text
In Their Garvez Era (Version 2)
For @hey-dw
Summary: Luke, Penelope, JJ, and Tara take on The Eras Tour
Word count: 6004
Can also be read here on Ao3
"Penelopeeee," Luke sang as he practically ran into her office. 
Penelope turned from her computer with a smile on her face, bringing her hands to rest in her lap. "Yes, my fine friend, what can I do for you?" 
"I have something for you, but in order to find out what it is, you need to listen to a very brief story."
"Ooh, I love stories, carry on."
“So I just got a call from my sisters, and they and their spouses had gotten four floor seats for the last New York City show of the Eras Tour.”
Penelope’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding! They’re so lucky!”
“Right? But it gets better. They just won a draw that got them all new seats in the VIP section. So that’s why they called me, to offer me their old tickets on the floor, and I was wondering if you would like them.”
Penelope shrieked and jumped up from her seat. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, of course I am.”
“Oh my god!” She ran at him and hugged him tight. “Luke Alvez, you are incredible! Thank you so much! Oh my god, we’re going to have so much fun! You said four tickets, right? So I’m thinking you invite one more person and I invite one more? Unless you already have an idea of who you want the other two people to be—”
“You want me to come?”
Penelope was taken aback. “Do you not want to come? You like Taylor Swift’s music, right?”
“Yeah, I love her music, and of course I want to go, I just thought you might have more fun without me.”
Penelope’s heart broke a bit at that. She knew that particular fear or insecurity, whatever you wanted to call it, was a direct result of her past actions. She had tried to amend for all her wrongdoings in the months since the Sicarius arrest, but some of the side effects still lingered. “I’m really sorry that I made you feel that way, Luke. You’re one of my best friends, and I have a lot of fun when we spend time together. I want you to come. Besides, they’re your tickets, of course you should come!”
He grinned widely. “All right, cool. I like your idea of me inviting one and you inviting one. As long as your person isn’t Tara because that’s who I’m inviting.”
“Well, great, because I was going to say, as long as your person isn’t JJ, because that’s who I want to invite.”
“Great, let’s let them know.”
Penelope pulled out her phone and sent a text to Tara and JJ. Come to my office please? Luke and I have something we want to talk to you two about. :-)
Meanwhile, in the bullpen, JJ and Tara's heads shot up from their phones to look at each other. 
"There's no way that they're…" JJ whispered as the two made their way to Penelope's office. 
"No," Tara replied. "He's been adamant that he won't tell her, so unless she's figured it out and told him… but at the same time I cannot think of anything else they would want to tell us privately." 
Luke and Penelope's massive grins upon them entering the office did nothing to squash JJ's "they're telling us they're dating" theory.
"We have a proposition for you two," Penelope started. 
"We're listening…" Tara and JJ replied hesitantly. Where was this going?
Luke repeated the whole story about his sisters and their tickets to the two, and offered them the seats. 
"Yes please," JJ replied emphatically. "I'll tell Will he'll be alone with the boys that day, I am going." 
"Yeah, I'm in too," Tara replied. "This is going to be awesome." 
*** 
Penelope texted Luke out of the blue on Saturday morning. Bring yourself, bring your dog, and bring something to eat. We’re making friendship bracelets.
On my way.
He grabbed a bag of some seasoned baguette crackers he and Penelope had recently become obsessed with, pairing it with a french onion dip and making it a staple at their movie nights. Before calling Roxy and heading out the door, he grabbed one more thing. 
"Your snacks, m'lady," he said once she opened the door upon his arrival.
She squealed when she saw them and hugged him tight. "Ah! And you got my favorite flavor! You're the best! Thank you!" 
He hugged her back, smiling into her shoulder. “Anything for you,” he replied, trying to limit how tenderly the words came out. It was true, he’d do anything for her, but he wanted to avoid her finding out about the true extent of his feelings for her.
Stepping out of the hug, Penelope brandished the bag of crackers and said, “I’m going to go put these on a plate, as well as get the cookies and wine I have. You take your fine behind over to the living room and we’ll get started when I get back.”
“When are Tara and JJ getting here?” Luke asked, in favor of ignoring Penelope’s comment. He placed his things on the coffee table beside hers as he waited for her answer. When it didn’t come, he turned to face her. She was standing, frozen, eyes wide in shock. “You… did invite JJ and Tara, right?”
Embarrassed, Penelope pressed her lips together and shook her head “no.” 
Luke clasped his hands and brought them up to his mouth, trying his very best not to laugh. “So… you’re telling me we’re making friendship bracelets for the Eras Tour, and you forgot to invite the other two people who are going to the concert with us? How?”
“Well, honestly, you and I just do everything together now, that I just didn’t even think to invite them.”
“Don’t you think they’ll feel a bit left out if we have—no doubt—plenty of bracelets, and they didn’t get any?”
“Well, first of all, we’re making these to trade, not keep,” Penelope pointed out as she prepared their snacks. “So we can give them some. Second of all, we’re making only song title-based bracelets today, so we can do lyric-based bracelets another day with them. Third of all, how are we supposed to divide ten albums between four people?”
“Two and a half albums each?” 
“But the albums are different lengths!”
“Then how are we supposed to divide it evenly between two people?” Luke countered.
Penelope faltered. “Okay, I admit it, I might have made a mistake.”
He let out a laugh. “What? You, Penelope Grace Garcia, admitting to me, Luke Pablo Alvez, that you’re wrong? Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”
“Shut up,” she replied, laughing as she carried over their food and drinks. She stopped and stared in shock at the thing he had brought with him. "Did you… bring your own bracelet making supplies?" 
"I did," he responded proudly.
"You have your own bracelet making supplies?" 
"I do. Whenever my nieces come over to visit, or I visit, we make friendship bracelets together. I am under the strictest of instructions to keep some in my go-bag as good luck charms, I keep a few in my desk at work to smile at during the long days, but most of them stay safe in the drawer of my bedside table. They're too important." 
Penelope stared at him. "How on earth are you real?"
"What do you mean?" 
"I mean you are literally perfect! I have yet to find a single flaw in you!" 
"Well, thank you." Luke smiled at the compliment, but his heart was breaking. She just admitted she thought he was perfect… but even a perfect guy wasn't enough to capture her heart. To deserve her. To be with her. Even "perfect" wasn't enough to warrant conversations where she wasn't dunking on him. Well, no, she had apologized for that statement. She had told him that therapy had helped her figure out exactly what she meant when she had said that. It was that he made her want to be vulnerable with him, and she was scared to be vulnerable because any time she had been in the past, she had ended up hurt, so she tried to protect herself by not allowing herself to be vulnerable with him, by "dunking" on him. "Alright," he said, breaking himself out of his own thoughts. "Let's get to work. Which albums am I doing?" 
"Well, since I know 1989 is your favorite and you're also a Speak Now girlie–" 
"Girlie?" Luke repeated, laughing. 
"Anyone can be a Speak Now girlie, Luke. Gender doesn't matter. Now, like I was saying, since I know 1989 is your favorite and you're also a Speak Now girlie, you'll do Debut through 1989, and I'll do Reputation through Midnights. Sounds good?" 
He nodded. "Sounds good." 
Penelope put Taylor Swift’s entire discography, and they opened up their kits to get started. She took a peek over at the supplies Luke had brought, and found herself surprised once more. “You didn’t bring any elastic strings with you.”
“No, I make mine a little differently,” Luke explained.
“Can you show me how?”
“For sure!” So first you pick your ribbon color,” he picked up a light green ribbon from his kit, “and cut it to your desired length. I normally do about nine inches." He pulled out a lighter next. "Then you burn the edges of the ribbon, just enough so the plastic in it melts and the edges won't fray. Some people use clear nail polish, but I find that after some wear and tear that it doesn't hold up as well." He was walking her through step by step of what he was doing as he was doing it. "Then, you grab your beads. First song on the first album is 'Tim McGraw,' right?" 
"Yes," she confirmed. 
"Great." He grabbed the appropriate letter beads, as well as four green ones. "Then you string your beads. I like to put a colored bead on the side of each word, so one before 'Tim,' one between 'Tim' and 'McGraw,' and one at the very end." 
"What's the fourth bead for?" 
"You'll see. The next thing you do is tie knots beside your ends beads. Not tight enough so there's no space between the beads for the bracelet to bend, but just tight enough so they're all secure. And then this is the last step, here's where the final bead comes in." He took the ends of the ribbon and pushed them through opposite ends of the bead until they were each hanging out the other side. "Give me your wrist?" Luke requested gently. 
Penelope extended her hand to him. 
Luke slipped the bracelet over her hand, then lightly tugged on the ends of the ribbon until the bracelet was secure on her wrist. "There," he announced proudly. "And now you have a bracelet that fits you perfectly, and would fit anyone else perfectly!" 
Penelope's eyes lit up. "Oh, this is exactly how we're making all of them." 
Penelope was finished with her batch first. “What is taking you so long?” Her words were laced with mock annoyance.
“You gave me Red, (Taylor’s Version),” Luke retorted. “That album is thirty songs long. You had less to do!”
“Aw, poor baby,” she teased. “Can’t keep up with all this hard work?”
He chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”
“Oh come on, you know you love me.”
“You sure about that?” Luke shot back. Of course, he did, and she knew he did… to a certain extent. She knew he loved her as a person and as a friend, but she didn’t know that he loved her as so much more than that. She didn’t know that he had to bite back his initial response of Yes, you’re right, I am ridiculously in love with you.
She puckered her lips and scrunched up her face in a mock pout.
Fighting everything in him that told him to lean forward and capture those puckered lips with his own, he stuck his tongue out at her.
It took them almost the entire day, but they made a bracelet for every single song from every single album. Over 200 bracelets. 
“I’m proud of us!” Penelope declared, looking at the fruits of their labor.
“Yeah, me too,” Luke said. He was looking at her. He was always looking at her.
“Ooh, and I made these!” Penelope produced four extra bracelets that read INTHAF, ‘It’s Nice To Have A Friend.’ “I made one for you, one for me, one for Tara, and one for JJ! These will be the ones that we don’t trade.”
"Awesome," Luke said, accepting the bracelet and trying to swallow the lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat. He knew that she only felt platonically for him, but the knowing, the expecting it, it didn't make it any easier. He checked the time. "Well, as much as I would like to stick around, Roxy and I should probably head home. She needs her dinner and evening run." 
"Oh of course! You have to take care of my precious girl!" Penelope scratched said "precious girl's" chin. 
Luke gathered his things, and Penelope walked him to the door. "Have a good night, Penelope," Luke said, leaning down to give her a hug and–because he couldn't resist–a light kiss on the cheek. He tried to convince himself that he could settle for being her friend.
"You too, Luke. Text me when you get home safe." 
"I will." With that, he walked out and closed the door behind him. 
Penelope stood there for a moment, staring sadly at the door as a pit formed in her stomach and her heart grew heavy. She knew it was wrong of her to wish for more than just a kiss on the cheek from him, but she wanted it anyway. 
Penelope knew she loved him. She realized it not long after the Sicarius arrest, after he'd told her "The heart wants what it wants or else it doesn't care" and all she had wanted was for him to tell her that his heart wanted her. She knew her sadness was her own fault. She had been the one to end things on their date three years before. She had missed her chance. And it hurt, the knowledge that she had been the one to get in the way of her own happiness, but all she could do was try to convince herself that she could settle for being his friend. 
*** 
The month leading up to the concert was full of preparations. 
The group of four did get together to make more bracelets and, to Luke and Penelope’s shock, JJ and Tara weren’t upset at all that they had been excluded from the previous event. In fact, the two women seemed quite pleased the other two in their party had spent a whole day just the two of them. 
Penelope sent them all lists of every chant and made sure they had all of them memorized. Luke was not ashamed to admit that he knew almost all of them already and was in fact prepared. 
And, of course, there was the subject of outfits. It was an unspoken fact that they would be going all out for this concert. They bounced around the idea of a group costume, but they couldn’t figure out something good for a group of four, so they decided that each person would be responsible for their own outfit and, to make things extra fun, their outfits would be kept a secret from the rest of the group until the night of the concert.
The drive was about five hours long, and Luke had volunteered himself as their chauffeur. Penelope quickly called shotgun,  and Tara and JJ were left to sit in the back. 
Since she was in the passenger seat, Penelope was in charge of Aux, and quite obviously had Taylor Swift's entire discography on shuffle so they could "warm up their voices and prepare for the surprise songs." She played mostly the happier, belt-your-lungs-out songs, but let some of the sad ones in too. Until "Back to December" started playing. "Nope, we're skipping that sad one," she declared. In truth, she didn't think she could handle listening to that song while sitting right beside Luke. She would probably end up crying and spilling her guts and confessing her feelings. She would be avoiding that at all costs thank you very much. 
She didn't see that Tara and JJ had nudged each other and were exchanging a knowing look. 
"Our Song" came on next, and she couldn't help but smile as Luke did in fact have one hand on the steering wheel and the other on her heart as the song said. Well, figuratively speaking. Ever the responsible driver, he had his hands at a perfect ten and two the whole time, but he was energetically singing along. He was just so endearingly adorable, and Penelope cursed herself for the millionth time for not allowing herself a chance to be happy with someone as amazing as him. 
“What surprise songs do you guys hope she’ll play?” JJ asked then, snapping Penelope out of her stupor. 
“Ooh, let’s play that game!” Penelope exclaimed. “If she plays this song I’ll do this thing”
“Ooh, yes,” Tara agreed. “If she plays ‘Dress,’ I’ll strip.”
Luke laughed. “Suddenly I’m hoping she doesn’t play ‘Dress,’ because respectfully, Tara, I do not want to see that.”
“Yeah, and I don’t really want to see it. So if she plays that song you have to close your eyes. JJ, what about you?”
“Oh, um… if she plays ‘Gorgeous’ again, I’ll drink whiskey on ice for a week.” 
“Bo-ring!” Tara complained.
“What, I hate whiskey!” JJ protested. 
“If she plays ‘Speak Now’ again I’ll crash a wedding,” Luke cut in suddenly.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Tara cheered. 
“If she plays ‘Paris’ I’ll get on a plane to Paris tonight,” Penelope declared.
“Ooh, a bold move from one Ms. Penelope Garcia,” Luke said as if he were a sports announcer. “Careful, Prentiss only gave us the time off for the concert plus travel days, not for you to spend a whole week in Paris.”
“If Emily can disappear to Paris without a word for seven months I can do it for a week,” Penelope argued. 
JJ doubled over in laughter, but Luke and Tara were completely lost. “Anyone care to fill us in?”
“Emily faked her death and lived undercover for seven months in Paris about twelve years ago,” Penelope explained.
Luke almost drove up a lamppost. “I’m sorry she did fucking what?”
“It’s true,” JJ confirmed.
The conversation lulled for a moment just as “Right Where You Left Me” came on. Penelope moved to pause it.
“No, don’t,” Luke said. “I like this one. It’s one of my favorites.”
“Oh, okay.” She was slightly taken aback. That wasn’t the type of song she expected him to love, and when she looked over at him as it played, it seemed like listening to it was a bittersweet experience. A pang struck Penelope’s heart as she realized that, if he still had or had ever had feelings for her, this could have been a song he associated with her. But he probably just liked it for the story. It was a really good song.
***
When they arrived at their hotel, they decided they should probably take a quick nap. JJ got their room keys and handed them out. They had gotten four rooms, but Tara and JJ’s were connected by a door in the middle like Luke and Penelope’s were, which JJ totally hadn’t done intentionally. 
After their definitely needed naps, it was time to get ready. Penelope was wearing a short puffy dress of pastel blue, pink, and yellow chiffon. It looked exactly like the cover of the Lover album. She had picked a pair of sparkly heart-shaped glasses to match, heart-dangling earrings, and light pink heels. She put glitter on her cheeks and gems in her hair, grabbed her bag and her bracelets, and she was ready.
Penelope was the first to get ready, so she was alone in the hall when she stepped out of her room. The way they had decided to do it was that they’d each step out of their rooms as soon as they were ready and surprise everyone else with their outfit. 
Tara was out next, wearing black pants and a silver sparkly blazer, mimicking Taylor’s performance outfit for “The Man.”
“Ooh, I love it,” Penelope told her.
“Thanks, and I love yours too. You absolutely nailed the Lover look.”
“Thank you very much!”
JJ stepped out of her room next. Her hair was curled into ringlets and pulled back into a ponytail, and she was wearing a knee-length purple dress with white lace gloves that went up to her wrists.
“Oh my god, you’re Speak Now Taylor!”
“I am!” 
“Sorry I’m the last one,” came Luke’s voice from behind them. “I did not anticipate how hard this would be to put on.”
Penelope turned and gasped. “Oh my god… are you the guy from the ‘Love Story’ music video?”
Luke gave her a little spin. “Do you like it?”
She ran over to him and started running her hands all over the frilly collar, the gold vest, the deep blue jacket. “Oh my god. I. Am. In. Love. You look amazing.”
“Well, you don’t look half bad yourself, Penelope.”
“I look stunning and you know it. Now does everyone have their bags and bracelets?” Everyone nodded in confirmation. “Great. Now let’s go.”
They arrived at the stadium hours early, as was their goal. They had plenty of time to go to the Merch truck, trade bracelets (Luke traded one with an absolutely adorable five-year-old girl, and Penelope’s heart damn near exploded,) and find their seats.
“Holy shit, these are good seats,” Penelope exclaimed. They were five rows behind the end of the walk way, center-stage. 
“They must be if they made you curse,” Luke teased. 
She playfully slapped him on the shoulder. “Shut up, you’re such a pain.”
“Oh come on, you know you love me.”
“You sure about that?” Penelope shot back.
Tara and JJ exchanged a look that read Are they fucking serious I’m going to kill them, because, seriously, how are they this blind? They each took a sip of their drinks. Thank god for alcohol.
“That little girl you traded with was adorable,” Penelope told Luke.
He threw his head back. “Oh my god, I know! And when she picked my ‘The Best Day’ bracelet because it’s ‘the mommy song’ because she was there with her mom… I genuinely thought I might cry. I will never trade the ‘Sparks Fly’ bracelet she gave me. That is going in my nightstand right along with the bracelets my nieces make for me.” He took it off and slipped it into his pocket to keep it safe. “Ooh but look at this one.” He extended his arm and pointed to a “FK JAKE GYLLENHAAL” bracelet he was given.
Penelope extended her arm. “I got one too!”
They chatted for a bit more until, finally, the concert started.
Surprising no one, Penelope shrieked as Taylor took the stage wearing a purple bedazzled bodysuit with tassels hanging off the ends. She sang a small portion of “Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince” before transitioning into “Cruel Summer, stopping right before the bridge.
“All right New York City, we have officially arrived to the first bridge of the evening,” she announced. “I would love for us to cross it together, and by cross it, you know I mean scream it! Go!”
Their group listened, and shouted at the top of their lungs as they danced. “I’m drunk in the back of the car, and I cried like a baby coming home from the bar, woah! Said I’m fine, but it wasn’t true. I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you, and I snuck in through the garden gates every night that summer just to seal my fate, woah! And I scream for whatever it’s worth, I love you ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard? He looks up grinning like a devil! It’s new, the shape of your body it’s blue, this feeling I got and it’s ooh-oh-oh, it’s a cruel summer!”
The next song was “The Man,” for which Taylor donned a silver sparkly jacket. Tara was beyond pleased to have correctly guessed what jacket she’d be wearing and be matching. Luke sat down for that song, more than content to watch some of the strongest women in his life scream their hearts out to a song about experiences he would never have to face. And, of course, record videos and take pictures for them. 
He was back on his feet screaming “shade never made anybody less gay” with his friends and waving their arms in the sky. 
He tried very hard not to look at Penelope during “Lover.” He had no way of knowing she was doing the same to him.
The last song from the Lover set was “The Archer,” Luke’s personal favorite. He had no shame in admitting that he related to it. His throat was in his heart when he sang out, “They see right through me, they see right through me, they see right through me. Can you see right through me? They see right through me, they see right through me. I see right through me, I see right through me.”
Things continued to be mostly the same for the rest of the concert. They sang all the songs, danced all the dances, chanted all the chants, and lost their minds when Taylor pointed to Luke during “Love Story” when she recognized his outfit.
Penelope also took great joy in pointing out which outfit was worn for each portion of the set. The gold fringe dress for Fearless, the yellow dress for evermore, the floral dress for Speak Now, the “A lot going on at the moment” T-shirt for the beginning of the Red set, the green folklore dress, and the green ensemble for 1989 and the surprise songs, which Penelope was extremely ready for. 
The acoustic surprise song set was sung at the end of the stage, so right close to where the group was sitting. They could see everything so clearly. “Hey, how are we doing over here?” Taylor asked into the mic. The crowd cheered in response. “We’ve reached one of my favorite portions of the show, where I pick two new songs that I haven’t sung yet on tour and then perform them for you guys so each night is a little bit different. Tonight is my last night in New York City, and that makes me sad because I love New York, I love it so much.” Taylor paused as the crowd screamed. “So, I decided I’m going to do some sadder songs for you guys tonight.” She picked up her guitar and started strumming the outline of a melody. “I said once that I thought true unconditional love was loving someone even when they didn’t love you anymore… and that’s really what this song is about. I’m going to play ‘Right Where You Left Me.’”
Luke’s heart dropped. Twice in one day? He’d regretted it before when he had asked her to play the song in the car, and now he had to hear it live? With her standing so close to him their shoulders were practically touching? He loved the song, sure, but he loved it because of her. Because it made him think of her. He sang along like a dutiful fan, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice, but it was hard. By the first chorus, he noticed that his hand had started accidentally brushing against Penelope’s. He cast the occasional glance over her way. He thought he could see her doing the same out of the corner of his eye. They made eye contact toward the end of the song and, neither of them could find it in themselves to look away. Penelope felt like he was singing the words “If our love died young, I can’t bear witness, and it’s been so long but if you ever think you got it wrong, I’m right where you left me” right to her. He was.
The moment ended along with the song, and they finally broke eye contact, turning their gazes back to the stage as Taylor made her way over to the piano.
“This next song is quite bit older, but I did just recently re-relase it. What happened was I was dating this guy, and he was so amazing to me, but I was really careless with him, and I really regretted that after things ended. So this is ‘Back to December.’”
This time it was Penelope’s heart that dropped. The one song, the one song she did not want to hear, and she was playing it, and the piano just made the already sad song sound even more mournful. The hand brushing started again almost instantly. As the first chorus began, “so this is me swallowing my pride, standing in front of you, saying I’m sorry for that night,” Penelope, in a moment of courage, grasped onto Luke’s hand tightly. She felt him tense, then relax as he started to use his thumb to stroke the side of her hand. Slowly but surely as the song progressed, so too did Luke’s hand as it slid up her arm, her shoulder, reaching her back by the time the second chorus rolled around. 
Then the bridge. As they sang “I miss your tan skin, your sweet smile,” Luke’s hand had wrapped around Penelope’s far shoulder, with “so good to me, so right,” Penelope stepped forward and to the left slightly, and by the time they sang “and when you held me in your arms that September night, the first time you ever saw me cry” Penelope was standing right in front of Luke, her back pressed to his front, his arms wrapped tightly around her, and her hands resting on his biceps.
Penelope put her entire soul into the next few lines. “Maybe this is wishful thinking. Probably mindless dreaming,” she leaned her head back to rest against his chest. “But if we loved again, I swear I’d love you right. I’d go back in time and change it, but I can’t, so if the chain is on your door, I understand. But this is me swallowing my pride standing in front of you saying I’m sorry for that night. And I go back to December… It turns out freedom ain’t nothing but missing you, wishing I’d realized what I’d had when you were mine! I’d go back to December, turn around and make it all right. I’d go back to December, turn around and change my own mind. I go back to December all the time. All the time.”
The two of them stayed like that for a moment, completely still. Then, ever so slowly, Luke leaned his head down beside Penelope’s. She shifted in his arms to look at him. He stared at her for a moment, then his gaze flicked down to her lips before coming back to meet her eyes. She nodded her consent. He kissed her. He kissed her just as the splash sound effect went off, which somehow made it all the more magical. They were vaguely aware of Tara and JJ screaming somewhere off to the side, but they didn’t care. All they cared about in that moment was each other. 
When they finally broke apart and Luke finally let Penelope go just as Taylor came back onstage for her final set, he could barely make himself focus. His brain was spinning with what had just happened. He was just so happy. Tara cast him a look that clearly read “What did I just witness?” Luke just smiled and shrugged.
All of a sudden the concert was over and they were making their way back out to the car. Luke was hoping to get there as soon as possible so he and Penelope could talk, and maybe he’d get another kiss, but the universe decided he would have to wait a little bit longer. 
“Pablito!” A voice from behind them called.
Luke winced. “Shit. You have got to be kidding me.” He turned to see his sisters and their spouses elbowing their way through the crowd to their group. 
“Pablito?” Tara echoed.
“We’ve called him that since we were kids,” his older sister explained. “You know, since his middle name is Pablo?”
Tara’s eyes shimmered with glee. “Your middle name is Pablo?”
Luke groaned. “We are not having this conversation right now. Guys, this is my older sister Liliana and her husband Liam, and my younger sister Évalyn, or, Éva, as we call her, and her wife Melanie. Guys, this is Tara, JJ, and Penelope.”
“Oh you’re Penelope,” Éva exclaimed. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”
Luke’s eyes shot wide open. Fortunately, Liliana seemed to notice and decided to help him out. She turned to her husband and said, “Why couldn’t you have dressed up like Luke did?”
“Come on, man, you had to abandon me like that?” Liam joked. 
“Sorry, dude, I’m committed, what can I say? At least you wore a pink shirt.”
“So what did you all think about the concert?” Melanie asked the group. 
“Loved it,” Penelope exclaimed. “Everything I expected and more!”
“Ooh and those surprise songs?” Éva added. “I was crying so hard. I never realized how well they worked together!”
“I know!” JJ agreed. “It’s almost like they’re… two sides of the same story.”
Luke took that as his cue to get them out of there as soon as possible. “Well I’m so glad you guys caught us, but I happen to be exhausted and I want to get back to our hotel, and I am the Designated Driver for the weekend, so…”
“Oh, yes, yes, don’t let us keep you,” Liliana said. “Try to come by for a quick visit before you leave, okay? We barely get to see you. The girls miss their Tìo Luke.”
Luke smiled softly. “I miss them too. I’ll do my best.” 
Hugs and kisses were exchanged, and they were able to get back to their car and, at long last, their hotel rooms.
Luke didn’t even hesitate before opening his adjoining door and knocking on Penelope’s. 
She greeted him with a smile. “Hi.”
Suddenly, in her singular focus, he found himself growing nervous. “Hey. Can we talk?”
She nodded, stepped aside, and swept out her arms, gesturing that he come in. “Do you mind if I go first?”
Luke shook his head “no.”
She smiled again. “Luke… I adore you. As in: I love you. Am in love with you. And I know I messed everything up in the past and I have so much more I want to say to you, but I am really tired right now, so I just want you to know, above all, that I love you.”
Luke was grinning so wide his cheeks hurt. “I love you too, Penelope. I always have.”
“Then can you kiss me again, please? And maybe fall asleep holding me?”
“Gladly.” Luke stepped toward her, taking her face in his hand, and he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.
They kissed and they kissed and they kissed and they kissed until they fell into Penelope’s bed and fell asleep in each other’s arms, their hearts at last at peace.
***
Two days later, when they were back at work, Luke received a text from Penelope. 
I left a little gift for you in your top drawer. 
Curious, he opened it, and found a drawstring pouch containing a bracelet and a note. He read the note first. 
I made myself one too ;) –P ♡
He took the bracelet out and smiled at what it said. Lover.
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neuroprincess · 1 year
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Criminal Minds - Alex Blake dating a single mom (Headcanon)
Alex Blake/Female Reader
Classification: Fluff
Warnings: None
Word count: +400
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She was surprised when, in the middle of your second date, you revealed that you were a single mother of a seven-year-old boy. Alex may or may not have choked on water, you thought she would run away or be awkward around after that, but she cracked a huge smile and asked all about him. The linguist couldn't wait to meet him. After a few weeks of officially dating they finally met, a rare day off from BAU turned into an amusement park ride. Despite the initial serious impression she gave, Alex won him over quickly, the two bonding like a nail and flesh.
- She looks serious and strict on the outside, but she is a total plush around him. He has her in the palm of the hand and found this out quickly at the amusement park when Alex paid for all the tickets for the rides they wanted to go on, accompanied the kid on all the toys and won the prizes for the tents you wanted;
- A natural mother. Ethan was the light of her life until he was taken from this world by circumstances, completely shattering the linguist's life. But when she looks at your son Alex sees a bit of her own son in him, it just warms her heart;
- 100% present, she tries to be at all of the boy's appointments and help him with anything he is interested in, once she even coached him to a soccer game. Both ended up with sprained ankles and a few scratches;
- Alex loves to teach, it's so completely natural to her she doesn't even see when that happens, she accidentally taught him Portuguese and other languages and it was worth seeing your shocked face when the boy suddenly started communicating in the language. "Eu te amo, Mamãe!" (I love you, mommy!)" he said running to hug you when you got home from work, they were making dinner and you stared at her in shock as he hugged you, she just smiled winking;
- Family programs become her favorite activity to do on days off from work, you often go to movies, parks, and homemade dinners prepared by the three of you on Saturdays. Alex openly says that she loves this routine;
- In the future, after you get married, she intends to officially adopt him. Alex already considers the boy as her son, but she wants him to know how much he matters to her, and if you have more children together, the kid should not feel less loved or appreciated;
- Alex is the stepmother type proud mom, seems to be in his life since birth how natural the relationship flows and is extremely proud when someone immediately concludes that he is her son, even more so when someone says they look alike. Because you can bet, he will become a mini Alex Blake.
(literally one of the first things I wrote and a random headcanon I found in my old notebook, so it's not long and I don't think even much quality, sorry)
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demigodreading · 2 years
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A Birthday To Remember
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Summary:  My final submission to @sweetprentiss​' Emily Prentiss Birthday Bingo. This square will covered the Birthday Party one.  Penelope wants to celebrate Emily's birthday in a way that Emily will remember forever. A shortie but a goodie.
Characters: Emily Prentiss, Penelope Garcia, Small mention of Tara Lewis
Relationships: Emily Prentiss x Penelope Garcia, Penemily
Word Count:  748
AO3
--------
Penelope was known for throwing large surprise parties for everyone at the BAU. They were extravagant events that perfectly captured each person’s personality. However, as the leaves changed colors and Emily’s birthday approached she was adamant that she didn’t want anything big for her birthday. Penelope knew this for her lovely raven-haired girlfriend had spent many nights buried in Pen’s sheets telling her horror stories of failed birthdays. If Em was honest she didn’t want to even acknowledge her birthday. To her, it was merely another day. She didn’t tell her lovely girlfriend this however because she knew that throwing birthday parties was one of the things Penelope loved the most. And making her smile was something Emily tried to do every day.
So when she woke up on her birthday Emily took an extra couple of minutes to refine her daily look and prepare for what she was sure was going to be an extremely long day.  She was able to do it mostly in silence because Penelope had already left for the day. When she arrived at the BAU she was immediately greeted by her favorite blonde holding a large cup of coffee and a chocolate cupcake. 
“Good morning my love! Happy Birthday!” Pen exclaimed giving Em a peck on her cheek.
Em smiled taking a sip of her perfectly made coffee, “Good morning beautiful.”
As everyone else trickled in for the day they all came into Em’s office to wish her a happy birthday. They all commented on the beautiful decorations Pen had plastered all over her room. It was a perfect combination of everything Emily adored placed in a fashion that was distinctly Penelope. For lunch Penelope bought Em’s favorite food from a local Italian restaurant that everyone ate in the conference room making jokes and telling stories of weird past birthdays. It was honestly the best thing Emily had done in a very long time. All she wanted to do was spend time with her favorite people. When lunch was wrapped up however her nerves began to build again.
Finally, she caught Tara on her way to put away files and called them into her office, “Tara, be honest with me: what does Penelope have planned for tonight?”
Tara shrugged, “Not a clue.”
“You know I sign your paychecks right,” Em threatened.
Tara laughed, “And I am being serious Prentiss. Garcia hasn’t invited me or anyone else to any big or small event. So I have no idea what she has planned.”
Em contemplated this for a moment before sending Tara on her way. When the day came to an end Pen had already snuck out of the office. This worried Em for various reasons but she tried to calm her nerves when she read the last text from her girlfriend: See you at home my love. When she got home she placed her key in the lock and braced herself for the worst. But when she did open the door she was only greeted by Penelope with Sergio in one arm and a large package in the other. 
“Surprise! Welcome home my beautiful birthday girl,” Penelope smiled.
Emily looked around, “No big surprise party?”
The blonde furrowed her brow, “You don’t like big parties. I figured you would like movie night with just us better? Was I wrong?”
To soothe her girlfriend’s worries Em placed a hard kiss on her lips, “Marry me.”
“Wait what?” Pen asked as Sergio jumped from her arms.
“Will you marry me Penelope Garcia?” Emily asked, “You are the only person who knows exactly what I need. You don’t try to change me. You let me be who I am with no regrets. You are the better half of me and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Penelope smirked holding Emily close, “I thought you would never ask.” They spent the rest of the evening curled on the couch eating Emily’s favorite greasy pizza, indulging themselves on chocolate, and sipping red wine straight from the bottle. By the second movie the clock clicked past midnight and Emily could safely say that this was the best birthday that she had ever had.
She leaned over kissing Penelope on her cheek, “Thank you for the best birthday my beautiful amazing fiancée.”
Penelope squeezed Emily’s hand, “Of course Emmy. But for my birthday I am going to need the biggest most extravagant party that you can think of.”
Emily laughed, “Anything for you my love.”
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juniorgman187 · 4 years
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Daddy Issues (Spencer Reid Imagine)
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*NOT MY GIF IF ANYONE KNOWS THE OWNER PLZ LET ME KNOW SO I CAN GIVE CREDIT*
Summary: While tending to Reid’s wound he obtained in a bar brawl, Reader finds out about his true feelings but not without the hurtful mentioning of Reader’s daddy issues. 
Category: Angst Couple: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: Mentions of a violent bar fight, allusions to abandonment, self-destructive/sabotaging tendencies  Word Count: 2.6K
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* 
“Naughty boy.” 
You put your thumb on the dimple of his chin and your index finger under his chin to turn his head to the side gently. Reid let his head turn without resistance so you’d have a better view of the large laceration on his cheek. It was bloody beyond belief. “God, what’d you do?”
“What do you mean ‘What’d I do?’ He was the maniac that punched me.” Because of Reid’s little bar fight, you were all kicked out of the club and forced to come back to Spencer’s apartment to clean him up. While the rest of the team was in the living room, you were in the bathroom, kindly helping him. But he rejected your help when he wrapped his large hand around your wrist to pull it off his face so he could hop off the sink and push past you and out the door. 
“Reid, get back here! You of all people know how much worse that cut will be if I don’t clean it soon.”
Apparently, reminding him that he might develop an infection was enough to convince him to drop the tough guy act and come back. He walked with his tail between his legs when he had to pass you in the doorway to sit back on the sink. You brought out the emergency kit, while Spencer looked over his shoulder to check out his wound in the mirror. 
“Yes, you look cool. Now stop looking at yourself in the mirror and look at me so I can disinfect it.” Reid almost looked embarrassed when you said this, but you both knew it was true. He did look pretty badass. 
After you pulled out all your supplies, Reid shyly spoke up. 
“Do . . . do you really think I look cool?” 
This coming from a man that had been shot twice, survived an anthrax attack, been in a handful of hostage situations, and got out of prison. He was so strong, but he didn’t even know it. How was he so oblivious to his own strength? You had to laugh.
“Why are you laughing at me? What’s so funny?” Reid sounded genuinely hurt. If his previous question didn’t radiate ‘sad puppy dog energy,’ that question sure did. It was as if he had reverted to his shy 24 year old self that still asked for validation. 
“You do not need to get punched to prove how tough you are, okay? You’re plenty strong as it is.” To him, he thought you were just saying that, but you didn’t mean it. “Hey - look at me,” You demanded, making him meet your eyes. “You are so fucking cool. You hear me? I mean it, Reid. It takes one to know one after all.” He tried to fight a smile at your playful joke, but he failed. You always knew what to say to cheer him up, and tonight was no different. 
Reid’s shoulders finally deflated as he settled down. You stood between his legs while you tended to the cut. While you were between Reid’s legs, you felt his finger playing with the belt loop of your jeans. It was such a small gesture you didn’t notice it at first, maybe even because he’d probably done small gestures like this a million times before. He wasn’t even doing it on purpose, but he was fulfilling some subconscious need to be touching you, even if it was simply playing with your belt loop. 
“You know, if you don’t tell me what happened, Morgan will. Do you really want that?” You threatened. Knowing Morgan - he'd be more than happy to recount the incident to you.
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“Alright. If you say so,” You stared directly into Spencer’s eyes. “MORGAN!” You yelled loud enough for him to hear you. 
Spencer immediately clapped his hand over your mouth. “SHH! Fine, fine I’ll tell you.”
See? Worked like a charm. 
When it came to Reid, you played dirty, and without fail, he’d give you what you wanted. Even if it took a while - he’d always give in. 
Always. 
“Remember that guy you were -” Reid gulped back the lump in his throat. “dancing with?”
After pausing to recall the night, a faint memory resurfaced. “You mean Owen? What about him?” 
“After you danced, you went to the bathroom with Garcia, remember?” You nodded again. “He watched you the entire time. Emily tried to tell me it was nothing - but then I saw some guy come up to him and give him a handshake, with a twenty in his palm. So I gave Owen a piece of my mind.”
You tried to contain your laughter at his choice of words. “Guys make stupid bets like that all the time, Reid.” He only huffed as a response. “Hey,” You softly said, turning his head to look at you. “Thank you.” You finally said after a moment of staring at Reid. “Thank you for defending me when I wasn’t around.” 
Reid pouted a little and shook his head. “Why do you go after guys like him?” His voice was so quiet that a whisper would’ve been loud in comparison.
“What?” You didn’t ask because you didn’t hear him, but because you didn’t understand him. 
“Seriously, Y/N, it’s like you have this obsession with douchebags. Are they the guys you think you deserve?”
“What are you saying?” Your voice had a hint of anger behind it.
“I’ve tried to understand why you do what you do, but it just makes me more confused. I know you like guys that give you attention your father never did -”
“Whoa, back up. You did not just say that.” You were actually in disbelief. 
“Am I wrong? Your father left in your formative years, so your love map -”
“Don’t. You. Dare.” Hearing him say that as if you were some damaged unsub that he was trying to empathize with made your blood boil.
“Face it, Y/N. You’re always telling the girls that you want a nice guy, but then you dance on some asshole because you’d rather screw up a relationship with a jerk than mess up a relationship with someone you actually deserve. But if you opened your eyes for once, then you’d realize that if they actually were deserving of you - they wouldn’t abandon you like your father did.” 
As soon as the words left his lips, Spencer received a second bruise that night. The sound of your palm hitting his other cheek echoed through the bathroom. It was enough to call the team’s attention to you two. 
“Fuck you!” You shrieked, leaving the bathroom and pushing past the team that was doing they’re best to stop you.
You stormed out of Spencer’s flat and felt seven pairs of eyes following you as you ran down the stairwell. 
. . . 
“She couldn’t have gotten very far.” Hotch reasoned as he looked into the distance. 
All of us were looking for Y/N, who wasn’t returning any of our calls. Everyone was worried about her, including me. Especially me. It was my fault after all, which the team had no problem reminding me.
“What were you thinking, man? Bringing up her dad like that? That was messed up and you know it.” Morgan added right after Y/N walked out.
“You could’ve been more gentle, Spence.” JJ sighed while ringing Y/N for the fifth time. 
“Just give her some time.” Prentiss advised. “Yeah, I’m sure you two will be back to cracking Star Trek jokes in no time.” Garcia added. 
I hadn’t even realized what I was saying when I was saying, nor had I thought through the repercussions of my words. 
It was a known rule that we should never profile one another, but I couldn’t help it. It was all too easy to distinguish the source of Y/N’s poor taste in men. Although, I had to admit, who was I to judge her based on her father’s absence? What with my own father leaving me and my mom. 
“Hey, Boy Genius,” Rossi called out to me. “You know her better than the rest of us. Where would she go?” Everyone’s eyes looked at me. 
It was true. If anyone knew where she was - it would be me, but I was too flustered from the argument to think clearly. 
“I don’t know! She goes home when she’s tired. Goes to the cafe when she’s working. Goes to work when she needs a distraction. Goes to my apartment when she’s sad . . .” My voice faded when I realized I probably screwed that up, too. I loved her late night visits. They were a reminder that she needed me. That I was valuable. 
That’s when a memory from years ago resurfaced. 
“I know where she is.” 
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* 
“You’re back already? I thought Hotch told you to take some time off.” 
She wordlessly nodded. “Yeah, he did, but I’m fine. Plus, I’m already behind in paperwork.” Whenever she tried avoiding her problems, she’d bury herself in her work to distract her from her underlying pain. It killed me to see Y/N like this.
“Where’d you go last night?” I felt compelled to ask since as soon as the jet landed, Y/N practically disappeared. She didn’t even call me, which was weird. 
“Nowhere, why?” She hadn’t met my eyes when she answered my question, instead keeping her gaze locked on the surroundings below her while she took her seat at her desk. 
“I just . . . I could tell you were upset about the case.” 
Cases weren’t easy to begin with, but Y/N was especially sensitive to yesterday’s. A young woman named Hanna was killing older white, affluent men as surrogates until she got to the real source of her rage - her father. He’d abandoned her in her early years which imprinted on her. She’d grow up to find out that her father left her and her mom for his wealthy mistress. They went on to raise two daughters. It was a shock that Hanna never tried to hurt her half sisters or their mother, but that only meant she was going to inflict that much more pain onto her dad. 
When we finally found Hanna, she’d already killed her father, but it wasn’t too late to save Hanna. 
Y/N was the one talking. 
“Hanna, think about your mom. She loves you so much. Your father leaving devastated her, but you being there made all the difference. You gave her purpose. Don’t let your mom lose you, too. She needs you. Just put down the poison for your mom.” Y/N pleaded while lowering her gun into her holster. 
But as Y/N came closer to her, Hanna reacted quickly by downing the poisonous concoction. Y/N ran right up to her and stuck her fingers down her throat to force her to throw up what she’d just drank, but it was no use. Soon Hanna fell to the floor with Y/N clutching her body as it violently convulsed. 
“Y/N! Y/N!” Hotch yelled, trying to pull her off of Hanna, but she refused to give up. 
I’d never seen her as disturbed as she was on the plane ride back. Her eyes never left the window. I wanted so badly to ask her how she was or offer my help, but I knew she’d rather be left alone. I didn’t blame her. Losing someone you’re trying to save is devastating, but it’s worse when you relate to the unsub. When you very well could have been them. Y/N saw herself as a reflection of Hanna because of how similar their childhoods were - how closely they paralleled. Not to mention, the likeness in age and appearance only served to haunt Y/N as she imagined herself being in Hanna’s shoes. Y/N would’ve wanted someone to save her, so she tried to save Hanna, but she couldn’t. 
It took Y/N a moment after she told me that she went ‘nowhere’ to say something again. “I’m sorry, Reid. I don’t want to lie to you.” 
“Then don’t. Tell me what’s going on so I can help you.” It hurt me to see her like this and I was willing to do whatever it took to be there for her. 
“Promise me you won’t laugh,” She began. I promised her I wouldn’t. “I went to the park. Like with a playground. And . . . I just sat on the swings. For like a really long time.” 
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* 
“I see her!” Garcia shouted, waving around her pointer finger. The entire team was about to jump out of the car when I stopped them. 
“Could you guys just wait here? I think I should go alone.” 
Amicably, they all agreed to wait inside the car, while I trudged to the swing set. 
“We were worried about you.” I softly said, creeping up behind her. 
She didn’t even flinch at my voice or turn around when I spoke. “I knew you’d find me anyway.” She replied. I recognized her voice. She’d been crying. 
“Y/N, I’m so sorry for what I said back there,” No response. “I wasn’t thinking.” 
Another short period passed before she actually said something back. “I’m sorry I slapped you.”
“I’m just glad you did it on the other cheek.” I joked, trying to say something that would make her smile.
Come on, Y/N. Smile for me, please. 
I slowly took a seat in the swing next to her, wrapping my hands around the chains. A familiar squeak noise rang out when I adjusted my full weight. That’s when I looked down at her feet and noticed they weren’t even touching the wood chips. How cute.
“Why do you care?” Her voice surprised me. “Why do you care if I go after the wrong guys?” 
“You’re my best friend, Y/N. I don’t want to see you get hurt by someone that didn’t deserve you to begin with.” This was only half true.
“No, no it’s more than that. Like, why did you punch Owen? Morgan was there, too. But he didn’t start a fight with him and let’s be honest - between the two of you, he’s more likely to use his fists, but he didn’t - you did. Why?” I was rendered speechless. I just couldn’t come up with the right words to say what I wanted to say. “Say it, Spencer . . . please.” 
It took me a moment. I couldn’t even meet her eyes at first, but slowly, I lifted my head to look at her through teary eyes. “Y/N, how can you say you want a nice guy when, after all these years, you’ve never looked twice at me?” Her eyes broke away from mine. “Why won’t you let me love you?”
“You know why. You said it yourself.” 
‘You’d rather screw up a relationship with a jerk than mess up a relationship with someone you actually deserve.’
We didn’t say anything more for a painfully long time. 
“I can’t be with you, Reid.” She finally spoke.
And even though a large part of me wanted to protest, object, and disagree, I stayed quiet. That was an answer I had to accept. 
“I don’t know if I’ll ever get over you.” I admitted, halfway laughing at myself for sounding so childish. If I looked up a millisecond later than I did, I probably wouldn’t have caught the small smile that formed on her face after hearing me profess this. 
“You know, I’m not even sure I know what love is, honestly,” She lightheartedly confessed. “But if it’s anything like how I feel for you, then you should know that I love you. I love you so much. I love you more than I love myself, and I truly want you to be happy. I want to see you smile harder than you’ve ever smiled before. I want you to laugh harder than you’ve ever laughed before. I want you to love harder than you’ve ever loved before . . . but not with me.”
And though, she didn’t say it out loud - her eyes told me. 
‘This is the most I can love you in this life. Let that be enough.’ 
And with my eyes, I told her:
‘It’s enough.’
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* 
A/N: So this might ruin the vibes of the story, but I felt like I just had to explain the ending. 
Reader does want to be with Spencer! She wants nothing more than to be the reason he smiles, laughs, and loves, but as Spencer pointed out, she self-sabotages and has destructive behavior, and she knew that long before Spencer told her that, and for that very reason - she can’t be with Spencer. 
She loves him more than she loves herself, so as much as she wants to make herself happy by being with him - she wants his happiness more. And he wouldn’t be happy with her long term because of how Reader is in relationships. 
The line: This is the most I can love you in this life. Let that be enough. means ‘I’m loving you as much as I possibly can without hurting you. I know it’s not the kind of love we think we want, but please let it be enough.’
I hope that clears things up. 
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